Karisma

Soul Eater: Apple of Discord

Coda Mor Périgord

◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ c o d a ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦

Coda Mor Périgord ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Fifteen | Male | Demon Weapon ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Strengths ♦ Flexible. Coda is able to hide even in the smallest of spaces. ♦ Nimble. Coda is quick on his feet, and can run short distances in record time. S P E C I A L T R A I T ♦ No Presence. Coda is almost always able to evade people; his lack of presence makes it easier to hide. This can also be used effectively to sneak up on opponents and if honed down, in his weapon form, he may be able to achieve a sort of invisibility before an attack. Weaknesses ♦ Stamina. Coda has no perseverance whatsoever, easily succumbing to exhaustion. ♦ Physical Strength. While Coda can easily dodge attacks, he would not be able to take any physical attacks head on. A majority of Coda's hand to hand combat relies on using his opponent's strength against them; a punch could literally knock him out.

•p e r s o n a l i t y Coda was delicately morbid in all of his gestures; sensitive, withdrawn, uncertain and vulnerable to flattery. While quiet and cautious, Coda was also resentful and quick to hold grudges. Instead of a magnetic charisma, Coda exuded more of a "i'm on the verge of breaking" aura. Normally, this caused the people around him to step up and become the "guardian" friend. Since Coda himself has a weak predisposition, he doesn't mind at all. Coda dislikes crowded places and would rather jump into a beehive of angry bees before stepping up to be the leader of anything. •a p p e a r a n c e weapon: Coda has always struggled with his weapon identity, deemed useless by many people. Coda is able to expertly transform into chains. That's it. Coda is a long metal rope (with a green tint to it.) Coda's wielder would be able to adjust the length of the chain and size at will. soul: Coda has a light green, mellow soul. •p a r t n e r Evan Coldwell background For as long as Coda could remember, it was just his mother and him; just them versus the world. Coda regarded his childhood as an uneventful and fairly normal one. They had their difficulties, but Coda's mother was a hard worker and she gave her all to provide for her only son. Coda, in turn, did everything he could in his power to secure a comfortable future for his mother. After discovering his weapon abilities, Coda devised a goal; his grand plan was to become the best demon weapon out there through the DWMA. In his eyes, it didn't matter what hardships he suffered--for they would never compare to his mother's--Coda would see his plans to the end, he was going to succeed. Unfortunately, his plans fell through completely. Of course, transforming into chains did not immediately make him the most sought-after weapon. And of course, not having a complete mastery of his abilities didn't help either. Also, perhaps the fact that he often cowered and hid during practice negatively affected his chances. But what really caused a tear, destroying his carefully devised steps to recognition and success, shredding all the optimistic hope he still had left was none other than his mother's death. After that, Coda was rather desensitized to the world after that. He lived his life with no purpose, allowing the events that happened around him decide his future. So when he was chosen for the trip--he had nowhere else to go--Coda absentmindedly agreed.

Soul Eater: Apple of Discord

Coda Mor Périgord

◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ c o d a ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦ ◙ ♦

Coda Mor Périgord ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Fifteen | Male | Demon Weapon ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Strengths ♦ Flexible. Coda is able to hide even in the smallest of spaces. ♦ Nimble. Coda is quick on his feet, and can run short distances in record time. S P E C I A L T R A I T ♦ No Presence. Coda is almost always able to evade people; his lack of presence makes it easier to hide. This can also be used effectively to sneak up on opponents and if honed down, in his weapon form, he may be able to achieve a sort of invisibility before an attack. Weaknesses ♦ Stamina. Coda has no perseverance whatsoever, easily succumbing to exhaustion. ♦ Physical Strength. While Coda can easily dodge attacks, he would not be able to take any physical attacks head on. A majority of Coda's hand to hand combat relies on using his opponent's strength against them; a punch could literally knock him out.

•p e r s o n a l i t y Coda was delicately morbid in all of his gestures; sensitive, withdrawn, uncertain and vulnerable to flattery. While quiet and cautious, Coda was also resentful and quick to hold grudges. Instead of a magnetic charisma, Coda exuded more of a "i'm on the verge of breaking" aura. Normally, this caused the people around him to step up and become the "guardian" friend. Since Coda himself has a weak predisposition, he doesn't mind at all. Coda dislikes crowded places and would rather jump into a beehive of angry bees before stepping up to be the leader of anything. •a p p e a r a n c e weapon: Coda has always struggled with his weapon identity, deemed useless by many people. Coda is able to expertly transform into chains. That's it. Coda is a long metal rope (with a green tint to it.) Coda's wielder would be able to adjust the length of the chain and size at will. soul: Coda has a light green, mellow soul. •p a r t n e r None at the moment. background For as long as Coda could remember, it was just his mother and him; just them versus the world. Coda regarded his childhood as an uneventful and fairly normal one. They had their difficulties, but Coda's mother was a hard worker and she gave her all to provide for her only son. Coda, in turn, did everything he could in his power to secure a comfortable future for his mother. After discovering his weapon abilities, Coda devised a goal; his grand plan was to become the best demon weapon out there through the DWMA. In his eyes, it didn't matter what hardships he suffered--for they would never compare to his mother's--Coda would see his plans to the end, he was going to succeed. Unfortunately, his plans fell through completely. Of course, transforming into chains did not immediately make him the most sought-after weapon. And of course, not having a complete mastery of his abilities didn't help either. Also, perhaps the fact that he often cowered and hid during practice negatively affected his chances. But what really caused a tear, destroying his carefully devised steps to recognition and success, shredding all the optimistic hope he still had left was none other than his mother's death. After that, Coda was rather desensitized to the world after that. He lived his life with no purpose, allowing the events that happened around him decide his future. So when he was chosen for the trip--he had nowhere else to go--Coda absentmindedly agreed.

Soul Eater: Apple of Discord

deff Interested

THE OUSAMA GAME | a Short-Term Horror

Nathaniel found himself in the same stance he had taken after jumping out of the coffin; it was as if the world had completely halted. Unable to focus, Nathaniel had to strain to remind his body that breathing and blinking were supposed to be involuntary actions. He had a few questions directed to him, but immediately after, he lost all the attention that he had accidentally garnered. He took this chance to relax his muscles and observe his surroundings once more, this time focusing on the details. He's gotten mugged before but it was never this elaborate, so he immediately discarded the idea that he was the sole victim of this peculiar situation. So, while there were some agonizing screams in the background come from a young girl, Nathaniel decided this was the best time to organize the sequence of events that had just transpired.

First, he was in a coffin. Not only did he wake up all sore and bloody, there was also a note with a matching leaf tailored specifically for him with information no one but himself--and Philip--would know. Then, totally skipping his little nap, he was awoken by another person who probably in the same situation as him from the other coffins littered about. There was also the rules on the wall, and the creepy people surrounding him. Nathaniel spared a glance at the girl who was speaking now--her number, he noticed, was one--and felt shivers run down his spine. It was the very last option anyone would've chosen as the solution to their problems, yet she said it as if it was the only way out. Nathaniel went back into his thoughts and quietly roamed the place. He stood in place before a boarded window, his foot tapping incessantly. The place was murky, downtrodden, and suffocating; everything was either boarded up or completely locked. The dumbwaiter, he briefly looked over, was too tiny for him to attempt to fit in.

Nathaniel sighed and continued his internal investigation. In all honesty, his thoughts were just going around in an endless loop and he was doing it more so to keep himself grounded. He was hoping he looked calm, since everyone else in this god-forsaken place was near psychopathic, but his body language betrayed him. "Oh.." Nathaniel quietly mumbles to himself, finally making the slow connection. He hadn't realized that the room they were in resembled more of a lobby than anything else. Normally, when you're kidnapped, you would assume you'd be in some dank basement in the middle of nowhere. But this place resembled more of an old--big--mansion. He looked to the stairs that would've led to the second floor--he didn't understand how he hadn't noticed them until now--with some hope that quickly vanished as soon as he noticed they were broken. His eyes, following the top of the broken stairs, lowered until they rested on the halls that were on the sides of the stairs. They were narrow, but he could faintly see some doors.

Nathaniel came to a conclusion.

One, no one in this place was to be trusted even if they seemed to be in the same situation as him. The fact that they (and he was trying so hard to ignore it) so easily inflicted such torturous pain to themselves proved that even if they were possibly victims, they still weren't right in the head. Two, the time he has is limited and he most likely will not survive. If the people he's with don't do him in first, then he might die from one of the orders being given. Three, this is all some sort of twisted game that was created solely for someone's entertainment--the one everyone else keeps referring to as the King.

Nathaniel decided that even if he could easily see the end, he sure as hell was going to make it as hard as possible for whoever it is that is enjoying this sick excuse for a game.

He was sweating bullets, his fingers rapidly tapping on his arms, he had unconsciously folded them. Nathaniel took one step forward, but then decided against it once he noticed his slasher--number seven--moving towards a door and trying out a key. Where did he get a key from...?

Nathaniel stood in place, when suddenly another screeching sound was heard and his whole body jolted to the sound. The dumbwaiter had come right back with what appeared to be another card. He figured laying low for the moment was most likely his best bet and waited until someone else had the guts to walk towards the dumbwaiter. What he really wanted to do most was explore the place, but it didn't seem like the right moment for him as of yet.

THE OUSAMA GAME | a Short-Term Horror

Despite its slow descent towards a seeming death, the trees still show a fiery ambition to remain standing. The floor was littered with fallen leaves; a world covered in a crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. It was a beauty to behold, most easily Nathaniel's favorite season out of all. He continued walking towards a wooded forest, his feet acting as if they'd had a mind of their own all this time. Nathaniel was comfortable and relaxed. It had been a long time since he's felt this way. In fact, it's been so long he even forgot how he arrived there in the first place. Wait.....wasn't...I?

CREAK

Nathaniel jolted towards the sound he just heard. His eyes widening with fright and slowly focusing on what his mind was alerting him to. Off in the distance came upon that cursed hill. The very one Nathaniel and his brother often frequented as children; Nathaniel took wary steps towards the hill, his fear heightening even more the closer he got. He had this odd feeling he was tapping his foot to the rhythm of his anxious heartbeat, but when he looked down all he saw were his feet stepping towards the hill. Once upon it, slowly, Nathaniel peered over the hill and was met with the last thing he wanted to see--Philip's lifeless beady eyes stared back up at him. Instead of freaking out even more, Nathaniel drew a breath of relief. He mustered up a meek smile, I get it now, this is all a dream. With the realization that he was most likely sleeping, the previous events of ending up cooped up in a box in an unfamiliar location was coming back to him. "Only I would choose to avoid my problems by slee--"

Nathaniel abruptly stops mid-sentence, noticing too late that Philip's lifeless body was no longer limp but lunging towards him at an inhuman speed. He barely has any time to react when Philip grabs a hold of him and digs his nails into him, easily breaking through skin. Nathaniel muffles a scream, and attempts to escape Philip's hold. If this is a dream, then why does the pain feel so real...?

"Sorry, kid, King's orders. It's time to wake up... unless you want to sleep forever right away."

Realization hit him hard and Nathaniel's eyes flew open, adjusting to the dimly lit room he found himself in. In just a few seconds his body bolted back, jumping out of the box--coffin, he quickly notices--and crouches into an animalistic defensive position. Body hunched, protecting where he felt the most pain radiating from, Nathaniel narrows his eyes directed towards a freakishly tall blond. He didn't dare look away from the man, even though he felt the presence of even more people in the room, due to fear of being struck again. He still wasn't at a safe distance, just the coffin separating the two, but did not want to risk any more movements.

The first question that came to the surface was why. Why did this man hurt him? How did he manage to hurt him? He saw no immediate weapon in sight, but Nathaniel was clearly feeling a burning sensation from his hand. Instead of demanding answers, Nathaniel stuck to keeping his mouth shut. He needed to think of a way of the situation he found himself in and hopefully all in one piece. This is what happens when you decide to take a nap instead of escape, Nathaniel chided himself mentally. His breathing was jagged and the loud pounding of his heart wasn't letting him speak properly.

"I don't have any money," Nathaniel blurted out with some pause. "but you can tell me what you want, instead of hurting me again." Nathaniel inadvertently breaks eye contact to look down at the damage he had received. It was bleeding slightly and didn't seem deep enough to be worrisome. "I won't resist."

Seeing as how there were no immediate movements during Nathaniel's cold wash with reality, he eased up enough to take in his surroundings. Including him, there were seven people in total. A number that came immediately to his mind due to the number he had seen carved on his hand; that wound, which was also rather fresh, was in worse shape the the cut he received from the blond man. And as if his situation wasn't dire enough, his surroundings made it even worse. There were coffins littered about--exactly seven--and crude decorations on the wall, if they can even be considered that. His eyes made a full scan of the room, from quickly skimming the words on the wall to taking in the other people that were also in the room. He noticed some windows but his hope of escaping was immediately squashed the second he noticed they were boarded.

He looks back to the blond, expecting some sort of answer or explanation to his situation. His crooked posture offered him some illusion of protection, the closer to the ground he was the more comfortable he felt. A drip or two of his blood fell upon the floor, and the tension was so strung-high that Nathaniel could've sworn he heard them as they made contact with the ground.

THE OUSAMA GAME | a Short-Term Horror

Now, Nathaniel was a strange boy. His mother always said it--devoid of any affection--and his father never seemed to disagree. But he still wasn't strange enough to accept the situation he had just awoken to. It took Nathaniel some long panicked moments to realize that no, he is not paralyzed (just laying down) and no, he is not blind (it was just very very dark.) As he adjusted to his conditions, it took him even longer to understand that he was not dying even though the pain coursing through his body tried to convince him otherwise.

They were all very simple misconceptions; easy mistakes anyone would've made if they had found themselves in his shoes. However, even after making sure he was all in working order, Nathaniel didn't move from his position whatsoever. Had it been the muffled voices he overheard coming from outside? Or maybe it was the fact that there had been an ominous and annoyingly threatening card that had been hanging above him? Truly, though, he believed it was simply due to the fact that he was stowed away like some unwanted clothes in the corner of an attic, in a box nonetheless. Nathaniel knew he eventually needed to figure out how exactly he was going to escape whatever fate was awaiting him outside his enclosed box, but he had no motivation whatsoever to start immediately.

Of course, he rationalized that it was indeed due to the need for a strategy (not fear) that he chose to stay cooped up. How did he know that the voices he was hearing overhead were friendly? Just as easily they could be his captors. So instead, Nathaniel crumpled up the card that was eerily addressed to him, pocketed it, and then gently placed his hand on his surroundings trying to feel what he could possibly be in. He decided he didn't know enough about wood in general to ascertain what was keeping him captive, but instead settled on accepting the fact that he was trapped in a box. He gave a push in all directions with little effort and was met with resistance. He swallows down a whimper that threatened to escape him, and closed his eyes.

His options were very limited and he knew regardless of choice, something would most likely backfire. Which meant that he had to choose a course of action whose consequences he'd be able to handle. First? He could attempt to get out of the box keeping him captive. Which meant he could possibly meet his death with the very people that kidnapped him. Secondly, he could attempt to make a small hole through the wood so he could observe what was going on around him. But then, what if someone pokes his eye out? He would obviously need his eyes in tip top shape if he wanted to escape. As a third option, he could just will his loud thoughts to cease and attempt to eavesdrop the conversation of the obvious strangers in the room with him. But would that even accomplish anything? Then there was also the option of just talking to the people he overheard. But what if they were just awaiting him awakening to begin some cruel torture?

At the same time, there wasn't really much waiting for him at home except bills and homework. Neither of which he was too thrilled to return to. Or perhaps this was finally some holy retribution he deserves from the powers above for his wrongdoings. He knew eventually he was going to be punished, and perhaps that time has come. His thoughts, incessantly loud and nagging, had spiraled down towards a tunnel of self-hate. Which was a vicious cycle that immediately led to denial and finally uncontrollable panic. Nathaniel's foot began loudly tapping the bottom of the box, a fast steady rhythm that failed to calm him down. No....no...no one knows, no one knows.

His mantra failed to calm him down and forgoing any of his previous solutions, Nathaniel decides to take a break. Obviously, the only reason he's not able to escape is because he's tired, so with his eyes shut closed Nathaniel drifts away.

✣ Truly Damned ✣

_{l o c a t i o n. cafeteria
i n t e r a c t i o n s. @Cio(mentioned) &@Mystress Nyx
t i m e. morning}

After working through her breakfast with an unabated hunger, Anahita found herself observing the movement in the cafeteria. She was nibbling on her next breakfast item, a crumb cake muffin, while she mentally voiced over what she saw before herself; she had no better way to pass the time. It all proved to be extremely boring, however. Her eyes lazily scanned the cafeteria only to stop on a girl with tired eyes speaking with a boy who mirrored the exact opposite of the girl. The boy was animated in his manner and seemed genuinely interested in their conversation. Her interest was piqued; it was as if they were two undercover spies playing specific personas in order to blend in and complete their mission. Wow, I would've never thought I'd meet spies in the flesh.

She pops another small piece of the muffin in her mouth, moving on to the next couple of people that were talking. Her eyes didn't dwell long enough on them to actually take in their appearance due to the flash of purple catching her attention from the corner of her eyes. Anahita popped another piece of the muffin in her mouth, letting the flavor seep in slowly and enjoying the pure sweetness. She stared on ahead, her gaze blank, but it wasn't just the purple that stood out; there was a splash of red amidst dancing colored eyes that locked onto hers. A familiar face met hers and mouthed a plea for help.

Had this been any other day, possibly a day she hadn't realized she was on death's doors, Anahita would've jumped onto the chance of helping a damsel--hmm, maybe lad would be more appropriate--in distress. But it wasn't. Pf course, a sickly person couldn't possibly overexert herself without dire consequences. So instead of doing what her instincts were trying to convince her to do, Anahita coughs into her hand and wobbles to the side just a bit.

The exchange had only been a couple of seconds regardless since the boy was dragged out towards whatever fate was awaiting him. Anahita pushes down the bit of regret she felt as she swallowed her muffin; her mind running through all the possibilities of what may have become of the boy. Her hand absentmindedly reaches for another piece of her muffin only to find nothing but the wrapper. While she moved on to her next item on her menu--apple slices--Anahita remembered who that boy was. Liam had always stood out and not only because of his bright choice of colors, but also because of all of his dramatic entrances. All Anahita concretely knows about him is that he had already been at Spring Hill when she was new herself. Not that Anahita minded, but she couldn't really remember the last time she had a conversation with him--or anyone else for that matter.

As Liam reentered the cafeteria, Anahita waited until he was within earshot distance of her to call out, "That was such a display of bravery!" She offers a weak smile and motioned for him to sit with her.


"What better way to start off a Friday morning than to escape the clutches of evil, right?"

THE OUSAMA GAME | a Short-Term Horror

#2

n a t h a n i e l u e d a

_______________________________________________ Nathaniel Ueda ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ 20 | male | 5'11" ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ truthful | well-mannered | loyal persistent | aloof | cynical ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ p e r s o n a l i t y ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ [+] Contrary to his looks, Nathaniel is a meek and quiet boy. He is usually mistaken for someone brazen and outspoken, but he is usually very jittery and keeps to himself. Those qualities do not take away from his well-manners and persistent traits. ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

▄a p p e a r a n c e ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel is a quiet boy with a somber voice to match; tall and lanky with a hushed laugh. If you were to ask anyone to describe him upon their first meeting, the most remarkable feature that would stick would be his smell. Nathaniel always has a sweet vanilla scent lingering about his person without the need of cologne. Standing tall at 5 feet and 11 inches, Nathaniel's frame feels even more elongated due to his sharp features. His style gives off a relaxed aura; loose-fitting sweaters and comfortable pants. Nathaniel's complexion is rather clear aside from a few scars he always avoids having to explain (none are in visible view.) ▄r e l e v a n t i n f o r m a t i o n ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel was born the oldest son to Hazel Thomson and Jirou Ueda; a few years after his birth, his younger brother was born and his family was completed thereafter. Philip Ueda, his younger brother, was everything you could ask for in a son and Nathaniel was not. The bias became very clear in his early life, from his mother showing clear distaste to his father's favoritism. Being only 2 years apart in age, Nathaniel was young and easily starved for his parents' affection. Unfortunately, he was never able to gain his parent's full attention and Nathaniel decided it was for his own good to move out as soon as he graduated college. He is now living in a studio apartment; he attends his college classes and works part-times to support his lifestyle. ▄d a r k s e c r e t ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [+] One day as Nathaniel was babysitting his younger brother, they decided it would be a good idea to play hide-and-seek in the woods behind their family home. Nathaniel was 10 at the time while Philip was only 8; the game went on for an hour or two before Nathaniel had an overwhelming reminder of how unloved he felt. He knew where Philip was hiding, it had been the same spot for the last three turns. The best part about the area was that it was overseeing a small, hidden cliff. Instead of letting his presence be known to his younger brother, Nathaniel snuck up and pushed his brother down down down. Philip tumbled through the leaves and dirt until a small thud was heard from overhead; Nathaniel stood by until his brother reached the bottom. Aside from the panic that engulfed him, Nathaniel felt relief washing over him. It was all short-lived, however, when he noticed the rise and fall of his brother's chest. Instead of helping his brother back up, Nathaniel went back home. He waited for his parents to come home from work. Easily told them Philip had been playing in the back but he hasn't seen him since noon (didn't matter the story since his parents would blame him anyways.) The search went on for hours until the next day break and Nathaniel barely lifted a finger to help with the search. Even when the neighbors, the firefighters and the police got involved, Nathaniel kept to himself. Come morning, Nathaniel was ready for the wave of punishment that was going to come his way as his parents entered the home with young Philip in their hands. However, what came after wasn't any yelling or recognition of his doings; instead, it was the same indifference he always received. The world continued as if Nathaniel hadn't been responsible for the incident, and remained revolved around his brother Philip. To this day Nathaniel wonders if Philip even knows that Nathaniel had been the reason for his fall.

---

☣ E ᐯ O ᒪ ᑌ T I O ᑎ

love me some zombs

THE OUSAMA GAME | a Short-Term Horror

nathaniel ueda

n a t h a n i e l u e d a

_______________________________________________ Nathaniel Ueda ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ 20 | male | 5'11" ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ truthful | well-mannered | loyal persistent | aloof | cynical ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ p e r s o n a l i t y ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ [+] Contrary to his looks, Nathaniel is a meek and quiet boy. He is usually mistaken for someone brazen and outspoken, but he is usually very jittery and keeps to himself. Those qualities do not take away from his well-manners and persistent traits. ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

▄a p p e a r a n c e ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel is a quiet boy with a somber voice to match; tall and lanky with a hushed laugh. If you were to ask anyone to describe him upon their first meeting, the most remarkable feature that would stick would be his smell. Nathaniel always has a sweet vanilla scent lingering about his person without the need of cologne. Standing tall at 5 feet and 11 inches, Nathaniel's frame feels even more elongated due to his sharp features. His style gives off a relaxed aura; loose-fitting sweaters and comfortable pants. Nathaniel's complexion is rather clear aside from a few scars he always avoids having to explain (none are in visible view.) ▄r e l e v a n t i n f o r m a t i o n ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Nathaniel was born the oldest son to Hazel Thomson and Jirou Ueda; a few years after his birth, his younger brother was born and his family was completed thereafter. Philip Ueda, his younger brother, was everything you could ask for in a son and Nathaniel was not. The bias became very clear in his early life, from his mother showing clear distaste to his father's favoritism. Being only 2 years apart in age, Nathaniel was young and easily starved for his parents' affection. Unfortunately, he was never able to gain his parent's full attention and Nathaniel decided it was for his own good to move out as soon as he graduated college. He is now living in a studio apartment; he attends his college classes and works part-times to support his lifestyle. ▄d a r k s e c r e t ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ [+] One day as Nathaniel was babysitting his younger brother, they decided it would be a good idea to play hide-and-seek in the woods behind their family home. Nathaniel was 10 at the time while Philip was only 8; the game went on for an hour or two before Nathaniel had an overwhelming reminder of how unloved he felt. He knew where Philip was hiding, it had been the same spot for the last three turns. The best part about the area was that it was overseeing a small, hidden cliff. Instead of letting his presence be known to his younger brother, Nathaniel snuck up and pushed his brother down down down. Philip tumbled through the leaves and dirt until a small thud was heard from overhead; Nathaniel stood by until his brother reached the bottom. Aside from the panic that engulfed him, Nathaniel felt relief washing over him. It was all short-lived, however, when he noticed the rise and fall of his brother's chest. Instead of helping his brother back up, Nathaniel went back home. He waited for his parents to come home from work. Easily told them Philip had been playing in the back but he hasn't seen him since noon (didn't matter the story since his parents would blame him anyways.) The search went on for hours until the next day break and Nathaniel barely lifted a finger to help with the search. Even when the neighbors, the firefighters and the police got involved, Nathaniel kept to himself. Come morning, Nathaniel was ready for the wave of punishment that was going to come his way as his parents entered the home with young Philip in their hands. However, what came after wasn't any yelling or recognition of his doings; instead, it was the same indifference he always received. The world continued as if Nathaniel hadn't been responsible for the incident, and remained revolved around his brother Philip. To this day Nathaniel wonders if Philip even knows that Nathaniel had been the reason for his fall.

---