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Rory seemed nice. And the fact he didn't instantly act like he was talking to a convict was a good enough sign for Iñigo. It meant that details of their sudden arrival hadn't spread to the team yet. But perhaps their teammate was doing an excellent job of hiding the fact. Regardless of his intentions, his presence was quite endearing, and it would've been rude for them to leave him hanging. Something engraved by their mother at a young age and constantly brought up whenever their little brother was being a little shit at... no. Don't think about them now—not while someone's here. Iñigo shook their teammate's hand and got up from the planter. Their smile was genuine despite still bearing a headache from the inhibitor earlier (it usually lasted twelve hours in the best case).

"Sure, it isn't like I have nothing better to do. The name's Iñigo, by the way." Iñigo smirked at Rory before beginning the lengthy walk back to the dorms. They felt delighted to be walking around without being surrounded by a ten-foot barbed wire fence, having hostile guards beside them every day, or wearing that awful inhibitor. It was fucking liberating. But the awkward silence between their fellow teammate was going to kill that feeling. So to preserve it for as long as humanly possible, Iñigo decided to kick-start a conversation by throwing a seemingly harmless question at Rory (in truth, it was their clever way of learning about the others rather than going in blind and playing catch-up at the trials). "So... what are the others like? I am quite curious about our crew of misfits."


That was a fantastic question, and one Rory was definitely not qualified to answer. Even he realized any interactions he had with the others so far was pretty superficial. And half of the crew didn’t even seem to want to be there to begin with, making it hard to break the ice effectively. "Right, yeah… I mean, we've got some strong personalities. Trace swears all the time, but talks like Shrek. I think they’re pretty mad at me actually, something to do with football… Oh man, a football should work to toss around. It's way more doable than soccer…" Rory turned his gaze to Inigo, his smile fading for a moment. He had gotten distracted… again.

"Uh, right, sorry. You'll probably get a good feel on the shuttle or at camp or whatever. Banjo seemed cool, but everyone was giving him crap. And Trev… err, Trevor, he's cool. I think you'll get along with him. Then… there are Lucille and Cass, both seem a bit lonely or something. Calliope and Mackenna are pretty hot. Haleigh is hot too.. and Katja… Katja is jacked, man. She also seems real considerate and stuff. And I haven't really seen much of Axel." Rory scrunched up his nose as he took a moment to count, visibly mouthing the numbers as he counted up everyone on his fingers. "But yeah, that's pretty much the crew. We've got a big Breakfast Club vibe… except there's more of us, I guess. And there wasn't a real buff lady. And we're not in detention…" Rory let his spiraling checklist of differences trail off and just run in his head for a moment as the two approached the Intake House. Rory shot a small smile at Inigo, giving a quick pat on the shoulder. ”I’ll meet you back out here in a bit, once I finish changing and packing all my stuff.”

Location: Southern Plateau - P.R.C.U. Campus
The Homecoming Trials #1.30 : A Bad Hand

Interaction(s): @Mao Mao, @Jarl Coolgruuf, et al
Previously: A New Face

Rory dropped his heavy bag to the ground, letting it thud against the pavement as he began stretching his arms. He was sporting an old gold PT sweatshirt, a few iterations out of date at this point, matched with the standard issue running shorts and running shoes. His eyes were hid behind a fresh pair of unbranded sunglasses as he glanced over towards the other students gathered. He listened in as the faculty and student advisors made their introductions. He couldn’t help but feel his chest puff up at the sheer audacity the rival team’s student advisor had to trash talk his team. It did feel a little comforting, though, to be back in a competitive environment.

Of course, he still didn’t know anything about the team he was competing with. The opponents looked somewhat intimidating, and their faculty advisor seemed to have more of a competitive spirit than their own laid back Jim. It was clear that this was all a large contest of sorts, and all Rory could hope for was to get a chance to score points for his own team. Though, in the grand scheme, he wasn’t sure what he could contribute to… well, whatever this competition was. He could hold his own in anything athletic, but there had to be something more to this. Most likely something to do with using powers, and if that was the case… Rory would have to play things smart.

Team 21 was screwed.



As soon as Jim had delegated tasks to the group, Rory gave a slight nod. He looked towards his fellow teammates, scratching his chin for a moment. He could always offer to share a tent with Inigo, though someone like Trevor seemed more his wavelength. Though, quite frankly, who he slept next to was hardly his concern for the night. It wasn’t a big deal, all the tents would be for is to get some rest anyways. "Hey, name's Calliope. I don't suppose you would be up to sharing a tent tonight?" Rory raised an eyebrow, but simply shrugged off any suspicion. It wasn’t a big deal to share a tent with someone, after all. As long as whoever he was sleeping near didn’t make too much noise, Rory wouldn’t even mind sharing a tent with Trace.

"Look at this place! Couldn't have picked a better spot myself." Rory felt a little more at ease at the small talk. He looked out at the surroundings… and honestly, he had no idea if this was a good spot for camping. He had spent a number of nights in the summers camped out in the backyard with friends, but that seemed like a much different experience than this. Being out in nature was soothing, and the view wasn’t that bad. Rory readjusted the shoulder on his back, taking a moment to admire the view. ”We’ve got plenty of space to get a game going. I brought a football to toss around, hopefully that doesn’t upset anyone.” Rory’s eyes instinctively shot in the direction of Trace, anticipating another outburst. He pivoted the conversation quickly, looking in the direction of the tent kits. He flashed an awkward smile to the others. ”Right… uhh… guess we should do tents first.” Rory clapped his hands together, taking a cue from his former coaches to call out his next line. "Let's go, Blackjack. Faster we're set up, faster we can hang out."

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Rory dabbed at the sweat gathered in the small of his back with a small hand towel as he slammed the locker door shut. His teammates were busy hooting and hollering, but Rory couldn’t help but feel disconnected from it all. His father had promised to be there, but it looked like his family had skipped out on coming to the biggest dual meet of the year. At least, most of them. Mary, of all the members in his immediate family, had taken the time to come to the match. She was on her phone half the time… but at this point, he couldn’t complain much. But now that everything was over, and he felt his teammates patting him on the back and throwing praise in his direction. Rory had decisively scored points for his high school, and helped them cinch the victory. He just nodded and smiled in response, muttering out a few thank you’s as he shuffled out of the locker room.

The air outside was bitter and cold, and a fresh layer of snow coated the cars still parked in the parking lot. Rory zipped up his overcoat and shoved his towel into a side pocket of his gym bag before slinging the latter over his shoulder. As he began to trudge through the snow, he heard a soft shrill voice call out to him. ”Are you just going to leave me here, freezing, John Cena?”

Rory stopped in his tracks, instantaneous guilt running up his spine. His mind had completely blanked on the simple fact that if she had been to his match, she was going to need a ride home. Especially since no one else showed up. He turned around slowly, giving a faint smile. Mary was a solid foot shorter than him, but the glare in her eyes was menacing. It was undercut only slightly by her shivering, huddled up as much as she could be underneath her blue scarf and bright pink puffer coat. ”Shi-errr… yeah, sorry. I spaced a bit there. Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

Mary quickly began sprinting through the snow towards the old minivan he had been allowed to drive, and Rory had to quicken his pace to keep up. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket before finally managing to press the unlock button, and the two were in the van within seconds with the car running and the heat on full blast. Mary sat huddled up, waiting for the heat to kick in proper. Rory fished an ice scraper from the back seat, and set about clearing off the car to the best of his ability. After a couple minutes, Rory was back in the driver’s seat and sighed in relief as he felt the hot air blowing. Mary was already comfortable in the passengers seat, playing on her phone. As Rory went to shift the car in reverse, Mary had shoved her phone into his face. ”You almost had him there, halfway through your match. You could have ended it a lot quicker.”

Rory tilted his head in confusion, leaning his head back and grabbing her phone. Sure enough, there was a small clip of the match. The camera was zoomed in on Rory and his opponent grappling at the shoulders, Rory making a few extended swipes towards the knees. Sure enough, she was right: he was so close to getting a good grab. Rory remembered the match. He had hesitated, and played a bit more defensively. He turned his gaze towards his sister, jaw slightly ajar. ”Yeah… you’re right. I almost-” Rory’s mind was finally playing catch up, and he held the phone out to his little sister. ”Wait, were you filming my match?”

Mary snatched back her phone, and was immediately back into some app typing away. ”Well, yeah. I sent it in the group chat, so Mom or Dad can watch it later.”

Location: Stadium - P.R.C.U. Campus
The Homecoming Trials #1.23 : A New Face

Interaction(s): Inigo Giménez-Pozo @Mao Mao
Previously: What the Hell is Kumbaya?

Rory tilted his head slightly at Trace's continued outburst. He could tell something had struck a nerve... but was confused with the sudden talk of football. He hadn't been talking about football, and Trace didn't look like the type to have an interest in a full contact sport. Their... confrontational personality seemed suited for a violent sport, and they could probably wipe the floor with Rory if he didn't watch his tongue. But in this circumstance... it seemed like the team was stuck with each other for a while: yet everyone but his boy Trevor wanted to be anywhere other than here. Though even Trevor split off on his own, and Rory took his time to exit the stadium. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his steps lingering as he slowly trickled out of the stadium. He felt a vibration coming from his phone, and pulled it out to give it a quick look. It was a simple text from his sister. >Are you and your team ready for the Trials? Will and I are meeting our team to strategize.< Rory's steps slowed to a stop as he reached the exit of the stadium, looking up to see all the others leaving in different directions across campus. To call them a team felt wrong. He quickly typed back. >I'll manage. Keep an eye on Will, and use your heads.<

He looked out towards the others leaving, before his eyes locked on to a stranger sporting an armband with the signature Blackjack logo. None of his teammates seemed to notice... granted, everyone else seemed to be caught up in their own little worlds. But Rory noticed them. The stranger didn’t seem to be up for introducing themselves to anyone who left, which is natural when most seemed to leave the opening ceremony in a sour mood or in a rush. So, Rory took a deep breath before striding over to Inigo and extending out a hand for a proper handshake. "Hey, my name is Rory, it's nice to meet ya. I see you're with Team 21... I'm heading back to the House to pack some stuff for the Trials. Why don’t ya join me, and we can meet up with the others?"

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Sometimes, the world moves so fast that days feel like a blur.

Rory stood in silence as the crowd dressed in black quickly began to disperse. The rows upon rows of gravestones were some of the only company left as the teenager stared into the darkness of the open grave. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, mindlessly crumbling and ripping at the paper program for the service. By this point, Rory had run out of tears. This wasn't unexpected. There had been months of pain and deterioration leading up to this. By now, he was just empty. There was a shifting sound from the grass behind him, and Rory slowly turned around. Aunt Morse stepped up to her nephew and held him tight. He just stood stiff for a moment before reaching a hand up to pat his aunt softly on the back. She leaned back and kept one hand on his shoulder, looking her nephew in the eyes. "Rory, let's get you home, ok? The twins are already in the car. It's getting late."

Next thing Rory knew, it had been days. He stood in the empty living room of his family home, devoid of the furniture and sophisticated art that always just looked like paint splotches to him. He shuffled his feet as he sulked towards the kitchen, flicking off the light switch. His eyes lingered on the colored scratch marks on the door-frame leading out into the hall. It felt wrong to leave those memories behind, and this place. Next thing Rory knew, though, he was behind the driver’s seat of his mom’s beat up minivan pulling into a parking lot. He stared up at the dull gray slab of concrete they called an apartment building. He took a deep breath, hands gripping the steering wheel tight. The sun had already set in the horizon, and the only lighting left in this parking lot was a solitary humming streetlamp. Rory grabbed the bag of food from his passenger’s seat and got out.

Turns out a medical degree didn’t come with cooking lessons.

The blur began to fade when he was startled by the sound of a thick manilla folder getting slapped onto the kitchen table in front of him. It was late again, a few weeks after the service. He raised an eyebrow, looking up to his beaming aunt who set a cup of coffee down next to him. “I know the last thing you need right now is me to be breathing down your neck about this, but I have to mail the materials tomorrow to get enrolled this late in the game. The question is… what do you want?”

Rory opened up the folder, and slowly exhaled a held breath as he recognized the logos and designs on the pamphlets and brochures at the front of the pile of documents. The logo was the same as a sweatshirt his mother wore all the time, from her alma mater: Pacific Royal Collegiate and University. Rory flipped through some of the papers, until his eyes locked on to the H.E.A.T. brochure. That was the program his father had mentioned. His eyes turned back towards his aunt.

“I… I think I want to give it a shot.”

Location: Kitchen and Stadium - P.R.C.U. Campus
The Homecoming Trials #1.11 : What the Hell is Kumbaya?

Interaction(s): @Jarl Coolgruuf
Previously: None

“... Down at the body shop, doing something unholy…”

Rory Tyler bobbed his head and tapped his feet as he sang quietly to himself, the sound of his words dulled significantly by the high pressure kitchen faucets running at full blast. He wasn’t at all displeased to be working as a dishwasher, working through stacks of dirty dishes on a line at the scrubbing section. He relished the opportunity to put his strength to good use in some small capacity, facing each bit of hardened egg or cheese with a ferocious determination to make sure the dishes were scrubbed off to be stacked and reorganized. He recognized a couple of his new teammates peeling potatoes in another part of the kitchen when he walked in. Guess it took a lot to feed this many students.

By the end of his shift, Rory’s hands ached. He pulled off the yellow rubber gloves he had been wearing and rested them on the edge of the large sink area, stalking towards the exit. He had already been walking back to his room when he looked down to realize he was still wearing a black rubber apron. He quickly ran back to the kitchen, bursting in and throwing the apron over one of the hooks as he grabbed his blazer. He had changed into the fashionable jacket and was nearly out the door again when he heard a small thud, turning around to see the apron had fallen to the ground. With a small grunt and a few extra seconds spent gingerly returning the apron to its appropriate hook, Rory was back out racing for the intake house to grab his gym bag.


Rory stood in front of the rock climbing wall, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the intimidating climb. He double checked his harness, and dipped his hands into a small bag of chalk and rubbed his palms together to spread out the chalk. He took a few deep breaths as he tried to parse out the best path up, before just shaking his head and beginning his climb. The beginning was easy, as he steadily got a few feet off the ground without much pause between each step up. But as Rory looked above him for an easy handhold, he found the grips were all spaced farther out. He stretched out one arm, fumbling as he kept stretching farther to clasp one of the grips. His fingers just barely caught on to one, and his muscles ached as he began to shift his weight. He lifted a foot up to latch on to one of the grips, only to feel his foot give way as his shoe failed to gain the right traction. Rory hung for only a second before his outstretched hand’s grip gave way, and his body dropped slightly. His remaining hand grip wasn’t strong enough to keep him upheld, so Rory dropped a couple feet before the harness caught him. Rory looked down to see he was barely hovering off the ground, and sighed as he was lowered down by gym staff the rest of the way. Rory quickly assured them he was fine, and ready to try again.


Rory rushed into the stadium nosebleeds, smelling faintly of peach scented soap and his hair clearly still wet, as the assembly was starting. The call to stand for the Canadian national anthem made Rory feel at ease and helped him blend in, despite the stern looks from faculty manning the doors as he entered just as things were starting. He mumbled along with the national anthem softly as he quickly grabbed the nearest sea near the few faces he recognized, each sporting the signature “blackjack” armbands. He tried his best to pay attention to the boring speeches, but quickly grew bored of the presentation. He began tapping his right index and right thumb together, trying to match the cadence of the voices that practically droned in his head. Before long, he was startled to hear everyone beginning to stand up… along with a few interjections:

“.. how many of us WILL you be sacrificing to your gods in this thing for a good harvest this year?”

“Look, everyone, at the cool boy challenging the system. He’s so edgy. No one’s evah thought to do that before! Fuckin’ wanker.”

Rory felt his body immediately tense up, innately feeling the tension begin to boil. Banjo’s outburst didn’t make much sense to him: there were gods at this school? Rory had read some book back in middle school about something kind of like that. It would be cool of his teachers were gods. But he didn’t like the idea of getting sacrificed to one of them. Rory also didn’t recall gods being mentioned in Harry Potter.

“Hey, they may have said it. But we were all thinking it.”

Rory’s brow furrowed. What were they all thinking? Did everyone else know about the gods? Was Rory the only one who hadn’t put together the pieces?

“Hey all! Looks like we’re teammates. I hope we don’t actually have to play cards. I’m much more of a soccer guy myself.”

“Yeah, everyone, let’s all hold hands and sing Kumbaya together.”

Rory smiled slightly at Calliope’s “suggestion,” completely dodging the sarcasm with the expert precision of someone far too excited at the thought of having some actual friends for once. He called out as people began to disperse. ”Calliope is right… maybe some ice breakers would help!” He shot a sincere smile to whatever teammates weren’t rushing away, but couldn’t help but to feel a bit dejected at the shift in mood. Trace was gone, as was Calliope. Cassander had left as well, while Katja and Haleigh seemed to be having a bit of a moment. Rory turned his gaze to Trevor in particular, walking over to his new teammate and slapping a hand on his shoulder. ”Calliope is right, Kumbaya might be a better warm up activity… whatever that is. I’m totally down to play soccer, but I don’t think that would be best for… well… all of us, you know?” Rory tilted his head slightly in the direction of Haleigh and Katja, a warm smile still plastered on his face.

Rory watched as more people were funneling out of the stadium, and quickly patted Trevor one last time on the shoulder in reassurance. ”I’m gonna head back to the intake house and get changed. I’ll meet you there, man.”

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A fire crackled in its fireplace nearby, providing a warm orange glow to the overstuffed red couch. A taller man ran his fingers through his own dark hair with one hand, slamming shut a book with his other hand. His eyes were piercing, calculating, not entirely present for a moment. It would not be uncharacteristic to say he was examining the future, trying to predict it. The man's armor creaked as he stood up and set a small book on a side table, making a clear motion to leave.

A young voice broke the otherwise calm moment. "Why can't you stay? Why can't I come with you?"

The figure stopped, letting loose an expectant sigh, and turned back. "I am clearing a path for you to follow. It's not safe for you yet."

The child was indignant, sitting up straight on the couch to confront the man. "My… Lady Lothwren says I was born under a powerful star, and that the stars chose me to be a hero."

The man shook his head slightly, taking a few steps towards the child before kneeling down to get to eye level. "You may possess the gifts of the heroes of old, but no one, not the stars nor the Spirit of Arbert Grayle himself, can choose who you are. If you want to be a hero, you need to choose that path."

"I want to be a hero." The boy looked into the man’s eyes, smiling softly. “Like you.”

The man gave a pained sigh, nodding as he stood back up and fetched a small wooden sword mounted atop the fireplace's mantle. He held it outstretched to the boy, motioning towards a large open space in the parlor. "Then show me your cuts. Let's see where you need to improve."

Why think of that now?

Nathaniel turned his gaze towards his fellow nobles and gave a short bow. "I hope to see you both at the entrance ceremony."

Nathaniel moved methodically towards his assigned fighting arena. His eyes scanned towards some of the other contestants he was impressed with. Cyrus Locke was off speaking to a few other skilled commoners, wiping the sweat from his brow. The two locked eyes for a moment, and Cyrus’ sly grin told Nathaniel all he needed to know: Cyrus would only be rooting for him to have a chance to beat him down later. Nate’s eyes turned towards Zenshin Ferros and Donathon, who each made respectable showings. His eyes narrowed as he got into his starting position in the training grounds. He had begun to recognize the name of his opponent. Julian Baker was the least impressive of the commoners to make it this far. Cheap and brutal tricks were the name of Baker’s game, with not a sign of competent swordsmanship in sight.

Nathaniel shifted the grip on his hand and a half training sword, making a few quick practice cuts through the air. The weight was awful on these weapons, but that was somewhat expected. He could compensate for the difference.

After all, he wasn’t about to lose to a common thug.

Right?
R O R Y  T Y L E R
R O R Y  T Y L E R
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"You can pick on me all you want... but you don't get to pick on them."
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▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅


▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅

Rory Anderson Tyler
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September3rd, 2004 | 19 | Caucasian
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Single | Male | Bisexual
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Ottawa | Ontario | Canada

P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
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M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S
M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S ▅▅▅▅▅▅

N O T E S
N O T E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅


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S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S
S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Rory Tyler's life hasn't been particularly remarkable. He was the oldest child of three, his younger two siblings being twins named Will and Mary. All three were born the Hype-gene, which came as little surprise when considering both parents were hyperhumans. Rory's father was a hyperhuman working for H.I.T. by the name of Cole Tyler. Cole had met Julia Morse at PRCU decades ago, as they both went through the H.E.A.T. program. Cole was placed in the Enforcement and Response Division (fitting given his Dermal Armor power), while Julia was placed in Justice Services (fitting her Passive Persuasiveness power). They kept in touch, and eventually grew to love each other. That love expanded into a loving family.

Cole served in H.I.T. for most of his prime, leaving him absent for a lot of Rory's childhood. Rory's mother was heavily involved in politics, having a heavy workload. The byproduct of this left Rory alone and to fend for himself for a lot of his childhood, and to protect and support his younger siblings. Will and Mary are 3 years younger, and are both smarter than Rory could ever hope to be. Rory spent a lot of his free time getting involved in all sorts of sports and physical activities. His younger siblings were brainiacs, and have grown up to be perhaps more intelligent than their big brother. Rory, despite loving his family and being very protective of his younger siblings, couldn't help but feel inferior to most of his family and classmates. The only thing Rory truly enjoyed more than anything was wrestling, as he enjoyed the challenge and skill of it. Even then, Rory never seemed to be particularly good at anything. He always seemed to sort of fade into the background. It's only fitting Rory's power would develop to be an ability to only copy other people briefly.

Rory opted not to attend PRCU for collegiate study, as Rory's mother's work in trying to promote equal standards of living and education for humans and hyperhumans inspired him to study at a more traditional school. Rory blended into the background, as his younger siblings attended more prestigious boarding schools. Rory kept tabs on them, but mostly just tried to fit in where he could. His powers inevitably developed while living with his parents innocuously, and took some time for the family to register the situation. Rory started wearing an inhibitor immediately, only to find himself somewhat of a social outcast. The only arena in which he seemed to be comfortable and respected in was when he was wrestling in high school. He knew he was subjected to more stringent tests and accusations of cheating due to his status as a hyperhuman, but his teammates always had his back. He competed on a national level starting his freshman year of high school. And really only his freshman year. As once the pandemic hit, Rory quit wrestling. He was alone all over again.

It is only recently that the Tyler family has been severely devastated by loss. Rory's father and mother, both of whom were forced to work in a more public capacity, were both victims of the recent pandemic. This uprooted Rory and his siblings, who were graciously adopted by their maternal aunt Lillian Morse. Lillian Morse is a staff psychologist for the students of PRCU, a hyperhuman in her own right with telepathic powers. She has been trying her best to help her niece and nephews settle in to their new life, despite having raised no children before and having limited contact with the children prior. Rory and his siblings were enrolled in PRCU, and are preparing for their first year. The twins are enrolled as sophomores in the Collegiate program, while Rory chose to enroll in the H.E.A.T. program to follow in his father's footsteps... so his siblings won't have to.
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y ||P O W E R M I M I C R Y
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION ||Esoteric
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION ||Dynamic

Rory Tyler possesses the ability to steal a charged HZE ion from a nearby hyperhuman and subconsciously alter his own body's DNA to mimic that hyperhuman's esoteric or exoteric ability. When borrowing an esoteric ability, Rory's body undergoes practically the same physical shift as the host of the "borrowed" ion for sixty seconds. His body essentially just "activates" the HZE ions already present, which are expelled through proportional use of his powers. When mimicking an exoteric ability, Rory is able to draw and increase the HZE ions he stores as other exoteric hyperhumans. This worsens his body's reaction to using the power, and severely limits Rory's "overload" limit when mimicking exoteric abilities. Regardless of which type of power Rory mimics, he currently only seems able to stabilize the use of this new power for sixty seconds, can only borrow one power at a time, and suffers an "intoxication" effect after using the power.

L I M I T A T I O N S ||P R O X I M I T Y, T I M E

Rory's two primary limits come from the range at which he can "borrow" an HZE ion from another hyperhuman, and the time through which his own body's HZE activated HZE ions are able to keep his DNA altered. In terms of range, Rory must be within 1m of an esoteric hyperhuman to absorb an expelled HZE ion. For exoteric hyperhumans, Rory needs to make physical contact with the hyperhuman through skin to skin contact to absorb an attracted ion. Once the ion is absorbed, it takes Rory seconds for his DNA to subconsciously alter itself. Once the DNA is altered, it is incredibly unstable and almost immediately begins to decay. Rory can maintain this altered state for up to 60 seconds, and his powers are limited in scope in accordance with the limitations and weaknesses of the host Rory borrowed the power from.

W E A K N E S S E S ||"P O W E R D R U N K"

The major side effect to use of Rory's powers, and what significantly inhibit his ability, comes from a strange interaction the rapid change to his DNA structure and body after mimicking another power. In order to help stand the shock and minimize the pain felt after such a transformation, Rory's body depresses the central nervous system. In some sense, this ends up mimicking the physical effects of intoxication. This typically does not kick in until Rory has finished mimicking another individuals powers. This "intoxication" is sudden and strong, and is amplified significantly if Rory has borrowed an exoteric power due to the need to purge activated HZE ions. This intoxication effect can last anywhere between minutes and hours, and seems to be influenced by the complexity of the power borrowed. The only temporary means by which Rory can forgo the intoxication effect is to borrow another power, assuming he has any dormant HZE ions in his system. At least, that's the theory. Rory hasn't tried this, for fear of the danger compounding intoxication could have on his body.

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P E R S O N A L I T Y
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Rory Tyler is a bit more on the quiet side, shy and awkward from years of unchecked teenage angst. He is friendly and supportive to those whom he considers close, seeing himself as a sort of protector to those he cares for. This has been exasperated in recent months, considering the death of his parents. Rory is obsessed with being in control of his own body and mind, refusing to drink or smoke with friends when offered. This conflict with control over himself is rooted in the nature of Rory's power: using them naturally removes layers of bodily autonomy and control after mimicking another's power. While not afraid of using his powers irresponsibly if inebriated, Rory is afraid of the vulnerability and delay in reaction time.

Rory isn't the brightest kid in the class, and is well aware of that fact. While not fully aware of it, Rory is more emotionally intelligent than academically gifted. He's self-conscious of his intelligence (or lack thereof), and is heavily embarrassed about needing serious academic help and tutoring just to get passing grades. This insecurity, especially in a school environment, lends Rory to act as a social chameleon: he mirrors the mannerisms and behaviors of those he's with in an attempt to be socially accepted. On top of this, he has a difficult time paying attention and regulating his own emotions quickly. He is almost never seen sitting perfectly still, and often fidgets with whatever he can get his hands on.




P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
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Y O U A W A K E I N T H E D E A D O F N I G H T, W H A T W O K E Y O U?

Honestly, it could be anything. I'm kind of a light sleeper. My parents sometimes wouldn't come home until after I went to bed when they were busy. So living in a dorm, where everyone keeps making noises throughout the night... take your pick. It's hard to get a good night's sleep around here.

A D I S H E V E L E D S T R A N G E R A P P R O A C H E S Y O U A S K I N G F O R H E L P, H O W D O Y O U R E S P O N D?

I would ask them what they needed, and how I could help. We have to do what we can to help other people out, or else no one will help us out when we are in trouble, you know? Maybe I'd offer them one of my power bars... Because they're hungry, right? Isn't that what disheveled means?

A N I N T R U D E R A L A R M H A S B E E N S E T O F F O N C A M P U S, H O W D O Y O U R E A C T?

I immediately text Will and Mary to see where they are. Once I know for certain they are safe or being taken care of, I would check in with my friends and whatever faculty is nearby. They'll certainly have a good idea on what to do next. If there's a disagreement... I'm not leaving anyone behind to deal with an intruder without backup, you know?
Completed Sheet, hot and ready. Will choose color coding if Rory's accepted.

Shut up and take my money, Wraith. Good thing I've got a week to churn a sheet out.



Nathaniel gave a small smirk as he watched Zen's duel. He was wrong at first glance, underestimating the Valefornian in favor of the more physically imposing teenager. Though, this was precisely why they did the duels like this to begin with. What Zen lacked in an ability to wield a sword properly, he made up for in strategy and magic. Nate turned his gaze for the first time to the others, making note of their similarly-colored hair. One was taller with red eyes, the other more his own height and of an athletic build. He reckoned, for a moment, that this is the part where they would exchange names and pleasantries.

At this point in time, none of that was of interest to Nate. He always preferred to match a name to one's skill.

“Wasn’t expecting incantations this early. Especially not from commoners.”

"Neither did I, but I'm glad. This way nobody got hurt. After all, a heavy waster like that could break, what was it? Ferros' shoulder, and a commoner might never be able to get it fixed properly. Failure and pain are one thing, but being permanently crippled is quite another."

Nathaniel's eyes turned back down to the field, where the victors were leaving the fields and being replaced by a new round of combatants. He eyed over the four winners, all skilled but in different ways. He chose to ignore the taller noble's latter sentiment. Surely they wouldn't let peasants fighting in this tournament be permanently crippled. That would be... well, irrelevant for now.

"It would be unwise to be unprepared for incantations to be used against you in these duels. It seems most of the commoners who make it through these early rounds will be using everything they have at their disposal to earn their spots. Ferros didn't just win because he knew an incantation; he used that incantation as a counter to his opponent. We'll have to see what else he can counter with incantations alone." Nathaniel paused in his speech, eyeing over Zenshin's smile and joy. "The only thing holding him back seems to be his unfamiliarity with a sword. He looked as scared of his own sword as his opponent's."

Three of the four winning duelists in this first round demonstrated impressive skill in Nate's eyes.

This was going to be fun.
Don't think I'm going to be able to keep up with this, y'all. Life got pretty hectic in the New Year out of nowhere, and I'm not sure when things are going to slow down. Love the characters and the world, and I'll still try to lurk around to see where this goes when I have time.

Cheers!



“I guess so. But they could make it seem like more of a competition. There’s four sections. One of them could be assigned to two nobles. I’unno. I just want to get out there.”

Nathaniel refused to let his gaze move from the arena below, and the four sections containing this first round’s first four matches. Before the action began, Eli’s words rang in his head. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. But something about Eli’s words and the tone indicated something beyond just a mere suggestion. There was an underlying compulsion and desire that Nathaniel was unable to quite parse. He hurriedly responded. ”Perhaps. I would prefer to see a more… exciting matchup in this first round than what we have..”

And almost immediately as soon as those words left his mouth, the matches began. The quickest start clearly came in the matchup between a small scrawny blonde boy and a large tattooed commoner. He ignored the banter, until the mood suddenly shifted. The larger boy charged with an overheaded swing, an incredibly foolish and unguarded manuever. Julian dodged back rather deftly, and then proceeded to treat the match like a gag. Nathaniel scoffed at the sight. ”An overheaded downward swing is good for nothing but chopping wood. He left himself open to a counter… and unfortunately, his opponent seems only skilled in cheap tricks and using a club. Not sure how well that will hold up in the coming duels.”

Nate’s eyes then shifted to a rather placid encounter between a boy shaking in his boots and Dot. He sighed in disappointment. Dot simply walked over to their combatant, speaking quietly for a moment. The boy made an attempt of a swing, the sort of wild swing a toddler might make feebly with a stick. Dot caught the blow and tossed away the weapon, successfully winning by disarming. ”That is a shame. Was interested to see what that one was capable of. Will have to wait until the next round, I suppose.”

Nate’s eyes then turned to the last two duels. He didn’t pay much attention to Cyrus Locke, who had ended his duel with a simply parry and riposte that his untrained opponent was unequipped to defend against. The boy had fallen to the ground from the blow to the gut, and the knight overseeing was merciful enough to declare a winner. Cyrus’ eyes turned to the audience, meeting Nathaniel’s among the nobles. Cyrus flashed a cocky smirk, before turning to walk off and leave his opponent to wobble his way onto his feet. Nathaniel recognized the challenge when he saw it. He could only hope to get a chance to answer it today.

Lastly, Nate’s eyes turned to the last remaining duel. The matchup seemed rather one-sided… but who knows. Maybe the Valeforian would surprise them all.
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