Name: Wakeer Yeme.
Nickname: Keer
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Position: He's still trying to decide on this for himself.
Powers: His only magic contains the fundamental skills in both Fire and Blizzard. The use of these magics are simply at level one, but are to be developed in the future. Depending on the type of lifestyle he chooses over time he will learn new magic accordingly, for if he falls into darkness his magic will be destructive, and if he falls into light his magic will help and not harm.
Any unique abilities in him have yet to surface. He knows that he has to realize his own destiny before he can know what he's truly capable of. His special and unique abilities may or may not arise depending on his choices, similar to the system of magic progression, and whether or not he ever manages to truly develop them.
Weapon: Due to the fact that he participates in the struggle, he carries with him the standard club, compact with thick fabric and a heavy stature. However he handles it as if it would be a thin sword. He tries to view his moves as an art, and attempts gentle swift moves. The weight of the club ends up conflicting with this fighting style and usually knocks him off balance though.
His strategy attempts in battle are similar to that of a chess match. He tries to find ways to get his opponents in positions that it would be almost impossible for them to win. The balance constantly changing though makes him focus on keeping from being beat in the process of thinking, and by the time he's back on strategy, the situation changes and it won't apply anymore.
Overall, his weapon being a club and his style being swift, he has an extreme lack of balance or momentum, and due to this, the strategic value of what he does attempt is near minimum.
Picture:
Appearance: He is mostly thin in stature, however his height gives him issues with his exercise. Standing around five feet and 11 inches, some may call him tall and some may call him average. His clothing is a nice shade of purple, with some wear and tear making it look blue. He wears a very simple purple shirt over an orange T-Shirt, and very ripped up purple pants, that are so worn out they have completely discolored. His eyes are a brown hazelnut color with a little more brown then green outbalancing the mixture.
A feature that truly stands out is his hair. Poorly dyed over his light brown is a light purple. Due to the poorly done homemade job, in the light there is a clear brown that shows, along with some streaks of brown in the back. As for accessories he always has on a black wristband, and a leather necklace with a thin metal heart outline as the focus.
Personality: Under normal friendly circumstances, he aims to enjoy himself. Most of what makes him happy is his own sense of humor. He's one to constantly make jokes unless the situation absolutely demands otherwise. His preferred sense of humor is sarcasm, due to the psychology behind it. He believes it to be a very complex system, but so complex he can never seem to master it and use it effectively, no matter how many failed attempts he tries to make it funny, or even sensible. Other than the poor sense of sarcasm, his other set for getting a laugh among his peers would be his abnormally cheesy jokes. Most often when people due laugh at his jokes that actually have punchlines and such, they're laughing because he failed at the joke, not because it was funny.
Poor sense of humor set aside, in situations that are demanding and serious, he is never one to lack seriousness. However, his fantasies and imagination lead him to believe he can do anything as long as he's determined enough and thinks about him. Often times he is most confident in tough situations and the first to act, however his confidence also reaches the point of arrogance quite often, and he's usually the first to get hurt as well. He is very sensitive about his own capabilities, and takes his own pride and honor very seriously. However, due to the fact that he's afraid of many things, he is willing to back down when he knows for certain, even if his largest fantasies were possible, he would be unable to conquer the situation.
His common approach to such situations is own of strategy and attempts at outwitting the opponent. Often times he over estimates his own mind, similar to his own abilities, and quickly becomes stuck at a point he usually puts himself into. Fixes himself on a single strategy, Wakeer quickly becomes unable to adapt to a situation, which ends up leading to his downfall. However, in more than just battle he views things in this chess-like manner. He also views it as this when in arguments and such, viewing ideas and points as different pieces on the board.
Original World: Twilight Town
Current World: Twilight Town
History: Since he could remember, Wakeer had always watched his brother in the Struggle tournament, cheering him on, and watching him go to the finals. Every single one, for years, he could list all the moves made. He remembered every detail. However his most treasured memory of Struggle was the very first one he went to, he could recall being six years old, holding his mother's hand while he watched his big brother take the championship in the Struggle. It was a loved sport in the family.
He had fallen in love with it the first time he saw it. When he had joined school however, he was distracted by the sport at first. But at that time it seemed like nothing, he was simply a child, and children get distracted. But when he was 11 he joined his first tournament, and utterly failed. It was nothing as his childhood fancies had led them to believe they were.
The next year he spent his time learning how to fight. And quickly his efforts showed on his progress in school. His grades quickly plummeted, as he couldn't wait until summer to begin practicing. He stopped doing any work in school, and spent every waking hour sparring with his brother. No matter how hard he worked he never was able to be good at it.
At that years Struggle he had seen the fruits of his labor turn out rotten. He had lost in the very preliminaries. But it was only his second time, so he wasn't so sore he was willing to miss the rest. As he had watched the winner take out his opponent, not blocking and not taking a single hit. It was like he was dancing with the frustrated fighter, and took him out in one swift movement. Since then Wakeer had become obsessed with stealth movement, and the ability to out maneuver and out think your opponent.
He had completely forgotten about his schooling, and went on to trying to master this new style of fighting. However, he also hit his series of growth spurts, eventually he became too big to do such things, and whatever he tried it never seemed to work. When he was too exhausted to practice, he didn't spend his time on schoolwork, instead his interest shifted to the game of chess, in an attempt to gain a strategic mind.
He had become a nuisance with the game, constantly challenging people to it. But when people actually wanted to play with him, he seemed to busy practicing his struggle. After so long of not focusing on schooling, he had finally dropped out by fourteen, and was frowned upon for it in his family. He was still accepted, but nothing felt the same anymore.
After he dropped out he gained a new set of friends. Other people that had become preoccupied and couldn't make the work requirements to complete the schooling. After hanging out with these new sets of people, practicing his struggle with them, and learning the beauties of argumentative strategy, along with sarcastic humor, he had also watched their activities. This group seemed different then what society taught him was ideal. He started to question things he had learned from those that now seemed to look down on him.
By the time he had reached fifteen, he had become the laughing stock of the Struggle league, and was looked at by the disciplinary committee as a member of the ne'er dowels. His brother had taught him magic to help defend himself against unjust punishment. However, after the first few times he realized it had only made things worse. Knowing that getting employment in this town would prove difficult, and facing realities that his career of being a championship struggler was never to arise, he had reached a state of depression on thinking out the nearing future.
Role Playing Sample: Wakeer had decided to sit himself outside by a tree in twilight town. It was the one place that wasn't constantly being passed by people looking at him as he sat there and thought. He couldn't help but wonder what went on through peoples heads. Were they thinking about things? Were the things they thought about relevant to what they goal was? Or did they think like he was thinking now? After pondering for a few moments he then got to wondering about if people who walked around this town had actually set a goal for where they were going? And why do it anyway?
What was the point to the things we do? The world is busy. But busy for what? Simply so we can survive and be busy some more. And what do we do in our free time? We sit by trees and think about useless stuff.
He thought to himself, as he began to hate the activity the more he thought. No matter his hate for it, he couldn't find the motivation to get up. And soon he had overrun the engine to his train of thought, and was no longer thinking anything at all. Almost instantly as he realized this, he also realized he wasn't by his tree anymore. But instead he was sitting on the beach. Looking at the waves creep onto the shore while he lay there in the soft sand, feeling it run through his fingers as he gripped down on the ground trying to grasp it.
Some people started going by and conversation started, and his mind got lost in the empty dialogue. He was hearing them, and understanding the words. Before he knew it he had forgotten how things had started.
As he woke from his slumber by the tree he realized he wasn't at the beach. But he wanted to be. His dream told him as much. Hopping up from the base of his temporary napping place, he roughly wiped dirt off of himself, as he wondered what time it was. No one could look at the sun to figure out the time, it was always sunset in this dreaded place. As he started walking, he had craved ice cream and decided he'd stop to get some on his way to the beach.
By the time he reached the ice cream stand he had forgotten all about his dream, but not about the beach. As he walked up he handed the person the munny and couldn't help but wonder what they would end up spending it on later.
“One ice cream please” he said, putting on a smile of greeting. The smile was really for his looking forward to the bliss of having the ice cream.
“Okay. Coming right up!” said the girl at the counter. She smiled happily back, it seemed as if she was having a good day. “Here you are sir” she said just a cheerfully as she handed him the ice cream.
Looking around, Wakeer saw no one coming near the stand, and wondered what this girl would do without customers, so decided to keep her company.
“Thank you.” he said he grabbed the ice cream and took his first bite. “Beautiful day isn't it?” he said making simple small talk.
She giggled in response to this and couldn't help but smile, “I suppose, if you really care about the weather.” then she leaned in to him as if telling him a secret, “Teenagers usually don't.” she said with a smirk. He hadn't even noticed she was a teenager too. It was summer after all, probably just making her munny with a summer job.
As he realized how lame he probably looked saying that, he laughed at himself for it. “I guess that's true.” he said cheerfully. “So-” he started before being interrupted.
“Were you planning on heading somewhere by any chance?” she said as politely as you could make a comment like that seem.
“Well I was planning on going to the beach. But I figured it seems like a slow day, and it doesn't seem like a very fun job to do without customers. I thought you might want some company” he said with a smile trying to cover up how awkward the situation felt.
She smiled from the comment, but he could tell she also thought it seemed awkward. “Well don't keep yourself here on my account, by all means go to the beach and enjoy yourself.” she said, joking pushing her arms out in a shooing motion.
He laughed at her excuse. “Well it was nice talking to you then.” he said with a wave goodbye. As she waved back he turned around and walked off. As he walked he wondered whether she was having him leave because she actually felt guilty for him giving her company, or because she simply didn't want his company. Either way the result seems the same.
By the time he finished his ice cream he had decided not to go to the beach. He no longer felt like it. Instead he headed back towards his tree. To think, to watch nature, or to simply nap some more, that was up to fate. As he headed towards his tree he thought out loud “Today's just a depressing day.”
