Felix Wellington Sbarge

[Felix Sbarge]

Felix Wellington Sbarge

....the mask

Your Name: Valan
Where did you find us?: Your advertisement on Psychosis Rebirth
How long have you been roleplaying?: 10 months
Password: [admin edit!]

...basic character information

Birth Name: Felix Wellington Sbarge
Nickname: Edge
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual/bisexual (still discovering
Religious Views: Lutheran
Nationality: Irish
Age: 17
Grade: 11
Birth date: 4 July
Program: Bachelor of Arts
Major: Fashion Design (pm request sent...)
Major Explanation: Felix has always been into the "Why" of wearing clothes. He wears what he does for many reasons besides appeal. Clothing can hide or embellish a body, distract of draw attention to a person. What you wear is who you are, just like the crowd you hang out with. He very artistic and an good sketcher, always thinking up new ways someone might wish to appear, since fashion, to him, should be personal and unique to each person. As an American Mink, the animals fur is soft and silky, often used in woman's fur coats and other expensive clothing, this being an indirect influence toward Felix's choice of a major.
Animal Identity: American Mink

...personality

Likes:

• Sleeping: It may seem like he's lazy, but sleep keeps him from fidgety and being anxious. He's quite the fan of the term "Walk it off" except with sleeping...
  
• Jogging: When he's not asleep, that is. A good run always helped him clear his head and piece things together.
  
• Cats: Something about the comforting purr they make when they're happy. Sometimes he even wishes he was one or had one as a pet.
  
• Sailing: Ever since he was a child, his parents owned a small fishing boat and he has gained quite a knack for sailing one himself. Everything about the ocean, the sounds, smells, and sunsets, calls to him.
  
• Helping: Felix loves to help people, be it in school of out. He's the kind of guy you can trust to pick you up after a party or to engage your parents while you sneak into the house later. He'll gladly give counsel to anyone.
  
• Guitar: One of his hidden talents, the ability to play guitar like no ones business. He loves to play acoustic, the twang sound very relaxing to hear, but he's got an electric around as well.
  
• Being Alone: Every now and then, he feels he has to get away from others, since he focuses too much on the movements they make when talking or simply standing.
  
• Logic Puzzles: Any good mystery, especially about the past, and so long as there's no death involved. Like where the hell this island is exactly, or who created it, who built the school, are there any hidden rooms? The usual.
  
• Walking with his eyes closed: Something in the thrill, in figuring out where he is and where he's going through other means. Felix has become quite a natural at experiencing a world without sight just because. This hobby eventually allowed him to move about in the dark really well.
  
• Patterns: He loves to repeating things, like wing beats, heart beats, breathing, waves, anything that makes a steady rhythm or fits perfectly together like those mind puzzles.
  
• Both Genders: Bisexual would be the more correct term. He's quite open and willing to flirt with either as well as explore other options.
  
• Music: His singing voice isn’t the brightest, but it's got a rough nature and at least he's always on key. But even just listing to music makes him feel alive. He loves it enough that he'd like to start his own band one day.
  
• Climbing Trees: Human or mink form, there’s just something about being in a tree. Too bad he doesn’t do heights much.

Dislikes:

• Crowds: Lots of humanity in one place makes him uncomfortable, makes him feel as if he isn't worth much. Not that he'll admit this to many people.
  
• Being Still: For the most part, Felix feels that he has to be doing something. He feels that even if it's pointless, he has to do it, making him really fidgety in class.
  
• Attention: He hates having others notice him all the time. He doesn’t mind socializing, but he tries not to do anything attention grabbing.
  
• Meat: Fish is a step for him, a nice one that so far has gone untarnished by his "vegetarian" diet. But it made sense to him, not liking meat in the firs place.
  
• Being called "Gay": Felix is bisexual by nature, so for one thing, it's not even the correct term. For another, using any term like that in a derogatory fashion is incorrect and rude.
  
• Water: Rain is fine, it's just getting completely soaked that bothers him, makes him feel as if he's drowning or suffocating. As such, he hates swimming.
  
• Yogurt: As a child, it was something his mother tried to feed him everyday. He got bored of it and now doesn't want anything to do with it.
  
• Lying: He hates not being told the real or whole story. As a history buff, he wants to know the facts. Besides, liars remind him of his brother Jason, the one with the knack for getting Felix in trouble.
  
• Little Kids: On the surface, he finds them annoying. Deeper down, Felix has always envied them their childhood, seeing as his always seemed to be cut short one way or another. He hates them for what time they have.
  
• Drinking: His mother drank sometimes and every time she did, she did and said crazy, mean things unlike any mother ever should. Those memories hurt him and made him more aware of the negative effects.
  
• Brightness: The darker the better, in his case. Come to think of it, most of his sleeping is done during the day...
  
• Swearing: "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord your God in vain."

Fears:

• Killing: He's afraid that what happened the first time he shifted might happen again. He is also a pacifist, so a lot of his views of his self-esteem have gone down in the past three years. He’s also afraid of any sort of weapons as well.
  
• Shifting: Contrary to many students, he has this foreboding that every time he shifts into his animal form, something bad will happen and so he rarely changes, making him a rather odd student in the academy
  
• Heights: He's never had a good head for being alone with the wind and shy and the looming ground. Best he stay closer to gravity's center
  
• Being shoved in a pool: Or a lake. Or anything with water in it where he can't touch the bottom.
  
• Bugs: Enough said.

Strengths:

• Smart: He's quite the intellectual, when he's paying attention. However, a lot of the time, he keeps his ideas to himself, rather than sharing. He hates calling attention to himself.
  
• Charismatic: When he wants to be. He's usually a charming personality on the surface, able to get others to like and appreciate him.
  
• Mediator: Felix is one of those mediator types of people, always trying to please everyone to the best of his abilities. He likes things to run smoothly.
  
• Openness: For the most part, he's a very intense character, yet very willing to make friends or any kind. And he can occasionally be a good flirt.

Weaknesses:

• Pacifist: It's a strength in a sense, but Felix has never managed to even visualize himself fighting someone. Let alone killing them, such as what happened the first time he shifted. And of course, there are those who would consider him lesser than them just because he won't physically fight back.
  
• Annoying: Somewhat of a clingy guy, with only a few friends and sometimes his "charming" remarks aren't taken under the same humor he uses.
  
• Low Self-esteem: Though he doesn't always act it, he's a very sensitive guy, made worse by also have self-esteem issues.
  
• Bottles Up Emotions: As open as he is about his history and family and whatnot, he doesn't like to let others see how he really feels about everything that has happened to him.

Overall:
Felix isn't as complicated as his likes and dislikes might make him out to be. He'd always been the quite, sensitive type before his first shift happened. After that, his sensitivity went up, bringing with it a few of his previously background traits, and tearing down his self-esteem and self-worth.

He became a pacifist when he started high school. After his first shift and the events it caused, his parents, though separated by this point, out of confusion, fear, and concern, sent him to private boarding school in California. He vowed after the event that he would never harm anyone of anything again, if he could help it, in an effort to repent and repay what had been lost to his unconscious actions of that day. He was continually picked on at boarding school, first for simply being new, then for not fighting back. Every attempt of his teachers to have him learn defensive fighting failed no matter the technique. Not even his parents could convince him to change his mind. And so, a pacifist he remains. However, he never backs down from a fight. True, he won't punch you back, much like the punching bag, but also like the punching bag, he won't/can't run away. Does he want to? Sure. Will he? No. Why? That's for you to find out.

Being bisexual was also a charge against him in boarding school. Not that he cared, at this point.

The junior takes everything; action, inaction, words both said and unsaid, to heart. Of course, when only half the truth is explained, this makes him quite a bit to trusting of human nature. Of course, this is something he prefers. Trusting in human nature is, to him, better than not trusting it to begin with. Everyone is capable of placing trust in, yet sometimes, they aren't worth it. And Felix always feels he has to learn this the hard way. Suspicions never cease to scroll through his mind.

At heart, he's an artist. He loves music, both taking part in it and being a bystander. He's always thinking of something to do with his hands, something to design, something different. Felix loves to make useful pieces or art however, not just simple paintings or sculptures. Making functional master pieces suits his realistic attitude perfectly. Now if only he were slightly more of an optimist... Fashion was always where he new his destiny lay. Architecture was too much math, culinary was too short-term, and music was only a side job with too many variables. But in clothing, he'd had that figured out long ago as something he could best achieve, despite procrastination.

Felix was always the quiet type, always keeping himself just at the edge of the light, always smiling at the way the world moved about seemingly without him. Sometimes, it scared him. Sometimes, it pleased him. Other times, it makes him cry. His own intensity was likely what made him so sensitive and so much more the backstage team player instead of the take charge guy he could have been. It's the lacking self-esteem, you could suppose.

Religion is another factor in Felix's life. He's a Christian. Lutheran, if one wishes to be exact, but he's not the most pious guy in the world. He hates swearing himself, but he won't go out of his way to express this to others who do. He's to shy for that. But he's got enough faith to refrain from it himself.

He's a very playful person, natural curious about how things work and more importantly why they work that way. He has a near photographic memory, but usually some sort of trigger is required to unlock long forgotten images. He can learn things easily, doing it right the very first time. Of course, this makes his weakest subject English, where the answers are so broad. Not that he still isn't a straight "A" student, somehow with his slow-to-get-around-to-it attitude.

...appearance

x x

Celebrity Play By: David Tennant
Appearance:
Human:
Quite the thin, wiry character with much more agility than muscle, he has semi-broad shoulders and a simple, fit physique; not wimpy, but not strong either, all simply owed to his love of running and jogging and the occasional workout. Felix is roughly 5'5" at the moment, still growing as most boys his age and weighs around 115 lbs. His hair is allowed a little free reign, as far as length, the teen not being too particular about how he looks. Generally dark brown, he's been known to dye it different colors ever now and then. As for the style, that's even simpler than the color; he just gels it forward and lets it stick however it wants though some of it always eventually defies his will and lies flat or falls across his forehead.

His eyes are dark blue, darker still than navy and if you look at them just right, you might see the silvery flecks in the irises. But they're a rare sight, even for Felix in the mirror. The thoughtful irises are always lit up with some idea or other, giving a pleasant, self-satisfied cast to his face that could only be completed by his smile. That in itself is something hard to come by on some days. Clean shaven, with only the slight ability to grow a beard should he want one, Felix has a round jaw with the faintest hint of a pointed chin. His lips are always pressed just so together and that, combined with his deep blue eyes, adds a light intensity to his persona.

Clothing has always been something he was interested in, as is indicated by his major. Felix loves layers, loves interchangeable clothing, pockets, zippers, things that can be turned inside-out, and contemporary/futuristic designs. The classic wear of our teen is usually jeans, blue or black, though he's a fan of cargo pants, cameo style as well. His favorite style with cargoes is to zip off the legs to make shorts, but leave the disconnected legs around his boots. And his boots are always boots. Even in summer. Cowboy boots, riding boots, hiking boots, army boots, paratrooper boots, desert cameo boots, whatever you can think of.

As for tops, he's a fan of tighter tees or long-sleeved shirts, since he's got just enough muscle built to pull it off. Over this plain t-shirt of whatever color he wishes, Felix will often sport a vest, thick or thin, pockets or no. In summer, he’ll roll up long sleeves or roll one up and leave the other down. He's also a fan of hoodies and parkas, the more the merrier. Yet you can't forget his collared shirts. He is quite ravishing in a simple polo, collar popped, arms crossed. Of course, he's the same way with the dark blue trench coat always seen hanging lonely in his closet. Sometimes you wonder if he ever wears it.

Watches are, to him, a necessary accessory. He favors the old-fashioned analog with a leather band, finding it quite amusing to turn it to someone when they ask the time, and watch them try to decipher the meaning of the ticking lines. Being left handed, he wears it on his right wrist, along with a simple, black leather, half-braided band with the name "Edge" inscribed in it. Around his neck can usually be found a set of Bose headphones, thin black cable snaking around to one pocket or another. Tucked underneath all this, a simple silver chain necklaces hangs, weight down by a thin silver woman's ring. You'll have to ask him who's it is.

Covered by his own style of clothing are the scars of an unfortunate childhood incident. The tooth marks of an angry, hungry mother mountain lion make a jagged ring across the left side of his neck and his left shoulder. The big cat’s deadly back claws left a collage of scars all along his left hip and lower back. Its front claws, gripping him around the torso, each dug their own set of five puncture wounds, one set on his right shoulder blade, the other over his left breast. His heavy, very concealing cloths are attributed rightly to these scars, and to cover those around his neck, he is partial to wearing bandannas and scarves about it.

Animal: American Mink:
His fur is dark brown, just like his hair in human form, but in the sun, it glints a brilliant burnt orange, a mini raging sunset in the making, like amber glass melting. His fur is thick and glossy, nearly water resistant. His paws are webbed, making him a natural swimmer, yet he continues to hate water.

Unfortunately, not particular markings grace his furry counterpart. He keeps considering getting a pattern of some kind stained in, but then, he’s never in that form anyway. His tiny ears are cute darker points on his lithe figure, his eyes still retaining their dark blue, though smaller and more beady. The fur just before the tip of his nose and along his short snout if the softest of anywhere on his form, even trumping the luxuriously silky-sleek tail that very nearly floats along behind him, careful not to brush against things for fear of knocking something over.

When in motion, his steps are quick, yet still perfectly placed, a concentrated scamper across the lawn. Picking up speed, his lope is just slightly lopsided, the hushed remaindered of the mountain lion attack. But it doesn’t hinder his speed, only his elegance. Leaps and bounds of astonishing distances can be achieved even in his furry little body, no more than two feet long plus his tail and six inches tall at the shoulder.[/size]

...history

Parents:
Father: Ewan Sbarge
Mother: Tracy Sbarge
Siblings:
Oldest Brother: Logan
Middle Brother: Jason
(Youngest: Felix)

Felix was born to a typical American middle class family. The only notable point in that was that both his parents were of fairly pure Irish decent, hence the smooth accent he carries. His family kept Shifting secret, under the rug. He lived in Arizona for most of his life, their house owner of the biggest yard in their neighborhood and having the advantage(as then three young boys would see it) of being backed up to a thinning, dried out wood overgrown with thickets, vines, and wild flowers. As children, he and his brothers spent hours in those woods, hiking, exploring, play fighting, paint-balling,.. Anything they could think of.

His father worked as a football coach at the local high school, always encouraging his sons to excel in sports, especially football. Jason and Logan were more than content with this drive into sports, loving the pride and violence that the game mandated. But Felix was too much standoffish, too wary of violence from being picked on by his brothers and those at school. Besides his thinner frame than his brothers to begin with. His father still continued to press him into sports with an iron fist, but Felix refused and convinced his mother to enroll him in guitar lessons at the age of eight, to show his father he was doing something he liked.

One of his most vivid and life changing childhood memories took place at the age eight. He and his older brothers were exploring the woods by their home, venturing further than they ever had. Of course, with one brother being 14 and the other 11, both older than himself, there seemed little to worry about. Nothing had ever happened to them before. The trio hung out around a large rocky outcrop they'd discovered, eating their smuggled lunches. Unknown to them, the smell of cold chicken was a quite powerful urge on many the nearby wild life. Especially hungry mountain lions. The brothers bounded from rock to rock, testing their skills against gravity, seeing how far each could jump and still stick the landing. More often than not, Felix missed many of the jumps, too small to reach, but he survived each fall, tough little dare devil that he was. That is, he survived each fall until he got one foot caught on a hidden root, instantly breaking his leg near the ankle.

The mountain lion took this as her chance. She sprang from hiding in the lower rocky scruff, grabbing eight year older Felix violently from his screaming, wailing, painful perch. Back in the brush, she dug her front claws one into his right shoulder, the other to his left breast, her fangs closing around the left side of his neck and part of his thin shoulder. But his brothers were both brave enough to attempt to frighten off the mountain lion. Whatever they managed (he didn’t see, having passed out, and he never asked) worked, and the puma fled, but not before catching her back claws, perhaps by accident, against his side.

That accident left him debilitated for nearly two years as he worked through therapy after therapy to get as much use of his left hand and arm back as he could. Walking was something he could still manage with a crutch, so to him, it was al about learning to write again. Or course, with all the extra time, he taught himself to write right handed, not quite making himself ambidextrous, but close enough. His parents stayed a couple only as long as it took him to recover. Them they divorced. Quietly, out of guilt really, not anger of lack of love. And so he was left separated from his brothers and mother, the Arizona house was fenced in, and his father became so overprotective, he forgot he wanted his youngest son on the football team. Those two years, he wrote lots of letters. Until his first Shifting.

It was a day some time in late August. He was thirteen, in seventh grade. He and his father were out buying ice cream cones, having biked to the local park. His father, Ewan, ran into some friends while there so he stopped to talk with them, allowing Felix to explore the playground after much convincing. Felix immediately tackled the rope ladder, then the plastic rock wall up and down a few times, before boredom overcame him. So he progressed to the towers and slides and hidden puzzles and moving bridges. Going down the tallest slide, he began to feel odd, as if everything was suddenly liquefying and stretching bigger and bigger. At the bottom, he stumble underneath the playground and vomited, his head flaring in pain, body shivering. And then it happened.

He Shifted into an American Mink, a small, weasel-like creature with a thick, silky brown-black coat. And as with every time a Shifter had there first experience, he went crazy, senses overwhelmed by the nearness of so many people, instinct bellowing at him “fight of flight” and in the flood of humanity, it was too much to tell which was best. So he’d opt for both. He ran, sprinting, little feet flying across the shredded rubber wildly. A child around seven seemed to spring from nowhere into his path and he launched himself uncontrollably at the kid’s face, biting and scratching and growling, tasting blood. And that was what brought him back somewhat, the taste of blood other than his own in his mouth. Felix didn’t understand, but he knew he’d done something terrible. So he just kept running.

His father found him curled up under the master bed inside their home. Felix didn’t understand what had happened, couldn’t clearly remember, but his father explained. See, he was a Shifter too. Their mother didn’t know. He didn’t know whether Jason or Logan were, but Felix could. And so his father explained the story, coaxing Felix back to human form. And then Ewan showed his youngest son his animal form, a beautiful, huge blue heron. Felix felt better, but was still uncertain, still guilty, still unwilling to accept it. And so he vowed to never Shift unless necessary and to never harm another living thing.

Felix had always considered himself a ladies man. They liked the silent, sensitive type well enough. But during his last week of eighth grade, he encountered a boy who seemed infatuated with him. After letting the kid follow him around one day, Felix took the matter up with him. But he wasn't angry or embarrassed, he was curious. Something just seemed to click inside him then, that there were other options besides females. And he'd been missing out for years.

He’s had numerous boy friends and girl friends, but never anything serious. Most grade-schoolers of his orientation aren’t too certain they want it. And besides, he’d since moved to Ohio with his mother for high school and a month later sent to a private school in California. And now, he’s here.

...connecting human to animal

[/i][/b][/size][/color][/right]
Both Felix and the American Mink are curious by nature. And they both love water, though where Felix doesn’t like swimming, he loves sailing. Minks are also intelligent creatures, smarted than cats, ferrets, and even some primates, making them suitable matches by power of the mind. Both are unassuming creatures. One doesn’t take as much notice of a mink as they do of more commonly known/larger animals and the same can be said of Felix as compared to others. And neither are the strongest of the group. Heavy on the side of shear will, but not heavy on the physical points, they are both very stubborn explorers. And very roguish looking at moments.

...literacy

RP Sample[/i]

Felix shut the door behind him softly. He leaned against it, his back flat to the closed portal, right palm flat, left hand in a barely trembling fist. It was all pain. Pain and anguish and this place.

He hated this place. Hated it with a passion. Hated himself for hating it, hating the hate. He wasn't supposed to hate. Too good for that. So why could he only look upon himself with more mate, more disgust?

Pull yourself together. If you're so beat up over something happening to you here, there'll be no end to it. No end to the questions, no end to the fearing, to the knowing.

The young man peeled himself from the door, feeling like a piece of over used adhesive with too much dust and fuzz stuck all over him. Too much pain. One day, he would get away from this house and all the painful memories.

His hands met the edge of the counter, his weight on them forced. Gaze locked on the sink drain, on things spiraling away before he knew what they were. Tiredly, his eyes met his reflection in the grimy mirror of a lost dog; haunted but still hopeful, hungry but still breathing and too dumb to realize that no one would feed it. Feed him. No one around to do that.

Except his father. Maybe. The only nourishment from him, the only kindled sparks, the only flickers of hope, were bread crumbs. Ewan didn’t seem to understand his youngest son. In fact, of all his children, he understood Felix the least. And yet he was the one assigned to stay with his father. Too much empty, not enough full in the man. Too much missing. A sieve that Felix kept trying to fill up when, damn it, he was the one who needed help!

He twisted the cold water knob with his right hand, splashed clean, cold water across his face. That woke him up. He shoved the mental pleas back to their cages and redid the locks. Threw away yet another set of keys. Give it three, maybe four hours before the rust set in.

Best to keep his hands busy now. Or rather, hand. His left was acting up again, like every time it did after he Shifted. Like every time after that stupid mountain lion failed to eat him. Sometimes, he thought life would hurt less if she had succeeded. He nearly paused for that thought, but the majority of his self refused. Not another spiral. Not so soon. Not so soon…

Felix started the shower. Found a towel, found some soap, a wash cloth, some shampoo. All with that haunted fatigue in his silver flecked irises. In his face. The mirror taunted him with it every time he passed. What was the point? it seemed to coo. You’ll be leaving here in three days, aren’t you happy? So why think of how you’ll leave this place?
But it was more than the house, more than the woods, more than the town and the high school and the state. It was society, human society, which frightened him.

He sat on the bench across from the showers to untie his boots. He was trying to use his left hand instinctively. It was torture. Felix found he could pull out on the laces right-handed. Granted he could convince his thumb and forefinger to close on each other. Too mind bending at the moment. To harmful to his conscious. Instead, he settled for his teeth. His therapists would be enraged that he gave up so easily and would insist he practice left-handed more, to get rid of the stitches and lack of movement. But they didn’t understand that it was only this bad after Shifting. How could he explain that to them? How could he even create a believable story? He couldn’t claim sports injury; he didn’t play one. And guitar did not make one’s hand hurt to the point of immobility, unfortunately.

Just over two minutes later, he sat up, leaning victoriously against the wall. Finished! Felix thought triumphantly. He used his other foot to give himself leverage on the loose boot and pulled his foot free.

That reminded him he still had the other boot. Shit.

The shower hummed shrilly to itself. Steam rose. It was times like these that man should only have one foot. Five minutes into his shower and now out of his foot gear, he was still fully dressed.
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