Post by cyrus on May 11, 2012 19:51:50 GMT -5
Name: Aleron Timore
Age: 27
Race: Gifted Human
Gift: Fear Inducement
Rank: Leader
Status: Single
Build: Relatively small compared to some of the other men but he’s never had the need for physical prowess.
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 175
Skin color: Average color, not too tan and not too pale
Hair style: Dark black hair that falls down into his eyes when he’s simply going about his business but is often slicked back for meetings or group events.
Personality/History: Aleron Timore had not always been Aleron Timore. Like many others, the events of the apocalypse changed him so profoundly that a new family name was only appropriate. It was especially so for Aleron. The life of his past was not even a memory now; the constantly fearful and reclusive Aleron was dead and gone. No longer would the choice be solitude or inescapable terror. The new choice, the new Aleron, would do more than take control of his own life. There would be others who would follow him or see themselves as a sniveling wreck. That would be their choice.
Early in life, his power had been nearly impossible to control; the only time he knew peace was when he was alone. Aleron was a sort of empathy, anytime he came into contact with another person he was assaulted with their emotions. Not what they were feeling but what they were afraid of. Even if they weren’t feeling it then, he knew the mild anxiety of doubt or stress and that overwhelming, suffocating true fear of death, pain, loss. It wafted from his parents when they tried to tuck him in and reassure him that the monsters were all gone. It was debilitating anytime he tried to attend school. His parents didn’t know what to do with him, their presence could send him to tears, especially as time wore on and their doubts grew stronger. He was an embarrassment, a child that would never grow up. They called him ‘mentally challenged’, put him in special programs for other kids that were like him. But they weren’t. It was here that he found emotions beyond terror. He found annoyance and exasperation. In these times, where he so desperately wished to be alone, he projected his emotion outwards. Screaming and pushing the fear until the salty tears turned into laughter. The teachers and companions would clutch their knees to their chest or run until they collapsed. Aleron learned how to smile when the people around him were huddled in corners or begging for mercy.
It never lasted. Not the relief or the ‘special homes’ but age gave him control. Fear still plagued him so he was alone as often as possible but he was able to function now even when forced with other people. They would all be uncomfortable but that was the consequence for making him come out of the room. For making him do what he didn’t want to do.
The apocalypse had been the worst though, when they were to gather together in the shelters. Such a large number of people would have been impossible to stand even when they weren’t already brimming with fear. The months of fighting were a blur and Aleron would have struggled to remember them even if he had wanted to. No, the furthest back he thought of was the scavenging where groups were only just beginning. This new world had no rules, no morals and no emotion. During those days, he cast out not just the fear but anything else that he’d felt. Joy, sorrow, anticipation, pain, pleasure all along with the fear he cast out of himself. The emptiness had been a pleasure all on its own. In these days there was the true realization that his power was truly a gift.
It meant that he didn’t have to just scrape along a living like some of the others. Traders would practically give up their wares to him whenever he needed something but most often, the markets were too large for Aleron to keep his hands from shaking. Instead, he needed a real place to settle down. A readymade group to lead and control. The Bairn was an obvious choice even before he’d heard of their government system and he found a few friends in their scouts and civilians venturing out for supplies. He joined the group easily and fortune for once smiled at him. Their leader was ill, Aleron did not even have to scare him out. All he had to do was wait and stand among the groups that gathered for the debates. He was new but when the people heard him talk about any other leading, they felt cold. Even afraid. The vote was practically unanimous.
So long as the opposition was light, Aleron ruled well. He’d been long content with the subtle growth of his group and had a true interest in seeing them thrive. They would be the strongest group. The problem was that Aleron was sick of waiting. Action would bring results. Violent actions and violent results. The thought of it made him smile.