( jacob anderson, thirty-four, male, he/him ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that CORYN ST. CROIX is a a/n GRAPHIC NOVELIST that works in SECTOR 10. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of ABILITY IMPRINTING. That must be why they’re CREATIVE and ANTI-HERO. If you ask me, they remind me of a love affair with the moon, graphite stained hands, the smell of cocoa butter, southern drawl and mannerisms. They are affiliated with THE MUTANT'S SOCIETY.
basic information:
character name: coryn st. croix
nickname (s): cor, chesire cat
face claim: jacob anderson
mutation status: gen ii
birthday: May 2nd
sexuality: pansexual
moral alignment: neutral good
occupation: graphic novelist
work sector: ten
affiliation: the mutant's society
3 positive traits: calm, intelligent, charismatic
3 negative traits: apathetic, blunt, cold-blooded
questionnaire:
how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?
it's an adjustment. coryn preferring his native city of new orleans over all. nevertheless, he makes due with the personal and professional connections he's made throughout his time in the capital; hoping to use them to further his goals.
do they trust the council’s leadership? why or why not?
he understands the necessity behind the council; their purpose in keeping the citizens of various settlements safe. but he doesn't trust them to have his best interests at heart. whatever those may be.
if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?
wasn't his choice but he's happily accepted his place within this new world order. for now.
what’s one object that they always keep on their person?
a leather bound sketchbook
(mutant only section)
what is your character’s ability (or abilities)? ability imprinting
are they gen i or gen ii? gen ii
what can your character do? what are their strengths? coryn can copy the abilities of people that he has an understanding of; the deeper his understanding, the higher the skill level reproduction. multiple mutations grant him a very wide variety of options in combat, and he can combine borrowed skills to create compound attacks with devastating effects.
what can’t they do? what are their weaknesses? if his understanding of someone is low, only part of their skill is activated. also, he cannot steal the original users' proficiency and is therefore limited by his own skill with his borrowed powers.
is there anything else you’d like to specify about them? he's of creole descent. speaks with a heavy cajun accent.
"i suppose it's a good thing that i'd gotten a set of armor commissioned... but i was hoping to have a little more time for my art. are you in service yourself, dear?"
❝if the armor is unsatisfactory, you're more than welcome to toss my name around the phoenix merchant guild. my sister is quite reputable when it comes to commissioned goods.❞ remarked coryn, arms outstretched as he basked in the sun. a NOLA boy through and through. ❝other than chapter deadlines. not really. besides, the curfew is hell on my nocturnal tendencies.❞
"it could always be worse... that doesn't mean it couldn't be better, either. i'll be much happier when they've quit their nonsense and allow us to be creative again. for the love of it all, i don't even have thumbs!" she does, on the other hand, have five extremely sharp knives on each paw. those can be helpful. "but i should have known you could find a fate worse than that," she admonishes, ears twitching with amusement. "next you'll suggest i pull a sleigh."
❛you're such a pessimist, kali but I love you, anyway.❜ chuckled coryn as he shook his head in humorous mirth, aware that the female polar bear had a point. after all, life was an unpredictability in itself. ❛you should never let circumstance dictate your influx of creativity. that's how they win.❜ remarked the southern gentleman, known for coloring outside the lines. so to speak. rebellion, a tool for survival as well as a form of therapy. for no one could tell coryn st. croix who he was or wasn't. that was for him to decide. ❛that's because you make it easy to poke fun at you, my dear friend. your reactions are so picturesque.❜ he coyly explained, winking at kali with pure and utter mischief. ❛if the weather gets any worse the council just may. for we all know the value of a competent delivery service.❜
She can feel someone watching her. Studying her. It instantly sets her teeth on edge. The Sol-Guard had been in charge of stopping some of the chaos created by the natural disaster, and her patience with being forced to babysit grown adults was wearing thin. Scepter at her side, her voice snaps harshly across the space, "What do you want?"
the inquisitiveness never left his almond tinted gaze. coryn saddened by the fact he doesn't have pencil and paper. though, it's highly impractical at the moment. given the city's state of emergency. the only weapons on hand are his grandmother's hooks. and while coryn is far from the prodigal weaver, he can hold his own. ❝now, is that any way for one of sol city's heroes to act? less you want to sink the reputation of the sol guard that is.❞ he counters, committing her movements to memory if only to use them later.
"i suspect you're as disappointed as i am with the outcome. can you believe they have me on food service? me? they're lucky i'm as good-natured as i am."
❝eh, it could be worse.❞ shrugs coryn with an easy going flair. understanding why he's been tasked with accompanying kali on this particular food service. he's charming, which gives others a sense of ease in disastrous times. not to mention, his mutation comes in handy. hence coryn's now acquired cold resistance. ❝they could have put you in a santa suit.❞
“ you're trespassing . i'm not obligated to speak to you at all, let alone carefully . i should have security come and collect you from here . however, i'm sure they'd be useless, seeing as how you managed to slip past them to begin with . ” as extraordinary as his hearing is, it's all for not when he hardly understands whatever the man is drawling . “ it's astounding how you're so bothered with my tone, when you're the one here without any official clearance . so again, why are you in here, and what could you possibly want ? ”
coryn merely shrugs his narrow shoulders in response. unfazed by the other's blatant rudeness, figuring he was the type to play with pill bugs instead of actual children in long forgotten youth. those kind were always a little touched in the head as his grandma would say. ❛not bothered. merely stating the clear fact of your lack of social awareness. and just as you're not obligated to speak to me, I am not bound to answer any inquiry you have for me.❜ not for free, anyway. the debonair man adds, doodling away in his notebook. coryn capturing every detail of wildlife while pondering its possibilities.
location: ground zero for the soon to be botanicals garden will operate / the holding quarters for where all oases fungi and plants are kept for research for the hardy project .
synopsis: pretty much your muse somehow / way found their way into the restricted area . . . by accident ? on purpose ? up to you ! maybe they've heard the strange conspiracies / rumors circulating about what's really being researched and wanna get to the bottom of it all . . .
“ they're out for viewing . not to be touched . these assets are incredibly toxic, and i'm still researching them, so keep all limbs to yourself . ” with a practiced ease, he drops a protective covering around each specimen . assuring they wouldn't be disrupted by uninvited party . “ this isn't an attraction . . . or at least not yet it isn't . why are you in here ? ”
❝oh dear god, they're multiplying.❞ is the only response that seems to echo in the open space of the botanical garden. the graphic novelist reminded of a certain doltz and her love for all things poisonous regarding fungi. has more of her heinous cult infiltrated the inner workings of sol city?! just what did dottie promise this poor, socially ill-equipped fool? ❝you definitely got a way of talkin to folks, don'tcha? might wanna be careful with that tone. or else someone might think you're starting a fight.❞ he added, hands shuffled in the depths of his silk pockets. coryn relaxed as ever.
"You're telling me that with your genius level anatomy knowledge," she says, "That you're not using it to draw boobs? Because that's the first thing I'd do, if I had your skill." Jolene arches a brow, as if she finds Coryn's claim impossible to believe. "I see, so you do draw from life."
of course, it fucking is. thought coryn with sarcastic mirth. wondering what percentage of jolene's brain actually manage to fabricate a coherent thought; one that did not revolve around sex! then again, they might just combust into sheer nothingness if the effort was ever made. better to let sleeping jolene's lie. ❝yes, because life is more than just boobs. male, female, or in-between.❞
"always something to say with you, isn't it?" she teases back, gruff. "i wanted to talk to you about doing some artistic work for me, if you were open to it."
❝I cannot help the fact that I love to use my brain.❞ chuckles coryn in response, offering the polar bear a toothy grin in conjuction. ❝is that so? then tell me, what is it you have in mind?❞
"You’re practically glowing, you know that? It’s unnerving," Kalani says, her voice rough from sleep but threaded with a lazy sort of amusement. She stretches, arms arching over her head as her spine pops in protest, a low groan slipping out before she drops her hands to her lap. When she finally looks at him, the kitchen light spills across her face — soft, amber, catching the tired curve of her mouth and the faint shadows beneath her eyes. For a heartbeat, she looks at him the way someone looks at the sun after a long night underground: cautious, grateful, still learning how to believe in warmth again.
“I’m… okay,” she says after a pause that feels longer than it should. The word lands unevenly, not quite truth, not quite lie. “Better now that I feel like me again. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until it was gone.” Her hand drifts down to Echo, absently scratching behind his ear as his tail thumps against her leg. “Still—beats toying with the dead. Guess I’ll take the trade.”
Her eyes flicker up toward him then, soft and searching for half a second before her smirk edges back into place, sly and familiar, rescuing her from sincerity. “So what’s this, then? You making breakfast because you missed me, or because you missed having someone around to critique your culinary crimes?”
❝only you would find my joy to be so— unnerving.❞ responded coryn with a low chuckle. head cocked while observing the relaxed brunette. truth be told, he's never seen kalani entirely at peace. always some remnant of herself retaining tension and stress. whether it'd be mental, emotional, or physical. not that coryn doesn't relate or empathize. it's probably the reason why he hasn't scratch that particular surface yet. not without the proper tools, of course. though, he doubts he'll ever have them. so to speak. coryn his own mess of hidden pathways to uncovered trauma.
he doesn't comment on the word usage to describe her state of being, deciding that okay would suffice for now. after all, they had succumbed to quite an ordeal. out of body, out of personal depth. and while coryn fared well enough, the same could not be said for present company. ❝hopefully, that will be the last of such unpleasantness. I prefer being a jack of all trades than a master of none.❞ added the novelist with a charismatic wink, tossing echo a few strips of crispy bacon. or was it wild boar? either way, it's delicious.
he's quick to notice the suble shift. no matter how practiced the expression may be. then again, it's hard to deceive the people who know you well. those who take inventory of your various states of growth and change. for the better or worse. ❝I am making breakfast because someone has to feed your ungrateful ass.❞ chimed coryn without fail, matching her sarcasm with his snark. ❝just for that, I'm giving echo all your bacon.❞
❝looking for me? oh, mistress of the north?❞ muses coryn in jest, eyes sparkling with his particular brand of mischief. ❝I am all yours. what do you require?❞
