Rebirth

Don't you dare say I'm not a hero. -Academy of Despair Room # 177 Deaths:1 Kills:1 Executions:3

[wannabesavior-blog]

〄 say nice things about me or ill kill u

         “Probably an asshole.”

[wannabesavior-blog]

☆

         Maybe invisibility? I don’t know that’s what I think of when I see investigator.

[wannabesavior-blog]

〄 Engarde fuckboy

         ”Probably Gay. Stupid.”

[inboxideas]

Leave a 〄 in my askbox and I'll tell you the first three words that come to my character's mind at the thought of yours

[inboxstuff]

Send me a ☆ and I'll tell you what kind of super power I think your character would have if they were a super hero

[inboxideas]

Anonymously give my character relationship advice.

[wannabesavior-blog]

         I guess I jumped on the bandwagon and updated Nate's theme and autoplay as well. Maybe it'd be time for those like for starters things too? I guess I can probably take four. 

[wannabesavior-blog]

         Nate didn't know what Halloween was.

        Really, he didn't even know it was going on. He wouldn't have noticed since he cut himself off from the outside world and sat with the echo of the airport's ceiling fans and gentle hum of the fluorescent lights. It was just another day he spent talking to paper versions of his deities and praying for forgiveness and to be saved. The days blended together and he had given up. 

[sheekynami]

she raised a brow as he flinched, though she should’ve expected as much from a weak looking kid; not to mention one tangled in decorations. she didn’t even want to ask.

the pilot followed his movements with her eye, half out of interest and half out of caution – who knew what this kid would get up to? though for whatever reason she could tell he wouldn’t even attempt to lay a finger on her, and not just because of her status as an ass-kicker. perhaps she’d met him before? it wouldn’t surprise her if she had, after all, he hardly seemed memorable.

asuka sneered, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

[wannabesavior-blog]

          Emotions so easily welled up inside of Nate that he could never stop them. If it hadn't been for the crippling loneliness and hopelessness, he would have been fine; blown off this girl who seemed strangely familiar. But the emotion hit hard and he broke down into tears, wetting his creations. He wiped his face and turned away, but he knew she would make fun of him and that he blew his chance. There was so much built up within him and, with Alba's visits becoming less frequent, he only ever talked to himself. He screamed at the floor with no one to actually support him and remind him that he wasn't alone.

          But why would people lie when it was true?

         "... Just.... forget it..."

[withthismanufacturedheart-deact]

birds of a feather | nate

[withthismanufacturedheart-deact]

Konoha hadn’t considered his placement of the writing supplies very much, but the expression on the bedridden boy’s face made him realize that he probably should have. There wasn’t much to be done about it now that he was already writing over the printed information. Pink eyes followed the pen’s process, reading as quickly as the words were placed down.

The message was fairly short, the questions it provoked in the albino were not. His silence became a little heavier, filled with buzzing thoughts. “But don’t you go too?” No, that wasn’t quite what he wanted to ask. It was more of a general question. Most people went to trials, himself included. He’d never examined his motives for doing so, it was just the way things were. What he really wondered was why people - not just Nate - went at all. As far as he knew, it was a matter of necessity. “Don’t we… have to go?”

[wannabesavior-blog]

          Nate had given his "guest" a blank look, as if the answers to those questions couldn't be more obvious. Was this person new or did people really not get it that much? He stared at the paper in front of him, wondering how to phrase his words since he actually had to think before speaking for once. He had the time to recollect his thoughts and create a coherent argument. All the stuff that floated through his head that he had practiced so many times to make people understand could be expressed on his terms. Of course, it very well could be to someone who didn't care. He needed to keep personal things out of the discussion in order to protect himself. 

          He lifted his pen and pressed to to the paper once again, writing thick and heavy in order to make his text visible over the unfilled medical forms.

         .... We're told we have to but no one's made an active effort to boycott trials. No one makes any effort to leave either. Don't you see the problem in that?

[wannabesavior-blog]

         …. Trials just keep getting more and more redundant and the people keep getting shittier and shittier. No one ever gets anything done, and so Nate did what he did best after trials, mope and not get anything done besides cuss out everyone there in privacy. Fuck them. 

[wannabesavior-blog]

You ever receive the depressing realization that you will never be able to lick your own elbow, no matter how hard you may want to find out how that crispy elbow-skin tastes like..?

[wannabesavior-blog]

7, 17, 27

 How does your character perceive themselves? Positive? Negative? Neutral?

          Nate tries to view himself positively and due to that, on the surface he seems to have quite the ego, however, he lies to himself about his own self esteem as his sense of self and the value he puts on his own person is ridiculously low.

Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people?

         Nate is honestly a little bit of both. He needs people to function and enjoys being surrounded by people in order to prevent drowning in his own thoughts, but there's a threshold. Nate hates being ignored and thus, being one of the mob tends to isolate him just as much as being completely alone. He whines about not being able to do things with people, but sets himself up for failure by cutting himself off. Really, just like many things, Nate is in denial in trying to be as outgoing as his fellow competitors were back home. He wants to be an extrovert but at his core, is very to himself because of his fear of letting other people in. His outward appearance is faking charisma so he's taken seriously (it doesn't work.) He's lying to others since he doesn't trust them as well as himself and it's obvious how fake it is.

          Nate usually opens up to one or two people in small periods of time sitting on the threshold of wanting to spill everything and the fear of having his entire character put out for all to see. All humans aim to experience joy and avoid suffering. To Nate, avoiding that suffering means avoiding experiencing joy and relief with other people. It's a detrimental fear with the hopes of potentially becoming confident enough to make the transition from introvert to extrovert. He hates being an introvert and aims to change it and views that transition as his "joy" through the acceptance of others.

If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be?

         Nate never really thinks of negative things like that. Really, his father is as good as dead with no hopes of coming back, so Nate would probably be more mad at him than anything, situating himself in silence before slapping him and starting to cry. In terms of his mother, he would reassure her about the state of her flower garden and tell her that they'd make it through this. His attachment to his mother would make it so that Nate could not accept her as dead until she was completely gone. He'd talk about dinner plans when she gets out or gets better and events that they could celebrate in the future. The main emphasis would be on the garden though, taking care of it and being able to serve as a hand to make them bloom even more beautifully the next year. Nate considers his mother to be a lot like the flowers she grows and could not accept that flowers inevitably wilt. 

[lostatbat]

At first glance, it looked like blood. Caked to the visible parts of his face, smeared over his leather jacket and the white shirt that peeked out from beneath. It wouldn’t be surprising if it were, not here— this was a school of murder. Actual education would be further beyond the norm than a corpse washed up on the sandy shores of Jabberwock Island. Thankfully, this was not the case. Blood proved to be little more than dirt and grime, glued to the motionless body of an unconscious man.

Unconscious, yet starting to stir slowly as the sun crawled up over the ocean…

[wannabesavior-blog]

          He was so used to waking up early.

          Night was not comforting when one was alone in a large, cold space, so Nate always tried to convince himself to sleep early if possible. Because of that, he was able to watch the sunrise in the mornings in the outside before anyone else was awake. It provided him with a sense of warmth of nostalgic melancholy. However, while walking on the beach and enjoying the gentle calm of the shore before the heat of the day, a motionless body lay on the shore.

          His shock caused him to initially scream, not noticing how the person started to stir. This place equated everything to death; one assumed the worst and even though Nate said he wanted to avoid being transformed by this place, he already was reacting differently as norms changed. Still, he would not touch this person, nor call them out, he just starting tearing up and squeezed his eyes shut.

          “Go away!”

[sheekynami]

the airport provided some kind of comfort to asuka – maybe it reminded her a bit of home; not that it was a very good place to start with. perhaps it was the machinery, the thing that held her life together, or the fact that she’d spent so much time around both planes and the evangelion. she could remember that much. she could also remember the names of all the types of planes they had here, not that there was much of a selection.

                                             engine trouble, my ass.

a familiar voice brought her back to reality, her eye rolling at the sight of the tangled boy.

"there should be an award for this," she said, her foot tapping his small frame lightly. "you’re lucky i’m even around to help, kid."

[wannabesavior-blog]

           Nate wasn't expecting much of a response. Most treated him as invisible until he was in the trial halls and he was still throughly mad that he justified the deaths of others for a quick burst of attention. He was expecting Alba, but a strangely familiar face was staring down at him instead. He couldn't pinpoint it, but it provided him with a strange sense of dreamlike comfort. Being kicked, even if lightly, did not and despite foot tapping not hurting, the boy flinched anyways.

          Throwing off some of the paper figures, he carefully stepped over what he could and attempted to stand up, being cautious so as not to step on his creations.

          "... You don't realize it, but you're already helping."

[withthismanufacturedheart-deact]

birds of a feather | nate

[withthismanufacturedheart-deact]

The more practical suggestion spurred the tall boy into action, but he was for a moment directionless. The infirmary wasn’t exactly full of writing supplies, but it was laid out like a school. Some instinct of his drew him over to the desk in the corner, disused as there didn’t seem to be any sort of school doctor now. Sure enough, there was a messy stack of papers, some of which were forms in varying states of completion. He picked the least cluttered one and fished a pen out of the depths of the drawer before returning to Nate’s bedside.

He placed them on the side table, looking curious at the other boy. If he needed paper, then maybe he wanted to say something that would need a little more than a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Even though he had said (or well, shaken) that it didn’t hurt much, it was probably for the best that he didn’t talk.

[wannabesavior-blog]

         Nate held onto the stranger with his gaze only when the other had his back turned to him. Eyes revealed too much about a person, and so Nate had grown to fear them as they broke borders and masks more easily than any other feature. With the shuffling of paper, he settled himself back into the relative comfort of sterile sheets and disposable pillowcases, praying that this wouldn't be an extended stay, but also hoping for it. It was the first time in a while outside of trials where he wasn't left alone to his thoughts.

         The frustration on his face showed when the visitor put the papers on the table beside him. He had to exert effort just to write and bending over kinda sucked in the state he was in. Still, with a pen in hand, he wrote over neatly spaced boxes about the medical records of some student a kind and eloquent message.

         everyone knows trials are shit and so are the people who participate 

[wannabesavior-blog]

you   ᴘ ᴏ ᴏ ʀ   ᴘ ɪ ᴛ ɪ ғ ᴜ ʟ   ᴄ ʜ ɪ ʟ ᴅ …                                                                                  are  you  ᴡ ᴀ ɪ ᴛ ɪ ɴ ɢ                                                                                  for  s ᴏ ᴍ ᴇ ᴏ ɴ ᴇ   to                                                                                      ᴘ ɪ ᴄ ᴋ  you  up                                                                                               and                                                                                   dry  your  ᴛ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ s ? 

ｎｏ   ｏｎｅ   ｉｓ    ｃｏｍｉｎｇ    ｆｏｒ    ｙｏｕ 。 。 。 ｗｈｙ   ｄｏｎ’ｔ   ｙｏｕ   ｆｉｎｄ   ｙｏｕｒ   ｏｗｎ   ｗａｙ   ｏｕｔ ？