Brian CampbellCartesian
Brian s'arrêta à l'extérieur de l'infirmerie et, avec un sourire vif, jeta un coup d'œil sur ses pieds nus et ses mains et pantalons un peu ensanglantés. Merde, le sol était froid. Avec une posture légèrement endormie et une partie de son épuisement montrant sur son visage, il retourna à la salle d'entraînement. Il a récupéré des fournitures de nettoyage et a nettoyé le désordre dans la salle d'entraînement.
Une fois que cela a été fait, il s'est dirigé vers les toilettes et a lavé le sang de ses mains. Après cela, il se dirigea directement vers sa chambre et se dirigea droit vers sa table de nuit. Il a ouvert le tiroir du haut et a récupéré son briquet et un paquet de cigarettes. De sa commode, il a récupéré une paire de chaussettes et une autre paire de pantalons et les a tirés. Ses cigarettes et son briquet sont entrés dans la poche du pantalon. En sortant, il s'est emparé de son manteau et s'est mis les pieds dans une paire de baskets. Son pantalon légèrement ensanglanté a été mis à tremper dans un lavabo dans la salle de bain avant qu'il se rende laborieusement jusqu'au magasin en haut et à la sortie de l'appartement à l'arrière.
Le temps froid à l'extérieur l'a fait frissonner un peu, et il a tiré son manteau plus serré autour de lui. Il regarda autour de lui avant de se rendre à sa place habituelle sur un banc, à 40 pieds de n'importe quel bâtiment. Il soupira et se frotta au visage avant de pêcher une cigarette et son briquet. Une profonde inhalation de tabac et d'air frais, une longue exhalation. Après quelques traînées contemplatives de sa cigarette, il se pencha et regarda le ciel gris au-dessus. Il s'assit là, la tête s'élançant contre l'arrière du banc, avant de relever sa cigarette sur ses lèvres.
Même par temps froid, il se sentait calme. Il a fumé son chemin jusqu'au brun, jetant les cendres dans un plateau de cendres portable, avant de jeter les fesses dans son plateau de cendres. Immédiatement, il pêcha une seconde. C'était une situation à deux cigarettes, c'est sûr. Il était assis là à fumer comme le froid s'est infiltré dans ses os. Ses vêtements légèrement humides n'ont fait qu'empirer. Ce n'est qu'après avoir fumé sa deuxième cigarette jusqu'au brun qu'il s'est conduit jusqu'à ses pieds et s'est préparé à entrer.
Alors qu'il bûchait jusqu'à la porte, il entrait dans sa poche et s'arrêtait à mi-étape. Un soupir presque inaudible a glissé à travers ses lèvres et il a couru son autre main à travers ses cheveux. Il a sillonné ses sourcils puis sillonné. Un autre sourire a traversé son visage. Il était vraiment fatigué aujourd'hui.
Après un moment, il a sorti ses clés de sa poche et s'est laissé rentrer.
En bas d'un escalier caché, il est entré dans les Knight Quarters en dessous. Il fit un autre arrêt près de sa chambre pour raccrocher son manteau, prendre une serviette et un changement de vêtements, et glisser dans quelques sandales avant qu'il parte vers les douches. À l'intérieur, il a raccroché ses affaires et a donné son pantalon ensanglanté dans l'évier un bon frottage. Quand il était assez proche, il a égoutté l'eau, a mis son pantalon dehors, et les a accrochés dans une cabine de douche vide à côté du sien pour sécher un peu.
La belle douche chaude a emporté le grime et les derniers restes de sang et son stress. Il s'est soudé les cheveux jusqu'à ce qu'il le déclare assez bon, puis est retourné dans sa chambre, vêtements sales dans une main. Sur son chemin, il passa par les miroirs de la salle de bains, et ses lèvres s'ébranlèrent tandis que ses yeux tombaient sur les petits restes de craquage sur son visage. Il a jeté les vêtements sales dans le panier près de sa commode, puis il s'est mis au lit.
Il a laissé sortir un gémissement étouffé avant de regarder son horloge. Le soulagement brillait dans ses yeux quand il s'est rendu compte que ce n'était pas encore dix heures du matin. S'il dormait maintenant, il pourrait encore dormir trois heures.
Avec un peu plus de vie dans ses mouvements, il a sauté dans ses bouchons d'oreille, a raccroché les couvertures et a enterré tout de suite.
Name: Brian Campbell
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10" | 178cm
Weight: 165 lbs. | 75kg
Class: Orange Cartesian
Appearance: Brian Campbell has brown hair and brown eyes. He looks a little older than he is. He's a slim and athletic. He walks with a somewhat slumped posture making him seem shorter, passive, and less athletic than he is. When he's geared up, or especially alert, his posture changes to a more military posture with his back straight, shoulders back and his chin high.
He has a tendency to wear warmer neutral colors. He prefers clothing that is comfortable and easy to move in. He favors pants over shorts.
His Knight Gear, to his chagrin, includes a long cape. It's a nice orange that fades to a pale yellow, but still, it's an extra length of fabric to be grabbed or trip over. However, he greatly appreciates the face mask portion of his outfit. It is an extra layer to protect his identity, and the material it is made of can stop a knife blade by a regular human without sacrificing flexibility.
Metal spaulders protect his shoulders, and a red heavy leather breastplate protects his chest with an extra layer of protection over his heart. His arms are protected by bracers and his shins are protected with leather greaves and his feet with solleret. A bit of armor over his thighs help protect his legs and are held in place with belts. His hands are protected by gloves.
A leather belt crosses from the right shoulder to his waist. It holds up a belt that holds a dagger and a short blade and another belt that holds a bunch of small throwing knives and darts. By his armor, it's clear he's more built for agility and speed rather than charging forward and tanking it.
   
Personality: If people were asked to describe Brian, perhaps they might call him laid back, or lazy. Brian lives life at his own pace. He's usually pretty laid back and relaxed. He stays out of trouble and he's pretty low key. He normally seems a bit unreliable and just goes with the flow most of the time.
He's adaptable, and is surprisingly reliable in a pinch. When fighting, his lazy demeanor changes. He might still talk lazily at the beginning, but he usually wants to finish things as fast as possible. The difference between him geared up and in battle and his usual behavior also helps to hide who he is.
He is actually surprisingly stubborn in some areas. One such area, is money. He's not quite a penny pincher, but he definitely has a thing about getting paid and earning money.
History: Brian was raised in an average middle class family. There was nothing particularly attention grabbing about his life. He had a little sister named Kayla. She was five years younger than him and he enjoyed spoiling her. His parents were caring and a little hands off, preferring to let him get into trouble and try to resolve it himself until he went to them for help. He was raised to be independent, but always knew there was a safety net ready to catch him if he just said the words.
All his life he always had a small group of friends. Brian himself was the type to simply wander around on the periphery of other groups. There was nothing that really stuck out about him or his group of friends. As far as the pecking order went, they were pretty much in the middle, and mostly ignored. Such a situation suited Brian just fine.
He had no aspirations to be popular or famous. He lacked the ambition for it. When asked what he wanted to do in the future, his answers were always vague. Life was comfortable, and he strolled through it.
His little sister was sporty, always energetic, and full of a cheerful exuberance. She adored soccer, and joined a soccer team in middle school. She was eleven when the car accident happened. Kayla was hospitalized, and her knee and her hip were badly injured. From what the doctors told them, Kayla would probably never play soccer again, even with knee replacement surgery.
Brian did his best to go about life as normal, but well, that wasn't possible. Hugging Kayla as she cried hurt. Watching her struggle to pretend to be as cheerful as she had been before hurt worse.
Brian and his parents got into a lot of arguments during this period of time. Never did they argue in front of Kayla.
Knee replacement surgery was expensive, their parents couldn't afford it. The hospital bills had already done a number on their finances. Brian had a college fund, but his parents insisted they weren't going to touch it. They insisted he had to go to college, insisted he needed a degree. Brian disagreed.
He could work part time. He could find some other jobs. They could use his college funds to finish paying for the medical bills. The leftovers could be put towards knee replacement surgery. He'd save up and try college out later.
Brian spent a lot of effort researching in order to better argue his points. His parents wouldn't hear anything of it, and Brian... well, Brian sorely regretted not applying himself more to school. A partial scholarship seemed unlikely, a full scholarship seemed like a pipe dream.
The tension rose in the family, and everyone noticed it. Even Kayla, so they did their best to reign it in and argued only when Kayla wasn't home or when she was asleep.
Brian's parents started putting in more overtime, and Brian picked up another part time job. In the end, Kayla was left alone most of the time if she was at home, so she started hanging out at her friend's house.
Brian was approached by an orange glowing tennis ball. It offered him a "job" or so it said. He'd get a stipend, and could work part time too. He'd have to leave his family, but there'd be money. He was a senior, he could tell them he'd found a college in New York that was willing to offer him a partial scholarship. In fact, it was even possible with the stipend that he really could go to college.
All he had to do, was participate in a little test.
If he performed well, perhaps something could be done about his sister's situation. She might be able to play soccer again. He could go to college and his parents would be relieved. After college, he'd be gainfully employed by a company related to the organization the talking tennis ball worked for.
It was dangerous work, the thing said. He might even die. However, there'd be compensation for his family in one way or another. At the very least, it was an opportunity to mend his situation.
It was a suspicious offer from a talking tennis ball.
Then again, Brian didn't really have any plans for the future. If this ended up terribly, and he was made to disappear...? Well, that would be the end of the college fund argument. If the talking tennis ball was telling the truth? Then this was an opportunity too good to pass up.
He accepted the offer.
Notes:
He smokes. He first picked up smoking after a nasty outing with the knights in which he saw a lot of people get maimed and/or killed.
His sister was healed little by little over a long period of time by an Asclepian named Laura Tilney and can now play soccer again.
Brian is actually pretty loyal to the order due to the order healing his little sister.