Brian CampbellCartesian
Pieds à la nuque sortis du dessous d'un doudou à la crème rongée. Le propriétaire de ces pieds fouillait actuellement sa tête sous un oreiller alors que les murs vibraient et les papiers en vrac bourdonnaient. Les doigts embrayant les oreillers se sont un peu aiguisés, puis ont tiré l'oreiller plus serré.
Finalement, la musique s'est arrêtée. Un jeune homme aux cheveux bruns et aux yeux endormis a sorti la tête sous l'oreiller et a laissé sortir un soupir de soulagement. Avec un effort monumental, il s'est emparé sur le dos et s'est encombré jusqu'à ce qu'il soit blotti au fond de ses couvertures.
Le jeune homme s'est ouvert l'œil. Un coup d'oeil à l'horloge numérique sur sa table de chevet lui a dit qu'il était trop tôt pour être éveillé. Surtout parce qu'il était debout après minuit à cause du travail.
Brian ferma les yeux de nouveau et sillonna ses sourcils alors qu'il commençait à s'égarer, ou à scruter, peu importe ce que les gens voulaient l'appeler. Il n'a pas fallu longtemps pour qu'une pièce apparaisse dans son esprit. Elle était semblable à la sienne, jusqu'aux murs et aux dimensions de la pièce allaient au moins. Ce qui était très différent, c'était la décoration et le mobilier. D'une part, il y avait de l'équipement d'exercice dans cette pièce et un système de son contre un mur.
Il a gentiment balancé ses pouvoirs sur les fils des haut-parleurs. Ce ne serait pas trop dur de finir le tourment pendant une semaine ou deux. Juste un petit remorqueur et les haut-parleurs faisaient court-circuit. Ce serait si subtil. Au moins, il l'espérait. Il était tout à fait possible qu'il soit toujours blâmé de toute façon en raison de son "histoire" ou d'une telle absurdité.
Si oui, il y aurait probablement un autre tour de ce joyeux jeu d'étiquettes troublant impliquant une super-force et une épée géante. Après quoi, il serait probablement sorti quelques milliers de dollars en remboursements et frais de réparation. Oh, et une sorte de mesure punitive fastidieuse serait adoptée, naturellement. L'officier de discipline était un sadique, bien sûr.
La dernière fois que cela s'était produit, les frais pour détruire les dortoirs avaient été atroces, et pour sauver sa peau, Brian avait aussi dû payer assez pour couvrir l'ancien système de haut-parleurs. L'homme, bien sûr, avait rapidement tourné autour et investi cet argent pour acheter des orateurs plus nouveaux, plus bruyants et beaucoup plus chers. Brian était convaincu que l'homme avait acheté un système si cher pour le contrarier.
En ce qui concerne les blessures... eh bien. Les Asclépiens étaient une bénédiction mitigée.
C'était génial d'avoir des membres régénérés et des blessures guéries lors de la lutte contre les monstres. L'inconvénient est que les gens sont devenus un peu moins prudents avec leurs poings ou d'autres armes. Après tout, un Asclepien suffisamment puissant pouvait réparer n'importe quoi à court de mort.
Être éviscéré n'était pas exactement ce qu'il voulait faire de son lundi matin. Surtout parce que c'était le premier lundi de sa pause d'hiver. Bien sûr, pour tout ce qu'il savait, être évincé aujourd'hui pourrait être inévitable. Le taux de mortalité des personnes travaillant dans son secteur d'activité était assez élevé.
Eh bien, c'était une idée désagréable, et il avait un quart d'après-midi au café. Brian éteignit son chemin, et lui ouvrit les yeux. Il se trouva à regarder le plafond de sa propre chambre. Ses yeux erraient habituellement dans sa chambre pour n'importe quoi.
Un moniteur se tenait sur le bureau à l'extrémité de la pièce. Devant le grand écran de 24" s'est assis un clavier et une souris. La tour de l'ordinateur était assise à côté du moniteur près du mur. Une lampe, une imprimante et un plateau de papiers étaient assis au coin du bureau. À côté du bureau se trouvait une belle étagère en bois sur laquelle il a mis ses manuels, des classeurs et des dossiers, et quelques collations.
De l'autre côté de son lit, qui a été poussé dans le coin de la chambre, était sa commode. Et à côté de son lit assis sa table de nuit avec une autre lampe et l'horloge numérique susmentionnée. À part un tapis entre son lit, un simple matelas reposant sur un cadre en métal à environ deux pieds du sol, et sa commode, sa chambre n'avait pas d'autres parures.
Brian a fermé les yeux. Il a eu quelques heures de plus jusqu'à son quart.
Il allait se retourner et dormir.
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.