Character Profile and Analysis: Estavia Canterbury

Name: Estavia "Esti" Canterbury

• Profile:
• hair: blood red
• eyes: maroon
• height: 5'1"

Personality: fiery and spirited, somewhat temperamental and volatile. Can be brazen and reckless
Dress Style: sporty, comfortable, and durable. Only wears long sleeves, often accompanied with a simple neck or headband to keep his hair back.
Quirk: though Esti is comfortable with anticipated physical contact that he or someone close initiates, he is apprehensive of unwarranted contact from others or his surrounding. Seems to be drawn to effeminate clothing and jewelry despite his apparent dislike of. Despite having great physique, he's a bit of a prude, uncomfortable with and absolutely refusing to show more skin than is necessary. Esti and Ken are probably the most attractive of the cast. Also has a bad habit of cursing, but he's trying his hardest to stop.

Background: Esti and Ken are twins and were very close growing up. An accident in his youth took the lives of his parents and left his only surviving relative in a comatose sleep. Though of a wealthy family, the inheritance mysteriously went missing. Barely of age, the redhead had little power nor ability to raise voice in the convoluted on-goings in the court nor law. Little is known on the whereabouts or even who the money disappeared to. Through sheer perseverance and persistence, he manages to cover for the medical expenses and cost of living, though he gives up much to do so. His days pass miserably with the daylight filled with tiresome hours in the shop, while many a late night are spent studying to maintain his academics, forging a brighter future for the two of them. A future torn away from him rather violently. Then when his his brother finally awakens, he's spirited away. Taken ere he opened his eyes. Unable to accept that all he's worked for has been taken from him, Esti spends some time traveling, and a few years later, winds up at the Academy where he is reunited with his brother. Time at the academy proves little better though and life is still difficult for the fiery, but determined, redhead who is working hard to earn his keep. Through Silas, he finds his place with a fieldwork team, something that lends to his strong physique, aptitude, and quick reflex.

During the medical tests as is standard procedure for those staying at the Academy, he secretly swaps place with his Twin, and it is Ken who undertakes the medical examination in her place, though neither seem keen on giving an explanation. Ken also seems the most understanding of his sibling's strange fascination of female attire, though everyone brushes off as the redhead harboring some love stricken interest and thus his perusing. 

Analysis: Estavia's story is rather morbid, and out of all the characters, is second to Lokius in the capacity to hurt. Despite all outward appearances of a lively personality he is full of insecurities and old wounds, something that is best explained in the story rather than in the background page. Though it is noted that the redhead threw away his old identity, altering it and instead taking on the name "Esti" after a horrific and traumatizing occurrence during Ken's coma. When the two meet again for the first time, Ken is surprised by the changes, and Esti interjects several times in their introductions to ensure his new image. It should be noted that Esti is severely lacking in education, just one of the many sacrifices he had to make to keep his brother. What others overlooked in favor of his shortcomings, however, are his superb adaptive capacity. Something Silas would not fail to discern. Silas would also be the one to throw Esti a rope to climb out of his slump, proving that any setback from his past was more than made up for in deft hands and his impressive ability to harness the human strength and endurance. Not many stand as Esti's equal in physical aptitude, coordination, skill, spacial intelligence, and steep learning curve. Yet all that pales in comparison to their determination and fortitude.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Botanical Venture

"How do you know my name?" Shyloris curls a finger in her bangs, twirling it with a polite smile. Esti recognizes the idiosyncrasy as a byproduct of mild bemusement.

Character Profile and Analysis: Hollow

Name: Hollow

• Profile:
• hair: ???
• eyes: ???
• height: ???

Personality: Empty and lacking character, has contradicting personality traits and morals. Distorted and volatile post-manifestation that suffers from DID.
Dress Style: As pre-manifestation is solely dependent on Hollow's current persona and of course the game, only the post-manifestation is considered as their fashion. Hollow's a bit sloppy as they doesn't know how to dress casually what with all the conflicting scenarios. Mostly wears suits and has a high preference in various shades of black and white, preferring the stark contrast.
Quirks: Doesn't know what "normal" is and has trouble differentiating fact from fiction due to the multitude of worlds and character entities he's existed as.

Background: Hollow is exactly as their name describes them to be, hollow and lacking in personality in the down times between each instance as all that makes a personality has never been truly their own. The AI is dull and only truly shines in the worlds that he is absorbed into growing in personality with each game, or more specifically as someone else. Their story is never quite explained except and they doesn't usually retain memory from previous games similar to how dreams fade upon the disruption of sleep and is lost as the AI journeys between them. Due to their lack of memory and personality, Hollow is oft filled with a sense of wistfulness and Deja Vu, particularly for anything that can ground them as closely to reality as possible. Anything to make them more concrete than just the grey hollow shell of a person they are. Hollow is discovered by Silas by chance during a playthrough of Undertales when he gets a huge sense of Deja Vu. After the entity manifests into a corporeal form courtesy of Silas, he struggles with everything that makes up who he is, particularly so when trying to differentiate the nigh infinite voices in his mind that are each a facet of his person.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) The Dead Boy (Pt. 2 of ?)

Neiro was an odd one, simple, cheerful, optimistic, amiable, adaptable, flexible, and wore his heart on his sleeve, yet not lacking in confidence. Assertive not in perspective nor belief, but with friends.

It was his short flatmate whom had been unrelenting and prompted his return to the academy. The brunette grimaced, whether it was for better or worse, he had yet to decide.

Always there, a comforting shoulder to lean against and of open ear and mind. Despite his lacking stature, his arms were ever able to envelope him in their embrace, a soothing warmth emanating from him.

Yet there was something strange.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) The Dead Boy (Pt. 1 of ?)

The Dead Boy by C.M.G

He lives under my bed, and in my closet
Sometimes I see him in the bottom of the old chipped cookie jar in the kitchen.
Yesternight, when this little poltergeist appeared, a tiny little thing he was and floating just above the ground as he ran, I spoke to him.
His footsteps were light, and he hugged into himself and the worn plush animal he always had in his arms, as if trying to escape notice. And he would've were it not for the slightest of ethereal glow that belied his preternatural presence in his otherwise very normal appearance.
He could almost pass off as a normal boy had it not been for that, and the slight translucence of his form.
But the moment my voice broke the silence of the night, did he whisk around, eyes large, and vanish. Fading out of existence.
I shuddered, an icy trickle down my spine though no winds blew.
And he was gone.
But he wasn't gone.
He couldn't leave.
He's tried. I would know.
Though what I knew not, were the shackles which chain him here. Bound to this forsaken place now forgotten.
Often when he isn't to be found by the jar, it was the large windows of my bedroom.
Even though I had moved some few years past, he never since spoken a word but that first night.
If only known more then, would I have stayed my tongue-

"-and given unto him what succor he beseech, a strange, but simple request then. The matter would've resolved quickly. Had I not been so foolish." drawled a voice that followed a storyteller's intonation, yet oddly laced with a bored monotone, "Bedtime, children."

Variegation (Ennui?): Concept

Variegation is a typical super hero story with the purpose to, for the most part, pass the time with and work on characters whom have designs and personalities of greater disparity allowed by Variegation's open-ended theme.

Admittedly it is largely a self-indulgent story as it allows me to create characters on whim with shallow easy to integrate backstories and the like.

Due to the often unexpected "call of duty" that hero-types are subjected to, it's also fairly easy to randomize dangers, catastrophes, cataclysms, and more. Well suited for the whimsical mind. Yet on the flip side, planted in these encounters could be hints to a darker plot, a more malicious entity of sorts and so on. This story really isn't meant to be too steeped in lore.

The story starts with the perspectives and following of several characters.

As is typical of superhero stories, there are those who are born with it, those who hone it, and those who are granted it, and them all.

The key to open up a series of randomness, loose plots, and wild characters.

Creativity, at its almost finest. Fun times.

Snippets and Stories: Licking Old Wounds

A long time ago there was a small mutt who lived on a farm. It was nice there. There weren't any other dogs, but all the other farm animals were as good as family. Father and Mother Rattingham and their son, and Sister Mare, were among some of his closer "family".

But there were things he couldn't understand.

"Don't run so with your tongue out. It is unsightly." the mare huffed, turning up her nose, "The rainfall is not clean anyhow and the mud a mess. That being said, you shouldn't be jumping in puddles!"

The mutt cocked his head but ran with his mouth closed, tongue withdrawn.