Reposted with some epic updates, because I finally got over my laziness and decided I care.
Name: Andrew Rogers
Sex: male
Age: 14
Keyblade: Forward Unto Dawn (see avatar; created by deviantART's PhoenixTrooper:
http://phoenixtrooper.deviantart.com/)
Drive Forms: N/A
Appearance: Andrew is a Caucasian male who stands just over five feet tall, weighing in at a startlingly light 113 pounds. He has long, dark brown hair, which is swept across his forehead to the left, leaving no part. His hair falls just above his eyes when worn in such a manner, as it always is, casting a faint shadow over them and occasionally spiking outward slightly around his right eye in the coolest way possible. His eyes are such a dark brown that they are sometimes mistaken for being black, a trait that he has been complimented on many a time by his female friends, notably Alex. His wardrobe usually consists of an Element t-shirt (usually black or gray), blue jeans, and white DC sneakers.
Personality: Formerly a very shy person, Andrew has recently developed an outgoing and very attractive personality, making him impossible not to get along with unless he's the one who has a problem with you in the first place. He loves cracking jokes, which almost always land perfectly, and has been called "Lord of 'That's What She Saids'" by two of his friends. Sarcasm finds itself in constant use by the boy for its humorous effect, although at heart he is a kind, caring person.
Personal History: One could say that Andrew was spoiled in growing up; he was given nearly everything he asked for, and wasn’t forced to participate in activities such as sports when he showed no interest (which he now regrets… stupid gym class!). Video games and cartoons played a major role in the boy’s life until roughly age twelve, when he dropped the cartoons for more “mature” television shows, such as Heroes on NBC, and began playing video games with more complex mechanics and deeper plots. He found that making friends came easily for him- he even made friends with several kids that once bullied him, albeit through... “undesirable” means. After making an enemy out of a once-friend (as if that could describe the horrible event!) in order to become “cooler” (which did, in fact, work), he swore that he would develop an empathy for even the most disgusting and emotionally disturbed people, so as to avoid another “accident.” He does not regret losing this friend, although he does regret the means by which he did so.
Significant Other: Although he currently has no girlfriend, Andrew has fallen completely in love with Alexandra Fiandaca, one of his best friends. She doesn't return his feelings, but that does nothing to change the fact that he would do literally anything for her, including kill or die, in a heartbeat.
Education: Andrew currently attends Reynolds Middle School, alongside Alex and his other friends. He participates in the “ALPS” Enriched Language Arts program, as well as takes the Algebra course a year early, as a part of the Enriched Math program at his school. Despite taking these more advanced classes, Andrew is far from nerdy. He often questions whether or not he belongs in the advanced placement math course.
Occupation: Seeing as he's only fourteen and a job at such a young age is not only optional but would require his input of time and effort, Andrew is currently unemployed.
Morality: Andrew acts only in the best interest of himself and Alex, willing to do anything for her, whether or not he personally believes it morally acceptable or right. When presented with a situation that has little effect on him or the girl, however, he tries to act on a good moral code and benefit as many people as possible.
Interests/Hobbies: Writing fictional stories, jamming on his electric guitar, hanging with friends, and slaughtering Organization XIII for the umpteenth time on
Kingdom Hearts Re: Chain of Memories or
Kingdom Hearts II are three of Andrew's favorite pastimes. Friday nights on which his friends are too busy to hang out are usually spent running through The Castle That Never Was on a KH2 file saved just before the entrance, which is never saved over so that he can replay the World whenever he desires to do so. When it comes to playing guitar, although he's not the worst player in the world, he is considerably less skilled than some of his other friends, most of whom have been playing for much longer than he. "Town Called Hypocrisy" by Lostprophets is one of his favorite songs to play, its upbeat and highly addictive chord progressions never failing to put him in a good mood.
Habits: Although not so much a habit, Andrew is practically addicted to text messaging and blasting his iPod. It's rare to see him "unplugged" outside of the classroom.
Likes: Alex, music, video games, texting, writing
Dislikes: Tyler McKeen, Joseph Keim, rap, nerds, jocks, people who think they know everything/are better than everyone
Fears/Phobias: Andrew only has three true fears in life: losing Alex, the concept of "forever," and the idea of becoming paralyzed. Losing Alex would be, in his mind, the worst thing that could happen to him; ask him why, and he'd respond that she's just too.... perfect. Maybe not by definition- no one is- but perfect for him. And so, naturally, fate being the motherfucker it tends to be, the second worst thing to losing her is due to become a reality in the second week of July; she's moving across the country to Arizona. This ties in to his second large fear, the concept of "forever," in that he fears that while he and she will undoubtedly stay in contact via text and instant messaging for the first few months at least, in all probability that won't last long and he'll never see her again. Not that "forever" didn't scare him prior to his falling for Alex, however; the idea of no end- of infinity-has made his head spin for years.
He also is one of the many people who consider total paralysis a far worse fate than death; the idea of being able to see, to hear, to smell, to breathe, but unable to move or speak, is as scary a thought as any. It would be like being confined to a prison within your own body, lacking all control whatsoever with no hope of ever regaining it. Got an itch? Oh well. Gotta ****? (Or, worse yet, gotta crap?) Too **** bad.
Talents: Andrew has been called a, quote unquote, **** amazing writer. He concurs.
Goals in Life:
- To, someday, hopefully end up with Alex.
- To become either a famous writer or a screenwriter for some hit TV show.
Motivation: Andrew's love for Alex and his own best interests are the driving forces behind practically all of his important decisions.
Three Wishes:
- That he and Alex will, eventually, end up together. Happily.
Time manipulation. Oh, what fun would be had...- That his singing voice wasn't the piece of **** it is now, and was actually good.
Misc.: (to be added at some point before the RP starts, assuming I think of anything)
Intro Post:
(WARNING: THIS IS THE SAME AS THE RP'S INTRO. I ONLY REPOSTED IT HERE BECAUSE IT DOUBLES AS MY INTRO AND MY SHEET LOOKS TOO SHORT WITHOUT IT.)
“**** it…” Andrew moaned in pain, dragging himself out of bed and across the room, clutching head with his left hand. It had been exactly one week since she left, and every day the pain seemed to at least double, usually triple… or worse. The headache, the heartache… Oh, the heartache. It felt as if the boy’s heart itself was dissolving within him, ever so slowly, yet oh so quickly and painfully. Why did she have to go? he thought, slamming him hand down on the “OFF” button of his alarm. Why the **** did she have to go?
Forcing himself into an outfit more suitable for school than simply a pair of black boxer shorts, Andrew tried everything to advert his attention from the thought of Alex. Unfortunately, trying not to think about something- or, as in this case, someone- in particular accomplishes nothing other than thinking even more about them. Like telling someone not to think about a purple elephant. Popping in his earbuds and tiredly scrolling past several popular (and several relatively unknown) artists on his iPod nano, affectionately named “The Old New Nano,” due to its still being a relatively new model of the nano, although not the newest, he finally settled on Lostprophets, a favorite band of his.
Backpack fully packed and slung awkwardly over his right shoulder, the fourteen-year-old trudged down the stairs, every step as if through hell, knowing that today was one of his final days where he could go to school and expect to see Alex. Arizona, he thought, thoroughly confused. Why the hell there? Out of all the places to go, why the **** pick Arizona?
Hell, why go at all?
Setting his backpack down against the white front door, the paint of which was beginning to crack and peel in one or two visible places, Andrew made his way to the kitchen, yawning as he flicked on the light. From the refrigerator, he retrieved a Snapple Apple, although he wasn’t really in the mood for a drink at the moment. He was never in the mood for a drink anymore.
Sipping at the red liquid, he walked through the doorframe, oddly yet conveniently lacking any form of door whatsoever, to the room that, while called the dining room, rarely was in fact used for dining. He pressed the small circular button on the side of the laptop that rested on the wooden table that took up a majority of the room and took a seat in the wooden chair placed before it, watching silently as the black screen flashed to life, displaying for him five options to choose from; five names, one of which was his own, a small icon displayed next to each, particularly the helix symbol that was seen so frequently on
Heroes, an ex-favorite TV show of his, as his own. He clicked the S-like symbol with no hesitation whatsoever, scarcely blinking as the screen transformed into the silhouette of Sora, the main character of the
Kingdom Hearts video game franchise, which served as his wallpaper.
Double-click the Mozilla FireFox icon. Watch the white-colored homepage pop up, a simple design of a red fox and the Earth displayed next to a search bar at its center. Click the deviantART link to “Venthus’s” page on the “Favorites” bar just below the url. Minimize the page. Open AIM. Username: PresetFatality. Password: ********. Check Buddy List. Online: “ColorMeToxic xXx”, "JIFFIEMIX72" and “themightytruk.” Maximize Internet.
The white arrow of a mouse cursor glided smoothly across the gray page, coming to a rest hovering just above a button labeled “Statistics.” Andrew clicked it. Another jerk of his hand and the cursor found itself hovering above another button, made available by clicking “Statistics,” this one labeled “More Stats.” He clicked this as well, and frowned at his lack of having picked up any more favorites or comments on his work overnight.
With a tired yawn and wondering why the hell he got up this early, Andrew closed out the internet and opened Microsoft Word 2007, not exactly eager to finish another chapter of “Venthus: Arcanum” alone, but more or less prepared to do so. He had fans, after all. Best not to keep them waiting longer than necessary.
He found himself almost praying for an excuse to step away from the computer for a few minutes by the time he had written a mere three paragraphs. It wasn’t that he didn’t like writing- quite the opposite- but rather that writing seemed to be all he’d done lately. He hadn’t even spared his Xbox360 or PlayStation 2 so much as a glance in the past three weeks, and hadn’t played them in a good five or six.
Which was when he saw the light.
It was a mere brief flash of light, illuminating the back of the room on the other side of the kitchen, but it was unmistakably a flash of light that should not have been. Not when Andrew was the only one awake, not at 5
AM.
Naturally, this phenomenon piqued Andrew’s curiosity, and he found himself halfway across the kitchen before he even realized he had stood up. Of course, he was much too lazy to turn back now that he was nearly there, and thus lazily popped his head around the corner to peer into the family room and humor himself with the nonexistent light that he had imagined.
Instead, he almost **** himself.
There, sitting atop a red, plastic chair much too small for even a ten-year-old, PS2 controller in hand, sat a man clad in the same black robes identifiable as Organization XIII’s from Andrew’s favorite game. On the television screen, Wisdom Form Sora Dashed clear away from a deadly lance attack by Xaldin, picking up a Jump reaction command, loading his counter to 9.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
Jump.
The screen blurred, Xaldin crying out in agony as he fell to Sora’s Kingdom Key. A pop-up notified the robed man that he had just obtained a Magnet Element. “Cute game ya’ got here, kid,” the man spoke, his a touch of humor in his voice. “Really does the Secret justice, it does.”
Andrew was at a loss for words.
“Tell me,” the man said, wasting no time in cutting to the chase, “what would you say if I told you that the Keyblades and Heartless and Nobodies of Kingdom Hearts are no less real than you or I?”
Andrew was silent.
“Yes,” the man went on, “indeed they are. Which is why I have come to you. Someone, you see, has been unlocking the Worlds, exposing their hearts to whatever might stumble across them. Under normal circumstances, this would pose no problem, except for the fact that the Door to Darkness, too, was unlocked mere hours ago, and a Heartless horde has been continuously pouring out ever since, showing no signs of slowing.”
“Of course they are,” Andrew sighed sarcastically, scared shitless but unwilling to show his fear to… whoever the hell this guy was.
“The Keyblades of the Realms of Light and Darkness have already chosen their masters, and quite capable masters they are, but I fear many Worlds will perish if the two go about their business trying to restore order alone. They are two deeply flawed individuals, and personal reasons as well as their lack of understanding their job will make it a difficult transition into their new lives as guardians of the Worlds.
“I simply need you to go out into the universe yourself and seal the Worlds they do not. Tidy up after the pair, if you will.”
“Right,” Andrew laughed. “And if I don’t?”
“Then your Earth itself will fall to their incapable hearts; the darkness will overwhelm it, and all shall be lost in a matter of days. It’s how things work. You have little choice if you are to save the ones you love.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. What about the Door to Darkness, then? I gotta seal that, too, to keep the Heartless out?”
“No. Fate shall choose the warriors whose unfortunate destiny that is. Fate has no say in the power I give you.”
“I see.”
The robed man nodded.
Without warning, the shadows of the room cast by the television’s glow against the furniture began to dance to life, yellow orbs of eyes manifesting on the materializing faces of feral-looking entities composed of pure blackness. Neoshadows. Andrew’s jaw slipped open, his eyes widening in horrified yet excited disbelief at the sight of the creatures.
He snapped his head in the direction of the robed man, but instead found himself falling backwards, sinking through the floor itself, shadowy tendrils flying up around him in all directions and wrapping themselves around his body, only tightening and pulling him deeper and deeper into a pool of liquid darkness as he struggled.
A sudden jolt in his heart forced an agonic scream from his mouth, and he could have sworn that he saw a green spark dance across his chest for the briefest of moments. “
No!” he roared, panicked and pissed as **** at the robed man who was responsible for this. His eyelids sagged and breathing slowed, senses merging into a blurry mess. With whatever strength he had left in him, he made his presumably last thought audible, albeit only as a faint whisper, as the shadows overtook him: “
Alex…”
