Post by Nomz on Sept 3, 2024 2:29:53 GMT
"It is what it is, and it's not going to stop me."
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General Information
Full Name
Anwir Weylin Baudin
Codename or Alias
N/A
Anonymity
Really Secret, like, just found out he's a mage and has no idea what he's doing, but trying really hard. Almost no one knows him. Mr. Nobody.
Gender
Male
Race
Homo Magi
Age
23
Place Of Birth
Nashville, Tennessee, USA
Occupation/Status
Online Tutor
Any Part-Time he can get before he moves again
Alignment
Heroish, somewhere between Hero and Neutral
Factions
None (ATM)
Canon Or Original?
Original
Powers and Abilities
Magic
As a newly realized Homo Magi, Anwir's talent and knowledge of magic is miserably insufficient. He knows that his magic comes in the form of soothing shadows and painful bursts of light.
Shadow
Deep, dark, and soothing; Anwir has discovered that that he can train this magic with written runes and imbued with the natural flow of his power. The most successful he's had with it was a shield that protected him and two others from a blast.
Outside of Anwir's knowledge, this element of his magic is geared towards supportive spells and divination. It is tied to his need to be in control of a situation and himself.
Light
Bright, explosive, and jarring; Anwir's found that this magic is almost effortless. While some may see that as a good thing, he is very against this violent and volatile element. Often, when his runes fail for Shadow, they explode in fire and light.
Outside of his knowledge, this element is the manifestation of his destructive nature. The very one he tries to keep buried deep in his heart.
Runes (A Tool)
Anwir's only tool for molding and using his magic is a set of runes from Celtic and Norse mythology. They were the only thing he could pull from his memory in a dire moment and it allowed him to craft his innate magic into a shield of shadow.
They are often written on any surface available and their application is a slow process. Outside of his knowledge is that the runes he uses affect how strong, successful, and efficient his casting is. Eventually, he will graduate to using full glyphs for his magic use.
Weapons/Items:
Wallet, Keys, Phone, Petty Cash, Pocket Sized Notebook, Sharpie, and a Zippo
Appearance
Visual Appearance
Physical Appearance
Anwir stands at a comfortable 5'7 with brown curls that naturally hang about his ears. His eyes are a darker shade of brown with brows that tend to sit heavy over them and they crinkle when he laughs. Years of Tennessee summers have tanned his arms and face a few shades darker than the rest of his body. Anwir has a thin build from a lack of abundance. His shoulders and arms are that of a person who labors for his living. All around, he is a rather unremarkable lad and would be easily lost in a crowd.
Clothing and Armor
Anwir does not possess any type of armor as he does not consider himself much of a fighter. He isn't an X-Men. Instead, there are two styles that he favors for clothing. When he is on his own or at home, he will reach for a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. Maybe a pair of airwalks. When he knows he needs to make an impression or he is at work, Anwir slips into more formal attire. He favors vests and white button-downs paired with slacks and the same pair of dress shoes he's had since he was 19. They're surprisingly well-maintained.
Physical Appearance
Anwir stands at a comfortable 5'7 with brown curls that naturally hang about his ears. His eyes are a darker shade of brown with brows that tend to sit heavy over them and they crinkle when he laughs. Years of Tennessee summers have tanned his arms and face a few shades darker than the rest of his body. Anwir has a thin build from a lack of abundance. His shoulders and arms are that of a person who labors for his living. All around, he is a rather unremarkable lad and would be easily lost in a crowd.
Clothing and Armor
Anwir does not possess any type of armor as he does not consider himself much of a fighter. He isn't an X-Men. Instead, there are two styles that he favors for clothing. When he is on his own or at home, he will reach for a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. Maybe a pair of airwalks. When he knows he needs to make an impression or he is at work, Anwir slips into more formal attire. He favors vests and white button-downs paired with slacks and the same pair of dress shoes he's had since he was 19. They're surprisingly well-maintained.
Personality
Sexual Orientation:
Pansexual
General Personality:
Anwir is about as charming as they come, with all soft smiles and enough confidence to fill out his frame. When one thinks of Southern Hospitality, they'll come to understand that it's just another title for this lad. However, the longer one is exposed to him, the more they see what he's buried underneath. Anwir finds enjoyment in catching people off guard with his comments and seemingly innocent commentary. He can be rather sarcastic when the mood strikes him and he's the first person to find something funny about every situation. Negativity in all its forms rolls off his back like water. If you need a ray of afternoon sun, you'll do well in grabbing Anwir.
Beyond that, he is a very determined individual. While he has no idea where his path is leading him, he has all the will required to jog down the path without glancing back. He is dedicated to making something of himself due to his humble beginnings. He is willing to stomp on his pride if it means finding an answer or a new piece of his future. Nothing satisfies his inquisitive mind for long.
Face/Voice:
Tom Holland
Anything Else
Character's History
Mother:
[REDACTED]
Father:
[UNKNOWN]
History:
Report
Charge was born in [REDACTED] hospital in Nashville, Tennessee, USA on October 31st at 03:13 AM. Paternal parent never recorded. Maternal parent surrendered rights upon birth. State took in new Charge. ID number: 415261313.
Charge was never fostered out or adopted. Stayed in the system until age 18 and completed high school. Grades were passable. Charge displays a lack of interest in fellow charges. Often is alone or doing any work. Presumed to fall back into the system as an adult. Denied State provided funds for college.
Discharged July 13th at age of 18 as a successful graduate.
A Charge No More
Anwir Weylin Baudin's first job was at a dinner a road down and over from the nearest shelter. He learned quickly that the food service industry was going to be his best step forward in the adult life he was ceremoniously thrust into. Instead of giving up or buying into the criminal life, Anwir kept pushing ahead.
His job led to having enough money to afford to rent a couch in an old man's home to rent a room in a tightly packed townhouse. Anwir busted his ass to afford his own apartment and, instead of going through with it, he kept living a lesser lifestyle in favor of struggling for college.
The young man lived an increasingly common version of the blessed "American dream." He sacrificed the chance for a true social life for the opportunity to work towards a better future. Everything was lining up to get him to that point. He just had to keep going. He was wrong.
A Spark and A Shadow
One would expect a mage to find out they are magical through some abnormal means. Either a long-lost relative or an older magician looking for a mentee or even the discovery of an ancient tome. Like all things that involve Anwir, his awakening was bright.
The upside to sharing his birthday with a holiday is that Anwir never has to plan his parties. That year, he accepted an invitation to a Halloween party like he had every year since he started college. The theme for this one was heroes and villains, which was perhaps tempting fate just a bit. Anwir picked a hero that he was fond of and one he was certain no one could confuse him with: Spider-Man.
Surrounded by the loud music of newly crowned adults and more liquor than most of them had seen in their lives, they stood no chance. Anwir missed the first explosion as a wall of the building burst in shards of glass and concrete. Screams of confusion and terror filled the air even as a second wall came crashing in. The lights flickered before going out and the room was flooded in the red glow of emergency lighting.
No one talks about the way your heart plummets into your stomach in moments like that or how most rational thought stops. All Anwir could think to do in the moment was follow the crowd as they headed for the stairs leading to the bottom story. When asked what he remembers, he will later recall the feeling of his desperate breaths heating his mask and the way it clung to his lips. It would be at the bottom of a staircase that he would realize that, maybe, just maybe, he isn't so different from the brutes destroying the lives around him.
It was instinct. It was the body reacting without thought. The stairwell shook with the violent eruption of more fire and power. Pieces of the ceiling above them came crashing down and all Anwir could do was fall to his knees with bleeding hands. It was a capital Y with an extra line in its V. It was a symbol he knew, but he could not remember from where. Later, the new reporters would declare it was a stroke of luck that the slab of concrete shifted so that it settled perfectly against the last few steps, trapping and not crushing the students under it.
But, Anwir would know differently. The shitty lenses of his cheap Spider-Man costume had allowed him to see what those around him had not: a thin, black shield of shadows.
Trial and Error
The following year was met with a month of denial, weeks of fear, and another month of trying to accept and move past it all. By January, Anwir had given up that he imagined it all and began to wonder if he could do it again. He shied away from the idea that he was a meta or the thought that he was a mutant. The area he lived in and the people around- too many heavily implied that either was something to be looked down upon for. It is for this reason that Anwir reached for perhaps the most dubious option. Perhaps he was a mage.
Anwir quickly learned that the internet is full of complete and utter bullshit with the tiniest pieces of facts sprinkled in like a shit sundae. Never one to let a bad lead get him down, the lad brought his research back to the symbol he had drawn that night. This proved more promising than asking Jeeves 'Am I a mage?' The symbol was one of protection from the ancient Norse and Celtic runes. At least, that's what the search engine turned up.
The little mage found himself turning up to his classes less and less until all he was doing was working and researching this new path. He discovered quickly that his magic was all too willing to pool to the surface and spill out into the world around him. Anwir started many fires in many locations and even ruined the couch in his shared home. Clearly, the bits and pieces he was able to pick up were not enough. He needed more knowledge.
It was this hunger to understand and overcome that brought him to a Greyhound station with a one-way ticket to New York City. If there was any city with a vast collection of old books and just as old libraries, it had to be there. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so certain. He just knew he was and, for Anwir, that was always enough.
Role Play Sample:
New York's air is significantly different from that of Nashville. The building reaches further into the sky, towering over his shoulders like an ever-watchful guardians. All around him, people surge down streets that stretch further than his eye can see as if they are the only thing that exist in his world. The constant sound of a million voices and machinery clutters his ears as he stops at the foot of a very old building.
Stone and glass meet his eye wherever he looks and finds himself instinctively pulling his baseball cap from his head. The wind picks at his curls, only furthering to amplify his bedhead. Not that he can do anything about it. Traveling by Greyhound didn't give him many choices.
Anwir takes a steady breath, moves out of the way of a group of prep students, and steps into the library. The doors shut behind him and the difference is immediate. He would never call the building quiet, per se. Seven levels of library with even a sparse collection of New Yorkers can never truly be silent.
He pulls in all of his warm Southern Charm once his eyes land on the older man sitting behind the welcome counter. He knows it is the welcome counter because there is a banner on the front that says "Welcome!!!" Anwir walks up to the counter, eyes going over the welcome brochures before looking at the librarian. A moment of silence.
"Excuse me, sir," Anwir calls softly with a small little smile on his face, apology clear in his tone. Dark eyes glance up at him for a moment through owl-shaped glasses before tapping at a pamphlet to the left.
"Everything you need is here," he responds as if Anwir had asked if the sky was blue. The conversation is closed after that and the lad picks up on it immediately. Careful hands take a sheet and he steps away from the un-welcoming desk. He keeps that polite expression on his face as he looks down at the map in his hand.
Right, you got this Anwir.
