Week 285: Carlos Sentegra
Contact: Sparx350Jason@aim,
Sparx350 (Skype),
Jason3589 (Steam).
Age: 15
Physical Stature: Carlos is 5’6 and has a lean body, with slight muscles on his upper arms. He has ashen hair, neck height, which falls in spikes. His cheek has a scar from a childhood injury. His tanned skin is a mark of his deep rooted Mexican heritage. His eyes are a light brown, with eyelashes that spread far. His left ear is nicked from a recent incident with a switch blade. His left ear is pierced, with a cheap diamond stud firmly placed. His legs are lengthy, and lean.
Persona: Carlos is often taken for a vandal, an outright hooligan, a complete kleptomaniac. Though this may be true, Carlos has found many ways to weasel his way out of trouble, which is no stranger to him. He often pickpockets, or vandalizes the streets by spray-painting the community’s property. He mostly brushes things of with jokes, especially puns, which he seems to think are funny. He is often considered the comedy relief of most situations, but he can be dead serious if it comes to it. He tends to be struck silent when he is surprised, which is not often, so when he goes quiet, you know he’s caught. Carlos rarely gets mad or upset, and tries to hide is angry tendencies and replaces them with comedy.
Stats:
Reiatsu: 1000
Combat: 150
Agility: 500
Fortitude: 350
Resonance: 0%
Organization: Orpheus
Biography: When Carlos was only two months old when his parents jumped the border to bring themselves, and more importantly - Carlos a better life. He is an only child, but always secretly wanted a sibling.
Carlos grew up like any other kid. Bored out of his mind in a classroom, but always happy to be there. This - according to his parents, unfortunately - didn't last with age.
As a teen he slowly got more and more sick of it all. He started to vandalize and steal, dyed his hair a few times, though his mother put an end to that quickly. His parents know that he steals, but his father figures its just a simple phase, which it could be.
He often takes his parents for granted, and everything they do for him, like most teens.
Nowadays Carlos can be found wandering around stores or streets simply looking for trouble to get into. The police and him are a bit more than acquainted. His parents don't approve of his criminality but don't know what to do about it.
Sample Chapter: The sky was dark, and the air thick, as Carlos prowled home through the darkness. The stars lighting the sky, he always liked watching the stars. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone he had earlier taken. A small smirk crossed his lips. This had to be worth something.
He heard shouting from behind him, a group of at least three male teens turn the corner, and Carlos simply turned and kept walking, not wanting to pick a fight, especially since he couldn’t win this one. The first teen, the one in the front of the three, called to Carlos.
“Ey! Pipsqueak! Whatchu doin out after bed time, man?”
One of his two lackeys laughed, the one to his right whispered, but clearly loud enough for Carlos to hear “Nice one, Vince.”
The big one, Vince, had scars across his face. Carlos sped up his walking speed. He was practically jogging at this point. Vince and his lackeys sped up too, fast enough that they were gaining on the Mexican-american, only about twenty yards behind him.
He started to run, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Vince’s alcoholic breath stung his senses, like he would someone get drunk simply off the odor this creep was emitting.
“Yo man, I’m talkin to you. What’s that in yo pocket?”
The brown eyed teen froze for a second. “What do you think it is? It’s mine,” Carlos mumbled.
“Get off me.” Carlos added, shaking Vince off him only to be grabbed again, this time a fist coming right at his face, he felt a strong impact, and then fell to the ground. Vince leaned over his body, and Carlos saw him pick the phone off the ground, which must have fallen out of his pocket due to the force of the punch
“Beat him,” Vince said.
The lackey on the right ran forward, and started punching Carlos. The lackey to the left simply walked over, his dark hair curled to the side of his head, to the other lackey, grabbed his arm before he swung at the young teen again, and shook his head.
Carlos stared up at them, sharp pain throughout his jaw, his head pounding from the beating he had just recieved, blood filling his mouth, he turned to spit it out.
As he stood up Vince and the lackeys were running. Carlos stood on his own, and stalked home.
Carlos barely had any marks on him, as he entered the door he was greeted by his mother.
“Carlos, come sit down.” His parents were both Mexican, but hopped the border with him as a baby to come to America for new lives.
“Carlos I wanted to let you know, we’re going on a vacation soon.” She smiled. Carlos stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Where?” he asked, exasperated.
“Japan! We’re going to Tokyo! Isn't it great news?” she asked cheerily.
“When?”
“Tomorrow! A man came to the door and offered to personally chauffeur us there!” his mother responded.
“Aren't you excited!?”
“Sure.” Carlos said standing and sulking off down the hall to his room. He quickly took off his jacket, and looked his arms and legs over for scars. Luckily he was fine, except for a fat lip, and slightly darkened eyes. He climbed into his bed and drifted to sleep.
“Kyuusaida...” A strange voice pierced the dark void of the mind like a knife. “Kyuusaida? What’s with the Japanese name?” suddenly, he was awoken.
“Carlos? It’s time to go.” It was Mister Sentegra, Carlos’s dad. Carlos got up begrudgingly and put on his baseball cap. Looking in the mirror as his dad left his room, Carlos put on his sunglasses to cover up his black eye, and grabbed a stolen packet of cigarettes from his dresser.
His parents loaded him into their SUV and off they went, to the airport. Only one thing echoed in his mind. Kyuusaida. Carlos drifted off to sleep again.
“Kyuusaida... Orpheus...” Carlos snapped awake before he could even sleep. Orpheus? What the hell is that?
They were loaded onto the plane, his mind still buzzing. Orpheus? Kyuusaida?
They arrived in Tokyo roughly eleven hours. Carlos and his family grabbed their bags and left the Japanese airport, and saw streets filled with bright lights, and people yelling.
He and his family are met by the guide, who the troubled teen found to be a strangely familiar man. Dark hair fell to his ears, neatly combed. The guide threw a dark glance at Carlos, sending shivers down his spine.
After following the guide on a tour around the streets, he showed us to our hotel. It was a small building, with little lighting. Carlos and his family followed this strangely familiar man and entered an old shabby room. His shoulders slumped.
“You gotta be kidding me. I’ve lived in better port-a-potties than this crap hole.” Carlos shrugged. His parents turned to him, his mother appalled, his father disapprovingly throwing a glance his way.
The delinquent simply threw his bags onto one of the crappy beds, making it squeak as the mattress seeped to form to the bags.
He walked out, purposely knocking the guide’s shoulder as he left.
He walked down the street, seeing all the Japanese people go about their days.
Easy pickings. He clearly stood out in this city, as he got sideways looks and was mostly avoided. But after a while he slightly blended into the crowd, and saw a man with a phone to his ear, in a business coat.
He walked normally, and “accidentally” nudged the man. In the split second where he had brushed his side to the other man, he had reached his hand into the man’s coat pocket, which had a slight physical bulge only visible if you would know to look for it.
He walked away at a normal pace, as not to draw attention, and opened up the wallet which rested in his hand, filled with yen.
It was enough. He went to the nearest store, and bought a thick jacket. He was freezing, the autumn winds had only recently started up, but he was gonna use that shit phone to- wait. Vince. The lackey. The left lackey, the guide...
They were the same person. The lackey that had stood to help Carlos was now a tour guide in Japan. Talk about a change of scenery. The brown haired teen rushed to the crap motel, realizing that the rest of the gang could well be there robbing his parents.
He sprinted the other way, as people turned to stare at him, he noticed somebody. A white skinned man with dark hair.
The left lackey. He stopped in front of the tall man, and held in a shout.
“Where are they?!” Carlos was muffling his screams with raspy quick breaths. The man only stood there, staring at him. Carlos only got more infuriated. “Tell me where they are you bastard!” The man finally spoke.
“My name isn’t Bastard, you little twerp. If it wasn’t for me, you would be dead right now, and your parents mourning over your grave. I am Kyuusaida Itchii. I’ve told them to stay there, and that I was coming to get you.”
He said sternly. “What do you mean I’d be-“ the young boy was cut off by a shriek coming from a few blocks down. His mother. Kyuusaida muffled a curse. Carlos turned with pleading eyes to the towering man above him, but Itchii was gone, running through the alley to their right, to the source of the scream.
Carlos ran as fast as he thought he could, and more than caught up, he surpassed Itchii completely, turning a few corners only to see...
His mother and father were dead the second Misses Sentegra had screamed. Her body was devoured first, as the giant black mass’s white face crunched on her phones, swallowing her blood, it heard the smelt the approaching Advents.
One on one he could handle, but the idea of two scared him off, leaving the male’s body there, to come back later for the tasty corpse.
Carlos leaned over his father’s bloody body, a tear ripped across his throat, his neck snapped to the side like a doll. Carlos felt hot tears fall down his cheeks, his heart racing, and the world slowed for those few precious moments.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Kyuusaida stood just above him, darkness in his hardened eyes. Carlos stood, facing Kyuusaida Itchii, screaming at him.
“YOU WERE S’POSED TO KEEP THEM SAFE. HOW DID THIS-“ his voice cut off, as he passes out, into his mother’s pool of blood.
He awoke in what looked to be an emergency room, his head thumped as he struggled to sit up, his bones stiff from exhaustion. “Lie down.” Kyuusaida said from across the room. “Rest. You pulled a very stupid stunt there, you could have died.” Carlos shrugged, and even that hurt him. “
What happened, man?â Carlos was hardly audible.
Kyuusaida Itchii lowered his head, not answering the boy's plea.
“Your parents-“ he started, but Carlos cut him off.
“What... What am I? Why me?” he said, as he held tears down. Kyuusaida only looked at him.
“You're special, kid."
Contact: Sparx350Jason@aim,
Sparx350 (Skype),
Jason3589 (Steam).
Age: 15
Physical Stature: Carlos is 5’6 and has a lean body, with slight muscles on his upper arms. He has ashen hair, neck height, which falls in spikes. His cheek has a scar from a childhood injury. His tanned skin is a mark of his deep rooted Mexican heritage. His eyes are a light brown, with eyelashes that spread far. His left ear is nicked from a recent incident with a switch blade. His left ear is pierced, with a cheap diamond stud firmly placed. His legs are lengthy, and lean.
Persona: Carlos is often taken for a vandal, an outright hooligan, a complete kleptomaniac. Though this may be true, Carlos has found many ways to weasel his way out of trouble, which is no stranger to him. He often pickpockets, or vandalizes the streets by spray-painting the community’s property. He mostly brushes things of with jokes, especially puns, which he seems to think are funny. He is often considered the comedy relief of most situations, but he can be dead serious if it comes to it. He tends to be struck silent when he is surprised, which is not often, so when he goes quiet, you know he’s caught. Carlos rarely gets mad or upset, and tries to hide is angry tendencies and replaces them with comedy.
Stats:
Reiatsu: 1000
Combat: 150
Agility: 500
Fortitude: 350
Resonance: 0%
Organization: Orpheus
Biography: When Carlos was only two months old when his parents jumped the border to bring themselves, and more importantly - Carlos a better life. He is an only child, but always secretly wanted a sibling.
Carlos grew up like any other kid. Bored out of his mind in a classroom, but always happy to be there. This - according to his parents, unfortunately - didn't last with age.
As a teen he slowly got more and more sick of it all. He started to vandalize and steal, dyed his hair a few times, though his mother put an end to that quickly. His parents know that he steals, but his father figures its just a simple phase, which it could be.
He often takes his parents for granted, and everything they do for him, like most teens.
Nowadays Carlos can be found wandering around stores or streets simply looking for trouble to get into. The police and him are a bit more than acquainted. His parents don't approve of his criminality but don't know what to do about it.
Sample Chapter: The sky was dark, and the air thick, as Carlos prowled home through the darkness. The stars lighting the sky, he always liked watching the stars. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone he had earlier taken. A small smirk crossed his lips. This had to be worth something.
He heard shouting from behind him, a group of at least three male teens turn the corner, and Carlos simply turned and kept walking, not wanting to pick a fight, especially since he couldn’t win this one. The first teen, the one in the front of the three, called to Carlos.
“Ey! Pipsqueak! Whatchu doin out after bed time, man?”
One of his two lackeys laughed, the one to his right whispered, but clearly loud enough for Carlos to hear “Nice one, Vince.”
The big one, Vince, had scars across his face. Carlos sped up his walking speed. He was practically jogging at this point. Vince and his lackeys sped up too, fast enough that they were gaining on the Mexican-american, only about twenty yards behind him.
He started to run, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Vince’s alcoholic breath stung his senses, like he would someone get drunk simply off the odor this creep was emitting.
“Yo man, I’m talkin to you. What’s that in yo pocket?”
The brown eyed teen froze for a second. “What do you think it is? It’s mine,” Carlos mumbled.
“Get off me.” Carlos added, shaking Vince off him only to be grabbed again, this time a fist coming right at his face, he felt a strong impact, and then fell to the ground. Vince leaned over his body, and Carlos saw him pick the phone off the ground, which must have fallen out of his pocket due to the force of the punch
“Beat him,” Vince said.
The lackey on the right ran forward, and started punching Carlos. The lackey to the left simply walked over, his dark hair curled to the side of his head, to the other lackey, grabbed his arm before he swung at the young teen again, and shook his head.
Carlos stared up at them, sharp pain throughout his jaw, his head pounding from the beating he had just recieved, blood filling his mouth, he turned to spit it out.
As he stood up Vince and the lackeys were running. Carlos stood on his own, and stalked home.
Carlos barely had any marks on him, as he entered the door he was greeted by his mother.
“Carlos, come sit down.” His parents were both Mexican, but hopped the border with him as a baby to come to America for new lives.
“Carlos I wanted to let you know, we’re going on a vacation soon.” She smiled. Carlos stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Where?” he asked, exasperated.
“Japan! We’re going to Tokyo! Isn't it great news?” she asked cheerily.
“When?”
“Tomorrow! A man came to the door and offered to personally chauffeur us there!” his mother responded.
“Aren't you excited!?”
“Sure.” Carlos said standing and sulking off down the hall to his room. He quickly took off his jacket, and looked his arms and legs over for scars. Luckily he was fine, except for a fat lip, and slightly darkened eyes. He climbed into his bed and drifted to sleep.
“Kyuusaida...” A strange voice pierced the dark void of the mind like a knife. “Kyuusaida? What’s with the Japanese name?” suddenly, he was awoken.
“Carlos? It’s time to go.” It was Mister Sentegra, Carlos’s dad. Carlos got up begrudgingly and put on his baseball cap. Looking in the mirror as his dad left his room, Carlos put on his sunglasses to cover up his black eye, and grabbed a stolen packet of cigarettes from his dresser.
His parents loaded him into their SUV and off they went, to the airport. Only one thing echoed in his mind. Kyuusaida. Carlos drifted off to sleep again.
“Kyuusaida... Orpheus...” Carlos snapped awake before he could even sleep. Orpheus? What the hell is that?
They were loaded onto the plane, his mind still buzzing. Orpheus? Kyuusaida?
They arrived in Tokyo roughly eleven hours. Carlos and his family grabbed their bags and left the Japanese airport, and saw streets filled with bright lights, and people yelling.
He and his family are met by the guide, who the troubled teen found to be a strangely familiar man. Dark hair fell to his ears, neatly combed. The guide threw a dark glance at Carlos, sending shivers down his spine.
After following the guide on a tour around the streets, he showed us to our hotel. It was a small building, with little lighting. Carlos and his family followed this strangely familiar man and entered an old shabby room. His shoulders slumped.
“You gotta be kidding me. I’ve lived in better port-a-potties than this crap hole.” Carlos shrugged. His parents turned to him, his mother appalled, his father disapprovingly throwing a glance his way.
The delinquent simply threw his bags onto one of the crappy beds, making it squeak as the mattress seeped to form to the bags.
He walked out, purposely knocking the guide’s shoulder as he left.
He walked down the street, seeing all the Japanese people go about their days.
Easy pickings. He clearly stood out in this city, as he got sideways looks and was mostly avoided. But after a while he slightly blended into the crowd, and saw a man with a phone to his ear, in a business coat.
He walked normally, and “accidentally” nudged the man. In the split second where he had brushed his side to the other man, he had reached his hand into the man’s coat pocket, which had a slight physical bulge only visible if you would know to look for it.
He walked away at a normal pace, as not to draw attention, and opened up the wallet which rested in his hand, filled with yen.
It was enough. He went to the nearest store, and bought a thick jacket. He was freezing, the autumn winds had only recently started up, but he was gonna use that shit phone to- wait. Vince. The lackey. The left lackey, the guide...
They were the same person. The lackey that had stood to help Carlos was now a tour guide in Japan. Talk about a change of scenery. The brown haired teen rushed to the crap motel, realizing that the rest of the gang could well be there robbing his parents.
He sprinted the other way, as people turned to stare at him, he noticed somebody. A white skinned man with dark hair.
The left lackey. He stopped in front of the tall man, and held in a shout.
“Where are they?!” Carlos was muffling his screams with raspy quick breaths. The man only stood there, staring at him. Carlos only got more infuriated. “Tell me where they are you bastard!” The man finally spoke.
“My name isn’t Bastard, you little twerp. If it wasn’t for me, you would be dead right now, and your parents mourning over your grave. I am Kyuusaida Itchii. I’ve told them to stay there, and that I was coming to get you.”
He said sternly. “What do you mean I’d be-“ the young boy was cut off by a shriek coming from a few blocks down. His mother. Kyuusaida muffled a curse. Carlos turned with pleading eyes to the towering man above him, but Itchii was gone, running through the alley to their right, to the source of the scream.
Carlos ran as fast as he thought he could, and more than caught up, he surpassed Itchii completely, turning a few corners only to see...
His mother and father were dead the second Misses Sentegra had screamed. Her body was devoured first, as the giant black mass’s white face crunched on her phones, swallowing her blood, it heard the smelt the approaching Advents.
One on one he could handle, but the idea of two scared him off, leaving the male’s body there, to come back later for the tasty corpse.
Carlos leaned over his father’s bloody body, a tear ripped across his throat, his neck snapped to the side like a doll. Carlos felt hot tears fall down his cheeks, his heart racing, and the world slowed for those few precious moments.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Kyuusaida stood just above him, darkness in his hardened eyes. Carlos stood, facing Kyuusaida Itchii, screaming at him.
“YOU WERE S’POSED TO KEEP THEM SAFE. HOW DID THIS-“ his voice cut off, as he passes out, into his mother’s pool of blood.
He awoke in what looked to be an emergency room, his head thumped as he struggled to sit up, his bones stiff from exhaustion. “Lie down.” Kyuusaida said from across the room. “Rest. You pulled a very stupid stunt there, you could have died.” Carlos shrugged, and even that hurt him. “
What happened, man?â Carlos was hardly audible.
Kyuusaida Itchii lowered his head, not answering the boy's plea.
“Your parents-“ he started, but Carlos cut him off.
“What... What am I? Why me?” he said, as he held tears down. Kyuusaida only looked at him.
“You're special, kid."