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Description

“Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.”
― C. Kennedy, Ómorphi

Playlist

● GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Avel Alexeev
Nickname(s): Chinook
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Shard Type: Awakened
Element: Air
Rank: Student

● APPEARANCE

Height: 6'8

Weight: 213

● PERSONALITY

Positive

Polite, Thoughtful, Empathetic

Chi may look imposing but he really is a soft little lamb. He is polite and soft-spoken to most, and is a very attentive listener. He watches the goings on around him constantly as a nervous tick, and thus sees much. He feels other peoples hurt and it usually the first on scene to try and lend them a hand. If you can get him to open up he is a wonderfully loving and affectionate fella. He isn't by any means shy just... distant.

Neutral

Soft spoken, sensitive
Chi is usually in a state of disassociation or dreaminess. You sorta have to poke him a couple times so he can come to and add to the conversation; he has a gentle and quiet voice and is easily wounded by the words of those around him. Consider it a fault of having ones heart on their sleeve.

Negative

Aloof, Adaptable, Intimidating
Little boys who grow up under bloody fists aren't without their issues. In order to stave off pain Chi has grown large and imposing. His facial and body scars only adding to his cold expressionless face and ominous attitude. When the situation demands it he easily adapts, ready to conquer and overcome if that's what needs to be done. He has few friends and tends towards being a bit aloof and nondescript in his talking.

Likes;

Hot chocolate
Cool, foggy weather
Sitting around a fire
Cooking
Patching people up

Dislikes;

Being alone
Humid weather
Everyone's attention

Fears: The future, the past, the passage of time in general really

Aspirations: To make some friends for the first time, to be a doctor or medical help for the school

● ROMANTIC

Status: Single

Sexuality: ???

●HISTORY

Tw: Violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, murder

Avel was born to a Native American mother, and a Russian father in a small community in the Northwest Territories. His father- Maxime- primarily working in construction and his mother a teacher at the next town over. They lived a happy life. Full of awkward but sweet exchanges. Avel's mother was a charming and sweet woman- of soft spoken voice and a gentle heart. A callous contrast to her rough husband. But she had managed to smooth out his edges.

At the age of four, Avel's mother was killed in a rather unfortunate accident on the slippery northern roads; leaving him alone with his father. Life was... Not easy. Now tasked with raising a son he wasn't sure he wanted; Avel's father cast him more or less aside; he was after all nothing more than a burden on their resources. With money being so tight Maxime was frequently short on cash, which had them both stressed. In order to lessen the burden Avel took on a traditionally feminine roll; cooking the meals int he house and cleaning despite his very young age. By six he could do dishes and laundry by himself and by nine he was getting very much into cooking.

It wasn't enough however... Or perhaps it was too much. Too much of a reminder of who they had lost. When the goings got tough; Maxime got tougher. Often raising his fists to his rather willowy son. As one might expect this had a terrible impact on Avel, and he grew withdrawn and self-conscious. He only wanted to make his dad proud. To prove he could be what they needed. That he could carry the burdens. So he tried ever harder. Getting up earlier, cooking meals faster. Studying harder! He thought if he could make himself better then the tenseness, the passive aggressive undertones... the harsh words would all go away.

They never did. Not really. By high-school Avel was the runt of the pack. His school was small; rural but he was smaller. Soft-spoken, shy, damaged, he rarely left his comfort zone. Picking up a part time job he did his best to pitch into the house-hold. Money which was swiftly spent by Maxime on booze and car mods; which only aided to their growing financial deficit and the emotional strains on their relationship. Maxime knew he had his son under his thumb. But he also knew it wouldn't last; especially now that Avel had reached high-school. Even then he could sense something within Avel was changing. Growing. His only thought was fear- if he could make Avel truly fear him he would never grow out of the shadow. Then he could be Maxime's to keep. A workhorse until the end of his days.

With such a revelation the violence became even more brutal. Broken teeth and split lips a thing of the past. Now there was the knife. A battered bloody switchblade. Avel grew to fear nothing more than the sound of it's snick. With subtle manipulation Maxime slowly convinced his son to cease his studies; instead moving on to hard labour. Money was what they needed after all, right? He worked Avel until he was exhausted; too much so to put up much of a fight. And he didn't.

Regardless of Maxime's best efforts; nothing can stop time.

Despite his body never getting a moments rest, it grew. And boy did he grow. In the span of about a year; Avel shot above his father, growing to an imposing six feet, and eight inches. With his body grew his soul; his shard. Having endured so much, having adapted to the trauma, and growing... Avel transformed. His near black eyes crystallizing to a cold and foreboding blue. Using more and more violent tasks to keep the boy just that- a scared boy- Maxime unknowingly only fed the fire; whilst missing the spark. Visual changes went under the radar.

Avel didn;t fail to realize his new found abilities... He relinquished his new powers- despite his fathers attempts to snuff them out. Innocently enough. A little burst of wind to keep the house cool. To blow out the scent of burning.

Nothing he would notice.

Until he did. Caught red handed using his ability to cool down the stew; it was an innocent action but it was also- in Maxime's eyes- a weapon. A leg up that he never had before. Perhaps it was the booze in his belly but this lit a fire within Maxime and he proceeded to lay out Avel in his most fearsome beating. Broken ribs; blackened eyes, gruesome scars etched into his face- a mark to keep the girls away. "So nobody ever get's sucked into loving someone like you." It was the last straw, and with the most gentle of motions, Avel used his power to slowly begin sucking the air from his father's lungs, from the room itself. Until the blade fell back just enough... Just enough for Avel to tear it from his father's hands, and plunge it into his guts.

When it was all said and done Avel did what he did best. Cleaned up.

Clearing out his belongings he took his work truck and drove. Drove off to the nearest big city and fumbled around until he could find a number. The number.
The Academy came to retrieve the badly beaten boy; giving him a place to stay and a position in the school, his deed assumed but never spoken of.

Bloodied hands never quite washing clean.

In his wake he changed his name; Chinook. A warm wind at the end of a cold winter.

●EXPERIENCE
[Deviation link | Points acquired]
Total:

●ABILITIES

Ability One | Name: Pillowy Breeze- Chinook manipulates the air beneath himself or others to gently levitate them, or stop their fall. Can be used to temporarily run across air. Can be used to slow the impact of a blow to be a bit softer.
Weaknesses: Not ideal for combat. Best used to aid civilians or allies who have been flung or shoved; or are about to fall or misstep. Lasts only around 4-10 seconds, can be dissipated by a stronger blow. (heheh get it? Like wind? I'm funny)

Ability Two | Name: Breath Taking- Chinook gradually removes the O2 in a persons lungs
Weakness: At its current stage it takes a good 4-5 minutes to fully begin suffocating the victim. Does nothing in regards to holding them in place so they can simply run away if they aren't being grappled.

Weapon: A crude switchblade. The joints are a little rusty. People get a bad vibe from it.

Description

“Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.”
― C. Kennedy, Ómorphi

Playlist

● GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Avel Alexeev
Nickname(s): Chinook
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Shard Type: Awakened
Element: Air
Rank: Student

● APPEARANCE

Height: 6'8

Weight: 213

● PERSONALITY

Positive

Polite, Thoughtful, Empathetic

Chi may look imposing but he really is a soft little lamb. He is polite and soft-spoken to most, and is a very attentive listener. He watches the goings on around him constantly as a nervous tick, and thus sees much. He feels other peoples hurt and it usually the first on scene to try and lend them a hand. If you can get him to open up he is a wonderfully loving and affectionate fella. He isn't by any means shy just... distant.

Neutral

Soft spoken, sensitive
Chi is usually in a state of disassociation or dreaminess. You sorta have to poke him a couple times so he can come to and add to the conversation; he has a gentle and quiet voice and is easily wounded by the words of those around him. Consider it a fault of having ones heart on their sleeve.

Negative

Aloof, Adaptable, Intimidating
Little boys who grow up under bloody fists aren't without their issues. In order to stave off pain Chi has grown large and imposing. His facial and body scars only adding to his cold expressionless face and ominous attitude. When the situation demands it he easily adapts, ready to conquer and overcome if that's what needs to be done. He has few friends and tends towards being a bit aloof and nondescript in his talking.

Likes;

Hot chocolate
Cool, foggy weather
Sitting around a fire
Cooking
Patching people up

Dislikes;

Being alone
Humid weather
Everyone's attention

Fears: The future, the past, the passage of time in general really

Aspirations: To make some friends for the first time, to be a doctor or medical help for the school

● ROMANTIC

Status: Single

Sexuality: ???

●HISTORY

Tw: Violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, murder

Avel was born to a Native American mother, and a Russian father in a small community in the Northwest Territories. His father- Maxime- primarily working in construction and his mother a teacher at the next town over. They lived a happy life. Full of awkward but sweet exchanges. Avel's mother was a charming and sweet woman- of soft spoken voice and a gentle heart. A callous contrast to her rough husband. But she had managed to smooth out his edges.

At the age of four, Avel's mother was killed in a rather unfortunate accident on the slippery northern roads; leaving him alone with his father. Life was... Not easy. Now tasked with raising a son he wasn't sure he wanted; Avel's father cast him more or less aside; he was after all nothing more than a burden on their resources. With money being so tight Maxime was frequently short on cash, which had them both stressed. In order to lessen the burden Avel took on a traditionally feminine roll; cooking the meals int he house and cleaning despite his very young age. By six he could do dishes and laundry by himself and by nine he was getting very much into cooking.

It wasn't enough however... Or perhaps it was too much. Too much of a reminder of who they had lost. When the goings got tough; Maxime got tougher. Often raising his fists to his rather willowy son. As one might expect this had a terrible impact on Avel, and he grew withdrawn and self-conscious. He only wanted to make his dad proud. To prove he could be what they needed. That he could carry the burdens. So he tried ever harder. Getting up earlier, cooking meals faster. Studying harder! He thought if he could make himself better then the tenseness, the passive aggressive undertones... the harsh words would all go away.

They never did. Not really. By high-school Avel was the runt of the pack. His school was small; rural but he was smaller. Soft-spoken, shy, damaged, he rarely left his comfort zone. Picking up a part time job he did his best to pitch into the house-hold. Money which was swiftly spent by Maxime on booze and car mods; which only aided to their growing financial deficit and the emotional strains on their relationship. Maxime knew he had his son under his thumb. But he also knew it wouldn't last; especially now that Avel had reached high-school. Even then he could sense something within Avel was changing. Growing. His only thought was fear- if he could make Avel truly fear him he would never grow out of the shadow. Then he could be Maxime's to keep. A workhorse until the end of his days.

With such a revelation the violence became even more brutal. Broken teeth and split lips a thing of the past. Now there was the knife. A battered bloody switchblade. Avel grew to fear nothing more than the sound of it's snick. With subtle manipulation Maxime slowly convinced his son to cease his studies; instead moving on to hard labour. Money was what they needed after all, right? He worked Avel until he was exhausted; too much so to put up much of a fight. And he didn't.

Regardless of Maxime's best efforts; nothing can stop time.

Despite his body never getting a moments rest, it grew. And boy did he grow. In the span of about a year; Avel shot above his father, growing to an imposing six feet, and eight inches. With his body grew his soul; his shard. Having endured so much, having adapted to the trauma, and growing... Avel transformed. His near black eyes crystallizing to a cold and foreboding blue. Using more and more violent tasks to keep the boy just that- a scared boy- Maxime unknowingly only fed the fire; whilst missing the spark. Visual changes went under the radar.

Avel didn;t fail to realize his new found abilities... He relinquished his new powers- despite his fathers attempts to snuff them out. Innocently enough. A little burst of wind to keep the house cool. To blow out the scent of burning.

Nothing he would notice.

Until he did. Caught red handed using his ability to cool down the stew; it was an innocent action but it was also- in Maxime's eyes- a weapon. A leg up that he never had before. Perhaps it was the booze in his belly but this lit a fire within Maxime and he proceeded to lay out Avel in his most fearsome beating. Broken ribs; blackened eyes, gruesome scars etched into his face- a mark to keep the girls away. "So nobody ever get's sucked into loving someone like you." It was the last straw, and with the most gentle of motions, Avel used his power to slowly begin sucking the air from his father's lungs, from the room itself. Until the blade fell back just enough... Just enough for Avel to tear it from his father's hands, and plunge it into his guts.

When it was all said and done Avel did what he did best. Cleaned up.

Clearing out his belongings he took his work truck and drove. Drove off to the nearest big city and fumbled around until he could find a number. The number.
The Academy came to retrieve the badly beaten boy; giving him a place to stay and a position in the school, his deed assumed but never spoken of.

Bloodied hands never quite washing clean.

In his wake he changed his name; Chinook. A warm wind at the end of a cold winter.

●EXPERIENCE
[Deviation link | Points acquired]
Total:

●ABILITIES

Ability One | Name: Pillowy Breeze- Chinook manipulates the air beneath himself or others to gently levitate them, or stop their fall. Can be used to temporarily run across air. Can be used to slow the impact of a blow to be a bit softer.
Weaknesses: Not ideal for combat. Best used to aid civilians or allies who have been flung or shoved; or are about to fall or misstep. Lasts only around 4-10 seconds, can be dissipated by a stronger blow. (heheh get it? Like wind? I'm funny)

Ability Two | Name: Breath Taking- Chinook gradually removes the O2 in a persons lungs
Weakness: At its current stage it takes a good 4-5 minutes to fully begin suffocating the victim. Does nothing in regards to holding them in place so they can simply run away if they aren't being grappled.

Weapon: A crude switchblade. The joints are a little rusty. People get a bad vibe from it.