Slowly working on a character lol. Just posting this so i don't end up losing what i have already. Will probably tweak parts of what are already there as I go.KNOWN NAME / REAL NAME:
Jacob Scar / Jacob Alexander Maximilian ScarboroughTYPE:
An assortment of job jobs, some of which he doesn't like to even talk about.AGE
Perceived Age - Twenty Seven
Actual Age - UnknownSEX
Jacob is a pretty imposing guy in his own right, but only because he stands a head above the rest of the crowd at 6'4". Medium length brown hair can on be messy on occasion, but his appearance is generally well kept if he can afford the time of making himself look proper, and green eyes often are alight from amusement. ORIENTATION
- Lacks the finesse required for veils and glamors, as well as shields unless he has a focus in working order.
- Has a bad habit of going into situations unprepared, and acts on instinct rather that thinking things through.
- While he can put together basic potions, it was never an aspect of magic that he particularly cared for, so he couldn't make a potion even if his life depended on it.
Jacob's early life was less than spectacular, since as the youngest of four he was always left in the dust of his more skilled brothers and sisters. He really didn't start making a splash until he started coming into his power, but it usually dropped him off on the wrong side of the line with his father; a Warden of the White Council. Despite the grueling training that his father put him through, Jacob was never able to grasp the finer points of magic or hone his art enough to do more delicate spells. Because of this, his father often seemed disappointed in him and never outwardly displayed his approval despite the fact that Jacob had more power than any of his siblings.
Originally from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Jacob relocated regularly after finishing his basic schooling at the age of eighteen to distance himself from his family and to carve his own path in the world. He didn't really want the life of a Warden like his father, and his siblings that also tried to climb the ranks, which eventually lead him to Seattle after working his way up the West coast two and a half years ago. There was a certain cluster of supernatural happenings there that drew him in like a scrap of metal to a magnet, and he soon set up shop doing whatever job seemed to come his way.
Jacob can swing with the best of them, or so he would like to think. Physically, Jacob is in the best shape of his life and has great endurance, but compared to the rest of the world, he hardly even compares. That's where is magic comes into play. His spells ooze raw power, but he lacks the fineness required for the more subtle aspects of the arts like veils. Kinetomancy is his forte, but he has been finding that he is also pretty handy when it comes to Pyromancy. Another field of magic that Jacob seems fairly capable with is enchantments, as he regularly maintains the warded jacket he wear and the silver bangle he wears on his right wrist that serves as his primary focus for shields.
REPUTATION: If you need something done, and something done loudly, then Jacob is your man. Assuming you can afford him, which is a very possible thing.6. Writing prompts!
---- One Night Stand Aftermath Prompt
Just like every other morning, Jacob was awoken to the sound of his alarm clock blaring and couldn't get the damn thing to stop despite his best efforts. The thought of blasting the offending object had tiptoed into his mind, but it had other information to contend with as he tried to roll and found himself unable to. The numbed arm should have been a dead give away, since it wasn't unusual for him to crawl into bed naked, but the redhead slumbering beside him had almost given him a start. He battled with himself as he tried to figure out who she was, but memories of last night alluded him as everything had been a drunken blur. A sick feeling settled in Jacob's stomach when he wondered if anything else had happened last night, since a drunk wizard was a very dangerous thing, but a quick survey of the room seemed to show that everything was in order. He would have to probe the regulars of Windhaven's Last Call for additional details since that is where he blew his most recent paycheck, assuming he didn't do anything that would have barred him from the tavern.
A popping noise to the left of him gave Jacob another start and more details started to assault him as he began to realize that this wasn't even his apartment. First off, Jacob didn't own anything that could be considered flowery. Secondly, the last time that Jacob had checked, his alarm clock was an ancient Gustav Becker model that he had picked up in an antiques store somewhere in Southern California, not something that was digital or something that got a radio signal. The popping noise gave way to a sickly high pitched whine, causing the girl next to him in bed to jolt upright and stare in dismay. Most have cost a mint,
Jacob thought sourly. Given her reaction, Jacob bet she was a mundane - his father's word for people that had never had contact with the supernatural - though it could have just been naked surprise as well. He confirmed it as well when she gave him a scathing look and went as far as throwing his clothes at him.Well then. At least nothing of mine is broken,
he mused darkly to himself as he buckled his jeans and got out as fast as he could. His Jeep must have still been back at the bar, unless it had been impounded for staying out the whole night, so he hunted for a pay phone - a rarity in this day and age - and called up a cab to pick his sorry ass up, while trying and failing to deal with the monstrous hangover that accompanied a night of heavy drinking.
--- Soulgaze prompt
There was a reason that Jacob never liked making eye contact, but in certain situations it was completely unavoidable. Like when a cop pulls you over and forces you in order to ascertain that you aren't high on any drugs or have been drinking alcohol like it was water. Jacob had been doing neither of those things, and aside from a snarky comment or two about going six miles an hour over the speed limit, he was doing nothing wrong. The cop, as far as it appeared, was only trying to do his job and Jacob - some part deep inside of him, at least - could respect that. Or would have, anyways.
It only took a few beats to happen, since unfortunately this cop wasn't wearing any sunglasses, and Jacob felt himself sink into his seat as the visions pinned him down. While he had some clue as to what his soul looked like, this cop in front of him really struck him hard. He was unsure if whether to judge the man as corrupt or if he had just seen some shit in his time, but his soul looked like the rotting remains of a once well constructed house. The foundation of his soul still looked strong, but with the walls torn out and the support beams of the house showing, it was like you could see its bones. The paint of the remaining walls were white in large splotches, but chipped and peeling yellow elsewhere. A smoker probably, or he lived with someone that did. Tiptoeing through the Soulgaze, Jacob noticed that any and all reflective surface in the house was either smudged by a thick layer of soot, or cracked so that any reflection was fractured into a million smaller ones.
Upon reaching the center of the rotted house, Jacob came across the officer and was surprised at how seemingly normal he was in contrast to the house around him. But then the small wrecked frame of a woman caught his attention, and he instantly felt sick in his stomach. The woman was skeletal in her appearance, and a heavy black miasma shrouded her like a quilt meant to keep her warm, yet she was only shivering. A long winding chain bound the two together, shackled at their ankles, and Jacob wondered if that was a representation of their connection. It was taking ball and chain to a new level, but he had a feeling that the appearance wasn't as harsh as it seemed. It was then that the officer seemed to notice him, or at least the soul's version of the officer, and he was quickly expelled after the reflection screamed, "Get out!"
The following minute after being abruptly forced out of the soulgaze was disorientating and Jacob could see that the officer wasn't faring any better. Or at least, that was the conclusion he drew when the made grew green and the face and almost ran for the nearest bush. Was his soul really that bad? Or was it too much information for the cop. He was let off with a warning to slow down as the cop beat a hasty retreat to his car and Jacob sat for a second longer piecing together what he saw in the man's soul. It took him good second to realize what he saw, and the fleeting respect he had for the man grew tenfold. You had to respect someone who could still look so strong when the person they loved was dying.