Horace Thompson

~ Basics ~

 

Name: Horace Thompson

Virtue: Faith

Vice: Lust

Concept: Psychic

 

 

~ Appearance ~

 

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Height: 6’0

Weight: 180

Eyes: One brown and one milky white

Hair Color: Black

Hair Style: Short, neatly combed

Complexion: a little on the fair side, it’s hard to get a tan in Anchorage

Build: slim and trim

Scars: small one on his left cheeks

Distinguishing Features: his milky right eye

 

 

Flaws:

>Soul-Scarred

Lingering injury to soul due to contact with some outer creature. Attracts Acamoth, malevolent ghosts and spirits of negative emotions.

 

>Touch triggered powers: He doesn’t possess any real control over his powers. When his bare skin touches an object, if there has been a significant event in the item’s past, his powers trigger and he’ll gain a vision of it. To off set this, he tends to keep himself bundled up, wears gloves and turtle necks to limit his skin’s exposure to a potential triggering event.

 

Derangements:

>Narcissism

Mild

 

>Vocalization

Mild

 

~ Possessions ~

 

Weapons: .9mm, pocket knife

Armor: None

Equipment: Cigarettes, lighter, leather gloves, suit.

Havens: Small office in the Diamond Center, paranormal investigations

Vehicles:

 

 

~ Self ~

 

Personality: Bland, monotonous, is lacking all emotion. incapable feeling emotion, any and all emotion, except when he is using his powers to sense the past. The predominant emotion within his vision will color how he reacts and thinks for the next couple of minutes to hours depending on the strength of the vision. So a murder scene may make him more violent or passionate

 

History: Since birth, Horace hasn’t been right. There was something off about him from the moment he was born. When he was born, Horace didn’t cry or wail as one would expect. He was silent, alive but eerily silent. That didn’t change as he got older. He never cried because he needed changing, was hungry or scared. When his parents played games with him, he wouldn’t laugh either. He attended to them mimicked their actions but didn’t laugh.

 

His parents were worried about him but they thought it was a phase. When he was old enough to walk and talk and act like a normal child, emotions started showing up…but at inappropriate times at first. He’d laughed when he got hurt, screamed bloody murder when tickled and smiled during horrors scenes. But slowly things seemed to correct themselves. After a couple more years, he was expressing emotions like everyone else.

 

That’s what he wanted everyone to think and for a time they believed his act. That was until his parents caught him vivisecting the neighbor’s cat. They were horrified and frightened of their son. They took him to a psychiatrist immediately to figure out what was wrong with their boy of 8. After a battery of exams, the doctor declared him to be a sociopath, he could mimic the emotions people expected but he didn’t feel things like happiness, sadness, or even guilt or shame. Truth was, he never was able to feel them and the past few years, he had been experimenting which emotion fit which stimulus. He dubbed them.

 

They put him on med in hopes of jump starting true emotions. His parents also began strict education on right and wrong. They pounded a black and white morality code into him, leaving no room for grey because they knew he’d find loopholes if possible and get around it. The drugs however didn’t seem to be working. He was given strong medicine and in higher doses. They resulted in him getting massive headaches and hving his sense of touch almost seem to blurr into his sense of sight like he was seeing what it meant to touch something.

 

Yet he continued his sociopathic tendancies. They were well hidden for another year or two but soon his his teachers brought up that he hadn’t returned the class hamster yet. The parents alarmed rushed to the bedroom and once again, he had been torturing animals. This time, the doctors proposed an extreme treatment. Electroshock. Nearly overdosing him on the psychotropic drugs, the doctors strapped him down to the bed where it was to take place.

 

Suddenly the boy cried out in sheer agony, his body writhing and convulsing muscles nearly tearing himselves free of their bone anchors. The boy was being electrocuted without the electricity. This went on for minutes until he slumped exhausted. It turned out, the drugs and the intense emotions in the room rewired his brain, giving him postcognitive and pysochmretric abilities.

 

Now 2 decades later, he had a grasp of his abilities and curse. He learned that any contact with his bare skin could trigger his powers. He doesn’t have the ability to turn them off. To help keep himself from being driven insane, he covers himself up from neck to toe, wearing turtle necks and gloves to minimize the risk of an accidental vision. However, he’d become addicted to the visions. Having never felt anything before they came, the visions have been his only sources of feeling any real emotions. They’re like a drug to him. In order to sate his addictions, he opened up a paranormal investigation and consulting business…let suckers and police pay him to get his next fix.

Done