Callum Lusk -- Convalesce

[Callum Lusk]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=cellpadding,15,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; background-color:#000000; border: 2px dashed #30307E, bTable] CALLUM, LUSK [style=border: 5px #30307E; width: 300; background-color: #000000] " So breathe in so deep, breathe me in, I'm yours to keep And hold on to your words 'cause talk is cheap, and remember me tonight when you're asleep "

[atrb=style, font-family: bookmanantique; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #000000; border: 1px dashed #30307E; color: #8C8CB8] Name: Callum Lusk Nickname: Not really. You could make one if you want, he will tell you whether he likes it or not. Sex: Male (ahhurdurrr) Birthdate: September 4th Age:: 20 Nationality: Scotland (FTW!!!) True Name: Convalesce True Name Location: Spiraling around his left leg in swirled letters. Type: Sacrifice Affiliation: Unaffiliated Height: 6 ft. Weight: 120lbs Hair: Callum's hair is a very deep orange, which is a duh factor. He came from Scotland. It is shaggy, going any way it wants to, and expectantly soft. Eyes: His eyes are a stunning light orange, probably mixed with some yellow. Depending on his mood, they seem to darken or lighten even more. Outfit: Callum can be found in a variety of clothes, usually work based. Most of the time, however, you will see him in a plain white (or black) tank top with loose jeans and boots. Sometimes a tool-belt is on him. Sometimes, he wears a coat over his shoulders to hide his armlessness. On both of his stumps, which go down to just above his elbow, are covered in gauze. Other than that, he wears whatever is comfy and easy to get on. Also, and this is IMPORTANT, Callum has a helper dog. She goes wherever he goes and is never on a leash, but so fully trained its ridiculous. Her name is Susu (Soot in Japanese) This is what she looks like Ears: hahahahahahahanohahahahahahaha Sexual Orientation: :3

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[atrb=style, font-family: bookmanantique; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #000000; border: 1px dashed #30307E; color: #8C8CB8] Personality: + Optimistic: Callum is always looking at the bright side of things. Hardly anything is all darkness. After everything he has been through, he has learned to look for a speck of joy, and that has come in handy. + Stubborn: You want this Scottish lad to stop doing something he has set his mind to? Ha! Good luck there. Callum never gives up, no matter the costs. You can count on him to always come through. + Kind: He is nice to people, always gives everyone a chance to get on his good side. + Loyal: Like a dog. + Protective: ↑ + Creative: He pretty much has to come up with outlandish ways of continuing a normal existence without arms. And weird training tricks to teach Susu in order to help him accomplish living without arms. - Depressed (sorta): Somewhere, deep deep within his heart, he has given up on life. Everything that has happened to him has just deteriorated that one spot. And its growing, very slowly. That black hole just does not want to exist anymore. - Possessive: When he gets something, he never wants to share it or let it go. Whether that something is an object or a living being, he does not care. Callum does not like sharing. - Prideful: He hates it when people take pity upon him. And he can not stand it when he is unable to accomplish something due to his lack of arms. - Unorganized: Cal is not a very big person when it comes to organization. He keeps his things in line enough for nothing to get lost (for long...) but messy enough to look like chaos. - Dependent: Because of his physical disability, he is dependent on his dog and others to help him. Which does not tickle his pride at all. - Self Loathing: Callum hates himself. He hates himself for not being able to be braver when his village needed him, he despises himself for putting up with the man who adopted him. He absolutely loathes himself for not being able to save Emi. Plus a lot of things. History: Callum was born into a true Scottish village, deep in the center of the island. The whole community was a nice, peaceful one. Being born there gave one an instinct of calm coupled with a soothing atmosphere. The little boy was raised by all the people, not just his own blood parents. Every lad and lassie in the village loved to play tag and other games with Callum, and he loved it to. During a rare visit to town, all of the adults saved up to buy the children something special. A small little puppy. The rare, baby Hovawart dog seemed to be overly attached to Callum, following the young boy everywhere he went. By the time Callum was five, it seemed that his life was already perfect. He had a peaceful village to live in, tons of friends, and a family in which he loved with all of his heart. Three days after his sixth birthday, Niall Mccarty, mass murderer, and his four psychotic brothers, escaped his prison escort and fled to the tiny village. Callum heard the first scream. It was piercing, cutting through the night air like a red hot knife through butter. Rushing down the small hallway, he met up with his parents, just as their door got kicked down. The small boy and the puppy were thrown under the bed just before Mccarty walked into the room, bright red knife glinting in the slight light. Everything happened in slow motion during that time. There was a scream. Then two. His parents feet were charging at the killer. Punching. Cursing and yelling and shouting. Blood. One less scream. A thump on the floor. The solo screeched louder and more furiously than the first, in order to make up for its absense. A cracking bang. Scarlet scattered everywhere, a drop landing and slattered on Callum's terrified face. One more thump. His father landed right next to the bed, a hole going straight through his forehead, clouded, unmoving eyes staring into Callum's orange ones. The boy could not help himself, sqeaking with horror, he backed up, farther into the bed. Mccarty's feet, already walking out the door, stopped and turned around. Laughing, a blood-streaked hand reached under the bed, searching for whoever was under there. An inch before the murderer's fingertips touched Callum's face, the dog rushed up and clamped its jaw around the man's wrist. The monster screeched and pulled, taking to dog out. Instantly, there was a yelp, then a tearing sound. A little furry body fell onto the ground. Callum could only look on, to scared and shocked to make any noise. So he curled into a ball, and stayed there until all the noise was gone. It took, what seemed forever, for the screams and pleas of his village to end. For the childs' wails and the dogs' yelps to stop. There was a starting of a truck, screeching, and then nothing. Crawling out of the bed, he stepped into the ocean of blood, all from his mother, father, and beloved dog. His face was frozen in a death-like state, eyes blank. Walking barefoot, he went to each house, seeing one horrific nightmare after another. At a particularly gruesome scene, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his guarded features finally crumbling into nothing more than a scared little boy's. Sobbing uncontrollably, he stumbled back home, calling 911. "They're all dead." Were the only words he could choke out before his sobbing turned into hysterics. A few minutes passed before he passed out. And then the police showed up. The next few years of his life, he was in a mental hospital, emotionally dead. However, after an internal battle and help from others, the (now eight year old) boy recovered and was put into a the foster system. His very first family shipped him off to Japan, and then abandoned him at an orphanage. Due to his startling un-japanese appearance, he was unwanted by many. By nine, he had lost hope in getting another family, and yet it did not bother him. Callum turned into his positive self, glad to be alive when he could of died in a gruesome murder just like his whole village. He was lucky to have gotten help. However, one day a very nice-looking man walked into the orphanage. The man saw Callum and instantly wanted to have him for his own. Happily, the orphanage gave the little boy to the kind man. But sadly, you could never judge a book by its cover. The man was extremely abusive, throwing the boy around the house whenever he got mad or upset. The walls would be coated with the little Scottish boy's blood. Whenever the man wanted, he would give the boy to a gang for the night and let them do whatever they wanted, for a price, of course. The very first time he was sold out, his ears were painfully forced from his head. Soon the man took their lead and raped the boy at home frequently. His only break was when the man was at work. Bruised, battered, and earless, everyone would avoid him. Except for one. A little girl, named Emi. She was a savior of sorts, giving him a single speck of light in the universe of black. A little star. She taught Callum Japanese, and he learned quickly, being able to speak the language fluently a half year later. One day, however, the man came home early to find Callum playing with Emi, the two children holding each-others hands and spinning in a circle, giggling happily. Fury raged through the man. How dare the ten year old brat experience JOY?! Unacceptable, and the man new just how to fix that. Later that week, the man gave some lemonade to Emi, who took it thankfully in the heat of summer. The lemonade was drugged, and soon the little girl was taken to the gang that Callum was currently sold to. There Emi had her ears forcefully stolen before his eyes. Although, unlike Callum who had all the reasons to keep quiet, the little girl had none. So the gang, before the boy's eyes, strangled his little star. There was nothing he could do. She kept calling out to him, and when she ran out of air, she mouthed his name with weakening, pleading eyes. Screeching, Callum tried to reach out to her. Tried to at least touch her with his struggling fingers and hold her in his arms, but they kept him back. His name appeared just then, and as it did, he felt his left leg collapse. The gangsters let him fall to the ground. Callum tried to fight them, he was fast and small. Their punches still hit, but the marks they made faded quickly. The pain disappearing as soon as it came. Most of their fists missed. However, Callum was soon on the ground, tripping over something. Emi. As soon as he was on the floor, a gangster was on top of him. Callum needed to be punished. The young boy was taken back to the man's home, back to the person who constantly abused him. There, the man tied up the boy and took him to an abandoned lot, set him down, and started a car. Racing forward, the wheels cruised over Callum's arms, crushing them as if they were toothpicks. Shock. It raced through Callum's mind as he looked upon his mangled arms. Pain. It was excruciating. Fire raced in his veins as the torn limbs started to bleed uncontrollably,l. His bones were sticking out of his skin. Nothing. Callum passed out, the pain to unbearable, so his brain shut down. When he woke up, he was in a hospital. He did not panic, but remained calm. Nose suddenly itching, he reached up to scratch it. Nothing came. Confused, he reached up again, expecting his slender fingers to scratch the itch. It didn't come. Looking down, the boy saw his shoulder, slightly banged up but healing nicely. Below that was his upper arm, bicep was scratched up, yet they seemed to be disappearing before his eyes. Below that was a bandaged stub. No arm. Same with his other one. Both of his forearms were gone. Then he paniced, screeching at the top of his lungs. Nurses rushed in and quieted the boy down, stunned that he woke up already. It was just last afternoon he came in, and his arms had already stopped bleeding. The man was arrested. The doctors saw nothing wrong with his upper arms, but below his elbows were beyond saving. Amputation was the only way. Through several years of physical therapy, Callum grew adapted to having hardly any arms. Prosthesis were given to him, but the teenager absolutely hated them. The fake limbs chaffed his stubs, and were unbearably inhuman in appearance. At least the ones the governemt could give him for free, since he had no money at all. So, instead of to fake arms, he decided to go with the wrapping instead. By the time he was 15, some people came up to him. Septimal Moon, they said. The two told him all about fighters and sacrifices, about how he was born to dominate and rule over his other half. Callum thought that it was bull, until they started to talk about True Names. His being Convalesce. They talked about his unique ability to heal small wounds rapidly, how he never got sick. That was true. So, he agreed to go with them. As a gift of good will, Septimal Moon allowed Callum to choose one thing, his deepest want, to have. The choice came instantly. Even though he had blocked most memories from his Scottish childhood, he could not forget one thing. Soon, SM gave him a Hovawart puppy to be his very own. It was pure black, except for a brown underbelly. Reminded Callum of soot, and so her name became Susu. Cal lived many years peacefully, not very concerned with finding his other half, not really concerned about the dirty looks he always got for not giving a crap about his Fighter. Callum always thought that if it was destiny, they would meet without outside help. One day, after a heavy training session with Susu, Callum went exploring in the underground hallways with the dog. Suddenly, a scream rang through the narrow space, vibrating his skull. Instinctively, the Sacrifice froze. It was not a scared shout. It was a blood curdling screech from pure pain. His feet unfroze, and he found himself dashing down the hallway towards the source. Soon, he found the door. It was cracked open. Using the toe of his shoe, he nudged it further and peeked in. There was a boy, around his age, strapped to a table. His head was full of white hair, and his face was swelled. His own eyes widened, and he ran as fast as his two only limbs could carry him. Susu trotted behind her master, growling furiously, sensing Cal's frightened mood. His life was thrown upside down, yet again. He hated Septimal Moon for torturing the boy. He hated Transcendere Fatum for wanting to remove every single bond forcefully. Callum belonged nowhere. So, the Scottish boy disappeared. He quit SM and avoided TF. Now, he is just wondering what happened to that white haired boy, and if he is alright or not. RP Sample: Whoops. Wasted my word-vomit on everything else in this Bio. Oops

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[atrb=style, font-family: bookmanantique; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #000000; border: 1px dashed #30307E; color: #8C8CB8] Your Name: Gemini Timezone

[/u]: Central!


[/li][li]Faceclaim: [b]HAPPY TREE FRIENDS[/b] - [i]Handy[/i] - CALLUM LUSK
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[Neroshii]

--:|ACCEPTED|:--

Two words: holy crap. This guy has gone through so much more than I imagined, and your descriptions have left me breathless. I actually winced reading his bio, so good job! I hope that he'll be able to help the white-haired young man once he rediscovers him again!