Lewis Wagner - Ruthless

[jim]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=cellpadding,15,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; background-color:#000000; border: 2px dashed #30307E, bTable] LEWIS, WAGNER [style=border: 5px #30307E; width: 300; background-color: #000000] " You realize, of course, that everything I say is horseshit. "

[atrb=style, font-family: bookmanantique; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #000000; border: 1px dashed #30307E; color: #8C8CB8] Name: Lewis Wagner. Nickname: None that he likes. Sex: Male Birthdate: September 19th Age:: 18 Nationality: American. True Name: Ruthless True Name Location: His upper back Type: Fighter Affiliaton : Transcendere Fatum Height: Six feet even. Weight: 165 pounds, mostly muscle. Lean. Hair: Although he originally had black hair, when he was a teenager it became apparent he inherited a rare family trait that caused his hair to go white early. Now he's got white hair with a couple of black streaks. He lets his hair grow wild Eyes: He has Steely grey eyes, almost always narrowed and piercing in gaze as if he's deep in thought. Usually he isn't. Outfit: He prefers to wear a black jacket and white t-shirt - on it the faded black silhouette of a guitar. Sometimes he'll swap it around and wear a white jacket and grey t-shirt. Dark blue bootcut jeans. A well worn pair of dark brown boots. Ears: No. Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.

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[atrb=style, font-family: bookmanantique; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; background: #000000; border: 1px dashed #30307E; color: #8C8CB8] Personality: Positive: Funny, friendly, charismatic, brave, loyal, clever, outgoing, and observant. Negative: Stubborn, aggressive, arrogant, bad-tempered, often lazy, judgmental, and often not especially smart. History: The product of two German immigrants, Lewis had lived the first fifteen years of his life in Seattle until his parents moved to Japan to better conduct business, forcing him to learn Japanese and leave behind all he previously knew. Always charismatic and sociable, he was surrounded by friends until the move and was unnaturally withdrawn and quiet for months, surly towards his parents (who moved so often that he often had to live in with other students) which only lended to a reputation at his new school as an exotic, mysterious foreign student who spoke little. It took a while for him to open up again, and then it took a while for him to fit into the radically different social norms - something he never finished completely. It turns out the the 'mysterious foreign student' was really more of a dumb goofball that never fucking shuts up about movies holy shit. However, three years after moving to Japan he is more sociable, but he still feels like he lacks the close friends he knew at home and yearns for the camaraderie he felt there; he may fit in more and may still sometimes be the life of the party and can still exploit the 'exotic foreigner' thing to get girls, but that's still a long way from where he was at home. He still resents his parents more than ever - absentees half the time who got him lifted into another hemisphere - And life's gotten stranger on top of all that, lately, what with a tattoo popping up on his back... RP Sample: Lewis had always considered himself something a film buff, to say the very least. Sitting on the couch, having a movie marathon, and being a useless sack of immobile human mass all afternoon was a favorite activity of his, although lately he had not been able to do it as often as he would have liked. The lad was well-versed in film enough to be able to identify between the qualities which constituted a 'good film' and those odious characteristics that made up a 'bad film'. This made his movie-going experience only more painful, because the movie he had just paid actual money (which was steadily becoming a rarer and rarer commodity for him) to see was, perhaps, the worst film he had ever seen. He was fortunate that it was a dollar feature (well, the Japanese equivalent) and not a full-price film because otherwise he would likely demand his money back. The pure badness of the film dazed him and as he escaped the Dark Theater of Stupidity and took his first faltering steps in the sunlight of the real world, he behaved almost like one of the countless zombies he saw perforated by the protagonists' machine guns while they stuttered monotone one-liners like robots. After a few moments of standing still, blinking, taking in the sunlight, the fresh air, and comprehending the hell he had just survived, he stood up straight and let his bad mood sink in - not only did he just witness a horrible crime against humanity - he paid to witness it. He had been lied to. The trailers which promised little things like 'acting' and 'coherency' had lied to him. The poster, featuring blurbs by movie critics, who were either unfortunately taken out of context or had questionable taste, lied to him. The joke was on him; another victim of a big elaborate scheme to make people think that films about commandos fighting zombies and robots and other commandos and also a helicopter or two could entertain the basest of senses. Truly, he had not seen such a horrible film since Transformers 2 (he almost shuddered at the memory); at least then a friend paid for it, and he wasn't watching it in a theater with speakers which provided Surround Stupidity and a large screen which bequeathed upon the viewer High Definition Bullshit. And now he was outside, surrounded by posters for better films which he could not see due to the need to conserve cash - of course, that didn't stop ads for films that won acclaim at Cannes from mocking him. Something so simple as a bad film could not normally, of course, gain such control over him and inflict him with such anger; however, the film played a rather small role in his frustration - it was more the catalyst for the release of the aura of anger he now exuded. A week's buildup of stress from learning about the Dark Hour, KAFIR, experiencing the Dark Hour with Arashi and almost losing his life, the incident at the shrine in Sumaru, and that strange guy in the factory had all been weighing heavily on his mind. His bad mood having resolutely gained a grip on his attitude and his outlook for the rest of the day, he took on his standard mad posture (hands in pockets, head slightly tilted down) as he walked forward. All the better things he could have done with that money - like buy milk duds just to throw them out because he hated milk duds - than see that film. Lewis was reminded of a book he had once read where characters repeated 'so it goes' to themselves, through the bad times and good, b-smack. His train of thought was interrupted as he was interrupted physically, walking into a gawking teenage girl standing in the middle of the station. What was she doing? She looked almost like a tourist lost in the sights. That might not have been too far from the truth; she did resemble a foreigner. Did Gekkoukan get many tourists? It didn't seem like it. And was Lewis even allowed to look down on tourists yet? After all, he wasn't a longtime resident; he hadn't even been living in Japan for three weeks yet. Well, she didn't know that. "Jesus. Choose a more inconsiderate place to stand," he said to her in English, scowling. As he finished speaking he noticed that the collision knocked his Gekkoukan badge out from his jacket pocket, and he picked it up and put it back. Close call; he could have had some self-important student council member yelling at him about losing it and school spirit and all that crap.

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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: jim Timezone

[/u]: US Central Time Zone


[/li][li]Faceclaim: [b]FRUITS BASKET[/b] - [i]Hatsuharu Sohma[/i] - LEWIS WAGNER
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[Neroshii]

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Hello, Lewis. Hope you can adjust to the world of Fighters and Sacrifices, and make the friends you're looking for. Just don't freak out and yell stuff about Terminators when you meet TF's "pet" robot.