|Full Name:||Xander Young|
|Source:||Mage: The Ascension|
|Theme Song:||How Far You've Come|
Early Life and Awakening
I was once destined for something. Maybe, maybe not something great, but I had a destiny. I had somewhere to go. People looked at me, and they were proud, and they looked forward to the day I would be up with them.
Destiny, mm. The ways of fate, of destiny, are often...clouded, mysterious. I'm still not sure that this is the path I was meant for or a path that was set in front of me because I did something wrong. My family, my parents, my brothers, we were always close. We learned, we fought, we loved. We were never wanting but nor were we spoiled; I was the middle child, and the Gifted one.
I do not say this with intent to be condescending, but am telling the truth. My parents thought I was strange from the time I was small. I don't know what it is that I felt, but I felt something there in those days. It's hard to define now that I know the truth, and it's hard to look back on blindness and say that I knew, but know I did. I could feel the world around me as others never could. I took fascinate in nature, in people, in animals, in life.
My eyes eventually opened when I was young: only twelve. I remember it with a vividness that will never go away, and yet feels so simple when I look back on it now. I had always believed that I could do, and it was merely a matter of separating the reality of Earth with the will. I wanted to hear, I wanted to feel. We had a pet dog, and I in my childlike fancy took an...interest, in trying to read his thoughts, read what he was thinking. I took his face in my hands and looked deeply into his eyes, as I had done many times before. This time, however, the path opened. I felt his thoughts, his words, his feelings, flowing into my own. Before I had fancied I could hear it; this compared to that was the difference between deafness and hearing the orchestra.
I merely smiled, and said, "Okay."
Learning and the First Seeking
My mentor came to me, and he had been watching me for some time. I had been singled out in my classes at school by those who watch for such things, and he came to my parents with offers of scholarships for the gifted, for a boarding school. No, no, he must start right away, we'll pay for expenses. Yes, yes, we will take good care of your son.
The Chantry I was involved in was a small one in the city of Denver. The Celestial Chorus picked me up nearly immediately, and I fell in with their ways without a second thought. My learning went well, and my teachers were strict and expected much. Lessons varied from normal school lessons to the occult, and I took to it like a sponge. I was not at the 'top of my class', so to speak, but there were worse students, and better. I fit in well. I had friends, and I met those outside the Tradition.
My first Seeking came at the age of sixteen. My Avatar valued order and caution, and she was very precise about this. She was careful and neat and did not like change, and so talking to her about this was a slow, long process. But, eventually she came about and gave me the task, which involved stepping into chaos and organizing it, stressing the use of the mind and Time... and I came out of it having created a primal talisman, which was the first step on the road to my learning.
Then... then everything was put on hold. I was just barely out of this seeking when It happened. When They came. I still remember their faces, their words, the way they killed some of us and took others, mostly the younger ones, captive...
I had not believed it could happen to me. They took me as easily as anything, and I was helpless. This was a feeling I will never forget; the powerlessness, the helplessness, and the fear. I am ashamed that I let the fear take over, but I did. My parents were told I had died in a horrible accident at the school, and they mourned and grieved and received ashes that did not contain what they thought it did. The door to that life was closed behind me, and against my will.
They took me to a place that was clean, white. It smelled like a hospital. However, these were no doctors, despite their appearances; many were like myself, but not. They relied not on faith, but on gadgetry. They wanted to ruin us all.
I still have the bar-code on the back of my neck. It's the first thing they did. I was held down, mind numbed with the drugs they gave me, and they tattooed their bar-code on the back of my neck. It has a number. I lost my identity when I was with them; they did not refer to me as a person, but rather as a lab animal to be poked, prodded, and eventually disposed of. This code, this was my identity, this was how they knew me.
The second thing they did was inject me with something. I still to this day do not know what it is; it may just be a drug for all I know. However, it dampened, nearly severed, the connection I have with my soul, my Awakened spirit. I could no longer feel her. I felt separated, lost, and could hear her calling from me as from many miles away. She called, she tried, she reached, but she grew distant until the very softest whisper died out entirely.
I have never felt so alone. It was a pain that was deep inside, deeper than losing any living person, and I was unable to forget even for an instant that she wasn't there. The magic was gone. I could not sense anything but the feeling that I should be able to, and it tore me into pieces. I stopped resisting their experiments, I stopped fighting them. I let them do whatever they wanted.
Eventually, I lapsed into Quiet. I withdrew into my own self, lost to the world outside. I do not know how long I stayed there. It felt like hours, but I think it may have been years. It was comforting there, soothing, and without the noise and terror of the outside world. I dimly remember stirring enough now and then to be aware of them doing things, experiments, horrible things, to my physical body. I am, perhaps, lucky they did not dispose of it entirely.
But, she stirred again. She came to in a sudden rush of activity, burning bright and hot. The drugs dampening her had turned her loose at last. She battered me, pressed me, pushed me. She was anxious, unrelenting, and ...not the same as I knew her. She was fearful, bursting at the seams, and above all nearly falling over herself to be near me again. I was at first surprised, and then joyful. I resisted, I am ashamed to say, her efforts to get me out of the Quiet. I did not want to stir. I was comfortable here, and could have - and would have - spent all eternity there had she not decided enough was enough.
I opened my eyes again.
I was no longer with them. Three years had passed since I had withdrawn. Instead of being with them, I was in... a facility, in Colorado, in Crystal Springs. A mental facility. I was deep inside, where they put only the people who are deemed to no longer be responsive to the outside world.
It surprised them, I think. I am confused, still, quiet, and my words are clumsy and awkward like they never were before. I feel uneasy, nervous, and panic wells quickly. I ... don't know where I am, entirely, and I just...
They did more tests. They ask me questions, they sent me to a psychiatrist. Finally, as I have no insurance and the state is tired of paying for me, they've decided to release me. I'm supposed to come back for appointments, and they gave me prescriptions for medications.
I... I don't think I'll take them. It's raining outside. I barely know if it's winter or summer, though the air is warm. They asked me if I knew anyone, and I thought of a few names, not even knowing if they were alive anymore. They said they would go to find out...
Upon first awakening, he was sent to a Chantry that was mostly comprised of Chorusters. It was under the guise of a school, Baptist by the books and offically a legitimate private school. He has the equilivant of a high school education.
He was taken in a raid done by the Technocracy; it was not on the school itself, but rather he and a few suspect people were snatched up. The experiments done on him were mostly to test new drugs the technocracy was developing; behavioral modification drugs, officially, and they were ones that were meant to seperate the Avatar from the Mage and to 'cure' the ability to alter reality. It worked, while he was getting constant injections; they kept him for nearly two years, after which the first he went into Quiet.
Finally, they determined he was cured. He was released to an asylum, however, since he was not fit to be released into the world. They deemed it a success. 'Subject B624 moved to different facility: prognosis favorable'.
After a while of being off the drugs, it proved to not be permanent. His avatar resurfaced, and dragged him out of Quiet. However, much had changed, and the seperation for so long has left a mark on both their souls. Even though they may not realize it yet, they are both a little darker, a little more bitter, and a lot more paranoid. Trust will not come blindly, nor particularly easily.
Xander is warm-hearted and willing to help, but as of now he is confused and near-helpless as he recovers. He is calm and very level-headed, and rarely if ever raises his voice. He's soft-spoken and well-mannered, though has little bouts of impishness that now and then arise. The seperation from his Avatar for so long left some mental scars, and thus the boy often seems odd; he seems lost, confused, as though he doesn't know quite how he ended up where he is. His powers are also not what they used to be, and his magic is slowly returning, but it will take some time. He is patient and not easily ruffled, though people who are willfully ignorant or intolerant will quickly get him frustrated and upset. He's sensitive, perhaps sometimes obnoxiously so, and very much a romantic and even occasiaonlly a bit of an idealist at heart (though of course the time spent with the Technocracy has spoiled both of these aspects some).
His avatar was once a Pattern essence when it first awakened. She first appeared to him as a burst of light in a vague human-like shape, occasionally manifesting wings. She was a strong guiding presence, and helped him. However, the seperation greatly scarred the Avatar; she underwent those years in acute sensory deprivation, unable to make herself be heard. She was contained, boxed in, and it was nearly fatal and she was nearly lost. However, when she managed to burst free she was greatly changed. She resurfaced in a panic, frightened of being contained again and even more frightened by the order she had once encouraged. Her essence turned to Dynamic and now she frequently changes, her form often infused with shadow, with flashes of light and dark. She's not as strong as she used to be, but perhaps with time, one may never know?
The way to Ascension is found by doing; ask not who a man is, but rather what has he done. Self control is paramount; those who mind themselves and take full control of their mind and full responsibility over their actions are the ones who will be first in line. Our job is not to force, but to guide; humanity as it stands is not ready to join us, but they are on the right track. Magic is done with the willingness to open one's mind and heart and soul completely; reality is not something to be forced, but rather to be handled with caution and a delicate hand, as things can be broken without this caution.
His magic is done ultimately by believing he can do. This is overly simplistic, but he believes that his powers were given to him for a reason (whether there is an ultimate reason or not), and though he doesn't understand the how or the why, he embraces it fully. His foci often involve the person themselves, but also in drawing symbols and letters. He believes that the will, both of himself and the One that gave him this power, is what makes things possible: if it can be willed, so it can be done, though maybe not immediately.
Xander's beliefs are, perhaps, not fully monotheistic; he believes strongly in an ultimate power, but also believes this is something that mortals, Awakened or no, do not yet fully understand. This power, however, is benevolent but firm, forgiving of mistakes but not of willful disobedience. The Christian God is not far off from this, but he feels that the interpretations the mortal world has made does not leave enough room for others; he believes all faiths are in essence the same but have diverted from the same path a long time ago. He is open-minded and not generally condemning, though he is quickly flustered and frustrated by people who, in his eyes, refuse to understand.
- Logs: http://motomoyo.livejournal.com
How Far You've Come - The Wallflowers
So Far Away - Staind
Friends and Acquaintances Edit
Friends and Family:
- Stuff goes here
- Current +learn
- Life 2: 8/28
- From: Self.
- Approved By: Fenris
- Now that he's back and settled in from being with the Technocracy and in Quiet for so long, he's relearning his old Spheres. Since they are familiar (like something long-unpracticed but not quite forgotten), it's mostly a matter of remembering, but this can take some time. Life in particular has him spending a lot of time at the parks, meditating, and whatnot - just trying to get a feel for the flow of life again and how to affect it.
- Current +teach
- Name: Date.
- To: Student.
- Approved By: Wizard
- Explanation goes here.
- Advancement History
- List Previous
|Dream||2||Fast Learner||3||Mild Phobia||1|
Note: Only spent 3 sphere points. The rest will come later, after he's recovered more.
Freebies: +5 for +1 int, +4 Arete, +2 WP, +1 Merit
Note: Short 2 spheres and 3 freebies and two BGs.
Compulsion, Phobia, and Confusion: Xander has some form OCD, but not in the manner that it stereotypically manifests. Due to his Avatar's recent revival and shifting of Essences, the new, chaotic, dynamic way it prevents itself shows through even his mortal behaviors. His Avatar has a deathly fear of containment and order, and this has manifested in Xander as a compulsion for disarray; he won't go to great lengths, but he will often move things around to create even a slight bit of disarray. It's often very vague; if there is a neat stack of books, he'll move the top few. If something is alphabetized, he'll shift them around.
His Avatar's phobia of containment manifests in him as a milder form of claustrophobia; he won't immediately panic, but it will quickly escalate as his Avatar's panic works through his brain.
The confusion... well. He's been in Quiet for the last few years, and has been seperated from his Avatar for longer than that. That would cause anyone some confusion.
Expression: He's a good writer and has a bit of a, and excuse the cheese, poetic soul. He's good with words. Just not always with expressing them out loud.
Persuasion: Mostly tied to Empathy.
Academics: Primarily literary. Possesses roughly a high school education, given to him through the chantry.
Cosmology: He has been taught some things about the umbra and knows about spirits and such as they are, but little more than this. He doesn't have a particular desire to pursue the spirit sphere, but does know a little information about it in general.
Performance: Singing. Choruster, and such.
Culture: Primarily through a study of people, etc. He has a want to not stand out, and to blend in with society.
Lore: Mage, primarily Celestial Chorus and the other Traditions.