Post by Samson Burgess on Feb 5, 2014 22:24:06 GMT -6
(something will be here eventually)
Max Size is 350 x 700
Samson Burgess
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
Profession: Survivor
Occupation: Spelunker
Appearance:
A Survivor bearing a lithe stature, Samson stands at 5'4", notably diminutive for his age. The young man's physique had been forged through a long period of time meandering through Port City and locating shortcuts, scraps, and interesting junk; the time in the sun also accounted for the tan on his lightly browned skin. In most every respect an individual cut out for his job, this spelunker's body is also flexible - his youth spent running and navigating with efficiency has also afforded him the ability to fit through crawl spaces as well as negotiate obstacles. Despite his dainty, agile physique, however, if one were to look closely enough, they could notice that his body was also marred by scabs, cuts, bruises, and all manner of minor wounds accumulated, likely through a long period of fumbling, tripping, or otherwise fouling up. Consequently, it is rare not to see some sort of bandaging or gauze on his person; it is evident that he takes care of himself in some way, at least.
Samson's facial structure matches his physique - gaunt and defined, yet in some part marred by his injuries and fumbles. It was difficult to gauge how exactly one would describe his face - it was angular in some regards, rounded in others, as some sort of odd mix of the two. His bony cheeks could easily lead to the
assumption that it was the former. This would be a rash assumption, however, as despite how thin his cheeks appear, the rest of his features are rounded out. His chin, daintily pointed forward, narrowed out his curvy jaw, which met with the rest of his head. Consistently following the scheme of his oddly self-contradictory facial structure, his nose, while seemingly flat, also narrowed out in shape; consequently, it was long, flat, and still yet defined. His eyes, containing amber-colored irises, are typically squinted, end at narrow points, and yet still maintain a curious roundness to them. The young man's dirty brown hair is relatively short, ending just under his ears and styled messily; the wind, his hands, and his environment tend to style it for him. Rarely does he ever actually put very much effort towards making it look presentable, save for occasions that call for it.
Everyday Clothes:
During the summer, Samson's typical attire is rarely ever out of the ordinary for most people his age; when going on casually, he wears a T-Shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers, the designs or colors on his shirt changing arbitrarily. One day it'll be an ironic terrible novelty tee, and on another it'll be a vibrant design with a pattern of shapes. There'll be a polo shirt or sweatpants here and there, but outside of this, the Survivor's clothing could hardly be considered groundbreaking or trend setting.
In breezier climates, while exploring, or spelunking, however, his attire is a different creature entirely. It appears that Samson customizes some of his clothing articles - when the aforementioned conditions are met, he wears solid-colored hoodies, carefully fit or otherwise modified to ensure that freedom of movement could be afforded to him. Duct tape, stitches, and drawstrings alike are all used to tighten his sweatshirts, giving him the appearance of some sort of post-apocalyptic straggler. Either that, or a parkour enthusiast; it isn't easy for anybody aside from himself to justify why he has to wear what he wears. In similar fashion, he typically wears dark-toned sweatpants, the same modifications done on them as he does his sweatshirts. In this outfit, his hands are topped off with climbing gloves, ones that appear one size too large for him, making his hands look abnormally big. For some insane reason, while outfitted like this, he can occasionally be found wearing bizarre sneakers, ones with heels that light up after every step.
In colder weather, he wears a down jacket, layered over his casual wear, or, if the situation truly called for it, his explorer's outfit. The down jacket itself is puffy, patches of fur stitched onto the rim of his hood and the cuffs of his wrists. The fur itself is so voluminous that it is occasionally difficult to see that his hands are covered with weather-resistant gloves, their fingertips giving Samson a tighter grip on more precarious surfaces. To match this quality in his gloves, he also wears cleated snow boots, giving him traction while walking and climbing on dodgier surfaces.
Formal Garbs:
Samson's formal attire is nothing special, just as his regular outfit is. If one were to trade his wide range of T-Shirts for a variety of differently-colored polo shirts and dress shirts, switch his jeans with dress slacks, and forego his sneakers for a single pair of black loafers, they would have his preferred formal outfit. While he may have funding enough to support a more proper-looking suit or at the very least a tie, the spelunker clearly had other, wiser ideas for his money.
Pack:
A die-hard Spelunker (or a Spelunker aspirer), Samson always carries with him a large traveling backpack. The contents of this backpack varied from pocket to pocket: trail mix, digging tools, climbing gear, and a change of clothes were a must for journeys. His heavy load, all inexplicably wound together into his traveling bag, may one of the factors attributing to his diminutive stature.
Personality:
Samson's personality can be attributed to a wide range of factors: inheritance, his youth, and his influences. The aspect of inheritance is simply just that; there were some qualities he has in him that he shares with his parents. These assets of his personality are just as contrasting as his facial structure - while bearing a strong sense of initiative and a desire to complete his own goals, he is also a highly passive person when interacting with others. Though he holds ambitions and a wild sense of curiosity in general, this is hardly indicative of how he conducts himself in a social regard. It would, in fact, be accurate to claim that young Burgess is an introvert, who somehow manages to explore while often attempting to keep well enough alone. His passivity comes from an internal intent to please everybody; he has a severe aversion to seeing disappointment in other people, especially in him. Though this may be borne by good intentions, it is also a potent inhibition when it comes to seizing social opportunities - he would simply let them slip.
The aspects of his personality developed by his youth was a different matter. Having to grow up and scrap with five older brothers over attention and food, especially in this newer world, was no easy job. His vying for attention and acceptance among his family has caused him to take on several different traits. While highly competitive and fiercely enthusiastic, Samson is also abrasive and irritable at times. Though he never managed to accrue the favor he so desperately sought, he remained the sort of person who reacts to not getting what he wants far more negatively than he should. To strangers, he would never display any behavior of irritability or hostility; however, among friends and close relatives, he does tend to project this behavior. An unfortunate trait, for certain, but one could see it as him trusting them in tolerating the sorer part of his nature.
When Samson's mood isn't marred and his temperament cooled, however, he is a friendlier, generous person. When roused to speak, No favor done is too major for the young man, so as long as it doesn't invite destruction upon himself or others. His magnanimity is to a fault, as even in a land as dangerous as this, he is able to freely give up necessities, often justifying his reasoning by saying 'he can easily find another' or other such excuses. On that subject, the spelunker always seems to be full of those, as well. Odd, too, considering that his nature often leads to him making self-deprecatory remarks. Rather, he attempts to justify poor decisions or losses on his part whenever he is pressed for reasons, the justifications often being flimsy. If it wasn't already clear, he tends to contradict himself quite a bit, and is able to change his mind on a dime at times.
That aside, Samson is a deeply sympathetic person, and when not engrossed in his own preoccupations, he will gladly speak to anybody in need of somebody to talk to; he strives to be a confessor or an aid in some way. In such situations, the spelunker transforms from a speaker into a listener, as he carefully takes apart and attempts to understand another's circumstances from an objective perspective. He is also aware of this much - if ever pressed to describe a redeeming quality about himself, he would proudly state that he has at least some skill in listening.
Likes:
- The concept of caverns, undiscovered, massive expanses (he'd never actually gone anywhere outside of Port City, obviously)
- The freedom to explore and run through open spaces
- The ability to go through crawl spaces and areas inaccessible to most others
- Grilled anything
- Warm colors
- The smell of cigarette smoke (Samson had grown up around this scent)
Dislikes:
- The smell of pollution (not that it's too prevalent in the New World - for now, at least.)
- Bitter food
- The thought of stagnation
- Slackers
- Negative/pessimistic attitudes
- Having to use any form of transport that isn't incredibly flashy, superfluous, or unnecessarily agile in nature
- Criticism
Backstory:
The Burgess family was no eminent power in Nacrene City. A bloodline of artists, the Burgesses eked out a quiet existence in the town of storehouses and containers. They received far less attention, and the works they made often faded away into obscurity. The Burgesses were no trend-setters, and nobody in the family line ever managed to create anything acknowledged anywhere beyond Nacrene itself. They preferred it that way, though; unlike others in the town, the art they made were more founded from hobbyist's tasks. Most family members who lived in the city held down other jobs: working at the museum, the cafe, or acting as Gym Trainers. Some Burgesses even moved out, their wanderlust carrying them through Unova, where they would either make mild success or return back to their home city, content with remaining there.
Earth's gradual withering didn't seem to bother the current Burgess family, its nihilistic members all agreeing that it wouldn't have mattered, regardless. The artists and laborers never had a chance to become known, and as such, they felt they could pass with little worries. Although they decided to try and live through the razing of the planet, they bore no passion in doing so. They moved with caravans, their dull, blank expressions meshing easily with the despair that seemed to run throughout all those who still yet lingered on the planet. Their heightened awareness of their futility among a people who knew their deaths were coming, in itself, must have been some sort of art - others were made incensed by the Burgesses' lack of empathy for others.
When Arceus delivered his message to the dying planet, the Burgess family was in attendance. It was difficult to act as contrarians in the presence of a God. However, when the ever-powerful creature informed its people that the planet was no more, no Burgess even batted an eyelash. They knew it was going to happen anyway - how could anybody not? The creature's warning about the new Earth was taken with trepidation; what the remaining members of the family suspected was exploitation on a wide scale, or some sort of severe danger. Still, seeing as there was nothing for them on Earth, they opted to join the nine-thousand humans who decided to enter into the portal.
Years passed as the artist family fully dedicated themselves to contributing to the reconstruction effort. It was at this point that the family met a resurgence; invigorated by the idea of starting a new and yet apprehensive about diving right in, the Burgesses realized that the possibility of making a name for themselves continued to hang in the air. The idea of flying out of obscurity and becoming known tantalized them more than anything. Redoubling their efforts, the family toiled with the other settlers of the New Earth for some sort of recognition.
Unfortunately, it was not so. What happened instead was that the Burgess family worked just as hard as any other to develop the settlement of Port City - and were yet just as insignificant to others as they had been in Nacrene. Nothing had changed. Despite this, the family's development over the years they had cooperated with others had surged considerably. This generation of the family had inadvertently parented six children, all male. Each one was raised properly, and yet each one received less attention than the last, leaving young Samson Burgess as the sixth child, and the effective runt of the litter.
That applied in more ways than one. Samson was shorter than the rest, and unlike his brothers, was an introvert like no other. The Burgesses felt that this new opportunity meant that the family could make friends and influence people. Naturally, they encouraged their children to become outgoing and to win over lots of friends. The most outgoing child - one that could stand out among others, - was more like to receive their parents' encouragement and support. Samson, among his brothers, attempted to do this the most; at times, he'd approach complete strangers just so he could greet them and attempt to form some sort of bond. More often than not, however, the boy was a bit too forward in his attempts. While he did manage to make some bonds, it didn't feel right. Everything felt forced, as though he absolutely had to make friendships with others. Technically, he did.
Then there was the matter of food. Food was divided among the eight members of the family: his mom and dad would get their takes, and then give the fair rest to everybody else. Unfortunately, Samson, being the shorter individual that he was, rarely got a share he deemed satisfactory. The boy was often taunted by his older siblings, and who could blame them? The youngest Burgess was deficient in attention received, servings of food, and in recognition in general. His aspirations to rise above his siblings provided him with the competitive, abrasive aspects of his nature, for better or for worse. More often than not, though, these aspirations were not satisfied, and the kid found that at the end of every day, he'd be locking himself away in his brother's room.
At least there were things for him at his room. Books, mostly. His mother and father had brought a few of them along with them for the trip. These were no fantastical books about adventures or inspiring works of art for children to dream over - they were excerpts from museum articles. Anthologies about caverns, fossils, minerals, and the like. When Samson had little to do, he'd prod through the books, reading more about the nature of cave formations and what explorers had found within them. This had three results: it made the boy more intimately familiar with mineral identification, an insatiable desire to see a cave first-hand, and an even more insatiable desire to explore wide expanses like caves. One night, when his brothers were asleep, a fourteen year old Samson looked out the window.
What he saw was something inspiring. A cityscape dotted by lights, towering buildings, and the structures that connected them - all of them navigable. Just this one look at Port City roused Samson towards realizing that the wide expanse of the settlement was reminiscent of cavern systems in their sheer expanse. If he so willed, he could navigate the city by running along the roofs. The very idea of having the freedom of selecting a course, moving about uninhibited, and finding his own direction, a direction of his selection, thrilled him. This idea could be applied to actual, proper...
(WIP!)
Appearance:
A Survivor bearing a lithe stature, Samson stands at 5'4", notably diminutive for his age. The young man's physique had been forged through a long period of time meandering through Port City and locating shortcuts, scraps, and interesting junk; the time in the sun also accounted for the tan on his lightly browned skin. In most every respect an individual cut out for his job, this spelunker's body is also flexible - his youth spent running and navigating with efficiency has also afforded him the ability to fit through crawl spaces as well as negotiate obstacles. Despite his dainty, agile physique, however, if one were to look closely enough, they could notice that his body was also marred by scabs, cuts, bruises, and all manner of minor wounds accumulated, likely through a long period of fumbling, tripping, or otherwise fouling up. Consequently, it is rare not to see some sort of bandaging or gauze on his person; it is evident that he takes care of himself in some way, at least.
Samson's facial structure matches his physique - gaunt and defined, yet in some part marred by his injuries and fumbles. It was difficult to gauge how exactly one would describe his face - it was angular in some regards, rounded in others, as some sort of odd mix of the two. His bony cheeks could easily lead to the
assumption that it was the former. This would be a rash assumption, however, as despite how thin his cheeks appear, the rest of his features are rounded out. His chin, daintily pointed forward, narrowed out his curvy jaw, which met with the rest of his head. Consistently following the scheme of his oddly self-contradictory facial structure, his nose, while seemingly flat, also narrowed out in shape; consequently, it was long, flat, and still yet defined. His eyes, containing amber-colored irises, are typically squinted, end at narrow points, and yet still maintain a curious roundness to them. The young man's dirty brown hair is relatively short, ending just under his ears and styled messily; the wind, his hands, and his environment tend to style it for him. Rarely does he ever actually put very much effort towards making it look presentable, save for occasions that call for it.
Everyday Clothes:
During the summer, Samson's typical attire is rarely ever out of the ordinary for most people his age; when going on casually, he wears a T-Shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers, the designs or colors on his shirt changing arbitrarily. One day it'll be an ironic terrible novelty tee, and on another it'll be a vibrant design with a pattern of shapes. There'll be a polo shirt or sweatpants here and there, but outside of this, the Survivor's clothing could hardly be considered groundbreaking or trend setting.
In breezier climates, while exploring, or spelunking, however, his attire is a different creature entirely. It appears that Samson customizes some of his clothing articles - when the aforementioned conditions are met, he wears solid-colored hoodies, carefully fit or otherwise modified to ensure that freedom of movement could be afforded to him. Duct tape, stitches, and drawstrings alike are all used to tighten his sweatshirts, giving him the appearance of some sort of post-apocalyptic straggler. Either that, or a parkour enthusiast; it isn't easy for anybody aside from himself to justify why he has to wear what he wears. In similar fashion, he typically wears dark-toned sweatpants, the same modifications done on them as he does his sweatshirts. In this outfit, his hands are topped off with climbing gloves, ones that appear one size too large for him, making his hands look abnormally big. For some insane reason, while outfitted like this, he can occasionally be found wearing bizarre sneakers, ones with heels that light up after every step.
In colder weather, he wears a down jacket, layered over his casual wear, or, if the situation truly called for it, his explorer's outfit. The down jacket itself is puffy, patches of fur stitched onto the rim of his hood and the cuffs of his wrists. The fur itself is so voluminous that it is occasionally difficult to see that his hands are covered with weather-resistant gloves, their fingertips giving Samson a tighter grip on more precarious surfaces. To match this quality in his gloves, he also wears cleated snow boots, giving him traction while walking and climbing on dodgier surfaces.
Formal Garbs:
Samson's formal attire is nothing special, just as his regular outfit is. If one were to trade his wide range of T-Shirts for a variety of differently-colored polo shirts and dress shirts, switch his jeans with dress slacks, and forego his sneakers for a single pair of black loafers, they would have his preferred formal outfit. While he may have funding enough to support a more proper-looking suit or at the very least a tie, the spelunker clearly had other, wiser ideas for his money.
Pack:
A die-hard Spelunker (or a Spelunker aspirer), Samson always carries with him a large traveling backpack. The contents of this backpack varied from pocket to pocket: trail mix, digging tools, climbing gear, and a change of clothes were a must for journeys. His heavy load, all inexplicably wound together into his traveling bag, may one of the factors attributing to his diminutive stature.
Personality:
Samson's personality can be attributed to a wide range of factors: inheritance, his youth, and his influences. The aspect of inheritance is simply just that; there were some qualities he has in him that he shares with his parents. These assets of his personality are just as contrasting as his facial structure - while bearing a strong sense of initiative and a desire to complete his own goals, he is also a highly passive person when interacting with others. Though he holds ambitions and a wild sense of curiosity in general, this is hardly indicative of how he conducts himself in a social regard. It would, in fact, be accurate to claim that young Burgess is an introvert, who somehow manages to explore while often attempting to keep well enough alone. His passivity comes from an internal intent to please everybody; he has a severe aversion to seeing disappointment in other people, especially in him. Though this may be borne by good intentions, it is also a potent inhibition when it comes to seizing social opportunities - he would simply let them slip.
The aspects of his personality developed by his youth was a different matter. Having to grow up and scrap with five older brothers over attention and food, especially in this newer world, was no easy job. His vying for attention and acceptance among his family has caused him to take on several different traits. While highly competitive and fiercely enthusiastic, Samson is also abrasive and irritable at times. Though he never managed to accrue the favor he so desperately sought, he remained the sort of person who reacts to not getting what he wants far more negatively than he should. To strangers, he would never display any behavior of irritability or hostility; however, among friends and close relatives, he does tend to project this behavior. An unfortunate trait, for certain, but one could see it as him trusting them in tolerating the sorer part of his nature.
When Samson's mood isn't marred and his temperament cooled, however, he is a friendlier, generous person. When roused to speak, No favor done is too major for the young man, so as long as it doesn't invite destruction upon himself or others. His magnanimity is to a fault, as even in a land as dangerous as this, he is able to freely give up necessities, often justifying his reasoning by saying 'he can easily find another' or other such excuses. On that subject, the spelunker always seems to be full of those, as well. Odd, too, considering that his nature often leads to him making self-deprecatory remarks. Rather, he attempts to justify poor decisions or losses on his part whenever he is pressed for reasons, the justifications often being flimsy. If it wasn't already clear, he tends to contradict himself quite a bit, and is able to change his mind on a dime at times.
That aside, Samson is a deeply sympathetic person, and when not engrossed in his own preoccupations, he will gladly speak to anybody in need of somebody to talk to; he strives to be a confessor or an aid in some way. In such situations, the spelunker transforms from a speaker into a listener, as he carefully takes apart and attempts to understand another's circumstances from an objective perspective. He is also aware of this much - if ever pressed to describe a redeeming quality about himself, he would proudly state that he has at least some skill in listening.
Likes:
- The concept of caverns, undiscovered, massive expanses (he'd never actually gone anywhere outside of Port City, obviously)
- The freedom to explore and run through open spaces
- The ability to go through crawl spaces and areas inaccessible to most others
- Grilled anything
- Warm colors
- The smell of cigarette smoke (Samson had grown up around this scent)
Dislikes:
- The smell of pollution (not that it's too prevalent in the New World - for now, at least.)
- Bitter food
- The thought of stagnation
- Slackers
- Negative/pessimistic attitudes
- Having to use any form of transport that isn't incredibly flashy, superfluous, or unnecessarily agile in nature
- Criticism
Backstory:
The Burgess family was no eminent power in Nacrene City. A bloodline of artists, the Burgesses eked out a quiet existence in the town of storehouses and containers. They received far less attention, and the works they made often faded away into obscurity. The Burgesses were no trend-setters, and nobody in the family line ever managed to create anything acknowledged anywhere beyond Nacrene itself. They preferred it that way, though; unlike others in the town, the art they made were more founded from hobbyist's tasks. Most family members who lived in the city held down other jobs: working at the museum, the cafe, or acting as Gym Trainers. Some Burgesses even moved out, their wanderlust carrying them through Unova, where they would either make mild success or return back to their home city, content with remaining there.
Earth's gradual withering didn't seem to bother the current Burgess family, its nihilistic members all agreeing that it wouldn't have mattered, regardless. The artists and laborers never had a chance to become known, and as such, they felt they could pass with little worries. Although they decided to try and live through the razing of the planet, they bore no passion in doing so. They moved with caravans, their dull, blank expressions meshing easily with the despair that seemed to run throughout all those who still yet lingered on the planet. Their heightened awareness of their futility among a people who knew their deaths were coming, in itself, must have been some sort of art - others were made incensed by the Burgesses' lack of empathy for others.
When Arceus delivered his message to the dying planet, the Burgess family was in attendance. It was difficult to act as contrarians in the presence of a God. However, when the ever-powerful creature informed its people that the planet was no more, no Burgess even batted an eyelash. They knew it was going to happen anyway - how could anybody not? The creature's warning about the new Earth was taken with trepidation; what the remaining members of the family suspected was exploitation on a wide scale, or some sort of severe danger. Still, seeing as there was nothing for them on Earth, they opted to join the nine-thousand humans who decided to enter into the portal.
Years passed as the artist family fully dedicated themselves to contributing to the reconstruction effort. It was at this point that the family met a resurgence; invigorated by the idea of starting a new and yet apprehensive about diving right in, the Burgesses realized that the possibility of making a name for themselves continued to hang in the air. The idea of flying out of obscurity and becoming known tantalized them more than anything. Redoubling their efforts, the family toiled with the other settlers of the New Earth for some sort of recognition.
Unfortunately, it was not so. What happened instead was that the Burgess family worked just as hard as any other to develop the settlement of Port City - and were yet just as insignificant to others as they had been in Nacrene. Nothing had changed. Despite this, the family's development over the years they had cooperated with others had surged considerably. This generation of the family had inadvertently parented six children, all male. Each one was raised properly, and yet each one received less attention than the last, leaving young Samson Burgess as the sixth child, and the effective runt of the litter.
That applied in more ways than one. Samson was shorter than the rest, and unlike his brothers, was an introvert like no other. The Burgesses felt that this new opportunity meant that the family could make friends and influence people. Naturally, they encouraged their children to become outgoing and to win over lots of friends. The most outgoing child - one that could stand out among others, - was more like to receive their parents' encouragement and support. Samson, among his brothers, attempted to do this the most; at times, he'd approach complete strangers just so he could greet them and attempt to form some sort of bond. More often than not, however, the boy was a bit too forward in his attempts. While he did manage to make some bonds, it didn't feel right. Everything felt forced, as though he absolutely had to make friendships with others. Technically, he did.
Then there was the matter of food. Food was divided among the eight members of the family: his mom and dad would get their takes, and then give the fair rest to everybody else. Unfortunately, Samson, being the shorter individual that he was, rarely got a share he deemed satisfactory. The boy was often taunted by his older siblings, and who could blame them? The youngest Burgess was deficient in attention received, servings of food, and in recognition in general. His aspirations to rise above his siblings provided him with the competitive, abrasive aspects of his nature, for better or for worse. More often than not, though, these aspirations were not satisfied, and the kid found that at the end of every day, he'd be locking himself away in his brother's room.
At least there were things for him at his room. Books, mostly. His mother and father had brought a few of them along with them for the trip. These were no fantastical books about adventures or inspiring works of art for children to dream over - they were excerpts from museum articles. Anthologies about caverns, fossils, minerals, and the like. When Samson had little to do, he'd prod through the books, reading more about the nature of cave formations and what explorers had found within them. This had three results: it made the boy more intimately familiar with mineral identification, an insatiable desire to see a cave first-hand, and an even more insatiable desire to explore wide expanses like caves. One night, when his brothers were asleep, a fourteen year old Samson looked out the window.
What he saw was something inspiring. A cityscape dotted by lights, towering buildings, and the structures that connected them - all of them navigable. Just this one look at Port City roused Samson towards realizing that the wide expanse of the settlement was reminiscent of cavern systems in their sheer expanse. If he so willed, he could navigate the city by running along the roofs. The very idea of having the freedom of selecting a course, moving about uninhibited, and finding his own direction, a direction of his selection, thrilled him. This idea could be applied to actual, proper...
(WIP!)