Profile
- Scar over his right eye.
- Eyes are soft, red, with long lashes and thin eyebrows. Pupils are slitted like a cat's, and behaves like that too.
- Vaguely falls into the uncanny valley.
- PERFECT skin. Like, too perfect.
- Wears contacts usually, but sometimes can be found with goofy big glasses.
- Wears leather most of the time.
- His eyebags are gucci.
- Fatal Flaw: Fear
- Powers: Fear Manipulation, Fear Conjuration, Mistiokinesis, Terror Generation, Very very mild Odikinesis that only comes out in moments of extreme panic, Body Morphing (small amounts)
- Greatest Fear: Causing someone's death
- Theme: ---
- Languages: French, English, Spanish, Greek
Nervous (seems to run in the family, huh) but incredibly intelligent, just good luck getting him to talk. He can’t.
He avoids confrontation, and most negative emotions, as they feed his power. When he gets too strong, Achilles will lock himself in his room and starve himself until he is too weak to accidentally conjure anything.
Loves all things creepy, crawly, ugly, slimy- if it’s a common fear, Achi loves it. Thinks most things are just misunderstood and doesn’t believe in inherent evilness.
- Bugs
- Snakes
- Sharks
- Cars
- Working on cars
- Himself
- His father
- People who crash cars
- His powers
Achilles has a rather typical history for children of fear- his father swooped in, wooed his mother, nine months later Achilles popped out with weird eyes and hair, and he grew up to grow a weird personality to match.
His powers were there for as long as he can remember. He had no friends because the moment he would speak, some minor catastrophe would happen. He was only eight years old when he broke into his mother’s medical supplies, numbed his mouth, and cut his tongue out. If he didn’t speak, then nothing would happen, right?
Very incorrect! He lived in the “ghetto” part of town, as Deimos didn’t really ever send money, and his mother was stuck as an assistant to the only dentist in the area anyone could afford, so thanks to the presence of biased police, drug addicts on the corners, regular burglaries, there was enough terror that Achilles didn’t even have to speak. All he had to do was look at the bus in front of him, watch everyone exit it, and have a fleeting intrusive thought… And the bus exploded. Some of the shrapnel even embedded itself in Achilles eye, and he was expect to be blind if not for the eye-saving laser surgery offered for free, thanks to insurance. (The mortals blamed a faulty gas tank.)
And after that, our lovely walking nervous breakdown decided that he’d help people, and he’d do it for cheap. He poured his heart and soul into a small mechanic business, promising that all you had to do was drop your car off in the garage with a fifty dollar bill in the glove box and in two days it’d be ready to be picked up…
And they always were.
It wasn’t until his 23rd birthday did anything change, and that was courtesy of his mother. She finally decided to tell him about his lineage, the godly parent, and why these things happen to him. 15 years too late to save his tongue, but, whatever. She told him of a camp that could help him control his powers, and he wouldn’t have to hide or starve himself or stay awake for days on end to grow weak- and so he packed up and moved.
