Whisper
From Spfi Wiki
| Line 3: | Line 3: | ||
Full Name: Theonalius September Johannson | Full Name: Theonalius September Johannson | ||
| + | |||
Alias(s): Whisper, Theo | Alias(s): Whisper, Theo | ||
| + | |||
Age: Twenty-four | Age: Twenty-four | ||
| + | |||
Gender: Male | Gender: Male | ||
| + | |||
Species: Human, with technological improvements | Species: Human, with technological improvements | ||
| + | |||
Spiritual Companion: Keil Greaver | Spiritual Companion: Keil Greaver | ||
| + | |||
Occupation: Professional Ghost Hunter | Occupation: Professional Ghost Hunter | ||
Current revision as of 02:20, 1 September 2007
Full Name: Theonalius September Johannson
Alias(s): Whisper, Theo
Age: Twenty-four
Gender: Male
Species: Human, with technological improvements
Spiritual Companion: Keil Greaver
Occupation: Professional Ghost Hunter
Contents |
Personality
Personality:
I think it's pretty obvious that I'm fucking awesome. I mean, I'm rich, charismatic, handsome as all hell. Who doesn't want me? Especially Keil--I've seen the way he looks at me behind my back. Like I carry a compact around for my health. What a homo.
Likes: Lemme think. I like women, smokes, drinks, cursing, and kicking the living shit outta Keil. I swear, he's such a sissy. Like, there was this one time when I was eating some steak, right? And he was all, "Please let me have some, Theo! I worship you!" And I was all, "Fuck no, homo." (Technically, this exchange never existed, as Whisper is a vegetarian and he would never force his hand against Keil.)
Dislikes: Keil. That's about it.
Physical Attributes
Appearance:
Well, besides being fucking hot....okay. I guess you can't see me. Well, I've got orange-ish hair--goes to about my shoulders--and I wear it in pigtails. You know, to keep it out of my eyes. Shut up. Chicks dig it. Anyway, my skin's pretty dark, but it's got a pretty obvious gray tint to it. Unfortunate family genetics passed down. I usually wear dresses--stop laughing, right now, or I'll slice your face open. Anyway, I usually wear dresses because it's part of my family's tradition and uniform. Don't ask me why they couldn't design a female uniform. They just couldn't. That's just how it--shut the fuck up! Stop laughing! Don't worry, it'll heal. Just wrap your shirt around it. Don't be such a whiny bitch; the bone's not broken. It's just a fracture. Okay, where was I? Well, my eyes are brown. I have a robotic enhancement on my left arm and both legs, but it does make me any taller. Just faster and my left arm is stronger. I usually wear boots with cleats because I get better traction. Naturally, they have a bit of a heel on them, and that doesn't help the balance any, but they make my legs look fucking awesome. When I'm not in uniform, I'm usually wearing suits and tuxedos and attending my dad's parties. He's always throwing these huge bashes and inviting celebrities over so people can oggle at Mom. What an ass. Oh well, Mom doesn't seem to mind as long as he keeps funding our investigations. Which he does. It's a pretty ridiculous cycle. Oh well, as long as they leave me the fuck alone and keep introducing me to the hotties, I don't give two shits about their personal war.
Weaknesses:
What the fuck?! I don't have weaknesses! (Being only Human, Whisper is vulnerable to about anything you can think of, from disease, to poison, to bullets, to old age.) Strengths:
Almost my entire body is nothing but strength. But, basically, I'm an expert swordsman, pretty good at aikido, handsome, brave, charming, and, not to mention, incredibly modest. The ladies practically throw themselves at me. Yep, I've got it pretty good. Plus, it doesn't hurt that I've got all that money just begging to be spent on my endeavors. I'm pretty fast and have a good grip on acrobatics, not to mention my left arm is pretty strong compared to other Humans. Abilities:
Like I said, I rock with a rapier. I run fast and my agility's pretty high. I'm resiliant to most basic kinds of magic and immune to bites that werewolves and undead usually come with. As said before, I have robotic enhancements in three of my limbs. They're waterproof and really help if I'm fighting underwater. With spells, I can hold my breath underwater for a good ten minutes. After that, my head will probably fucking explode.
Before the Institute
Previous Life:
Let's see, I live a pretty normal life. My parents were the product of an arranged marriage: Mom's family needed the financial support for their Hunts, and Dad's company needed the protecting Mom's family offered. So they hooked up. However, Dad had a little more influence than Mom. He sent my sisters off to boarding school where they couldn't be trained by Mom's Clan. Mom got Dad to agree to let me be trained, thinking that Mom wouldn't possibly force me into the ridiculous costumes her Clan required. She did. Bitch. I got used to it. I began my training as soon as I was able to walk and Mom always presented me to the Clan as a baby girl. What a friggin' pain in the ass. The Clan mentored me in fencing, eastern and western martial arts, and, I have to say, I was much better at one than the other. It wasn't until I eighteen that I decided that I was ready to participate in Clan Hunts. I had to take part in my trial. I got pretty fucking cocky--with good reason. I went after a Werewolf first thing and cornered one. He was too strong for me and my Clan had to rush to my aid, which is pretty fucking pathetic. I mean, really. I wasn't in fucking nursery school. Asshole werewolf would have been fucking dead if I had one more second with him. I didn't exactly come out of it whole. The Werewolf ripped off my left arm and both of my legs. The Clan enlisted the help of The Institute to reattach them, with robotic enhancements. Everyone tells me I should have been fucking dead, but they were overreacting. I'm way too fucking tough to die like that. The Clan was impressed with my breakthrough, but apparently thought I needed more training. They bonded the Werewolf who nearly escaped us to me and we trained together--him in taking orders, and me in giving them. After six years and zero improvement on his part--asshole--the Clan sold our services to The Institute. Which is fucking fine with me, since I can't fucking stand them anyway. So Keil and I are working for The Institute now, but Mom and the Clan still force me to abide by their laws and wear this ridiculous uniform. What a friggin' pain in the ass.
Interactions and Relationships
Personal Feelings Toward Teammates:
Liam - He's a homo. It's so fucking obvious. He totally fucking wants me. Arty - I heard he doesn't like sex, but I'm pretty sure he wants me, too. Fucking homo. Vivi - Have you seen the ass on her? Fuck, if she were still alive, I'd call up The Institute and arrange for a switch between me and Liam, if you know what I'm saying....of course, if she were still alive, I wouldn't have met her. What? She's seventeen? ...fuck. Marigold - Fucking creepy and a demon, but I know she wants me. I have it on good authority that she's not a girl, really. But, technically, she's not a guy. So it's not gay. Know what I'm saying? Keil - You're kidding, right? I've never seen a person so ridiculously pathetic. He's always whining about not being Human and if he's not whining, he's being a total asshole and busting down doors with his face. He's a fucking prick and I can't stand him. If I knew he'd be this much fucking trouble, I'd have driven a silver stake through his fucking skull! Oh...and he's totally a homo. Bottom Line: Make money and carry on the family business. Oh, and score chicks. They totally dig the Hunter look.
