Post by Stephen Ayers on Feb 28, 2012 9:13:56 GMT -5
Name: Stephen Andrew Ayers
Alias: Prince Endymion
Age: 27
Birthdate: September 24
Sex: Male
Occupation: Detective Sergeant for the Metropolitan Police
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 6' 3"
Face Claim: Brandon Routh
Appearance: Tall, dark and handsome. He maintains a professional appearance at all times, even when off-duty, which can sometimes make him seem rather stiff and unapproachable. He prefers simple, classic fashion that doesn't take much thought to make look good.
Personality: Stoic and silent, with a quiet charisma, Stephen is the kind of man that everyone knows of, but few actually know. He excels in most tasks he undertakes and seems to do so with ease, though he will never boast of his accomplishments or flaunt his abilities to others. He sees everything as a means to an end; if it is useful and achieves a goal, then it's worthy of time and attention. Though he is very talented in many fields, particularly sports and academics, he doesn't have any particular hobbies.
He is kind and genial, and though he is friendly to nearly everyone, Stephen has very few actual friends. He is extremely private and doesn't care to be around people who pry into the lives of others. His goals are set in the short-term; solve the case, locate the suspect, assist in the investigation. Nearly all of his time is devoted to work, either with the police force or at the shop owned by his grandfather, and he doesn't engage in many social activities beyond the occasional drink with his co-workers.
Stephen's most closely-guarded secret has to do with his recurring dreams and the anxiety that they've caused him throughout his life. The memories are all linked with a trauma of some kind, and his struggle with controlling what he sees as delusions has made him push away from relationships and emotional entanglements. His greatest fear is that someone will find out about his dreams and that he'll lose everything he tried so hard to hold onto since the last episode; his job, his few friends and the respect of his peers. He even hides his concerns from his grandfather, the most important person in his life. The only person who knows about his intense anxiety (though he has not specified the dreams as the cause) is his doctor.
Powers and Abilities:
Psychometry - He can read the past, present and the future of certain things (primarily objects, but occasionally living creatures) through touch. This is extremely useful in his occupation, which is part of the reason as to why he's progressed through the ranks so quickly. Stephen is semi-aware of this ability, but he does not acknowledge it and thus has very limited means of controlling the power.
Psychokinesis - Specifically, the ability to heal the wounds of others psychically. This power is dormant.
Plant Affinity - Remarkably good with growing things, despite never putting much effort into it. He took over the care of his grandmother's roses after her death.
Family:
Grandfather - Phillip Ayers, owner of Ayers Antiques
Grandmother - Anna Weaver Ayers, co-owner (deceased)
Father - Jonathan Ayers, doctor (deceased)
Mother - Martha Clarke Ayers, nurse (deceased)
Other Connections:
Sean Scott (Kunzite) - police partner, friend, protector
Dr. Orson Paget - primary care physician
History: Stephen was six years old when his parents were killed in an automobile accident. He was in the back seat of the car and survived, but suffered severe head trauma and spent the following three weeks in a coma. His first actual memory is waking up in a hospital bed and being told his parents, whose faces he could not recall, were dead. Due to the severity of the injury to his head, he was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia, but from his hospital bed, Stephen insisted that he did remember. He remembered all sorts of things that happened a long time ago, when he was a prince and there was a great kingdom on the Moon. At the doctor's recommendation, he was given weekly meetings with a child psychologist. Over the course of four years, he was taught to recognize that his fantasy was simply an outgrowth of his post-traumatic stress and a way to cope with the loss of both his parents and his memory. In the years since, Stephen has thought very little of that day.
He grew up as an extraordinarily bright child, much to the delight of his grandparents, who had looked after him since the crash. Stephen excelled in academics, sports and leadership, so it came as no surprise to anyone when he was accepted into the ultra-competitive London School of Economics in order to pursue a degree in law. He flourished in university, where he was very popular with fellow students, as well as a favorite among the professors. Everything was going well, until his grandmother's chronic illness took a turn for the worst, and she passed away just before he began his final year of study.
Stephen carried the weight of the loss better than most had expected. He found time to finish his schoolwork and also care for his grandfather, who now lived alone about the family's old antique shop. For a while, it seemed like they would both pull through. That was, until the dreams started again.
It happened slowly. There was just a flash here or a feeling there, but nothing large enough to seem like anything but coincidence. But as the year wore on, the dreams grew longer and darker. His workload was increasing and he was helping out at the shop when he could, but after the dreams began, not even sleep was a refuge he could retreat into. Since falling asleep seemed to agitate the problem, Stephen decided to stop sleeping. He thought that if his body was exhausted enough, it wouldn't have the energy for dreams. The strategy worked, but only for a while. Soon the dreams caught up, and he saw flashes every time he nodded off in the middle of class, or at the shop register. He closed his eyes and he could feel the figures he dreamt of watching him, waiting to make themselves known again.
His grades slipped, his personal relationships suffered, and he cut out nearly everyone he knew from his life. Finally, after the winter holidays, Stephen left school for good and went to live with his grandfather in the small flat above the antique shop. For five months after, he spent most of the time inside, watching mindless TV programs and reading old Russian classics. Eventually, his grandfather convinced him to see a doctor, who wrote him a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication.
The treatment helped, and Stephen soon decided it was time to go back to living his life. After his breakdown, the dreams had suddenly ceased, and his medication kept them at bay. He thought briefly about resuming his studies and finishing his degree, but the shame and the embarrassment were still too raw. Instead, he decided on a more proactive career choice, and made an application to the Metropolitan Police Service.
Stephen served two years as a probationary police constable, after which he went on for specialization as a detective. When his training was complete, he was assigned to partner with Sean Scott, and the two have worked together ever since. Stephen has recently been promoted to detective sergeant, matching ranks with his partner.
Recently, he has started to notice small gaps in his memory...
Writing Sample: As the uniformed constable had his back turned, Stephen knelt down by the broken glass of the shop window and eased off his left glove. He took one look over his shoulder to make sure the others were all keeping busy; one of the officers was taking photographs of the muddy footprints leading into the alley and Scott was interviewing one of the witnesses from the flat across the road... It was clear, so Stephen pressed his fingers to the broken glass and closed his eyes.
He wasn't sure why, but keeping his eyes shut helped. He could feel the moment when the panes shatters; a cricket bat had done that. He could see the reflection of the man who'd broken the window; a boy with his hood pulled up over his head, but his green eyes still shone out from underneath the shadows. He could even hear the shouting of the shop owner vibrating through the glass. That had probably been when the man was stabbed.
There was a jolt and another feeling was coming, but it wasn't from the glass. Stephen opened his eyes.
"Sir? Sergeant Ayers, sir? You need a bag for that evidence?" It had been the constable in uniform.
Stephen shook his head as he stood. "No... I mean, yes. Bag it up and have techs see if they can pull any prints." There wouldn't be any, at least not from the person they were looking for, but he couldn't tell them that. If he did, he would have to explain why, and that could never ever happen.
He raised his head to see how Scott was getting on with the witness. Hopefully they'd get something that would lead them to the green-eyed boy. At least now Stephen knew how to recognize him.
OOC
Name: Kestrel
Over 17?: Yes
Contact: PM or e-mail (kestrel.linden [at] gmail.com)
Alias: Prince Endymion
Age: 27
Birthdate: September 24
Sex: Male
Occupation: Detective Sergeant for the Metropolitan Police
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 6' 3"
Face Claim: Brandon Routh
Appearance: Tall, dark and handsome. He maintains a professional appearance at all times, even when off-duty, which can sometimes make him seem rather stiff and unapproachable. He prefers simple, classic fashion that doesn't take much thought to make look good.
Personality: Stoic and silent, with a quiet charisma, Stephen is the kind of man that everyone knows of, but few actually know. He excels in most tasks he undertakes and seems to do so with ease, though he will never boast of his accomplishments or flaunt his abilities to others. He sees everything as a means to an end; if it is useful and achieves a goal, then it's worthy of time and attention. Though he is very talented in many fields, particularly sports and academics, he doesn't have any particular hobbies.
He is kind and genial, and though he is friendly to nearly everyone, Stephen has very few actual friends. He is extremely private and doesn't care to be around people who pry into the lives of others. His goals are set in the short-term; solve the case, locate the suspect, assist in the investigation. Nearly all of his time is devoted to work, either with the police force or at the shop owned by his grandfather, and he doesn't engage in many social activities beyond the occasional drink with his co-workers.
Stephen's most closely-guarded secret has to do with his recurring dreams and the anxiety that they've caused him throughout his life. The memories are all linked with a trauma of some kind, and his struggle with controlling what he sees as delusions has made him push away from relationships and emotional entanglements. His greatest fear is that someone will find out about his dreams and that he'll lose everything he tried so hard to hold onto since the last episode; his job, his few friends and the respect of his peers. He even hides his concerns from his grandfather, the most important person in his life. The only person who knows about his intense anxiety (though he has not specified the dreams as the cause) is his doctor.
Powers and Abilities:
Psychometry - He can read the past, present and the future of certain things (primarily objects, but occasionally living creatures) through touch. This is extremely useful in his occupation, which is part of the reason as to why he's progressed through the ranks so quickly. Stephen is semi-aware of this ability, but he does not acknowledge it and thus has very limited means of controlling the power.
Psychokinesis - Specifically, the ability to heal the wounds of others psychically. This power is dormant.
Plant Affinity - Remarkably good with growing things, despite never putting much effort into it. He took over the care of his grandmother's roses after her death.
Family:
Grandfather - Phillip Ayers, owner of Ayers Antiques
Grandmother - Anna Weaver Ayers, co-owner (deceased)
Father - Jonathan Ayers, doctor (deceased)
Mother - Martha Clarke Ayers, nurse (deceased)
Other Connections:
Sean Scott (Kunzite) - police partner, friend, protector
Dr. Orson Paget - primary care physician
History: Stephen was six years old when his parents were killed in an automobile accident. He was in the back seat of the car and survived, but suffered severe head trauma and spent the following three weeks in a coma. His first actual memory is waking up in a hospital bed and being told his parents, whose faces he could not recall, were dead. Due to the severity of the injury to his head, he was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia, but from his hospital bed, Stephen insisted that he did remember. He remembered all sorts of things that happened a long time ago, when he was a prince and there was a great kingdom on the Moon. At the doctor's recommendation, he was given weekly meetings with a child psychologist. Over the course of four years, he was taught to recognize that his fantasy was simply an outgrowth of his post-traumatic stress and a way to cope with the loss of both his parents and his memory. In the years since, Stephen has thought very little of that day.
He grew up as an extraordinarily bright child, much to the delight of his grandparents, who had looked after him since the crash. Stephen excelled in academics, sports and leadership, so it came as no surprise to anyone when he was accepted into the ultra-competitive London School of Economics in order to pursue a degree in law. He flourished in university, where he was very popular with fellow students, as well as a favorite among the professors. Everything was going well, until his grandmother's chronic illness took a turn for the worst, and she passed away just before he began his final year of study.
Stephen carried the weight of the loss better than most had expected. He found time to finish his schoolwork and also care for his grandfather, who now lived alone about the family's old antique shop. For a while, it seemed like they would both pull through. That was, until the dreams started again.
It happened slowly. There was just a flash here or a feeling there, but nothing large enough to seem like anything but coincidence. But as the year wore on, the dreams grew longer and darker. His workload was increasing and he was helping out at the shop when he could, but after the dreams began, not even sleep was a refuge he could retreat into. Since falling asleep seemed to agitate the problem, Stephen decided to stop sleeping. He thought that if his body was exhausted enough, it wouldn't have the energy for dreams. The strategy worked, but only for a while. Soon the dreams caught up, and he saw flashes every time he nodded off in the middle of class, or at the shop register. He closed his eyes and he could feel the figures he dreamt of watching him, waiting to make themselves known again.
His grades slipped, his personal relationships suffered, and he cut out nearly everyone he knew from his life. Finally, after the winter holidays, Stephen left school for good and went to live with his grandfather in the small flat above the antique shop. For five months after, he spent most of the time inside, watching mindless TV programs and reading old Russian classics. Eventually, his grandfather convinced him to see a doctor, who wrote him a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication.
The treatment helped, and Stephen soon decided it was time to go back to living his life. After his breakdown, the dreams had suddenly ceased, and his medication kept them at bay. He thought briefly about resuming his studies and finishing his degree, but the shame and the embarrassment were still too raw. Instead, he decided on a more proactive career choice, and made an application to the Metropolitan Police Service.
Stephen served two years as a probationary police constable, after which he went on for specialization as a detective. When his training was complete, he was assigned to partner with Sean Scott, and the two have worked together ever since. Stephen has recently been promoted to detective sergeant, matching ranks with his partner.
Recently, he has started to notice small gaps in his memory...
Writing Sample: As the uniformed constable had his back turned, Stephen knelt down by the broken glass of the shop window and eased off his left glove. He took one look over his shoulder to make sure the others were all keeping busy; one of the officers was taking photographs of the muddy footprints leading into the alley and Scott was interviewing one of the witnesses from the flat across the road... It was clear, so Stephen pressed his fingers to the broken glass and closed his eyes.
He wasn't sure why, but keeping his eyes shut helped. He could feel the moment when the panes shatters; a cricket bat had done that. He could see the reflection of the man who'd broken the window; a boy with his hood pulled up over his head, but his green eyes still shone out from underneath the shadows. He could even hear the shouting of the shop owner vibrating through the glass. That had probably been when the man was stabbed.
There was a jolt and another feeling was coming, but it wasn't from the glass. Stephen opened his eyes.
"Sir? Sergeant Ayers, sir? You need a bag for that evidence?" It had been the constable in uniform.
Stephen shook his head as he stood. "No... I mean, yes. Bag it up and have techs see if they can pull any prints." There wouldn't be any, at least not from the person they were looking for, but he couldn't tell them that. If he did, he would have to explain why, and that could never ever happen.
He raised his head to see how Scott was getting on with the witness. Hopefully they'd get something that would lead them to the green-eyed boy. At least now Stephen knew how to recognize him.
OOC
Name: Kestrel
Over 17?: Yes
Contact: PM or e-mail (kestrel.linden [at] gmail.com)
