Nicholas Frost

[Nicholas Frost]

Nicholas Leland Frost

Basics

Name: Nicholas Leland Frost
Nicknames: Niko, Nickel, Nikki
Age: Seventeen
Birthday: November 1^st 1995
Gender: Male
Occupation: Student
Species: Gifted Human
Powers:
» Memory Manipulation

The ability to interpret details about people and objects upon touch, then to manipulate them. Random elements of the target's past and present can be gathered. Thoughts are excluded-- only spoken words or actions are transferable. However, on occasion, he has been influenced to see something a person was thinking about or talking about when he touched them. With inanimate objects, he can gain information about them more easily, though, typically it's less relevant information than living targets provide. He's able to interpret things in a variety of ways that seem to 'tap into' people's senses in that moment. Sometimes he sees and hears it as if he were watching a video (it's rather disorienting-- his brain doesn't account for movements the other person makes quickly enough to prepare himself).

Other times, he's listening, with only a vague sense of where he is (ie: home, school, work, ect, with no details about the place) as people talk. Or it's smelling something delicious or foul. He can get emotions, sometimes-- a vague sense that this moment is scary, or happy, or upsetting-- but not anything substantial. Most often, he gets auditory elements of events when he isn't getting a full vision. The longer he touches a person, the more clear an event gets. Unfortunately, some visions are short events, others are long, so at times he simply can't make things clear enough to interpret. Sounds always seem to start first, however, if there are any sounds to be heard. He's limited to whatever they remember (even if they aren't consciously aware that they remember certain details)

Primarily Nicholas only ever interprets others' memories. When he manipulates them, he has to have a strong link with the other person. They have to trust him enough, whether they know his intention or not, to let him into their mind. He has only ever manipulated details, never entire events.

» Technopathy -- Inhuman Knowledge

The natural knowledge base about computers and engineering to create sophisticated nano technology and the ability to communicate with said technology, dubbed 'nanites'. Nicholas cannot directly control them, but he can issue commands that they understand and are inclined to follow. They're sentient beings (A major factor in why they're small- it's AI technology beyond current human understanding that allows for them to function on their own) that gather information for him and are capable of building or destroying objects. They can tap into other technology, such as cameras and hard drives, then relay information to him. They cannot store very much information-- their internal memory has very little capacity, but they can slowly relay information directly to him if he's using a computer or, if it's a small enough file, onto his phone. For those students who do possess a broader strength over technology than Nicholas does, the nanites can be controlled completely by others because once you override their AI programming, they are simply hardware.

However, due to their necessitated small size for effectiveness (Nicholas is capable of making different sizes but rarely, if ever, does he create anything that isn't smaller than his hand because the AI chip is limited), they are not often apparently visible or easy to detect via other means. Magnets will render them ineffective until they're released from the magnetic field, and exposing them to electricity nearly invariably destroys their circuitry. Nicholas relies on his MP3 player, a sophisticated device built with a microphone that allows him to communicate directly to the nanites no matter their distance (and to listen to music). They can also be tracked on his cell phone with ease. To see them on a television or computer, he uses a flash drive programed to track them, never trusting the school enough to save any incriminating evidence to their hard drive.

Nicholas often uses these nanites to construct different objects for him. But this is not as reliable as the ability to form constructs via other means. When he issues an order, he typically draws it (easier for the nanites to retain and review than an audio input of instructions) then sends them off to gather materials and build it. It's up to them to locate an area with adequate supplies and then to implement the design. A drawing of a sword could return an object with a finely crafted blade made of shattered bowls and a hilt crafted from a mushy banana, a decidedly less-than-useful object. Sometimes they just retrieve objects that are already existent as well. When he draws a bomb, they could mistake an apple for similar enough in design and return that to him.

Nicholas' power can be used for other things-- repairing technology and modifying it, too, though things that aren't directly connected to robotics take some logical processing and trial-and-error if he doesn't already possess the knowledge from studying it. He has an easier time understanding technology broadly, but not to the extent that there aren't things beyond his grasp at his present age. He can also communicate with other technology around him, but he sees little use in this: in his experience, the equipment isn't intelligent enough to do anything beyond what Nicholas could do himself. For example, he could ask the computer to return a search for a certain query and it would use a search engine, but information would still be displayed on the attached monitor-- it's nothing more than a tedious way to replace input devices. He could play a movie from a VCR, or turn one on without pressing the button. His two methods would be to touch the device in question, creating a direct link to channel his ability, or to communicate with his MP3 player that amplifies the calculated commands his mind naturally understands.

Appearance

Hair Color: Navy
Eye Color: Cerulean
Scars: Nothing noteworthy
Tattoos: Sharpie tattoos, otherwise none
Piercings: None
Accessories: A cylinder MP3 player and headphones primarily
Full Appearance:

Hues of cerulean define Nicholas' gaze. Grudging grins and calm stares characterize the common expressions strangers encounter. Blue hair covers his scalp, often gaining him a second glance whenever he's beyond the confines of Ashford. Pale skin reveals his disdain for the practice of tanning and his subsequent appreciation for sunscreen. A small cylindrical MP3 player with an LED screen hangs from his neck, attesting to his fixation with technology. The attached headphones nearly always fit against his ear or hang down from his shoulders.

Nicholas stands at five feet, eight inches. He wears his prefect uniform with pride, keeping it pressed to keep up appearances. Even his shoes get shined at least once a week. Black socks are the only socks he wears with his uniform, but when he's not in his uniform, he has a few colored argyle socks that get circulated through his wardrobe along with a few colored dress shirts and dark colored jeans. He has a blue hoodie with him at the academy, though it gathers dust in the depths of his unopened dresser drawer along with the other rejected mementos of life before Ashford.

In those rare moments that you see Nicholas without his blazer or long sleeved shirts, one will find evidence that he regularly doodles with sharpies upon his forearms and wrists. This often leaves ink stains scattered across his skin, particularly on his hands, though on occasions in the early morning hours one might encounter him scrubbing an ink spot from his cheek or forehead when he's forgotten the ink from his latest drawing hasn't yet dried. The underside of his belts also sport drawings and text in bright colored sharpies, a fact he does not admit to willingly.

Persona

Likes:
» Typography

Have you ever noticed that epic sans serif font Star Wars uses? Just think about it! It's iconic! I mean... Uhm.. Yeah, I noticed the shooty storm troopers, too.

» Grape Juice

I dunno. It's just yummy. I really think if the color purple had a taste, it'd taste like grape juice. I like just grapes, too, especially wild green grapes. Oh, and butterscotch! Caramel, too! Strawberries, artificial watermelon, Sprite, all delicious. Mmm, and tomatoes! I love tomatoes. And potatoes.

» Blankets

Mmm, I love being warm. I don't hate being cold-- there's a time and a place, and I have no objection to laying out in the snow, but there's something incredibly happy about curling up with a nice, warm blanket and falling to sleep. I have a very strong attachment to my blankets, actually, once they've been with me for a while. What in life is more loyal than a blanket? I like hugs because they're usually warm in two ways, and I like heater vents. I like them to the extent that people notice. People joke that I'm like a moth to a flame, but I'm not going to admit that I find it amusing. Honestly? My electric blanket, which mother bought when I found out I'd be attending the school, has been one of my favorite things. It's one of those can't-do-without items.

» Photography

What's not to love? The elements of design can be captured on a device that can fit in your palm. It's fascinating. Just fascinating. Nature creates so many remarkable instances of just pure masterful design. More people should pay attention. Oh, or golf, I like taking pictures of golf. I like to play golf. And dancing, I'll take pictures of dancers. They're just so ... beautiful. Cinematography is also just remarkably alluring to me. I also adore people in glasses -- a lot of the people I take candid pictures of have glasses. Oh, or rainbows. Rainbows are interesting. Not rainbows depicted in drawings, but real life, after a rainstorm rainbows. And bees! I like bees.

Dislikes:
» Poetry

Poetry. Bleh. Lookit, I can rhyme. Time. Slime. Grime. Truth? I can't write poetry. Always struggled. I memorize some if it's worth memorizing though. I think most isn't.

» Instructions

I'm totally a free spirit. People should allow me to make my own rules. Erm, okay, while I write technical writing, I'm terrible at retaining steps in a recipe while preparing it. Technical writing seems useless. I get a little over excited and, well, most ingredients end up in all at once whether they're supposed to or not. So ... Yeah. I don't cook, or handle elaborate wiring situations unless there are diagrams for each step. And elaborate assignments I'm given? Forget about it. I also rarely, if ever, know how to get where I'm going when I travel somewhere unfamiliar, even with directions provided. I'm the type of person who reads it thirty times and still feels nervous I'll mess it up or that something will have changed. But when it does get messed up or changed, I find it easy to handle it. Haha, yeah, leave it to me to panic over something I'm not scared of. The secret is, I retain information I hear more easily than information I read-- but I still feel uncertain in the situation.

» Floral

I don't know why girls like flowers. I don't like the smell of them at all. I see nothing appealing about them. I don't like how the majority of them look, either. Other than to encourage bees to visit, I see no purpose. Girls with flowery perfumes make me wonder-- why smell like an odd plant? I mean, vanilla and fruits are great, but lilac? What even is that? And floral patterns? Most of the time it looks ridiculous, be it wallpaper or articles of clothing. I'll admit, I struggle to take people seriously when they're wearing gaudy floral clothing.

» Inattentiveness

Alright. Warning time. Don't call me, then chat with someone else you're standing near. Don't call me over, then involve yourself in a text message conversation. Don't waste my time. Don't ask me a question, then ignore my answer or ask again. If I give you my attention, pay attention! People these days ... Yes, I have been told I'm cranky and worse than an old man, thank you very much. I also don't like when people leave doors open that lead outside, or when they leave the milk out. C'mon. Don't waste your time half assing it.

Habits:
» Volume

When there are numbers to the volume display, he sets it as three, five, nine, or any numbers that end in zero or five once he passes nine.

» Walking

Unless he's trying to 'protect' someone by walking near the traffic, he walks beside people opposite of the traffic when near a road.

Fears:
» Car accidents

When they stick you into therapy, they want to help you. They say it over and over and over again. When you make progress, it validates them. So if anyone ever asks, I was cured of my reservation about cars, and I don't have nightmares about car crashes routinely... But if you want the truth, I have a lot of nightmares about car accidents. A. Lot. I fear losing people, I fear dying myself in one, I fear losing my voice, I fear the moment when Noah lost his... I often try to imagine what it was like for him, and what he might have said in that moment of impact. I try to envision the night the way the story's told.

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» Breaking someone's heart

I know I seem gruff. I know people think I don't care. I like it that way. But I never want to hurt someone who cares for me. Even if it's inevitable, I still find myself considering my actions and words, weighing them carefully and, more often than not, just not speaking. Sometimes I can be harsh... Often, I am. But they don't care, right? I'm just some guy. Some guy who's harshness doesn't phase them. Some guy who they'll never fall for. Worrying about the pain that's coming, not for me, but for them, keeps me from wanting to rush into relationships or, truthfully, to ever form them at all.

Secrets:
» Therapy

A lot of people don't know he has been and still attends therapy. Sometimes he makes offhand jokes that reveal the truth to a select few, but usually he keeps it to himself.

» Sign Language

If you don't see him with his brother, he does his best to evade conversations about sign language. He won't often say that he knows it or why he knows it. Though it isn't really a well kept secret, he dislikes telling people unless he feels like he has to. For him, it's an aspect of his life that is very personal and very far removed from school and socializing generally.

Hobbies:
» Writing

If he could spend a lifetime writing, he would. Journalism, scholarly research, business communications, creative endeavors ... Anything, as long as words fill the pages with his signature attached. Along with writing, he enjoys designing.

Traits:
» Intelligent • Perfectionist • Patient • Loyal • Creative • Paternal • Shy • Distrustful • Overconfident • Harsh • Introvert • Idealist


People/Past

Family:

Matthew "Matteo" Jansen Frost [Father, forty-two, Urixi IT Analyst], Jeanine Maria Moon [Mother, thirty-seven, Urixi General Manager Secretary], Noah "Roo" Rugger Frost [Brother, sixteen, student]

Pets: None
Friends: None yet
Crushes: None yet
Enemies: None yet
History:
» 'Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My patience grows thin, though I love my son dearly. May he not hate me for my anger, may he recognize the moments of patience, however fleeting...'

-- Matteo Jansen Frost, December 30th, 1995

Three AM. He was wailing. Sometimes the new addition to the Frost family didn't seem like such a blessing. Sometimes he was the focus of the confessions they presented to their priests. Well, actually, most of the time. Parenthood wasn't supposed to be this difficult, was it? Nicholas was relentless. Any hopes they had of teaching Nicholas to cry himself to sleep at night opposed to being soothed anytime he wanted to were dashed promptly. Nicholas got what he wanted when he put his mind to it. But it wasn't until he was several months past his first birthday that their patience was rewarded. Not by appreciation or affection, but by disinterest. Once he could walk and could speak, he shunned the television and his parents' affection in favor of an assortment of toys that were bought for him. The same persistence that characterized his need for attention now manifested in intense focus in his own little world. His parents counted it as a blessing: they'd need a mature, self-reliant little boy if their next child was anything like Nicholas was.

» 'I don't want to go with Noah. Can't I stay with Ryder? Please, mom, please! Ryder's mom said it was okay! Ask her, mom, ask! ... I can? Thank you, mom! ... No, I won't stay up too late ... Love you, too, mommy.'

-- Nicholas Leland Frost, March sixth, 1999

Those moments when the entire world changed don't always have a specific time stamp. But the police report provided Nicholas with an approximate one. It was the year following the Y2K panic. The year that some didn't believe would happen. The year Nicholas would come to hope wouldn't have happened. Noah was three that year and Nicholas was five. January came and went. February brought a job opportunity and necessitated placing Noah in a local preschool. March brought anguish. March sixth. It was March sixth. Monday was bound to be a very busy day for the Frost parents. They wanted a break, just a small break, instead of taking the children along. They agreed that the boys could visit their aunt, Matteo's sister, on the sixth of March. They could stay for the day. It would be good for them and their aunt was more than happy to accommodate the boys for the rare visit. Nicholas opted for a sleepover with a friend instead so Noah went alone. Just shy of eight PM, Matteo left the family home to retrieve Noah.

» 'Mr. and Mrs. Frost? I'm terribly sorry to call you in from work, but I think you should see this. This was brought to my attention by his teacher this morning...'

-- Regan Conrad Larsen, April 7th, 2000
Lestrade Elementary Principal (1990-2003)

Matteo arrived before nine. The siblings chatted comfortably, Noah lazily laying on his father's leg with the rest of his body curled up on the second seat of the couch. His sleepiness is what prompted Matteo to bid his sister farewell. At nine forty-three PM, a drunken group of teens slammed into the right side of the Frost's homeward bound sedan. Noah's head slammed into the side of the car as Matteo lost control of the vehicle. There was blood. So much blood. Noah's skull had cracked. Nicholas and his mother spent the night at the hospital in the room Matteo and Noah shared. Matteo made a quick recovery. Noah didn't. Noah lost his ability to speak due to the trauma to his brain. After the diagnosis, Nicholas wrote in his journal one single sentence that changed his life. 'They stole my brother's voice.' That's when the counseling began and when the pity extended to him. Noah was now mute, and people felt sorry for him, as if he were suffering just as much as Noah. It was absurd. Nicholas resented it. He tried to express to Noah that he didn't want the attention, but his own words never satisfied him. Before long, Nicholas simply grew quiet to retaliate against the attention.

OOC

OOC Name: Decimus!
Other Accounts: None right now
RP Sample:

"Huuu." McKinley puffed, her mouth just inches from the cupped palm of her right hand. A scent of green apple met her, not at all unlike the gum she had been chewing before for this very purpose. The delighted smile that formed signaled her satisfaction as McKinley dropped her hand and entered the cafe, laptop pressed against her side by her left hand. With quick analysis, she assessed that the cafe was a bit slow today, which suited her. Being new to the town, somehow a small group felt safer. Fewer than a third of the tables were occupied, leaving her to slouch into the space where the high backed chair and the wall met. In front of her the Mac she brought flickered to life, illuminating her golden eyes.

McKinley looked totally at home in the cafe, as if she were a regular and not a complete stranger to the town. She was wearing a pink tank top, concealed by a buttoned up denim jacket and a pair of black skinny jeans. Her shoes were of the 'skater' variety-- a brown pair of vans with black laces and white soles. Certainly not the most interesting outfit, and not even the most interesting one in the room.

And then, it happened. The unanticipated, but completely regular event that made McKinley Levine's face crumple into one of unnecessary disapproval and made her shut the white laptop and settle back, farther in the seat. Having forgone the effort of bringing her charger, predictably the computer battery gave out, forcing her to pay more attention to the occupants of the cafe.

The End

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[Bandy]

Accepted
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