Meredith
An Apostle of Ghan with Fiendish Intent
Kenneth (Kai) Faye
24 ~ Male ~ Pan
[SIZE= 18px]Born April 17th[/SIZE]
[SIZE= 18px]Aries[/SIZE]
His powers are pyrokinesis (the ability to control fire with the mind) and enhanced strength. He commonly fights with brass knuckles, and when he is not in combat, conceals his knuckles under black knuckle-wraps.
Kai is approximately five and a half feet tall. He weighs about a hundred and sixty pounds, and though he packs some weight behind him, very few would call him overweight. His hair is a dark red, almost burgundy, and it often matches with his shirt or scarf. Oddly, his eyes are a bright, clear blue.
He wears a lot of black and sliver clothing, often opting for steel-toed boots, and has an assortment of scars over his back and arms, as well as one on his right cheek.
"I am superior to those around me."
Kai will only rarely back down from a fight. He does not enjoy losing, and fancies even the simplest things in life a competition. Partially due to his rocky upbringing, he feels that he needs to prove to the world that he deserves to be there, and that the only way to do so is to outdo his peers. I fear failure.
"I do not wait for others, and likewise do not expect them to wait for me."
This boy is, unfortunately, not used to being loved or loving. He often comes across as selfish, brash, and arrogant. He believes that he is able to live by himself, for himself, without any sort of limit. I fear being alone.
"I want to be the hero."
If I have so little to live for, then it must be that I should not fear giving my life. Some would call Kai courageous, others would call him stupid. It's all a matter of perspective. I'm afraid nobody will know my name.
Kai also intensely dislikes poodles. He'd call it a fear, if he'd ever admit to being afraid.
Violence. Born of hatred. Clothed in fear...
No, that wasn't right. It wasn't nearly so tantalizing, so picturesque as that.
He had grown up in a suburban home. Three other brothers. Living beyond their own means, never enough food, but at least the house was pretty. His father was off somewhere, perhaps in Georgia, with his new mistress.
And the children.. all but left to their own devices.
For a time, he had adored his brothers. He hadn't understood, until he was seven or eight, that they didn't particularly want him around.
Their mother turned to alcohol, and later, heroin.
He was fourteen. Had punched Eric in the face. Made him bleed.
Matthew was angry, yelling, asking him how he could have possibly broken his own brother's f*cking nose but then, Kai had thought at the time, he had baited me. Taken my things and lorded them over me.
He was angry, so he told them so.
Conflict continued. He grew up. Isolated, he never brought a girl (or boy, or anyone else for that matter) home. He had never given much thought to who his friends were. He got into fights at school. That was how he liked it, he thought. Alone.
A few boys (men, at that point, he had supposed) had watched him fight with the quarterback. Goldy Anderson. What a stupid name.
They had congratulated him, on his win, and he had been enthralled.
It hadn't been long before he started taking paid fights.
All back alley brawls, in a basement or backyard, heavy bets one way or the other. It had never occurred to him that he may have an advantage - after all, he had scars just as the other men did.
SUCK IT, NASA
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