Post by Karkat Vantas on Aug 25, 2012 4:16:29 GMT -5
KARKAT VANTAS
[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]Character Name: Karkat Vantas
Appearance: Appearance wise, Karkat doesn't think he looks too special. Standing at 5'6", he is only slightly under the average height for his age, though he wishes he was taller. Like most of Puerto Rican descent, Karkat has an olive skin tone. However, his skin pales and darkens easily, depending on how much time he does or doesn't spend outside. In addition to Karkat's hair being extremely dark brown, almost verging on black, it is also thick and wild. At this point, he has given up on trying to tame it, instead opting to let it do what it wants. The only thing remotely strange or unique about Karkat is his red eyes, as a result of a slight albinism. Under his eyes you can always spot bags, due to his insomniatic nature.
For clothes, Karkat's wardrobe is limited to mostly blacks and grays, though he does have some other dark colors dispersed in between. You'll almost always catch him wearing a sweater of some kind, even during the summer, since he gets cold pretty quickly. With that, he'll normally just throw on a pair of jeans and some sneakers, not one for fashion. His family doesn't have a lot of money, so his clothes often look old and worn, though he makes it a point to clarify that he could hardly "give a fuck" either way.
Age: 15
Magical Artifact:
Energy Sickles -- has the power to create massive amounts of energy after being charged from an enemy's attack. The charge on the pair of weapons is proportionate to the attack--the bigger the hit, the more power the sickles collect to hit back, having the potential to be absolutely devastating.
Personality: To the outsider, Karkat came come off a little bit harsh. He tries to avoid people in general, choosing to sit in the back of the class and to remain in the background for his own safety. Generally speaking, Karkat doesn't have a very trusting nature, and he's more likely to snap at you first than play friends. His sharp and fast tongue will lash out at anyone who makes him or somebody he cares about feel threatened.
However, Karkat's bark is far worse than his bite. On the inside, he is quite the softy. Among many things, Karkat is absolutely in love with romance, and anything involving romance. Because of this, Karkat considers himself to be a master at romantic topics and is always willing to give advice to those who ask. Besides music, it's one of the few things that Karkat can get really excited over. Though, despite this, Karkat has never actually been in a romantic relationship himself. In addition to this, those who stick through Karkat's initial crabbiness will find that Karkat does get attached fairly easily. He wants to have friends, he's just not sure who he can trust, yet. With his friends, Karkat is a lot more civil. He deeply cares about each and every one of them, even if he sometimes has a funny way of showing it.
Karkat tries to avoid physical confrontation when he can, but that doesn't make him weak. He can hold up his own when he feels like it is necessary, and has in the past. Though, this occurrence is pretty rare. The fifteen year old prefers to embarrass his enemies to the next century inside of knocking them there. It comes to him a lot easier, and he finds it's less messy. Besides, as much as Karkat loves to talk, he's also a keen listener, and can pick up on any dirt he needs to in order to protect himself. He knows when to put his foot down, to say when enough is enough, and it's these things that give him the potential to be a great leader. Despite his rough nature, Karkat knows how to group people together in a time of need and has no problem taking that position if he feels like something is being done inadequately. Though some find this quality annoying, Karkat can actually be pretty helpful in most situations, and he honestly has the best intentions at heart.
Biography: Born and raised in Miami, Florida, Karkat's life has been...difficult since the very beginning. His parents moved from Puerto Rico to Miami, while Karkat's mother was still pregnant with him, in the hopes of getting a better job. They wanted to give their son a better life than they had, since they both came from low-income households. However, neither of Karkat's parents had more than a high school degree, and with his mother having to stay home and take care of Karkat, their only income came from his father's work in a local garage. Therefore, money was always tight in the Vantas household.
Though, not to say that the Vantas household was an unhappy one--somehow Karkat's parents managed to make it work. They held on to the little that they had, and Karkat found himself content either way. Once Karkat was old enough to take care of himself, his mother got a job, as well, in order to remove some of the burden from her husband's shoulders. She worked a desk job at a small music school in downtown Miami. It was because of this job that she was able get Karkat into the school. Karkat had always loved music, and it was at his mother's work that he learned to play the violin. The violin would become something that would bring their family closer together, his parents encouraging him to pursue his talents.
At home, Karkat quickly learned how to live alone. It became his responsibility to cook dinner for when his parents came home and to clean the house while they were away. In essence, Karkat had to grow up fast. Though, despite his whining about all of the chores he had to do, Karkat was happy to help in whatever way he could. Soon, though, his mother would be hit with cancer. She had avoided seeking medical attention for a long time, unable to pay for the medical bills it would take to get a doctor to check her out. It wasn't until too late that Karkat and his father finally convinced his mother to see a doctor. She would die later that year.
His mother's death was a hard blow to the Vantas family, who had always been tight-knit. His father ended up having to take on another job in order to compensate for the now missing income, and Karkat begin to do little odd jobs around the neighborhood in an attempt to help pay some of the bills. Because of this, Karkat became withdrawn from social interactions at school. They didn't understand why Karkat was so busy all the time, or why his clothes were always so worn, or why he was always so tired. He had already been picked on in school for his red eyes, so the current situation only made the bullying worse. Over time, Karkat developed a hard shell around himself, learning that with glares, a frown, and many harsh words he could ward off almost any attacker. Almost. It wasn't often, but Karkat sometimes got into fights at school, his short temper getting the better of him.
It wasn't long before Karkat's father realized it was time to leave Miami and start fresh. His friend had an opening for a job up in New York that paid a lot more than what he was currently making. Karkat was completely against it, hating the idea of "leaving mom behind." It was a bitter battle, but Karkat didn't really have much of a choice--his father had made up his mind. So, taking the few items they owned, they moved to a small apartment in Manhattan.
So now here they are, in a brand new place filled with brand new people, adventures, and opportunities to be explored. Now, if only Karkat could raise his head long enough to notice.
Quirk Sample:CG: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?
CG: YOU GUYS CALL THIS POOR EXCUSE FOR A PITIFUL PLAYGROUND SANDBOX A BEACH? SERIOUSLY, WERE THE FUCK ARE THE PALMS TREES? THE BOARDWALK? THE WHITE SAND? THE IDIOTIC TOURISTS WHO CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THEIR PLASTIC FUCKING SUNGLASSES AND THEIR TAN-LINED ASSES? MY EYES ARE BURNING JUST FROM LOOKING AT IT.
EB: but karkat, there is a palm tree right there.
CG: ...
CG: SHUT UP, EGBERT. NOBODY ASKED YOU.
EB: (heeheehee)
Paragraph Sample:
The sound of the bell was like a God sent. Almost immediately, Karkat jumped from his seat, grabbed his already packed bag, and shoved his way out of the classroom. It came to no surprise that the hallways were packed with students eager to return home after a grueling day of school. Even so, Karkat couldn’t help but grimace at the populace, quickly letting his head hang low as he tried to squirm his way to his locker on the other side of the hall.
After finally pushing himself through, Karkat followed the row of lockers until he reached his own. It took a bit of struggling to get the lock open, but, once it was, Karkat took no time switching out the textbooks he needed for homework that night with the ones in his backpack. Thankfully, Karkat didn’t have much homework, which meant that he had some free time before he had to head to the apartment. His dad wouldn’t be return until later that evening, so Karkat was sure he wouldn’t mind if his son stayed out a little longer. With that in mind, Karkat swiftly slipped back his bag and pulled out his violin case, gripping the handle firmly before securing his locker. Once again keeping his head low and body close to the lockers, Karkat made his way down the hall, toward the back of the building.
Soon, Karkat found himself at the door of the band room. By then, all the students had cleared the halls, allowing Karkat to have some room as he tilted this way and that to look through the tiny window on the door. Thankfully, the lights were off and no one was inside. A sigh of relief slipped past Karkat’s chapped lips before he pulled open the door and stepped inside, letting it shut behind him.
His eyes squinted for a moment when he switched back on the lights, taking a moment for his vision to adjust before moving to one of the many empty seats. Flopping down on the chair and then putting down his baggage, Karkat made himself comfortable, leisurely pulling out the music sheets he had stowed in his pack. Carefully, he placed them on the music stand and then moved down to open the black violin case, taking the instrument inside of it out as well. He easily adjusted himself to fit the violin, lifting up the bow to begin to play the first few notes when the sound of an opening door snatched his attention.
Karkat’s head flew up to see who was entering, his red eyes wide and his body tense, but relaxed slightly when he recognized who it was.
“Oh,” the older man said when he noticed Karkat, blinking back at younger teen from the open door, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here.”
“Hello to you, too, Professor,” Karkat greeted in a respectful tone. “It’s no problem. I was just here because the room looked empty, and you said in class that we could practice here after school, so…” At that the teacher nodded, using a mahogany cane to help move forward as he started toward his desk.
“Of course, my students are always welcome to come in and practice,” the man flashed Karkat a bright grin before making it to his desk, “I just forgot something. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.”
Karkat sat awkwardly in his seat as he watched the teacher shuffle through the drawers, not sure exactly what he was supposed to do. He let his instrument rest in his lap, eyes flickering toward the door as he thought about just screwing it and practicing another day. The teacher let out a chuckle.
“Karkat Vantas, right?” The older man asked with a slight smile, keeping his gaze at the task at hand, “You just moved here, didn’t you?” Karkat blinked in response, surprised that his teacher remembered him after only a couple of days.
“Yeah,” Karkat answered with a nod, “Though, I didn’t want to. Why so many people find this shithole appealing, I’ll never know.” The teacher let out a soft laugh.
“You got fire in you, kid,” the professor added, “That’s good. Don’t ever let that go.” With a hum of approval, the teacher glanced up at Karkat.
“So, you play the violin?” Karkat bit back the sarcastic comment dancing at the tip of his tongue before letting out a long sigh.
“I would if this thing wasn’t also a fucking piece of shit.” Time had not been kind to his old friend, and Karkat was never able to make enough money for himself to buy a new one. “But, it’s all I have for now, so it’ll have to do.”
A breathy “aha” echoed through the room as the music teacher found the papers he was looking for. He quickly slipped them into his brief case as he replied, “Well, sometimes the most wonderful things are found in the grungiest of packages.”
“I guess,” Karkat snorted, staring down at the shabby wooden object on his lap. The teacher hauled his brief case from the desk, and let it hang by his side before pausing to look at Karkat once again.
“Everything has the potential for greatness, Mr. Vantas, if given the chance to be.” Karkat raised a brow, giving his teacher a strange look, to which his professor only smiled.
“Well, I best be off,” the teacher announced, making his way back over to the door. “Good luck with your practice; just make sure to turn the lights off when you leave.” And with that, the teacher walked out of the room, leaving Karkat in solitude once more. The teen stared at the door for a moment, before shaking his head in exasperation. Fucking New Yorkers, they just kept getting weirder.
Picking back up his violin, Karkat gently rested the wooden instrument on his collarbone, pressing his head lightly against it to keep it still. He then let his eyes slide shut as he pulled the bow across the strings, letting the notes of a familiar song engulf him. The music filled his mind and his thoughts, transporting him far away, back to Miami, where he belonged.
After finally pushing himself through, Karkat followed the row of lockers until he reached his own. It took a bit of struggling to get the lock open, but, once it was, Karkat took no time switching out the textbooks he needed for homework that night with the ones in his backpack. Thankfully, Karkat didn’t have much homework, which meant that he had some free time before he had to head to the apartment. His dad wouldn’t be return until later that evening, so Karkat was sure he wouldn’t mind if his son stayed out a little longer. With that in mind, Karkat swiftly slipped back his bag and pulled out his violin case, gripping the handle firmly before securing his locker. Once again keeping his head low and body close to the lockers, Karkat made his way down the hall, toward the back of the building.
Soon, Karkat found himself at the door of the band room. By then, all the students had cleared the halls, allowing Karkat to have some room as he tilted this way and that to look through the tiny window on the door. Thankfully, the lights were off and no one was inside. A sigh of relief slipped past Karkat’s chapped lips before he pulled open the door and stepped inside, letting it shut behind him.
His eyes squinted for a moment when he switched back on the lights, taking a moment for his vision to adjust before moving to one of the many empty seats. Flopping down on the chair and then putting down his baggage, Karkat made himself comfortable, leisurely pulling out the music sheets he had stowed in his pack. Carefully, he placed them on the music stand and then moved down to open the black violin case, taking the instrument inside of it out as well. He easily adjusted himself to fit the violin, lifting up the bow to begin to play the first few notes when the sound of an opening door snatched his attention.
Karkat’s head flew up to see who was entering, his red eyes wide and his body tense, but relaxed slightly when he recognized who it was.
“Oh,” the older man said when he noticed Karkat, blinking back at younger teen from the open door, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here.”
“Hello to you, too, Professor,” Karkat greeted in a respectful tone. “It’s no problem. I was just here because the room looked empty, and you said in class that we could practice here after school, so…” At that the teacher nodded, using a mahogany cane to help move forward as he started toward his desk.
“Of course, my students are always welcome to come in and practice,” the man flashed Karkat a bright grin before making it to his desk, “I just forgot something. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.”
Karkat sat awkwardly in his seat as he watched the teacher shuffle through the drawers, not sure exactly what he was supposed to do. He let his instrument rest in his lap, eyes flickering toward the door as he thought about just screwing it and practicing another day. The teacher let out a chuckle.
“Karkat Vantas, right?” The older man asked with a slight smile, keeping his gaze at the task at hand, “You just moved here, didn’t you?” Karkat blinked in response, surprised that his teacher remembered him after only a couple of days.
“Yeah,” Karkat answered with a nod, “Though, I didn’t want to. Why so many people find this shithole appealing, I’ll never know.” The teacher let out a soft laugh.
“You got fire in you, kid,” the professor added, “That’s good. Don’t ever let that go.” With a hum of approval, the teacher glanced up at Karkat.
“So, you play the violin?” Karkat bit back the sarcastic comment dancing at the tip of his tongue before letting out a long sigh.
“I would if this thing wasn’t also a fucking piece of shit.” Time had not been kind to his old friend, and Karkat was never able to make enough money for himself to buy a new one. “But, it’s all I have for now, so it’ll have to do.”
A breathy “aha” echoed through the room as the music teacher found the papers he was looking for. He quickly slipped them into his brief case as he replied, “Well, sometimes the most wonderful things are found in the grungiest of packages.”
“I guess,” Karkat snorted, staring down at the shabby wooden object on his lap. The teacher hauled his brief case from the desk, and let it hang by his side before pausing to look at Karkat once again.
“Everything has the potential for greatness, Mr. Vantas, if given the chance to be.” Karkat raised a brow, giving his teacher a strange look, to which his professor only smiled.
“Well, I best be off,” the teacher announced, making his way back over to the door. “Good luck with your practice; just make sure to turn the lights off when you leave.” And with that, the teacher walked out of the room, leaving Karkat in solitude once more. The teen stared at the door for a moment, before shaking his head in exasperation. Fucking New Yorkers, they just kept getting weirder.
Picking back up his violin, Karkat gently rested the wooden instrument on his collarbone, pressing his head lightly against it to keep it still. He then let his eyes slide shut as he pulled the bow across the strings, letting the notes of a familiar song engulf him. The music filled his mind and his thoughts, transporting him far away, back to Miami, where he belonged.
Other: Header picture here![/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
OOC: Omg, I’m sorry for how long this is, guys. ;o; I did not intend for it to be that way, I promise. >>;;