<Divergence Application>
1. Name of character- Ferros
2. Real world player- Anderson Drake
3. Age- 24
4. Class- Longarm
5. Clothing - Clothes have always been a particular bane to Ferros. Not in the sense that he hates clothing or just prefers everyone to be naked, but he is indecisive and has a penchant for overanalyzing; this is most evident in his rumination over what to wear. The general outfit Ferros prefers in the field is a near full Victorian fencer style outfit with a little modification to suit his fancy.
Forgoing the flashy if not somewhat emasculating frilly shirt for a reserved low neck partially open three button white shirt, Ferros keeps the shirt nearly concealed with the lower scooping cut of his overcoat. On top of that is a more rugged thin leather fencer coat of a dark blue color with silver outlines along the edges with the occasional wave-like swirl. The pants match the coat in style and leather type but are not skin tight, the thought alone bothers Ferros in ways people can’t even imagine. The pants are rugged enough for wear and tear but clean cut and respectable when they are clean. As far as shoes go for Ferros, a mix between classy yet comfortable is the ultimate satisfaction for the pragmatic longarm. Keeping in trend, the shoes are more akin to plain toe wingtips with the wide soul but the material and cut are more rugged to survive running around the field. The toes of the shoe are nearly perfect hemisphere around the toes which follows all the way up to the vamp. While the shoes themselves may look a little out of place with the outfit, they fit in their own unique way and have been a part of his travels for some time from the look of them.
6. Eye color - Marble Blue
7. Height – 6’2”
8. Hair color - Black with various etchings of white
9. Personality – Oh personality, where to begin with this hapless soul. Ferros is the counter to the day to day personality of Anderson Drake. To say that Ferros is a bit of an experiment for Drake would not be far off, but to think it is a manifestation of thought and not based in his heart would be completely misplaced. Ferros is a calculating, precise individual, much like his real life counterpart but that is about as far as it goes. Where Drake is shy and timid, Ferros is forward and fun loving. Although both are deeply affected by their own set of morals and code of honor, Ferros is more likely to exhibit randomness and craziness than Drake would in the real world. Fighting is as much a joy to Ferros as is being with friends and having a cause to fight for and defend. One detail that will become apparent to anyone tagging along with this perennially hyper longarm is that Ferros is simply addicted to music in ways that would terrify some people. It is not terribly common but sometimes after a particularly fun battle Ferros will break out into dance, singing with his spear (carefully mind you) and dancing around with no regard to the world around him. This is simply how he views his life. Every battle is a dance of energy and metal, every day is a song of another sort, every moment has its own momentum that brings a particular little joy that serves as his own inner light.
10. Weapon: Iron Spear (Repulse Cage)
Armor:
Head – Bandanna (Repth)
Arm – Wristbands (Juk Rom)
Body – Leather Coat (Gan Zot)
Feet – Sandals
12. A writing sample on how you found the world. Not on how you found divergence. This is a fictional story. (Seems Word and this board don't play well together, forgive the lack of indents or any other random issue)
“On my way, I should be there by about 2 p.m.” Anderson sighed as he hung up the phone. Another job, another paycheck, hard to lament about such but this was Anderson’s typical mood. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his job as a safe cracker but more of the fact he found it foolish how people could forget their own combinations so easily. This was only his second call of the day but it did not seek to reassure him of his faith in humanity. Anderson is the sort of melancholy individual that is always looking for something more, never content in what he has or what he does.
Before stepping out the door into the light rain he decided that he didn’t want to lose his music on the short walk to the couple’s apartment. Anderson prefers the rain normally but today he just wasn’t feeling it and wanted to lose himself in his choice of music. Grabbing his overworked iPod and his favorite black and red tribal patterned sweater he set himself up threw up his hood, snagged the tools he needed while throwing them into an overused duffle bag, and stepped out the door into the clean fall rain-shower. It was walks like this that made Anderson the happiest. A long, slow walk with the humanity he hides from. In his mind, everyone is equal when it rains which puts him at ease long enough for him to even relax, if only for a little bit. On he walks bobbing his head to the beat of his music while fighting the urge to sync up with the pace of those around him. This was his day, it was his pace today. Finally he reached the overhang of 1022 Eidos Avenue, pausing for a moment to make sure he was at the right place. Up the steps he trod until he was at the quaint wooden door. He stood there for a moment to compose himself and brush off what water he could before the couple would invite him in, the last thing he wanted to be was unprofessional (any more so than he already was) and get someone else’s house wet in the process.
Just as he was about to reach for the doorbell the door swung open causing a draft to come rushing into the home. On the other side was a boy of moderate height with black scruffy hair, curious eyes, and thin build; pretty much the typical “geek” teenager. It seems the teenager was expecting him which partially amused Anderson; it isn’t every day a door flies open with someone eagerly awaiting your arrival. Just as Anderson was about to address the young boy he turned around and hollered up the stairwell, “Mom! Dad! The locksmith guy is here,” at which point the boy wandered off leaving the door wide open. Anderson took this as his cue to let himself in, which he hastily did so as to not let the heat out of the rather well furnished home. Just as he brushed off his feet and was shrugging off the last of the midday shower the boy’s mother had made her way down the stairs and was now extending a hand to Anderson, nearly startling him. What startled him more was that a person his own size could possibly sneak up on him.
Pulling himself together, Anderson reached out to return the invitation into this couple’s home. After shaking the lady’s hand, she introduced herself as Mrs. Levenson, while remarking on the curious nature of the handshake. About this time Mr. Levenson had arrived at the base of the stairs and was making his way over to meet the young locksmith. With all of the formalities out of the way now, Anderson started in with his usual questions.
“So what kind of safe am I dealing with and where is it located?” led Anderson as he began to look around for the familiar sight of plate metal in an obscure location.
“That would be this way, upstairs in my office,” Mr. Levenson replied while sweeping out his arm to invite Anderson to the second level of their home. “It is just a typical floor safe so it shouldn’t be hard for you to open.” Wasting no time Anderson began to ascend the stairs after the rather stout yet jovial looking older gentleman. Up the stairs they went, around two corners and finally before them is the entrance to what Mr. Levenson called his office. It was more like a spare room that he managed to wedge every single object a web designer might need to run a home business, or assemble a crazed robot bent on turning the world into an Escher drawing given the prints on the wall and the spare parts of everything imaginable lying around the room. This must have been Mr. Levenson’s private garage of sorts, which was the only messy room in the entire house.
“Ah this little guy is your safe huh?” Anderson mocked as he crouched down and began to look at the quaint little floor safe. “Yeah, I know it isn’t much but it is all I really need, I just keep my drawings and plans in there, along with my son’s newfound obsession” Mr. Levenson replied while shuffling through things on the other side of his rather impressive oak desk.
“Obsession?” Anderson pushes on. “You don’t have to tell me, I just ramble off sometimes due to my rampant curiosity.” At this the little stout individual laughed to himself as he replied, “Yeah, it is a new fancy game they call “The World”, looks rather interesting to be honest. Who knows, I might grab a copy myself just to mess with him. Anderson laughed at this as he began to fiddle with the combination lock on the safe, trying to get a feel for the mechanics of it while pushing down the handle at certain points as he spun the dial around and around. About this time Mr. Levenson sighed as he gave up the search for the piece of paper with his combination on it. “I swear Judy must have gone through here on one of her cleaning frenzies again,” he finally added as he walks up behind Anderson to see what he was doing to his little floor safe.
By now Anderson had already begun to tinker with the safe, getting a feel for the rotation of the combination dial and listening to the fence shudder as it tried to fall into the wheel notches. Now began the dance of wheels and flies inside the safe, only an inch or two from Anderson’s ear. His eyes began to close as he fell into the rhythmic sound of metal on metal taking place before him behind a plate of iron. After slowly spinning the dial to hear the first and second contact points, he sat up and pulled out a notepad from his duffle bag and began to write a pair of numbers. 15-25/3 he wrote on the top line in his usual italicized form. Mr. Levenson questioned him about what this meant but by then Anderson was lost in his own little world, his own little battle with this sentinel of secrets. Anderson started to spin the dial a few mores to loosen up and finally set the dial to zero. Returning to his notepad he drew a series of ten dots split into two groups underneath his previous set of numbers followed by three sets of lines to form a sort of chart that was about to unfold. After this rather hasty action he returned to his nemesis once more.
Mr. Levenson unfortunately was forced to watch and wonder what the young locksmith was up to at this point as Anderson would pause whenever he started to speak, only to resume moments later. As the dial spun around Anderson would occasionally use his free hand to scribble a mark here and there in one of the two columns underneath one of the ten dots while moving down the page. Over time, 20 minutes to be precise, there was a rough yet prevailing pattern set of dots appearing up and down both sides of the white piece of paper. At this Anderson spun himself around to lean back against the safe as he started to circle particular dots. These dots were always the closest pair between the two columns. Mr. Levenson looked down to glace at this random set of circles up and down the page and noticed three sets had been circled.
“Ah, so you think you know the combination with all those little dots?” Anderson just nodded and spun back around to put his estimates to work. Trying the first combination was an amazingly failure; the fence didn’t even so much as shudder. Anderson simply laughed at himself and proceeded to try the second combination only to be met with an equally harsh denial. “Well, third time’s the charm as they say,” Anderson remarked as he spun the dial around for another attempt. This time he felt the fence fall at which the largest smile grew upon his face as he slammed the handle down before his foe had a chance to slide out of position and deny him access. Upon seeing this Mr. Levenson exclaimed, “Well I’ll be, I’ve never seen anyone crack a safe in real time before, my son will most certainly be thankful to you for this” as he begins to pat Anderson on the back.
Shuffling back to let Mr. Levenson into his own safe Anderson remarked on the box that held his son’s fascination. It was an interesting box as far as game covers go he supposed, though it wasn’t anything outlandish like a few games he knew. At this he packed his duffle bag and stood up to stretch his back and bask in the success of cracking another safe. He made his way down the stairs to the eager son of Mr. Levenson questioning him if he was successful in his endeavor. “Yeah, it wasn’t too much of a challenge,” he replied as the boy took off tearing up the staircase towards his father’s office. Anderson couldn’t discern the conversation going on upstairs but could most certainly tell it was an energetic one. After a few minutes Mr. Levenson came downstairs with a bounded stack of bills in hand destined for Mr. Drake.
“Here’s your payment as we agreed,” he stated while handing the rather crisp bills over to Anderson.
“Thank you very much,” he nodded in response while shoving the brand new hundred dollar bills into his pockets and throwing up his hood before stepping out the door into the brisk evening air.
On his way home, Anderson passed by a local game store. Curious what the boy was so obsessed with, he ducked inside to have a glance at this game and see what all the fuss was about. Promptly upon stepping inside a teenage sales associate descended upon him before he even had a chance to look around.
“Anything I can help you with today sir?” said the thin framed freckle-faced teenager.
“Sure…have you heard of a game called ‘The World’?”
“Of course I have! It is only our best selling game ever!” as the young boy spun around to grab one of the many boxes lining the counter and thrust it towards Anderson. After glancing over the cover art and reading the description on the back, Anderson decided to go ahead and grab the game just so he could hurry up and get home. After paying for his copy of the game, he tossed it into his duffle bag and headed back out onto the sidewalk to continue his long walk towards home.
Thinking about the idea of an alternate reality the entire walk home, Anderson managed to stir himself into a sort of curious frenzy. After reaching his building and ascending the four flights of stairs to his apartment, he stepped inside and went straight for his computer. Throwing his duffle bag on his bed, he turned on his computer while heading into the kitchen to get something to eat while it booted up. Returning a couple minutes later with leftovers from the night before, he decided to ignore the manuals and pictures that came with the game and just install it while devouring the last of his leftover pizza. After “The World” finished installing, Anderson went about setting up his account while trying to think up something creative yet unique. After all these formalities he was finally ready to hop in and explore this newfound world. Typing in his member address and password, he remarked to himself, “Heh, let the adventures begin I suppose,” as he hit enter.
