Touching Tomorrow
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(7/20/06 8:05 pm)
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Harvey Tomahawk
((Note: This version is complete as is. All done.))
Name: Harvey Oliver Tomahawk
Age: 16
Grade: 10th
Appearance:
Harvey in battle dress
Considering where Harvey originated, Harvey’s appearance is not well representing the family he came from in terms of attire or appearance at large. If you asked Harvey however, he’d say that he wouldn’t associate with those kinds of people anyways, and since he hasn’t been home since he was 13, this is entirely accurate.
In terms of biological configuration, Harvey was particularly blessed. He was given a fair face with soft, yet defined features, and eyes of the lightest blue one could imagine. He was given soft, long hair that is gold like the sun, which he wears in small spikes on the top of his head and as a long braid coming down off the back of his head, tied at the end with black string. There are a couple streaks of onyx on the top of his head, but this is negligible. His ears are slightly pointed, a genetic trait inherited from his father, and he wears two gold bands in the bottom each ear for amusement. His skin is a healthy white color, tanned enough to make a nice, almost beige tone, and no more. He’s of athletic build, and despite his numerous attempts to ‘bulk up’, his body has refused to change its muscular structure. He’s of the lighter set physically, but his skills disallow this as a basis to judge his combat prowess.
Harvey wears many different types of clothes, ranging from wife beaters and sweat pants to the deepest of gothic apparel. The outfit that Harvey is usually known for wearing however is a Battle Dress, custom made and given to him as a present by his parents. Its color overall is black with occasional gold embroidery, and the entirety of it is constructed in four parts: Shirt, Pants, Dress, and Add-ons.
The Shirt of the battle dress is a black, body-tight number with gold embroidery. The collar extends all the way up to the top of the neck, and there are no sleeves on the shirts due to functionality. The sides of his shirt are sewn together up and down the length of it with black thread, allowing him to tighten it or loosen it depending on his personal body preference. Coming down in front of the space between his legs is a long, rectangular sheet of cloth that is embroidered with gold elaborately in the forms of a flower and a dragon.
The Pants of the battle dress are not very remarkable, being plane black pants that, tightening with a draw string, serve only as covering and nothing more. Wrapped around the pants are usually several leather buckles that are black in color, but these are merely a matter of style. The Dress consists of a round metal girder that is attached like a belt around Harvey’s waist, and a long, flowing black cape that extends from it down around his lower form. The Add-ons are as follows: a pair of black and beige steel toed boots, a pair of long, thin gloves that extend from the tips of his fingers all the way to half above his bicep, a pair of buckles that he wears on the top of each of his biceps, several metal bangles around his wrists, and a couple of gold rings that he wears on his fingers. From the left side of his battle dress, Harvey wears his two swords, sheathed in beige pommels of identical make.
He is a striking figure, a beautiful one at that. He is usually very well groomed, and his outfits are always very stylish, regardless of whether in battledress or not. It is a shame, in reflection, that such a beautiful shell would end up housing such a bloodthirsty creature.
Personality: The only way to describe Harvey’s outward personality is utterly repulsive in every manner possible. He’s arrogant, intrusive, annoying, unwanted, occasionally ignorant, brash, hypocritical, condescending, a pathological liar, paranoid, hateful, and worse. The manner of his attitude and speech is almost archetypal; his manner of expression being such that it would seem that Harvey had no other emotions besides a deep seated hatred or disgust. This isn’t true – he’s runs the full gamut of human emotion – but the way he lives his life and projects his image to others, it would appear that there isn’t anything Harvey does not hate. He hates everyone, really, and the only reason he bothers being social in the first place is because it’s both necessary for existence and good practice for his intellect, opinions, and razor wit. When meeting new people, he tries as hard as he can to infuriate them, loving both verbal and physical fights to the extreme. He often interrupts others, and disregards people’s testimonies just because he decides it isn’t worth it to debate it.
He is often a dick simply for amusement, and has enough fight in his system to last several lifetimes. If there was something in his life that caused him to be so horrible, he isn’t telling, which suggests that it was either so horrible that he couldn’t speak of it or there wasn’t one at all. He has a chip on his shoulder as big as Texas, but as to what the chip actually is remains uncertain. The result in any case is that Harvey is easily offended and hard to please, and is very rarely impressed by tragedy. He fights as often and as much as he can, loving the feeling and the rush of confrontation, and will often pick fights simply for this.
Harvey finds it very hard to relate to most of the people he meets at Manga High, as a result having very little empathy with them and thus little camaraderie. He has no friends at school largely because of his attitude, but this suits him absolutely fine. As far as his virtues go, they’re few and far in between. He’s ridiculously intelligent, very world savvy and very cultured, and regardless of how much of a jerk Harvey is on a regular basis, he is the most honest and uninhibited person you will ever meet, bar none. If you want someone to tell you something how it is, Harvey is the one to go to. He’s entirely happy and satisfied being who he is, and there isn’t anything that will change that. Perfect self confidence in his mind is definitely worth being abhorred by everyone. Easygoing and somewhat laid back, Harvey enjoys both hedonism and self-destruction, indulging in both at every opportunity. He’s relatively charismatic and could probably get along very well with others if he just put any effort into it. However, he doesn’t, and in fact tries hard to repulse and infuriate others, and thus is so.
An interesting anomaly within Harvey’s social being has been noted on rare cases, which is that Harvey actually grows attached to the berating/criticism/idea of a person after conversing with him or her. Usually the feeling begins with amusement at the person’s response to Harvey’s blatant disrespect or at the other individual in general, and eventually crescendos into an almost loyal and parent-like relationship. Harvey looks after, is intrigued by, and protects an individual once they move into this stage, regardless of whether or not they want his attention or believe he’s actually being nice to them. Loyal to the end, Harvey can be the best friend one can have if given the chance. People are rarely given the chance, and thus the reason for this being so rare.
Harvey is also very interested in social justice related issues, in addition to being both very good with younger children and very kind and forgiving to those that he thinks no one likes or respects. He doesn’t feel like being an asshole all the time, and occasions can be quite friendly, but these are rare, rare occasions.
Special Power:
1) Reaver – Harvey carries two swords, but Reaver is the only one he ever removes from it’s sheath in combat, as the other one has been peace bonded to it’s sheath magically. Reaver is a good enough sword on its own however to make this loss negligible (at least, to Harvey’s knowledge). A scimitar of amazing craft, Reaver is a magical scimitar left to Harvey by the wishes of an unknown relative. It’s exceptionally light and sharp, and is amazingly durable considering how thin it is. However, its speed and sharpness only become apparently when Harvey or one of Harvey’s relatives wield the blade, becoming heavy and dull when others attempt the same.
2) Dart – This power gives Harvey to teleport quickly 8 feet in any direction. The process takes 3 seconds to perform normally, and Harvey is forced to wait for twice this before he can Dart again. Harvey must be able to see where he is darting to, and cannot Dart to a location that has something significant in his way (e.g. a wall, building, door, window, etc.). Non significant things would include animals, people, and plants (depending on how big the plant is of course).
History:
The Tale of Harvey Tomahawk is one that not many get to hear, and after hearing it, most that do end up spitting out whatever beverage they were drinking in total shock that such an outlandish story can be true. Harvey swears by it though, and Harvey’s word is very, very good. His journey through life has been an Odyssey of sorts – a random jumbling of adventures that are all connected merely by juxtaposition – and thus, is one of the most interesting, if unbelievable, tales you can tell.
The beginning of his life is the only part of his life that seems remotely normal. He was born to Quinn and Marie Tomahawk in the charming state of Oregon. Quinn was something of a combat prodigy, having mastered several different fighting styles of both unarmed and armed natures, and Marie was a columnist for the local newspaper. They had met when Quinn had, in a gratuitous use of Vigilante Justice, driven off a chapter of the Hell’s Angels besetting the town in which Marie worked. She was assigned to interview him, and it was love at first sight. Harvey was their first child, and although they had planned for more, this would be impossible while Harvey was still in the house. He demanded their full attention at all times, and was quite a strain on the young couple.
Harvey was a rambunctious tot from the get-go, enjoying competition and being a genuine hell raiser throughout most of his childhood. Although intelligent, Harvey seemed to neglect this brilliance for the pursuit of more barbarous and vicious forms of entertainment, such as picking fights with other kindergarteners and eating all of the cookies at snack time. He was a constant disciplinary problem all throughout his early years, and although he absorbed even the hardest concepts like a sponge, his arrogance and just plain cruelty was hard to control. In order to instill some discipline and self-restraint in the lad, Quinn not only home schooled his child with crushing curriculum from 1st grade on, but made him learn and practice several different rigorous disciplines of fighting. However, all this seemed to do was make a very intelligent fighting machine with a taste for cruelty, and Quinn was at a loss. However, one day, an answer was presented to him.
While walking along the beach in Washington by his lonesome, Quinn spied a crashed cargo ship sailing towards the coast from Korea. It was a merchant ship from south Korea carrying an assortment of oddities to research and/or put in museums in Washington. It had lost its bearings somewhere in between, and the boat had hit the shallows and sunk a couple hundred feet out from the beach. It made it difficult to reach, but not impossible. Quinn swam out to check for survivors, but found none. He did however find several boxes that were of specific importance. In one was the Battle Dress that he would later give to his son as a birthday present, and a pair of swords. One was the Reaver, which with enough tampering would be given to his Son as a present, but he was unable to get the other one out of its casing. The symbols on the scabbard told that the sword was peace bonded there magically, and that only the quickest could pull it from its scabbard. Quinn found it impossible, but he decided that was because he was not the quickest, and instead presented the whole mess to his son as a present.
The son relished Reaver and the battle dress, but when he was told that he could not unsheathe the second sword because he was not the quickest, Harvey was furious. He decided right at that moment to set out into the world, training himself and improving his prowess. Of course, Harvey was only 13 at the time, so his father went with him. They traveled all over, Quinn and Harvey adventuring around like a pair of superheroes by defending the weak, toppling the unjust, and protecting the American Way of life from any outside harm. There were many adventures in this point of life, most of which being bizarre and unusual, and thus whenever Harvey tells them he gets something of an odd glance. It would take forever to tell them all in order, as the entire ordeal takes 3 years, so I’ll leave those stories for later. Harvey could not be home schooled forever though. Although Quinn’s knowledge of literature, history, and psychology was immense, his math skills were very little, and as such so were his son’s. In order to function in the real world, Harvey would be forced to go to high school.
In their journeys however, the solution to this became obvious quickly. While walking through a town that they hadn’t been able to find the name of on the map they had with them, Harvey spied an add hanging in the window of a barbershop. It advertised a special kind of school, known as Manga High school, where those with above average skills can come to live and master their abilities. The curriculum also included Math, which sold Quinn Tomahawk on the idea instantly. Within the week, Harvey was on the way to Manga High School, and with it, a new chance to increase his prowess.
Relationships
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Mortal Enemy:
Hates:
Dislikes:
Friends:
Good Friends:
Family:
Likes:
Dating:
EXAMPLE ROLE-PLAYING POST:
It was Saturday, and the fact that Roan was stuck in the dank confines of the Zombie's Nightmare was not lost on him. He leaned on the counter behind the cash register, his mind completely devoid of any ways to improve the store in any way. There had to be something wrong with it, as there was no teen in the store buying some kind of merchandise. Or at least, this was Jeffery Darkness, his supervisor's logic (his name was actually Jeffery Schrader, but he was the type of person that would hiss at you were you to say his last name, followed eventually by him ordering you to use the proper and morbid surname of Darkness instead) on the matter.
Roan looked over the walls of goods with a cursory eye or two, his eyes traveling over racks of records, CDs, and all sorts of little types of memorabilia from shows and movies that all had their cult followings in some way or another. Backpacks, incense, wrist bands, and all manner of alternative clothing. There were posters all over the place for bands that were undoubtedly not the popular groups around Japan at that time, and several different kinds of beach towel. The Zombie’s nightmare also had comics, of course, as well as several different types of “alternative” manga and anime that would not usually be found in normal Manga stores due to their content and/or manga-ka’s. Shoes, gift cards, piercing, glow sticks, patches, pins, all sorts of odds and ends that might possibly be useful to someone at some point in time.
To Roan (who had first seen the store on the walk to the Hinata from the airport), the place was a heaven, a home for all the culture and tastes that had loved but had never had enough time to be exposed to while he was in High School. Now that he worked here, the store was an oasis to him. A spiritual refuge where he could be who he was without the cautious and skeptical eyes of others. It wasn’t angst, but it was something like it.
Deciding that idle speculation was not the fare of the day, Roan decided to put some music on. As he reached under the counter, he found a couple of CD’s that were some of his favorites at the time, and put one in. Hefner. Good band from the UK. It was in English, but it wasn’t like there was anyone in the store to complain about the foreign language. It had happened before when some snobby teenager decided to give Roan his opinion on the whole store’s concept, but he doubted it would happen today. He rubbed his jeans to keep his hands busy while the music started, straightening his t-shirt should anyone come in. It was a yellow Tee from some disco hall back in the states that had long since closed, but it made him feel good to wear it anyways. Black converse low tops, as per usual. The song, Hello Kitty, was one of the better songs he had heard lately, and as he listened, he decided on a lark to do some lip-syncing. He danced around the Zombie’s Nightmare, singing into a rolled up poster as he looked for something to do. After a couple minutes of this fun however, he decided that it was a good day outside, and he would be damned if he spent it rotting amongst the music magazines. He found himself a pair of sunglasses and a beach chair which he had stored for just such an occasion. With the song blaring as loud as he could, he walked out to sidewalk in front of the store. He propped the door open so he could still hear the CD in the background as he set the chair up. He laid in it, sprawled, enjoying the sunlight as he waited for a customer to come his way. He really hoped one did too; he hated feeling like he was wasting any time.
"Dare to think for yourself."
-Voltaire
The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste... Edited by: Touching Tomorrow at: 7/22/06 8:58 pm
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