Name: Cole Sertine
Species: Deer Anthro
Appearance: The Deer-Anthro stands at 5' 9" with amber fur along his whole body. There are scattered black spots along his back and arms that resemble freckles, and he has light green eyes. His chest and belly are white, and that color traces to the underside of his tail. Cole has medium sized antlers; each have a wavey Y-shape with smaller points along the splits. He wears an atlantis colored oxford with rolled up past his elbows which are tucked into his tight black skinny jeans. His pants are held up by a seatbelt belt with composed music notes on it. Cole's shoes are a fuschia and dove grey plaid that lace up. He has a tree tattooed on his right forearm.
Personality: ISFP - He lives in the world of sensation possibilities. He is keenly in tune with the way things look, taste, sound, feel and smell. He tends to be quiet and reserved, and difficult to get to know well. Cole has a true appreciation for the beauties of nature and is action-oriented. He is extremely perceptive and aware of others, but does not give himself enough credit for the things he does well. Cole has no desire to lead or control others.
Strengths/Powers: Cole is an artist and loves to draw. He enjoys reading and science. Due to an accident in Chemistry class in high school, He has the ability to create duplicates of himself (similar to the Pokemon move Double Team) and can run really fast. However, since Cole is incredibly passive before moving to Reverie, he didn't run and doesn't know that he has these powers.
Weaknesses: Algophobia (fear of pain), Agraphobia (sexual abuse), Cryophobia (extreme cold/ice/frost)
History (3-5 Sentences+): Cole grew up knowing nothing but himself. He made no friends, has had no lovers, but interacted with people on a daily basis at school. His teachers ignored him, as he blended into the student body. Just another number with an average grade score that they desire. When he graduated high school, he went to work at a local bakery. He worked in the back, and never saw another person besides Molli. Molli had attempted to make friends with Cole, but was met with an ice cold shoulder. She slowly took down Cole's walls, board by board. After six months working in the bakery, they could talk about current events and the weather. By twelve, she had invited him to several parties. He refused all of them. Fourteen months went by and he shared his interest in art. After two and a half years, she had gotten to see the inside of his apartment, his sketchbook, and his mind. Molli was the only friend that Cole had made. When they had just established an on going moirailance, Molli came down with acute bone cancer. Her body succumbing to the disease quickly, proving that she could not handle a marrow transplant even if they found a match. Everyday, Cole visited her bedside in the hospital room 302. He held her hand and told her what was going on in the bakery and the world around them. Everyday when he saw her, Molli had a smile on her face. Cole often drew that smile of hers, and taped the drawings on the hospital room walls. He drew her flowers, trees, insects, and birds. Anything that resembled a forest or nature brought her right at home. He fell for her. But she was indeed dying.
Her funeral was plesant, but not extravagent. Just immediate family and him. He cried.
After her death, he built his walls again. Board by board. He didn't want to get hurt. Not like that. He left his apartment behind. All the memories of Molli and the life he'd known were to be left behind as well. Cole was off to Reverie. A city in the sky.
RP Sample (3-5 Sentences+): "So this is the city that Molli always talked about." He muttered to himself. Cole glanced up at the floating rock. His friend had been talking about moving here while she was in the hospital. She expressed great interest in a new life and town that spread joy and happiness. She had been wrong. The steel doors slammed shut behind him as he stood on the black pavement littered with trash and cigarettes, with a dark purple duffle bag in his hand. This place felt dirty. No, it was dirty. Cole shuffled up to the guard's gate and asked to be pointed in the direction of his new living facility. Clasping the slightly rusted key with the numbers etched 302 on it, he walked. "A fresh beginning." He whispered, as he made his way home.