Mobley Eats
Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
Basic
Name - Anton Jubali Sheerloft
Age - 17
Birthday - February 12, 1998
Gender - Male
Sexuality - Demisexual
Power - Sand/Glass
Occupation - Student, Junior
School Information
Room Number - 5, Boys Dorm
Year - Junior
House - Aer
Electives - Sword Fighting and Hand-to-Hand Combat
Clubs - Book Club, Member
Sports - None
Appearance
Hair - Dark hair cut into a medium fade.
Eyes - His eyes are a sad and dark hue of chocolate.
Body - He stands at a height of 6'0" and weighing approximately 175 lbs. He has a fairly muscular build and carries himself with a carefree yet smooth gait.
Complexion - Dark skin tone
Dress - For his uniform, Anton tends to be quite loose. The top two buttons of his undershirt are always unbuttoned, with his silver tie loosened. His blazer is completely unbuttoned (unless a teacher catches him...then he's gotta button up, which is no fun). Underneath his khakis, his socks are either black or white; either way, they fade from attention whenever he dawns his precious sandals, which are black, old, and have duct tape holding the heels in place. He refuses to wear any other footwear unless the circumstances truly, seriously beckons for it. In casual clothing, he's usually sporting a simple white t-shirt and beige shorts or a long-sleeve sweater with a low-hanging v-neck and fitting blue jeans.
Extra - Anton is slathered in tattoos. A sleeve of floral designs decorate his right arm from shoulder to elbow, several personal quotes splayed across his pectorals, the phrase "reflect before you deflect" across his upper back, and a tribal sun on his left shoulder. From time to time, he proudly displays his ox-piercing alongside his ear studs, but understands that the tattoos can be off-putting on their own and tends to keep them off.
Persona
Personality - Anton believes in one thing and one thing only--to go with the flow and shine with your unique light in the process. He is eccentric, outspoken, and always itching to socialize with whoever has the patience to listen to his constant chatter. By no means is he a gossip or rumor spreader, but Anton always finds himself in that awkward position of being everyone's "Dirty Secret Closet". So it would always end up with him caught in the middle of two people's drama, watching them go back and forth helplessly like an intense tennis match. The only method he has for dismantling arguments is to scream out "Party Trick!" and start playing the Cup Song...The success rate is 50/50. Outside of his unfortunate magnetism for petty drama, Anton also has a series of ticks that result in some form of light skin mutilation. They can range from picking at his forearm until scratches appear on Monday to biting off the sensitive edges of his thumb on Friday. They're all unconscious and annoying habits that Anton does his best to hide.
Despite his bubbly personality, Anton hits his low moments every now and then. He'd rather jump into a tar pit than to place his emotional burdens onto others; thus in those times, he will excuse himself for a day or two and recuperate in isolation. Once he returns, he pretends as if he never disappeared to begin with and keeps it moving.
Likes - Making others laugh, body art, socializing, Diet Iced Peach/Green Tea, Sweet Tea, sweets, emotional bonding, earning other's trust, cats and dogs, forensic science and deduction (he'll binge Forensic Files like it's nobody's business)
Dislikes - Asparagus (it makes your pee smell weird...), heights, manipulating others/lying, drama taken a tad too far, frogs and lizards, hot weather, dark chocolate, stress
Hobbies - Hanging out with friends, watching Stand Up comedians, pretending that everyone is involved in some sort of conspiracy and narrating their criminal lifestyles in a horrid accent (don't ask him what nationality because he has no freaking idea), drawing little pictures on his skin with temporary marker
Strengths - Adaptable, a team player, innovative-thinker, agile and fast, good with clues and deduction
Weakness - Has a history of stress-induced seizures, gullible, grows attached to someone far too quickly, overly curious, passive to a fault, easily distracted
Fears - Abandonment, loneliness, never reaching self-actualization, seizing at the worst possible moment
Ambition - As much as this petrifies Anton, he has no real ambitions in life besides surviving the turmoil brought on by war. As long as he lives a happy life and watches his loved ones grow into the wonderful people they're destined to be, he can't fathom asking for anything more.
History
Anton's life was rather taxing.
The Sheerlofts had taken root along the eastern coast, jumping from city to city as the generations passed and their business evolved, which was the cultivating of clay minerals to create and sell ceramics. An artistic flare was tantamount to the Sheerloft name, on top of learning the ins and outs of how to find the clay they needed in abundance. No season, no stray storm forecast, no rising of the tides was ignored if one wished to pinpoint a bed of rich sediment on the Pacific coast. Children of the Sheerloft family are traditionally given the option of whether to enhance their eye for design or hone their intuition for clay hunting--there was never an alternative.
Thus, Anton believed himself to share an affinity for clay hunting, as he always loved the sensation of his bare feet sifting through the sand, as if he was gliding effortlessly on air. The tangy taste of sea salt in the hair, the crisp breeze dancing off the shore, the gorgeous blend of colors and hues as it stained the setting horizon--he loved all of it. However, Anton was disheartened and discouraged upon realizing his troubles with learning the ways of clay hunting. With each new beach his family explored, the more confused he became. A sudden change of scenery, a wrench thrown into the learning process. He found himself trapped in a perpetual loop of playing Catch Up. Finally, at the age of 9, he asked his parents to move him to the design department of their family business. The request was unexpected and his parents warned him that he'd be diving headfirst into advanced territory with absolutely no training in his arsenal. Anton understood these consequences and accepted them for what they were.
Unfortunately, this department proved to be far more frustrating than clay hunting. No matter how majestic his mind's eye envisioned a design, his hands couldn't breathe life to the image. His ceramic pieces were pathetic and sad in their design, the dips and glazes always a dull, ugly mess. The impatience had spread throughout his family, resulting in Anton falling to the bottom of the latter and lurking within his siblings' shadows. He was caught in limbo for a few months and often avoided work altogether to roam the beach on bare feet, hoping to distance himself from the awful stress and pressure. On one of those occasions, he had stumbled upon a cave a few miles away from home and deemed it his personal sanctuary. The inflow was tame and slow, which softened the sand into something pleasant and malleable. It was quiet, filled with a gentle ambiance of waters wading and distant seagulls flapping. However, when Anton grew curious and ventured deeper into the cave, the sand underneath him caved and he began to sink. The child was certain that he would suffocating in a prison of wet sand, over for solidified blocks to form at his hands and feet. He had quickly climbed his way out, eyes wide and shocked at the phenomenon.
He ran home and refused to tell a soul about the experience.
Anton spent the next handful of months secretly honing his elemental abilities on the beach, all while dealing with the stress of his family business. The combined workload proved to be negative for his health, as he had underwent a seizure in the middle of ceramic glazing and was rushed to medical aid. It was suggested that he must avoid the pressures of the Sheerloft business. In the end, Anton's condition was both a curse and blessing. No longer forced to craft ceramics, he devoted nearly all of his time to manipulating sand and exploring his skills, all while understanding how much stress his body could handle before the warning signs kicked in. He had unveiled his abilities to his family, whose reactions were a mixture of awe and indifference. Up until the age of 14, Anton had a firm grasp of sand manipulation, often inventing new and creative ways to apply his findings (such as helping his family find clay pits every once in a while), on top of dallying in the dimensions of glass.
Nonetheless, whatever plans he had afterwards were shattered when the war began.
Moving from city to city was no longer a safe option. Any customer interest in fine ceramics and porcelain were tossed into the back burner as fear and conflict blistered to staggering heights. The Sheerloft business, after generations of flourish, was squandered like an ant beneath the heel of a boot. Finances were initially stable, as the family had a hefty sum left in their savings from their lucrative profits, but it soon waned and left them in a desperate abyss. When Anton turned 16, one, and only thing good thing came out of this misery--it forced the Sheerlofts to view the world through fresh lenses and appreciate one another. Like a real family. Slowly, but ever so surely, Anton's family began to sympathize and care for him; it was because of this change that he finally felt secure enough to admit that he felt useless. As if he had no real purpose in life.
They all encouraged him to transfer to Celsius Academy. Anton still had no real goal in mind, but his family had hopes that this new chapter in his life would place him on the right path towards something meaningful. Of course, acceptance would be difficult and expensive to obtain, but the Sheerlofts had taken a huge chunk out of their remaining funds to help. Fortunately, Anton got into Celsius Academy, the lingering prestige of the Sheerloft name in the business world playing a huge role in it. As a parting gift and congratulations, Anton's father gave him his luck clay hunting sandals. His father rarely wore them unless he was in frantic need of finding a clay pit, which they had never failed to do for him in the past. However, with the business no longer active and Anton moving on the Celsius Academy, he believed the sandals were better off in Anton's possession. The teen had accepted them gratefully and promised to think of his family every time he wore them.
He arrived to Celsius Academy with a burning passion. A fresh start. A new look. A new him. A time to figure out what he truly wanted out of life. But, for now, he was--is--certain of one thing.
He and his loved ones will survive this war.
The Sheerlofts had taken root along the eastern coast, jumping from city to city as the generations passed and their business evolved, which was the cultivating of clay minerals to create and sell ceramics. An artistic flare was tantamount to the Sheerloft name, on top of learning the ins and outs of how to find the clay they needed in abundance. No season, no stray storm forecast, no rising of the tides was ignored if one wished to pinpoint a bed of rich sediment on the Pacific coast. Children of the Sheerloft family are traditionally given the option of whether to enhance their eye for design or hone their intuition for clay hunting--there was never an alternative.
Thus, Anton believed himself to share an affinity for clay hunting, as he always loved the sensation of his bare feet sifting through the sand, as if he was gliding effortlessly on air. The tangy taste of sea salt in the hair, the crisp breeze dancing off the shore, the gorgeous blend of colors and hues as it stained the setting horizon--he loved all of it. However, Anton was disheartened and discouraged upon realizing his troubles with learning the ways of clay hunting. With each new beach his family explored, the more confused he became. A sudden change of scenery, a wrench thrown into the learning process. He found himself trapped in a perpetual loop of playing Catch Up. Finally, at the age of 9, he asked his parents to move him to the design department of their family business. The request was unexpected and his parents warned him that he'd be diving headfirst into advanced territory with absolutely no training in his arsenal. Anton understood these consequences and accepted them for what they were.
Unfortunately, this department proved to be far more frustrating than clay hunting. No matter how majestic his mind's eye envisioned a design, his hands couldn't breathe life to the image. His ceramic pieces were pathetic and sad in their design, the dips and glazes always a dull, ugly mess. The impatience had spread throughout his family, resulting in Anton falling to the bottom of the latter and lurking within his siblings' shadows. He was caught in limbo for a few months and often avoided work altogether to roam the beach on bare feet, hoping to distance himself from the awful stress and pressure. On one of those occasions, he had stumbled upon a cave a few miles away from home and deemed it his personal sanctuary. The inflow was tame and slow, which softened the sand into something pleasant and malleable. It was quiet, filled with a gentle ambiance of waters wading and distant seagulls flapping. However, when Anton grew curious and ventured deeper into the cave, the sand underneath him caved and he began to sink. The child was certain that he would suffocating in a prison of wet sand, over for solidified blocks to form at his hands and feet. He had quickly climbed his way out, eyes wide and shocked at the phenomenon.
He ran home and refused to tell a soul about the experience.
Anton spent the next handful of months secretly honing his elemental abilities on the beach, all while dealing with the stress of his family business. The combined workload proved to be negative for his health, as he had underwent a seizure in the middle of ceramic glazing and was rushed to medical aid. It was suggested that he must avoid the pressures of the Sheerloft business. In the end, Anton's condition was both a curse and blessing. No longer forced to craft ceramics, he devoted nearly all of his time to manipulating sand and exploring his skills, all while understanding how much stress his body could handle before the warning signs kicked in. He had unveiled his abilities to his family, whose reactions were a mixture of awe and indifference. Up until the age of 14, Anton had a firm grasp of sand manipulation, often inventing new and creative ways to apply his findings (such as helping his family find clay pits every once in a while), on top of dallying in the dimensions of glass.
Nonetheless, whatever plans he had afterwards were shattered when the war began.
Moving from city to city was no longer a safe option. Any customer interest in fine ceramics and porcelain were tossed into the back burner as fear and conflict blistered to staggering heights. The Sheerloft business, after generations of flourish, was squandered like an ant beneath the heel of a boot. Finances were initially stable, as the family had a hefty sum left in their savings from their lucrative profits, but it soon waned and left them in a desperate abyss. When Anton turned 16, one, and only thing good thing came out of this misery--it forced the Sheerlofts to view the world through fresh lenses and appreciate one another. Like a real family. Slowly, but ever so surely, Anton's family began to sympathize and care for him; it was because of this change that he finally felt secure enough to admit that he felt useless. As if he had no real purpose in life.
They all encouraged him to transfer to Celsius Academy. Anton still had no real goal in mind, but his family had hopes that this new chapter in his life would place him on the right path towards something meaningful. Of course, acceptance would be difficult and expensive to obtain, but the Sheerlofts had taken a huge chunk out of their remaining funds to help. Fortunately, Anton got into Celsius Academy, the lingering prestige of the Sheerloft name in the business world playing a huge role in it. As a parting gift and congratulations, Anton's father gave him his luck clay hunting sandals. His father rarely wore them unless he was in frantic need of finding a clay pit, which they had never failed to do for him in the past. However, with the business no longer active and Anton moving on the Celsius Academy, he believed the sandals were better off in Anton's possession. The teen had accepted them gratefully and promised to think of his family every time he wore them.
He arrived to Celsius Academy with a burning passion. A fresh start. A new look. A new him. A time to figure out what he truly wanted out of life. But, for now, he was--is--certain of one thing.
He and his loved ones will survive this war.
Theme Song - "Four" by Sleeping At Last