[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]Name:
None yet, as he is still (technically) learning in the
education department, unofficially a space-time traveller, adopting the role of a ‘time agent’.Status:
Currently a student attending Conovare Secondary College, Western Australia. Financially balanced, family has a stable income and well over the poverty line.Hair:
Jet black, glimmers slightly brown when under a light source, unkempt and medium-cut.Eyes:
Average body width-to-height ratio, no real visible muscle
build but not skinny nor overweight.Clothing:
A generic T-shirt of any monochrome colour ranging from black, blue, red, and grey, and a male's double-breasted black denim jacket with white lining on each of the creases (For example, around the edges of the seams where the jacket joins up on the sides of the arms. Can also wear a plain Kahki jacket with pockets on the inside (yay) and four buttons down the middle. Either wears black tracksuit pants or black drainpipe trousers/jeans with regular runners/sneakers.::Info::Family:
James Martis (Father, deceased), Ava Martis (Mother, alive).Personality:
Rhydian is a very cool, calculating person who shows
little stress. Not necessarily 'cold and calculating', but 'cool and
calculating', as he does show compassion and sympathy when
appropriate. He just has a little trouble conveying his emotions to
other people, and this has lead to assumptions about him and relating
him to sociopathy of some sort.
Rhydian seems to always have a sensible aspect to everything he does. He's not quite 'this needs to be done like this, and perfectly', but
it's certainly not charismatic either. He has an important feel to
him, as if he's always got something to do, and something that needs
to be done ASAP. If he is presented with a task, then he'll complete
it with little-to-no distractions, yet not obsess over it like someone
who has a disorder.
Rhydian never visibly shows his emotional state, which has concerned
some of his family and friends to a degree. He does have regular
emotions and feels them all too well, sure. He has just got a knack of
hiding them, and hiding them with true skill. So you know when something makes Rhydian snap, he's emotionally compromised to the extent that he may not be able to think properly.
Rhydian has an off-beat vibe in speech as just being there. By
off-beat, I mean he has a disconcerting presence whenever he joins
conversation. Something you can't put your finger on, but you know
whatever feeling that was in the room previously was gone. Whether it
was replaced with something good or bad, or removed entirely, you just know it's gone. Rhydian doesn't do it on purpose, and doesn't notice it 90% of the time.
He is more than happy to protect the innocent and do justice to
whatever situation he happens to be in. He'd be more than willing to sacrifice his life for the sake of others, as well.
He always had a really good irk for adventure and exploration, and then again, everyone in the town of Conovare did. Sometimes his love of the thrill adventure proposed to him got him into trouble. Actually, most of the time it did. If there was one thing he would retain out of all his strengths, it would be his independence and the ability to rely on himself and his trusty devices for extended periods of time.Strengths:
Can conceal his emotions when necessary, has a knack for
building things out of seemingly useless and/or unrelated objects, has
some objects of high technology.Weakness:
Can't express emotion well (when the time calls), regularly fight aliens of a higher strength/knowledge calibre compared to humans, so has a physical disadvantage, slight knowledge disadvantage depending on the location/time period he is in.Likes:
Building and tinkering with objects whenever he can, pizza
(generic, I know, but it's generic because a lot of people like it),
engineering challenges which are time consuming.Dislikes:
Pretentiousness in anyone, constant bickering, disruption of concentration (seriously, that can get on his nerves).Dream:
Rhydian dreams of taking the role his father took, yet at such a young age, he still strives to complete what his father never got to.History:
Rhydian was born on the third of September, 1999, in a rural town called Conovare, slap-bang in the middle of the heated deserts of Western Australia. Conovare was as small as towns went, with a population of a little under three thousand people, just enough to sustain the foundations of the community. Rhydian was, up until age seven, an innocent child that didn’t know the meaning of struggle or torment.
That all changed when he was hit with an emotional and mental shockwave that would stick with him for the rest of his life. When he was just seven years old, his father died - a murder, in their own home town, with seemingly no hope of catching the culprit. This was the epicenter of his phase of emotional recoil. In time, he started to shield himself from reality and in doing so hid his emotions under a veil of apathy and unresponsiveness, concealing them from everyone he knew. It felt like the instinctual thing for him to do. Years of isolating himself on his own accord had shaped him into something else, something where if his father hadn't died, he may have turned out to be someone else. Seclusion became a daily occurrence for years, and his life was terribly bland - he barely showed a lick of emotion, driven by the fact that he was tormented by his father’s untimely death.
When he reached middle school (roughly thirteen), Rhydian had copped his fair share of teasing and abuse from classmates for being 'different', but however never even reacted when verbally abused. His emotions never seemed to bottle up - of course, this was unrealistic. Rhydian was just too hurt and too stubborn to acknowledge the feelings that were meant to be freed.
One afternoon, he received a very mysterious package in the mail which was marked for him. Upon opening it he found a plain silver box under it about the size of two palms. Upon opening it, he found a spanner of some sort, coloured red and blue and white.
Rhydian didn't have time to drop the box before a large electrical crack burst through the room and, apart from some residual chrono-electrical residue, Rhydian had vanished without a trace.
Rhydian had arrived in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar building. When he looked out the window, he was met with one of the most astounding, mind-boggling sights he’d ever see: the outside of an orbital station circling the Earth, five thousand years into the future. How was this possible? Millions of thoughts were racing through his brain, until someone came through the door.
That certain someone was his father.
Rhydian was in denial for a proper moment. All of this dropped on one thirteen year old boy at one time was too much for him. Why was his father here? His father was dead, he saw the newspapers, he remembered what the police said to him, what the therapists said to him, and he knew that there was no going back from being deceased. So how in the world was his father standing in front of him?
In the face of this, Rhydian did the only thing he could: run into his father’s arms and cry his eyes out like he hadn’t since the day his father died.
After Rhydian had calmed down, his father explained that he’d been transported thousands of years into the future - to the 51st Century, to be exact. He also explained that he knew about his own death years before it happened. Rhydian asked how, and his dad explained the nature of time travel.
Rhydian was captured by the prospect. Then, like a gift from above, his father handed him the box with the spanner inside it that was dropped on before and forgotten. He told Rhydian that the spanner was a Multi-Spanner, a vortex manipulator capable of traversing time itself. He said that it was his gift to him, and that he should use it wisely.
This was Rhydian's chance. A chance of one in a million, to fulfil his father's work that was never accomplished. A chance to see the universe in its wonderful splendor. To protect everything he lived for.
Rhydian, since then, has been travelling the universe and doing the job his father'd left behind as an unofficial Time Agent.HOW DID YOU FIND US?:
I was bored, my usual role-play website was
inactive, wanted a little more activity, searched up 'Doctor Who
roleplay' on Google and this was one of the first results. Beautiful website, by the way, you guys have really outdone yourself! How have I not stumbled acrosj-THE ROLEPLAY BIT-
Rhydian was starting to sweat. His calm emotionless complex was starting to falter. He and the Doctor were standing under two streetlights, on opposite sides of the street. Why would this simple predicament of crossing the street be so stressful for Rhydian?
Mostly because the streetlamps were the only barriers keeping the two from being ruthlessly devoured by the Vashta Nerada, which were currently encircling their safe-havens of their light sources.
And the Doctor's one was flickering, and getting dimmer faster.
And the only thing he had in his backpack were unrelated, frivolous objects (aside from the screwdriver).
This wasn't the time for dilly-dallying. The Doctor's lifespan was shortening the longer he stood here doing nothing. Quickly, he concentrated, trying to shut out the thoughts of impending doom that was lurking faster on both him and the renowned Time Lord.
Luckily, years of restraining his emotions and burying them deep in the corners of his mind paid off, and he proceeded with his plan with haste. Grabbing the sonic screwdriver and the raincoat, he made it clear to the Doctor across the street that he had a plan. And what an amazing plan it was.
Rhydian activated the long silver tube, buzzing in a low-pitched tone. The raincoat slowly heated up and started to melt, molten plastic dripping on the concrete below. The smell was terrible, yet he persisted. Shuffling through his backpack, Rhydian brought out the torch and sealed it to the melted plastic, and blew on it to cool it down, which it did very quickly. He turned the torch on, then motioned to the Doctor.
"Doctor, don't catch this, I'm aiming for the street lamp!" Rhydian exclaimed.
Rhydian swung the raincoat/torch object around his arm, making it gather energy. Once it reached the top speed he could manage it to, Rhydian let it go out of his hand, hoping for the perfect throw and the perfect landing.
There was a period when the raincoat-binded torch swung freely in the air, making its way to its destination, where time seemed to stop. Time sped up again when it hit dead-on the horizontal pole of the streetlamp, the raincoat wrapping around like a lasso. The torch hung from the pole and all the Doctor had to do was tap the torch in the desired direction, which was in front of him, creating a barrier of light across the street.
Rhydian hoped he would make it in time, as his street lamp was starting to falter too.