Oliver Van Sydney doesn't have a custom title currently.
Born: No Information
Cbox Name: Meghan
Character Directory Link: http://clockworkrpg.com/index.php?act=ST&f=42&t=1639&st=0#entry8114
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Joined: 5-January 12
Last Seen: Dec 2 2012, 02:08 AM
Local Time: Jan 30 2015, 06:43 PM
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Jan 17 2012, 06:05 AM
" In search of enthusiastic, energetic individual to watch over child.
No house maintenance needed, only a close eye and experience. It is suggested that you take the ward for an hour walk in the morning and a two hour one after lunch but sometime before supper.
No cooking skills necessary.
Send all inquiries to a mister Nikolai Ducakis at flat 221 C Dunley Heights."
Jan 16 2012, 08:17 PM
There was a reason Oliver wandered. It provided his mind with distraction. Stagnacy resulted in contemplation, and contemplation resulted in emotions that he often easily avoided. Anxiety, depression, and fear.
He was naturally cheerful, when he left the apartment he found positive ways to occupy his time. He took to the streets and found other children to play with. They kicked cans and balls and invented games. Oliver learned things from them. He watched them with their parents, and sometimes even experienced the cruelty and generosity of other children. His mind was maturing as theirs did, but his body was not.
The weather was poor today...It was a mist that resulted in damp buildings and a dirty fog that engulfed Dunley, as well as his mind.
Oliver's chin rested upon his folded arms as he sat at the window sill, staring down below. A man and woman passed, the pair giggling as they made an effort to share a small, broken umbrella. Oliver was reaching the point in his life (if you could call it that) where he was very much a sponge. He was curious, questioning, and began to grow concerned for the future. Oliver was still a naive child, but his mind was growing enough to allow him to even begin to consider what might become of him.
Jan 13 2012, 03:14 AM
Oliver was a genuinly good child. Unlike many who were his physical age, his antics never became malicious. He himself liked to think he was a perfectly good citizen and that he never got into trouble. Instead, he liked to claim that trouble found him...and it often did.
The dangerous mix of his curiosity an poor memory often led to bad situations. The bazaar was often one of the worst places for him to be. It was filled with exotic people, food, and objects. Of course, Oliver had no money to actually buy any of it. To him, however, it was a wealth of knowledge that made it worth coming. He was enthralled with watching men and women haggle with dealers in different accents and languages. He saw artisans deeply involved with their work, and some were even kind enough to allow him to sit and watch for awhile. His favorite was an old weaving woman down the way, who humored him for nearly an hour while he waited for Nikolai to finish with his shopping.
Nikolai wasn't here, though. Oliver had come here by himself. There was no one there to stop him as he stood over the heap of polished scraps. He picked up a large, detailed sprocket...and then there was a holler as an old man several booths away played a song for his dancing, mechanical monkey. Immediately distracted, Oliver left the booth and hurried to the noise. A crowd had already formed, and he was so involved with trying to see through the mass that he did not hear the cry of 'theif!'.
The scrap dealer made such a show of it, though, that almost the entire crowd turned away from the dancing beast and looked about themselves, even Oliver. The distressed man gestured in his direction, but he had long since forgotten the metal in his hand..so, he appeared just as baffled as those around him.
Jan 5 2012, 07:37 PM
A naive, cheerful revenant with the face of a sixteen year old and a poor short term memory. His curiosity often results in him getting a bit lost on the streets of Tot.
Jan 5 2012, 04:14 AM
Meg | PM. [[ aim: sasorichanmd]] [[msn: email@example.com]]
Oliver Van Sydney[ Guild Affiliation(s) ]
Male | Revenant | 45+ | Child | No Magical Ability
YOU QUIRKY BASTARD
Oliver is…well, like any other child, he can be difficult. ..which is odd to say because his physical form as existed far longer than that of the average preteen.
Naturally curious, naïve, and dangerously ignorant of the world’s evils, Oliver is too brave to wander the streets of Tottenham by his lonesome. Lacking a natural amount of self-restraint, he speaks and acts based on infantile desires. His face betrays all of his emotions, and his physical prowess enables him in fulfilling his curiosities. He is often easily distracted, taking joy in simple things. Unfortunately, in contribution to his self-satisfying nature, he also has poor short term memory. It is debatable as to what caused this. The permanent scar and bruising beneath his hair might suggest it was due to the injury, or that the necromancer who originally revived him failed to address the issue . Either way, the combination of his curiosity and memory often results in scenarios that might put him in danger.
This isn’t all to say that Oliver is helpless. In fact, he acts and does things that reflect independence. He does well in taking care for himself, cleans, and assumes some responsibility.
SHADY, POMPOUS, OR OTHERWISE
Oliver stands at 5’7, with the body of a young athlete. He is thin, but lithe with unpronounced, yet strong muscles. His face is round and doll like, with large, doe-like eyes, a small, upturned button nose and wide mouth. His expression is rarely melancholy, and despite his eyes being so dark they are often filled with life that should have left him years ago.
His hair is just as black as his irises, and is a mess of uncontrollable, boyish curls. Often, they are somewhat stuffed into some sort of page boy’s cap. The rest of his attire is just as casual as his hats. Often he is found in loose, buttoned shirts with rolled up sleeves. Sometimes his guardian can manage to get him into suspenders and stocking garters with a pair of nice, leather shoes. Oliver, though, dresses for comfort and mobility, rather than with the intent to impress.
A final note on the signs of his death. Oliver's bruises are large, and run along his spine and spot the back of his arms. Beneath his hairline is bruising and a large scar.
WHEN MOMMY BEAT YOU OVER YOUR HEAD
Oliver’s life ended when he was in his mid teens. His exact time of death is unknown, since there is no documentation of it. He was a parentless youth, adopted by a tight knit group of performers. He was a talented contortionist and acrobat, and well loved and a favorite to those who often witnessed their acts.
His demise began with an accident where there was an accident with the high flying equipment. His partner failed to catch him, and Oliver plummeted. He landed in the net below, but it snapped. He did not die from the accident because the net had slowed his descent. Oliver’s body, however, was badly broken. He had no feeling in his legs, had numerous broken bones, and a severe head injury. Through less than moral circumstances, Oliver was put out of his misery quickly with a crowbar, and his body was sold…the profit of his death supporting the financially poor performers.
His broken body was bought by a necromancer, who used the corpse to fulfill a peculiar commission from a client. Again, Oliver’s body was sold for less than moral circumstances. Illegally created and ‘owned’, his purpose was to help his master indulge in certain fetishes. His commissioner grew old and passed from this world, though. With no one to wind him, his body ceased to function. Body still flexible, he was packed into a small box and forgotten. The home of his owner was boarded up and nearly forgotten due to inconsistencies in his will.
Despite being safely packed away, his body began to decompose and his mechanics began to atrophy. He remained in the dark, damp storage of the forgotten home for nearly two decades.
The home and its contents was put on auction, and won by a younger necromancer. Eventually, he did find the revenant, and felt compelled to revive him. This necromancer currently acts as his guardian, keeper, and close friend. Oliver currently resides with him. Furthermore, due to decomposition from storage, he has little to no recollection of what his life (and undead life) was like before he was resurrected for the second time.
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE
• On the underside of Oliver's right foot is an elaborate branding. Within a laurel wreath type frame are the initials "TM" with his 'manufacturing date.'
• Oliver, out of habit, stretches. When alive, it was natural for him to practice his flexibility several times a day. The action hasn't left him, and he does it subconsciously now.
• Oliver's original creator must have been brilliant, for the boy's physiology is incredibly complex. Originally, he had many of his natural organs. Furthermore, the intention of his creator was to make him as lifelike as possible. However, due to being in storage, many of his natural organs began to decay, and were replaced by Nikolai, the necromancer who revived him most recently. His inner mechanism beats in the same rhythm of a heart, and it's speed can be determined by his emotions. Oliver's nerves were rebuilt by his original creator and his feeling of sensation is just as equal, if not stronger, than a living human. His digestive tract, although previously partially decayed, has been rebuilt and is now entirely mechanical. It serves him no need, but it allows him to enjoy and process food and drink (even if it provides him with no physical benefit).
• Oliver's brain was one of the few things that sustained seemingly irreparable damage...both from mild decay and previous injury. This damage may or may not have resulted in his poor short term memory as well as insomnia.
• He occasionally suffers from minor glitches in his complex physiology. These instances are few and far between, but can be frightening and uncomfortable.
• Oliver has a tendency to leave Nikolai's apartment at a whim and simply wander. Of course, this is a problem because his physical prowess can lead him very far and his memory is very poor.
• "Oliver Van Sydney" is not his original name, which has been lost to time. The title he goes by now was found on the box he was packed in, meaning that it likely belonged to his owner.