Post by Jacob B. Dole on Mar 17, 2009 0:45:50 GMT 1
Details
Name: Jacob B. Dole
Nationality: American
Ethnicity: Mixed European, born from a long line of American's.
Attended School:
Age: 17
Weight: 210lbs
Height: 6'4
Appearance:
Body: He's at the center point between ripped and tone, bulky and thin. His muscles are dense and defined, showing that he works out and take care of himself, but seems unrefined as to what degree of physical characteristics he leans towards. His shoulders seem a bit broader then his frame, while his Latissimus Dorsi muscles are rather large, fanning out from his body when he raises his arms above shoulder level. He's been refer to before as having 'flying squirrel wings'. Besides having abnormally large lats, even for someone of his height, he also has a well developed abdomen region. It almost looks like something you'd see out of a Itagaki Keisuke manga, but no where near that advanced. He does, however, work on every section of his abdomen, From his internal and external oblique to his rectus and transverse abdominal.
Scars: Being as adventurous as he is Jacob has gotten his fair share of nicks along the way. The more noticeable ones include: A one inch diagonal cut behind his right ear, which has taken a small piece of his earlobe. A oblong shaped circle on the outside of his left elbow, which varies in color and size the further from the joint it is. The worst of it's now a light pink with a purple center, no more then a quart of an inch around. Finally, multiple nicks and scraps across his back, mostly spanning the upper area, from one lat to the other.
Cosmetics: He, like millions more around the world, was swept up with the storm more commonly known as the UFC. So he likes to wear their products and sponsors products most of all. He is most notably seen wearing a black and grey UFC cap, with 'as real as it gets' written across the back. Aside from that he'll wear UFC T-shirts and hoodies with simple blue jeans and Adidas sneakers.
Eye color: Blue
Hair: Brown, rather silky-especially for a guy, and he likes it long enough to hang down in front of his face, but not long enough so that he has to tie it back. He often just flicks it back over his head and puts his hat down over top to keep it pinned, but otherwise he lets it fall where it will. To say he stole the style from WWE Wrestler Triple-H would be a fair statement.
Habits: He does bite his nails, and if he's bitten those down to far he'll start chewing away at the tips of his fingers, ripping away at the top layer of skin. This is more something he does when he's alone and bored, or hungry and doesn't know what to eat. He also enjoys spouting off useless references to movies and various reports, little tidbits of information that make him look smarter for knowing them.
If he has a deck of cards, and isn't doing anything, he'll take them out and start shuffling them over and over again. He'll sit there for hours should nothing arise, just splitting and shuffling the cards back together.
When at home, should it be morning, afternoon, or evening, if he hasn't planned anything he'll change into his housecoat and do everything in that. It could be simple household chores like washing the dishes, to even taking out the trash and he still won't bother to get dressed, or even put on shoes. Unlike most of his neighbors he never wears his shoes past the front hall.
Other Information[/b]
Personality: A gentlemen crossed with an asshole is a good way to describe his personality. Though, he prefers telling people that his words don't dictate his actions. He can be snooty at times, especially when it comes to being right. He realizes that he doesn't know everything, but when he believes he knows something he'll be as stubborn as a mule. Around friends and family he exerts a type of wit that is clearly sarcastic, but immensely rude at the same time, but no one ever seems to question him on it, leaving him to get away with it. In public he's more solemn in his actions, usually only talking to others if they speak to him first, he's been introduced on a prior occasion, or needs something.
Overall though, he's a good guy at heart. He has strong morales about what's right and wrong, but just acts like he's the devils advocate because it amuses him. He's basically like every other high school kid out there, no clue where he's going, just wants to have fun along the way. Thought, at times he pushes his sense of fun past the line of abnormal into crazy.
Hobbies: He enjoys playing tennis, nothing serious just a light 5-set match with a friend every couple of weeks. He also enjoys archery, having his own area set up in his parents back yard so he can test his aim whenever he likes.
Extracurricular: None at the moment, but due to his size the basketball team from his other school has always tried to recruit him.
Important Details
History: Jacob Bartholomew Dole, a son of San Francisco, was born in the state penitentiary and put up for adoption right after the umbilical cord was cut. His biological mother, Stacy Keenin, died from multiple stab wounds several months after his birth. To this day he hasn't seen a picture of her. He didn't stay in the system for long, being adopted by a lovely couple who were unable to conceive. Unlike his biological parents, whose ancestors could be dated back to some of the first settlers to cross the ocean, his new parents were heavily Irish, only second generation American. But, he grew up in a happy environment, peacefully living in a middle class family.
It didn't take long to see the differences between him and his parents, since after his first birthday they had his spine measured to estimate how tall he'd be. The doctors told them he'd grow to just past six feet tall. This was a bit of a difference, as neither Marry or David Dole were taller then five foot seven. But miracles like that happen all the time, so they would just tell him he was a special blessing from the lord, or so they figured they would until he was ready to learn he was adopted. The other difference was his smooth, silky brown hair, compared to their ginger qualities. But no matter what there's always that genetic possibility. And so he grew up with a happy life, being enrolled in preschool at the age of 5, and continued to develop just as a normal child should.
It wasn't until he was 7 that he really became active. His parents knew that children were a handful, but they never assumed he'd be as rambunctious as he was. He had the energy, and desire, to run around all day at school, hardly ever able to sit still, and then once he got home he was out in the back yard just tossing and chasing balls, climbing trees, doing whatever interested him at that moment. He was very spontaneous like that, should he see something he wanted to try, he'd do it without hesitation. That's how he started archery at the age of 9, and playing tennis at the age of 11.
Given his height already being drastically taller then the other kids, his parents were often approached by coaches as he was playing tennis, saying that he could be the next Pete Sampras, but when asked if he wanted to try out a more competitive scene he always shied away, and his parents never pushed him. The thing that attracted the coaches even more then his size was his timing, accuracy and perception. He wasn't the fastest runner, or the strongest server - though his height definitely gave him a service advantage, but he was able to somehow keep his eye on the ball and his opponent and hit it with such procession to nearly always get a winner. He'd just see angles that you'd never expect a kid to see, paths that take years of dedication to find. In that sense he was a genius, hold a natural ability to control the timing and accuracy of his swing while never losing sight of the ball.
It wasn't until he was thirteen that he'd realize where his true passion lied, and that his gift was a doorway to bigger and better things. It was during lunch, out on the soccer Field that he got into his first fight. He can't quite remember what started it, thought it was something stupid like: What's better, coke or pepsi? Though, he's always sided with Coke. He was most likely getting into the argument because that previous weekend his parents told him he was adopted. Anyways, the first blow he received was a sucker punch, straight to his stomach. His tall, lithe frame was forced bent over, coughing, one knee down on the ground. The other boy tried to soccer punt Jacob in the head, but he saw it coming. At the last moment as the leg was coming up he threw himself onto the leg, his right arm wrapping over top the leg and under the knee, his other arm securing it from the bottom. He pushed up, forcing the knee into the boys chest as he held the lower part of the leg against his own, then continued to run the boy backward until he stumbled and landed forcefully on his back - Jacobs shoulder slamming down on the chest of the much smaller kid. That one take-down was enough to stop the other boy from moving, and not knowing what else to do Jacob just got up and left, relatively unharmed excepted for an aching, sore stomach.
That night he researched fighting, and clicked on a link to wrestling. He watched a few clips, then went and asked his parents if he could join the wrestling team at his junior high. Reluctantly they agreed, believing this would help tame any aggression he had from learning he was adopted. Later in that night he researched ways to strengthen his stomach, as the pain hadn't left at all. He found a site listing multiple types of sit-ups, and what area they work. Since then he's been doing multiple variations every night, which has taken up hours of his time in more later dates. By the age of fourteen his stomach was completely ripped, and given his height and already well developed build he was often mistaken for someone older. This suited him just fine, as he was the only guy out of his friends to have a girlfriend two years older then himself.
Up until his last few months at Junior High he was on the wrestling team, learning the basic of amateur wrestling, and even competed in a few tournaments, but mostly just skipped them and went to practice. He wasn't interested in the sport itself, he just wanted some training in the moves. He probably would've kept with it, but he was already six feet tall and his coaches wanted him to cut weight - something he wasn't found of in the least. After quiting the wrestling team he started researching other combat sports, and came across Muay Thai. He liked the idea of using his elbows and knees, but not so much kicks and punches. He still practiced them by himself up in his room, but that was until he found out about palm strikes and knife hand moves. These appealed to him more because they could much more easily variate between strikes and grabs.
He didn't go to Hircine High, as he wasn't incredibly smart: just average, nor was he incredibly violent given the systems standards. Instead he went to Cartford. His high school experience there was rather dull compared to most, his freshmen year was plagued with more 'join me' club notices then he had cared to count, but that was to be expected given his size. He refused them all, sometimes having to be a bit more physical when tell them 'no', but they all got the hint eventually. Sophomore year he didn't receive any invitations, and caused only a few major disturbances. One involved playing hero between a scared freshmen and a senior with a blade. That's how he got the scar behind his ear, and a bit of an ego boost in terms of his fighting abilities. After that he started getting into more and more fights, and on a really adventurous day him and a friend play what he likes to call "Chicken, with arrows."
The rules of the game are simple, it's like the game of chicken were two cars are driving towards one another, and the first one to swerve to avoid the collision loses. Only, in this scenario one person has a bow and arrow, and the other one has a pair of leather gloves. Now, he wasn't so stupid as to actually stand in front of the arrows path, at first. The first few tries he was back far enough so that it wasn't even exciting. He was able to catch the arrow with little to no problem, and so he moved closer. Again, the same series of events unfolded. So he decided to see how good he really was, and when his friend released the arrow and it headed towards him he stepped in front of it's path and went to snatch it, but only deflected it to his left, the tip scrapping over his left elbow. And there it was, the second scar. They didn't play that game again for a few months, but time and time again he likes to test himself.
Lastly, and the reason as to why he was forced to change schools, was because of the scars he got across his back. More so then just the scars, there was allot of internal bruising from the lead pipes and two-by-fours. If anyone doubted his toughness before, they didn't after that. It was like any other day, though he was feeling pretty high on himself, and pushed his luck too far. He got into a fight with one of the most well-known gang members at Cartford, and though he won the battle he'd lose the war. After school he was cornered while walking his love interest home. Now, somewhere in the scuffle Kim was knocked to the ground, and like sharks to blood the gang members started towards her, weapons and all. It was all he could do to jump on top of her and take the beating as it came. Luckily for him his back was large enough to cover her petite frame without so much as a hair sticking out. Roughly thirty minutes after the beating he woke up in the ambulance, groggy as hell, but Kim was sitting next to him; crying, but physically fine.
Twenty one wooden splinters and a week later and he was out walking around again. He would've left that day if it was up to him, but his parents insisted he stayed there, and the hospital fully agreed and was forced to strapped him down. He was expecting his next school day at Cartford to be most rewarding as he'd hunt down each bastard of that gang and send them to the hospital, but his parents surprised him with a transfer. It went through, and the day before he was suppose to attend Hircine High it went and exploded, along with Paragon. So, while he was suppose to attend Hircine, he have to wait for it to be fixed, or whatever the school districts plan was to go into effect.
Fighting Style: 'Sophisticated Street Fighting'
Using his wrestling knowledge he likes to keep control of the aspect of the fight, whether he chooses to stay standing or bringing it to the ground. He uses his knees, elbows, and palms to attack in striking, rarely every does he ball his hand into a fist and strike with his knuckles. He prefers to set traps with small, weightless attacks, leading his opponent's into attacking an opening he leaves for them. He's patient, and will wait for the right action before he makes his move. He's very much like a bull fighter in that sense, but won't necessarily always try to dodge.
Strengths: Having natural athletic tendencies, as well as being tall and muscular, you could be lead to assume that he's fast, strong, agile, and such. And while he's no slouch, he's not the fastest, nor does he strive to be. He's not the strongest, and the desire to lift cars above his head his absent. He's as strong and as fast as he needs to be in order to do whatever he likes. What his real strengths are can fall into four categories: Perceptive, Accurate, Tough, and Timing.
Perceptive being that he has a good sense of distance and very good peripheral vision. Accurate in the way that he can control his body as he pleases to strike firmly with devotion at what he see's. His toughness speaks for itself, from his highly developed abdominals and back. Lastly, we have his sense of timing. Given that he's patient, and has good perceptive abilities, he can sit back and weight until he see's the right opening. His timing is basically a combination of his perception and accuracy, as he controls his body enough to move in or out, what limb to use, and where to grab. He does these actions so well it appears as though he's reading his opponent's mind. With these talents he considers himself a genius, though never says it verbally, nor does he boast about his strengths. He's very confident in that matter.
Weaknesses: Physically, he doesn't strive to be the best at any one thing. Many people will be faster, stronger, more agile. But he's fine with that. His size is a good deterrent, mostly because of his range. Another issue that he has that he concerns as a weakness is his lack of experience. Sure, he fought at his other school, but there aren't many tales from Cartford of strong fighters, like there is from Hircine and Paragon. He doesn't have a full style yet, just bits and pieces, so it's stuck there for the moment. Given his athletic tendencies he actually has a good stamina for such a tall frame, but that could be all for not if his opponent knows how to properly throw him off his game and apply pressure.
Name: Jacob B. Dole
Nationality: American
Ethnicity: Mixed European, born from a long line of American's.
Attended School:
Age: 17
Weight: 210lbs
Height: 6'4
Appearance:
Body: He's at the center point between ripped and tone, bulky and thin. His muscles are dense and defined, showing that he works out and take care of himself, but seems unrefined as to what degree of physical characteristics he leans towards. His shoulders seem a bit broader then his frame, while his Latissimus Dorsi muscles are rather large, fanning out from his body when he raises his arms above shoulder level. He's been refer to before as having 'flying squirrel wings'. Besides having abnormally large lats, even for someone of his height, he also has a well developed abdomen region. It almost looks like something you'd see out of a Itagaki Keisuke manga, but no where near that advanced. He does, however, work on every section of his abdomen, From his internal and external oblique to his rectus and transverse abdominal.
Scars: Being as adventurous as he is Jacob has gotten his fair share of nicks along the way. The more noticeable ones include: A one inch diagonal cut behind his right ear, which has taken a small piece of his earlobe. A oblong shaped circle on the outside of his left elbow, which varies in color and size the further from the joint it is. The worst of it's now a light pink with a purple center, no more then a quart of an inch around. Finally, multiple nicks and scraps across his back, mostly spanning the upper area, from one lat to the other.
Cosmetics: He, like millions more around the world, was swept up with the storm more commonly known as the UFC. So he likes to wear their products and sponsors products most of all. He is most notably seen wearing a black and grey UFC cap, with 'as real as it gets' written across the back. Aside from that he'll wear UFC T-shirts and hoodies with simple blue jeans and Adidas sneakers.
Eye color: Blue
Hair: Brown, rather silky-especially for a guy, and he likes it long enough to hang down in front of his face, but not long enough so that he has to tie it back. He often just flicks it back over his head and puts his hat down over top to keep it pinned, but otherwise he lets it fall where it will. To say he stole the style from WWE Wrestler Triple-H would be a fair statement.
Habits: He does bite his nails, and if he's bitten those down to far he'll start chewing away at the tips of his fingers, ripping away at the top layer of skin. This is more something he does when he's alone and bored, or hungry and doesn't know what to eat. He also enjoys spouting off useless references to movies and various reports, little tidbits of information that make him look smarter for knowing them.
If he has a deck of cards, and isn't doing anything, he'll take them out and start shuffling them over and over again. He'll sit there for hours should nothing arise, just splitting and shuffling the cards back together.
When at home, should it be morning, afternoon, or evening, if he hasn't planned anything he'll change into his housecoat and do everything in that. It could be simple household chores like washing the dishes, to even taking out the trash and he still won't bother to get dressed, or even put on shoes. Unlike most of his neighbors he never wears his shoes past the front hall.
Other Information[/b]
Personality: A gentlemen crossed with an asshole is a good way to describe his personality. Though, he prefers telling people that his words don't dictate his actions. He can be snooty at times, especially when it comes to being right. He realizes that he doesn't know everything, but when he believes he knows something he'll be as stubborn as a mule. Around friends and family he exerts a type of wit that is clearly sarcastic, but immensely rude at the same time, but no one ever seems to question him on it, leaving him to get away with it. In public he's more solemn in his actions, usually only talking to others if they speak to him first, he's been introduced on a prior occasion, or needs something.
Overall though, he's a good guy at heart. He has strong morales about what's right and wrong, but just acts like he's the devils advocate because it amuses him. He's basically like every other high school kid out there, no clue where he's going, just wants to have fun along the way. Thought, at times he pushes his sense of fun past the line of abnormal into crazy.
Hobbies: He enjoys playing tennis, nothing serious just a light 5-set match with a friend every couple of weeks. He also enjoys archery, having his own area set up in his parents back yard so he can test his aim whenever he likes.
Extracurricular: None at the moment, but due to his size the basketball team from his other school has always tried to recruit him.
Important Details
History: Jacob Bartholomew Dole, a son of San Francisco, was born in the state penitentiary and put up for adoption right after the umbilical cord was cut. His biological mother, Stacy Keenin, died from multiple stab wounds several months after his birth. To this day he hasn't seen a picture of her. He didn't stay in the system for long, being adopted by a lovely couple who were unable to conceive. Unlike his biological parents, whose ancestors could be dated back to some of the first settlers to cross the ocean, his new parents were heavily Irish, only second generation American. But, he grew up in a happy environment, peacefully living in a middle class family.
It didn't take long to see the differences between him and his parents, since after his first birthday they had his spine measured to estimate how tall he'd be. The doctors told them he'd grow to just past six feet tall. This was a bit of a difference, as neither Marry or David Dole were taller then five foot seven. But miracles like that happen all the time, so they would just tell him he was a special blessing from the lord, or so they figured they would until he was ready to learn he was adopted. The other difference was his smooth, silky brown hair, compared to their ginger qualities. But no matter what there's always that genetic possibility. And so he grew up with a happy life, being enrolled in preschool at the age of 5, and continued to develop just as a normal child should.
It wasn't until he was 7 that he really became active. His parents knew that children were a handful, but they never assumed he'd be as rambunctious as he was. He had the energy, and desire, to run around all day at school, hardly ever able to sit still, and then once he got home he was out in the back yard just tossing and chasing balls, climbing trees, doing whatever interested him at that moment. He was very spontaneous like that, should he see something he wanted to try, he'd do it without hesitation. That's how he started archery at the age of 9, and playing tennis at the age of 11.
Given his height already being drastically taller then the other kids, his parents were often approached by coaches as he was playing tennis, saying that he could be the next Pete Sampras, but when asked if he wanted to try out a more competitive scene he always shied away, and his parents never pushed him. The thing that attracted the coaches even more then his size was his timing, accuracy and perception. He wasn't the fastest runner, or the strongest server - though his height definitely gave him a service advantage, but he was able to somehow keep his eye on the ball and his opponent and hit it with such procession to nearly always get a winner. He'd just see angles that you'd never expect a kid to see, paths that take years of dedication to find. In that sense he was a genius, hold a natural ability to control the timing and accuracy of his swing while never losing sight of the ball.
It wasn't until he was thirteen that he'd realize where his true passion lied, and that his gift was a doorway to bigger and better things. It was during lunch, out on the soccer Field that he got into his first fight. He can't quite remember what started it, thought it was something stupid like: What's better, coke or pepsi? Though, he's always sided with Coke. He was most likely getting into the argument because that previous weekend his parents told him he was adopted. Anyways, the first blow he received was a sucker punch, straight to his stomach. His tall, lithe frame was forced bent over, coughing, one knee down on the ground. The other boy tried to soccer punt Jacob in the head, but he saw it coming. At the last moment as the leg was coming up he threw himself onto the leg, his right arm wrapping over top the leg and under the knee, his other arm securing it from the bottom. He pushed up, forcing the knee into the boys chest as he held the lower part of the leg against his own, then continued to run the boy backward until he stumbled and landed forcefully on his back - Jacobs shoulder slamming down on the chest of the much smaller kid. That one take-down was enough to stop the other boy from moving, and not knowing what else to do Jacob just got up and left, relatively unharmed excepted for an aching, sore stomach.
That night he researched fighting, and clicked on a link to wrestling. He watched a few clips, then went and asked his parents if he could join the wrestling team at his junior high. Reluctantly they agreed, believing this would help tame any aggression he had from learning he was adopted. Later in that night he researched ways to strengthen his stomach, as the pain hadn't left at all. He found a site listing multiple types of sit-ups, and what area they work. Since then he's been doing multiple variations every night, which has taken up hours of his time in more later dates. By the age of fourteen his stomach was completely ripped, and given his height and already well developed build he was often mistaken for someone older. This suited him just fine, as he was the only guy out of his friends to have a girlfriend two years older then himself.
Up until his last few months at Junior High he was on the wrestling team, learning the basic of amateur wrestling, and even competed in a few tournaments, but mostly just skipped them and went to practice. He wasn't interested in the sport itself, he just wanted some training in the moves. He probably would've kept with it, but he was already six feet tall and his coaches wanted him to cut weight - something he wasn't found of in the least. After quiting the wrestling team he started researching other combat sports, and came across Muay Thai. He liked the idea of using his elbows and knees, but not so much kicks and punches. He still practiced them by himself up in his room, but that was until he found out about palm strikes and knife hand moves. These appealed to him more because they could much more easily variate between strikes and grabs.
He didn't go to Hircine High, as he wasn't incredibly smart: just average, nor was he incredibly violent given the systems standards. Instead he went to Cartford. His high school experience there was rather dull compared to most, his freshmen year was plagued with more 'join me' club notices then he had cared to count, but that was to be expected given his size. He refused them all, sometimes having to be a bit more physical when tell them 'no', but they all got the hint eventually. Sophomore year he didn't receive any invitations, and caused only a few major disturbances. One involved playing hero between a scared freshmen and a senior with a blade. That's how he got the scar behind his ear, and a bit of an ego boost in terms of his fighting abilities. After that he started getting into more and more fights, and on a really adventurous day him and a friend play what he likes to call "Chicken, with arrows."
The rules of the game are simple, it's like the game of chicken were two cars are driving towards one another, and the first one to swerve to avoid the collision loses. Only, in this scenario one person has a bow and arrow, and the other one has a pair of leather gloves. Now, he wasn't so stupid as to actually stand in front of the arrows path, at first. The first few tries he was back far enough so that it wasn't even exciting. He was able to catch the arrow with little to no problem, and so he moved closer. Again, the same series of events unfolded. So he decided to see how good he really was, and when his friend released the arrow and it headed towards him he stepped in front of it's path and went to snatch it, but only deflected it to his left, the tip scrapping over his left elbow. And there it was, the second scar. They didn't play that game again for a few months, but time and time again he likes to test himself.
Lastly, and the reason as to why he was forced to change schools, was because of the scars he got across his back. More so then just the scars, there was allot of internal bruising from the lead pipes and two-by-fours. If anyone doubted his toughness before, they didn't after that. It was like any other day, though he was feeling pretty high on himself, and pushed his luck too far. He got into a fight with one of the most well-known gang members at Cartford, and though he won the battle he'd lose the war. After school he was cornered while walking his love interest home. Now, somewhere in the scuffle Kim was knocked to the ground, and like sharks to blood the gang members started towards her, weapons and all. It was all he could do to jump on top of her and take the beating as it came. Luckily for him his back was large enough to cover her petite frame without so much as a hair sticking out. Roughly thirty minutes after the beating he woke up in the ambulance, groggy as hell, but Kim was sitting next to him; crying, but physically fine.
Twenty one wooden splinters and a week later and he was out walking around again. He would've left that day if it was up to him, but his parents insisted he stayed there, and the hospital fully agreed and was forced to strapped him down. He was expecting his next school day at Cartford to be most rewarding as he'd hunt down each bastard of that gang and send them to the hospital, but his parents surprised him with a transfer. It went through, and the day before he was suppose to attend Hircine High it went and exploded, along with Paragon. So, while he was suppose to attend Hircine, he have to wait for it to be fixed, or whatever the school districts plan was to go into effect.
Fighting Style: 'Sophisticated Street Fighting'
Using his wrestling knowledge he likes to keep control of the aspect of the fight, whether he chooses to stay standing or bringing it to the ground. He uses his knees, elbows, and palms to attack in striking, rarely every does he ball his hand into a fist and strike with his knuckles. He prefers to set traps with small, weightless attacks, leading his opponent's into attacking an opening he leaves for them. He's patient, and will wait for the right action before he makes his move. He's very much like a bull fighter in that sense, but won't necessarily always try to dodge.
Strengths: Having natural athletic tendencies, as well as being tall and muscular, you could be lead to assume that he's fast, strong, agile, and such. And while he's no slouch, he's not the fastest, nor does he strive to be. He's not the strongest, and the desire to lift cars above his head his absent. He's as strong and as fast as he needs to be in order to do whatever he likes. What his real strengths are can fall into four categories: Perceptive, Accurate, Tough, and Timing.
Perceptive being that he has a good sense of distance and very good peripheral vision. Accurate in the way that he can control his body as he pleases to strike firmly with devotion at what he see's. His toughness speaks for itself, from his highly developed abdominals and back. Lastly, we have his sense of timing. Given that he's patient, and has good perceptive abilities, he can sit back and weight until he see's the right opening. His timing is basically a combination of his perception and accuracy, as he controls his body enough to move in or out, what limb to use, and where to grab. He does these actions so well it appears as though he's reading his opponent's mind. With these talents he considers himself a genius, though never says it verbally, nor does he boast about his strengths. He's very confident in that matter.
Weaknesses: Physically, he doesn't strive to be the best at any one thing. Many people will be faster, stronger, more agile. But he's fine with that. His size is a good deterrent, mostly because of his range. Another issue that he has that he concerns as a weakness is his lack of experience. Sure, he fought at his other school, but there aren't many tales from Cartford of strong fighters, like there is from Hircine and Paragon. He doesn't have a full style yet, just bits and pieces, so it's stuck there for the moment. Given his athletic tendencies he actually has a good stamina for such a tall frame, but that could be all for not if his opponent knows how to properly throw him off his game and apply pressure.
