Post by KC on Dec 12, 2007 11:44:21 GMT 1
Details
Name: Kenneth Frank Carole.
Nicknames: KC, Ken, Kenny, KFC – hates being referred to KFC.
Nationality: American
Age: 16
Weight: 170lbs
Height: 6’0
Appearance:
Body: For the most part Ken’s stopped growing. He’s hit a rather tall height and most likely isn’t going to make it past six feet tall, though if he does it won’t be extraordinary. All that’s left for him to do is fill out, and so far he’s filled out quiet nicely. His daily activities have left him with a toned – but not hardened – exterior. He’s not bulky in any one area, and is rather all around and built on speed – most which of running and everything involved in tumbling, dashing, and climbing.
But when you get down into it he has runners legs, thin and toned from sprinting down the streets of San Francisco, but with a bit of meat. Hey, he’s not a professional runner: he’s a teen. His forearms are rather toned, showing he’s developed a good grip with his three separate muscles built on top of one another.
Cosmetic: He likes the color blue, his jackets blue, his under shirts are usually blue, and his choices of pants range from baggy blue-jeans to blue track pants. He’s a blue, blue guy. His jacket is actually died leather, made for riding motorcycles. Though he’s kept it in rather good condition, almost like that of a blazer, giving it a much fancier look. His usual type of shirt is both blue and white, almost like a jersey but without any team or player names or numbers on it. It also appears to be a bit more form fitting then a jersey, but the materials roughly the same and the look is as well. Rounding off his cloths he wears black fingerless gloves, made for biking, though he has other uses.
Eye color: Brown
Hair: Its naturally brown, as it is in the back, but he’s died the bangs – surprise surprise – blue. The front flows down longer then the back, with the strands more pulled together then scattered. It’s still messy and he often brushes it back, only to have it fall back in place.
Habits: He has the urge to steal, a lot. He doesn’t usually go for anything big while in school, just stupid little things like pencils and erasers, but he often does this while walking down the hall – not while in class. Besides his light fingers he has a habit of carrying around a metal pole outside of school, but only while on his gangs turf.
Other Information
Personality: For the most part KC looks to be higher spirited. He enjoys going to parties, socializing, and over all making people feel better. He does this as distractions from his own problems, and to simply stop thinking about them. The less he thinks about them, the less real they become. That’s why he’s often searching for parties while at school, rather then actually doing his work or studying.
But don’t get him wrong; he’s not a slacker. He actually has a strong work ethic; he just needs something that he’s interested in to work for him. Such things like math and science bore him, and it shows in his grades. But if it’s looking for the best way to get something he’ll be thinking of different ways to steal it all the time. He is, after all, a pickpocket.
Hobbies: Shoplifting, pick pocketing, the general arrangement of thievery on the lower level, though not involving weapons and direct confrontation. Besides that he enjoys listening to his ipod, bought legitimately through illegitimate means.
Extracurricular: He’s tried out the track team before, but found the coach to be to much of a pain in the ass to bother with. So after stealing the hood ornament from his car, as well as the spare cash from his wallet he quiet the team, though diverted the attention from himself to Rickie Sanders, another freshman at the time.
Important Details
History: You can’t quite call Ken’s upbringing normal. Everything up to the age of five was fine, and then his father was killed in a mugging on his way home from work. His mother committed suicide two weeks later, a ‘good bye’ note was never found by the body, but KC carries it around in his wallet for personal reasons. After his mothers body was found his abusive grandmother took him in. He wasn’t able to escape that hellhole until the social worker showed up three years later and found his living conditions unacceptable. But during that time he had cigarettes put out on his back if he was scrubbing the floor wrong, he was constantly kicked and belittled if he tried to stand up and say ‘no’. There were several occasions where he ‘fell down the stairs’ and needed to go to the hospital.
Moving into a foster home didn’t really help any. There it was survival of the fittest, and after having been beaten down and abused every day he made little progress at becoming ‘top dog.’ He was smaller then most of the other boys, and rather timid and shy. Luckily for him though they mostly just left him alone, letting him drift back into the surroundings and basically become invisible. Hell, his foster parents wouldn’t even know about him if they didn’t receive a check from the government for taking care of him.
It was during this time in his first foster home that he began to steal. He’d take twenty or thirty cents from a couple of ‘brothers’ in order to buy a candy bar, or he’d slip into the kitchen while supper was being made and slip out with a small plate of pre-made veggies and dip, sometimes hot dogs and cheese were also involved. Though at times he’d be forced to share, he was usually able to escape to the closest closet in order to eat his meal in peace.
When he was twelve he ran away, the deciding factor in this move was his foster father handing out spankings to all the boys around the age of fourteen. The cruel noises he heard coming from his foster parents bedroom made everyone in the house cringe. When asked what happened the boys always remained silent, usually with tears in their eyes as the limped toward their bed.
Living on the streets was hard at first; he was a sloppy pickpocket, barely able to get enough money together to scrap together three meals a week, let alone three a day. But he showed potential, and was an outcast, and that’s why he was allowed into the gang that ran the 16th street block. They didn’t have a name, and it wasn’t like they were out their for recognition, they were just outcasts banding together in order to survive. It was with Timmy, James, Ben, Carlos, and Steve that he learned how to lift wallets and other possessions without the mark noticing. They practiced on each other while not out searching for marks, usually in an old warehouse.
About a eight months to a year after he joined the gang he saw his first fight, it was a full fledged battle where all he could do was sit on the side lines and watch. Everyone was pounding on everyone, and weapons were slowly being introduced, but luckily the cops arrived before and casualties could ensue. Everyone split off in different directions, and despite not having even thrown a punch the cruiser decided to follow KC. They had one hell of a time trying to catch him though. It became an incident with more then one group of officers involved in a foot chase. The cruisers speed became null and void when he bolted down another alley and jumped a ten-foot steel link fence. The second cruiser became just as useless when it tired to block off the other side of the alley. KC just jumped and slid across the hood before dodging traffic and escaping into the next contortion of buildings-turned-mazes.
That night he escaped, but a few days later he was picked up while walking down the street. Lucky enough for him he hadn’t lifted from his mark yet, and so they couldn’t hold him with anything. What they did do is ship him back off to child services, and then into another foster home. This one was better than the last, though not by much. Ken still escaped daily to meet up with his friends, but would often return at nights for a warmer place to sleep. His enrollment in school was boring, and his attendance was poor, but his grades remained steady at C’s, and sometimes B’s.
Though, when he wasn’t attending the jail like school system he was lifting marks or hanging with his friends. The fight was often the topic of discussion, or at least it was until they decided to start training to become stronger fighters. Weapons became involved a few weeks down the road, and thus was the introduction to KC and a steel pole.
Perhaps in some past life Ken was a martial arts master, because he was a genius when it came to wielding a blunt end pole arm. Or, in his case a steel rod. But regardless he was good with the construction rods. He was even pretty good with sorter weapons, but the longer pole arm shaped weapons were his more ‘gifted’ area.
A few months after KC had turned fourteen rumors began to rise up about another gang war sprouting between them and another group from a few blocks away. This wasn’t about gaining turf, just defending it and their morals. Apparently someone was taking marks from their side of town, and the gang there wasn’t too happy about it. What exactly prompted them to believe that those at the 16th street block were the one committing these acts was unknown, but pride had honor had been struck, and so they would have to strike back.
On the night of the meeting KC stood out front with his leader, steel pole already in hand as it was placed firmly on his shoulder. He was staring daggers into his opposition, wanting desperately to crack each and every one of their mouths that were spurting those lies. The leaders first tried to settle this peacefully, but in the end neither side wanted that. The two groups ran at each other with unbridled of fury.
But the nights end neither side could claim an absolute victory. Their side had more guys standing, but the amount of people that had to go to the hospital was closing in on one hundred percent. KC wasn’t in as severe condition as the rest of his friends, but he still had two broken knuckles, his left middle and right index, a fractured right radius, and a pulled muscle on the inside of his knee from hyper extension due to an outside force… Aka someone stomping on the outside of his knee.
For the most part, for the rest of the year KC was on crutches, and wasn’t going to start lipping people off considering it was his first year at Hircine High. Just turning fifteen near the middle of the school put him at a slow regeneration for his injuries. But with some luck and hard work he was able to stand on his own two feet by the time track and field started. Oh, what a bother that was. To put it mildly KC soon started to hate track and field.
First he thought he’d like the sprinting portion, but that was to easy. A straight or gently curving line wasn’t much of a challenge. So then he decided to try hurdles. Boring. It was predictable and easily timed with his acceleration. Finally, his last chance at salvation was the javelin. He liked swinging around broom handles and steel rods just like every other male teenager, but to throw them was another thing all on it’s own. Put simply enough, it was boring.
It was also during this time that the principle started the Watchers program. Personally KC thought it was bullshit, but the end of the year was on its way. And since he hadn’t bothered anyone to the point of recognition in the jail guard’s eyes he was fine. Hell, they hadn’t even noticed him lifting one of their wallets while on patrol, and since he dropped it off at the office… albeit a few bucks short, they seemed none the wiser and assumed it was simply misplaced.
Now, starting his second year KC doesn’t know what to expect. His body’s back to one hundred percent, and improved slightly, and with a new hair color to sport his unique ‘true blue’ fashion design he seems ready to survive another year.
Fighting Style: Primarily street fighting combined with basic Bo Staff attacks and imagination. KC will use a branch, pole, anything he can use as a staff he will in order to get the advantage. Otherwise his knowledge and fighting is rather two-dimensional. His punches are rather straightforward; both crisp and precise when he’s attacking, or looping and wild when he’s on defensive. Kicking wise he’s not that flexible, and so he’ll mostly use his feet to stomp, knee, and trip his opponent.
When it comes to grappling, as most street fights end up in, he’s not quite the best at getting the upper hand. Noted best when he’s using a Bo Staff as he’ll try to keep his distance. However, he does have a bit of experience when grappling, and while it’s not technical it works for him.
Strengths: Stamina and endurance combined with speed. These three things are what keep him going. He can take a good deal of abuse while keeping his energy and speed up. He may not have the fastest techniques, but he is a speedy ‘little’ bastard. Mostly his speed is involved with running, but basic step through techniques and body movements are involved.
Weaknesses: Despite his street knowledge of grappling he’s not technical in it, or strong physically. He doesn’t lift weights, and his strikes while fast are just that, fast. Not being a power puncher it takes him awhile to take down his opposition – unless he’s using a weapon. Besides his physical stature being aimed at speed he’s also not to well diversified with different styles. Wrestling, Kickboxing, Jujitsu, these styles all elude him.
Name: Kenneth Frank Carole.
Nicknames: KC, Ken, Kenny, KFC – hates being referred to KFC.
Nationality: American
Age: 16
Weight: 170lbs
Height: 6’0
Appearance:
Body: For the most part Ken’s stopped growing. He’s hit a rather tall height and most likely isn’t going to make it past six feet tall, though if he does it won’t be extraordinary. All that’s left for him to do is fill out, and so far he’s filled out quiet nicely. His daily activities have left him with a toned – but not hardened – exterior. He’s not bulky in any one area, and is rather all around and built on speed – most which of running and everything involved in tumbling, dashing, and climbing.
But when you get down into it he has runners legs, thin and toned from sprinting down the streets of San Francisco, but with a bit of meat. Hey, he’s not a professional runner: he’s a teen. His forearms are rather toned, showing he’s developed a good grip with his three separate muscles built on top of one another.
Cosmetic: He likes the color blue, his jackets blue, his under shirts are usually blue, and his choices of pants range from baggy blue-jeans to blue track pants. He’s a blue, blue guy. His jacket is actually died leather, made for riding motorcycles. Though he’s kept it in rather good condition, almost like that of a blazer, giving it a much fancier look. His usual type of shirt is both blue and white, almost like a jersey but without any team or player names or numbers on it. It also appears to be a bit more form fitting then a jersey, but the materials roughly the same and the look is as well. Rounding off his cloths he wears black fingerless gloves, made for biking, though he has other uses.
Eye color: Brown
Hair: Its naturally brown, as it is in the back, but he’s died the bangs – surprise surprise – blue. The front flows down longer then the back, with the strands more pulled together then scattered. It’s still messy and he often brushes it back, only to have it fall back in place.
Habits: He has the urge to steal, a lot. He doesn’t usually go for anything big while in school, just stupid little things like pencils and erasers, but he often does this while walking down the hall – not while in class. Besides his light fingers he has a habit of carrying around a metal pole outside of school, but only while on his gangs turf.
Other Information
Personality: For the most part KC looks to be higher spirited. He enjoys going to parties, socializing, and over all making people feel better. He does this as distractions from his own problems, and to simply stop thinking about them. The less he thinks about them, the less real they become. That’s why he’s often searching for parties while at school, rather then actually doing his work or studying.
But don’t get him wrong; he’s not a slacker. He actually has a strong work ethic; he just needs something that he’s interested in to work for him. Such things like math and science bore him, and it shows in his grades. But if it’s looking for the best way to get something he’ll be thinking of different ways to steal it all the time. He is, after all, a pickpocket.
Hobbies: Shoplifting, pick pocketing, the general arrangement of thievery on the lower level, though not involving weapons and direct confrontation. Besides that he enjoys listening to his ipod, bought legitimately through illegitimate means.
Extracurricular: He’s tried out the track team before, but found the coach to be to much of a pain in the ass to bother with. So after stealing the hood ornament from his car, as well as the spare cash from his wallet he quiet the team, though diverted the attention from himself to Rickie Sanders, another freshman at the time.
Important Details
History: You can’t quite call Ken’s upbringing normal. Everything up to the age of five was fine, and then his father was killed in a mugging on his way home from work. His mother committed suicide two weeks later, a ‘good bye’ note was never found by the body, but KC carries it around in his wallet for personal reasons. After his mothers body was found his abusive grandmother took him in. He wasn’t able to escape that hellhole until the social worker showed up three years later and found his living conditions unacceptable. But during that time he had cigarettes put out on his back if he was scrubbing the floor wrong, he was constantly kicked and belittled if he tried to stand up and say ‘no’. There were several occasions where he ‘fell down the stairs’ and needed to go to the hospital.
Moving into a foster home didn’t really help any. There it was survival of the fittest, and after having been beaten down and abused every day he made little progress at becoming ‘top dog.’ He was smaller then most of the other boys, and rather timid and shy. Luckily for him though they mostly just left him alone, letting him drift back into the surroundings and basically become invisible. Hell, his foster parents wouldn’t even know about him if they didn’t receive a check from the government for taking care of him.
It was during this time in his first foster home that he began to steal. He’d take twenty or thirty cents from a couple of ‘brothers’ in order to buy a candy bar, or he’d slip into the kitchen while supper was being made and slip out with a small plate of pre-made veggies and dip, sometimes hot dogs and cheese were also involved. Though at times he’d be forced to share, he was usually able to escape to the closest closet in order to eat his meal in peace.
When he was twelve he ran away, the deciding factor in this move was his foster father handing out spankings to all the boys around the age of fourteen. The cruel noises he heard coming from his foster parents bedroom made everyone in the house cringe. When asked what happened the boys always remained silent, usually with tears in their eyes as the limped toward their bed.
Living on the streets was hard at first; he was a sloppy pickpocket, barely able to get enough money together to scrap together three meals a week, let alone three a day. But he showed potential, and was an outcast, and that’s why he was allowed into the gang that ran the 16th street block. They didn’t have a name, and it wasn’t like they were out their for recognition, they were just outcasts banding together in order to survive. It was with Timmy, James, Ben, Carlos, and Steve that he learned how to lift wallets and other possessions without the mark noticing. They practiced on each other while not out searching for marks, usually in an old warehouse.
About a eight months to a year after he joined the gang he saw his first fight, it was a full fledged battle where all he could do was sit on the side lines and watch. Everyone was pounding on everyone, and weapons were slowly being introduced, but luckily the cops arrived before and casualties could ensue. Everyone split off in different directions, and despite not having even thrown a punch the cruiser decided to follow KC. They had one hell of a time trying to catch him though. It became an incident with more then one group of officers involved in a foot chase. The cruisers speed became null and void when he bolted down another alley and jumped a ten-foot steel link fence. The second cruiser became just as useless when it tired to block off the other side of the alley. KC just jumped and slid across the hood before dodging traffic and escaping into the next contortion of buildings-turned-mazes.
That night he escaped, but a few days later he was picked up while walking down the street. Lucky enough for him he hadn’t lifted from his mark yet, and so they couldn’t hold him with anything. What they did do is ship him back off to child services, and then into another foster home. This one was better than the last, though not by much. Ken still escaped daily to meet up with his friends, but would often return at nights for a warmer place to sleep. His enrollment in school was boring, and his attendance was poor, but his grades remained steady at C’s, and sometimes B’s.
Though, when he wasn’t attending the jail like school system he was lifting marks or hanging with his friends. The fight was often the topic of discussion, or at least it was until they decided to start training to become stronger fighters. Weapons became involved a few weeks down the road, and thus was the introduction to KC and a steel pole.
Perhaps in some past life Ken was a martial arts master, because he was a genius when it came to wielding a blunt end pole arm. Or, in his case a steel rod. But regardless he was good with the construction rods. He was even pretty good with sorter weapons, but the longer pole arm shaped weapons were his more ‘gifted’ area.
A few months after KC had turned fourteen rumors began to rise up about another gang war sprouting between them and another group from a few blocks away. This wasn’t about gaining turf, just defending it and their morals. Apparently someone was taking marks from their side of town, and the gang there wasn’t too happy about it. What exactly prompted them to believe that those at the 16th street block were the one committing these acts was unknown, but pride had honor had been struck, and so they would have to strike back.
On the night of the meeting KC stood out front with his leader, steel pole already in hand as it was placed firmly on his shoulder. He was staring daggers into his opposition, wanting desperately to crack each and every one of their mouths that were spurting those lies. The leaders first tried to settle this peacefully, but in the end neither side wanted that. The two groups ran at each other with unbridled of fury.
But the nights end neither side could claim an absolute victory. Their side had more guys standing, but the amount of people that had to go to the hospital was closing in on one hundred percent. KC wasn’t in as severe condition as the rest of his friends, but he still had two broken knuckles, his left middle and right index, a fractured right radius, and a pulled muscle on the inside of his knee from hyper extension due to an outside force… Aka someone stomping on the outside of his knee.
For the most part, for the rest of the year KC was on crutches, and wasn’t going to start lipping people off considering it was his first year at Hircine High. Just turning fifteen near the middle of the school put him at a slow regeneration for his injuries. But with some luck and hard work he was able to stand on his own two feet by the time track and field started. Oh, what a bother that was. To put it mildly KC soon started to hate track and field.
First he thought he’d like the sprinting portion, but that was to easy. A straight or gently curving line wasn’t much of a challenge. So then he decided to try hurdles. Boring. It was predictable and easily timed with his acceleration. Finally, his last chance at salvation was the javelin. He liked swinging around broom handles and steel rods just like every other male teenager, but to throw them was another thing all on it’s own. Put simply enough, it was boring.
It was also during this time that the principle started the Watchers program. Personally KC thought it was bullshit, but the end of the year was on its way. And since he hadn’t bothered anyone to the point of recognition in the jail guard’s eyes he was fine. Hell, they hadn’t even noticed him lifting one of their wallets while on patrol, and since he dropped it off at the office… albeit a few bucks short, they seemed none the wiser and assumed it was simply misplaced.
Now, starting his second year KC doesn’t know what to expect. His body’s back to one hundred percent, and improved slightly, and with a new hair color to sport his unique ‘true blue’ fashion design he seems ready to survive another year.
Fighting Style: Primarily street fighting combined with basic Bo Staff attacks and imagination. KC will use a branch, pole, anything he can use as a staff he will in order to get the advantage. Otherwise his knowledge and fighting is rather two-dimensional. His punches are rather straightforward; both crisp and precise when he’s attacking, or looping and wild when he’s on defensive. Kicking wise he’s not that flexible, and so he’ll mostly use his feet to stomp, knee, and trip his opponent.
When it comes to grappling, as most street fights end up in, he’s not quite the best at getting the upper hand. Noted best when he’s using a Bo Staff as he’ll try to keep his distance. However, he does have a bit of experience when grappling, and while it’s not technical it works for him.
Strengths: Stamina and endurance combined with speed. These three things are what keep him going. He can take a good deal of abuse while keeping his energy and speed up. He may not have the fastest techniques, but he is a speedy ‘little’ bastard. Mostly his speed is involved with running, but basic step through techniques and body movements are involved.
Weaknesses: Despite his street knowledge of grappling he’s not technical in it, or strong physically. He doesn’t lift weights, and his strikes while fast are just that, fast. Not being a power puncher it takes him awhile to take down his opposition – unless he’s using a weapon. Besides his physical stature being aimed at speed he’s also not to well diversified with different styles. Wrestling, Kickboxing, Jujitsu, these styles all elude him.
