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Dean Maestro(WIP)

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1 Dean Maestro(WIP) on Thu Mar 30, 2017 12:01 pm

Dean Maestro
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Basic info
Name: Dean Maestro
Age: 26
Birthday: October 25th
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5’11 Feet
Weight: 110 pounds
Face Claim: Toua Tokuchi from One Outs/Render by The Luciferus

Aura 150|150 HP

Major: Academic
Likes: Oranges, Large-Scale Mock Battles, Planning.
Dislikes: Cheating, Idling, Getting Tired.
Fears: Getting Killed because of his lack of stamina, Dying a long and painful death, Vomiting
Talent: Perception
Weakness Stamina(Myasthenia gravis)
Overall Personality: "He's weaker than even some dust users, and he can't even run laps. How's this guy a hunter?"

Dean is a man who has been largely underestimated. If it's not from his lack of weight, it's been from those who surround him. This consistent underestimation has led him in a different direction than most. It's led to him being more practical about how he solves his problems, and planning around it.  He had a nickname in the academy. It was a fitting one.

His nickname was 'The Spider' because once you underestimated him, you were caught in his trap.  His talent, however, is not planning. It's his above-average level of perception.  He's used this above-average perception to keep tabs on things and make plans. While the plans, rarely without holes, were used with efficiency, it's always been his ability to adapt halfway through. His perception allows him to constantly adapt to something that happens on the field of battle, and on the field of a social scene. Social scenes are not his favorite place to be. His favorite place to be is, believe it or not, on the field fighting. Now, don't take this as, 'oh, he's a muscle head,' as he's not.

It's just where he thinks his talents could be used the best.  His practical nature doesn't apply as well to social scenes as it does to combat.  His practical nature has caused him to seem calloused, and angry. This isn't true. He's a calm sort. He's a deathly calm sort. So calm that one might think he's traumatized. He's not. He's a firm believer in mind over matter. His mind says that he can't beat, thereby he can't.

"He gets tired so easily. How has he even gotten this far?"

Dean is a sort of fellow who gets tired quite easily. His lack of Stamina is a massive weakness when it came to being a hunter. When normal people can keep going, chances are that he's already tired and can no longer keep up with everything. He's usually breathing hard after a few moments of combat, and usually collapsed shortly after. He has a complete lack of physical stamina, likely stemming from a mix of his lack of weight and his enduring lung problems.

"He has to have cheated! The Dean I know would've given in by now!"

Dean hates cheating. He feels that those that live by it, die by it. If you cheat, and live your life based on it, your web of lies is going to collapse. This is coming from a man nicknamed The Spider. He knows that any long lasting lies shouldn't be spoken. It's pointless to lie about everything. The truth is important. Very important.

"Dean is the best teammate one could have. He might be physically weak, and I've seen better tacticians. However, it's not his skill that sinks it. It's the fact that he makes sure that we're good with the plan... usually."

When possible, Dean tells people his plans. However, if he doesn't, he doesn't for a good reason.

He also has a terrible smoking habit. It was sprung from his father smoking, which places Dean in the category of doing everything possible to ruin his stamina. There's something you need to understand about Dean. It's not like he's been a badass, stoic fellow his entire life. That'd be completely wrong. He used to be a sort of impressionable youth who had so many problems that it wasn't even funny. Now that we've been over his problems, we've got to understand a deeply hidden part of his personality.

He owes his life, really, to a certain club. The Body Improvement Club. If it weren't for those guys, he can honestly say he'd have probably died. Dean, by no means, is a body builder. Dean knows that better than anyone. Dean's lack of body-weight is probably part of his problem.  Now, back when he was properly training to be a hunter, he was a bit bulkier, however, this is not to say that he was a massive walking muscle.

If he was, he probably wouldn't have all the problems he does. He, however, sees the good in giving people a second chance. His practical nature says no, but his heart says yes. After all, he wouldn’t be here if a group of Muscle-heads hadn’t given him a chance.

"Doesn't he know the past isn't what helps you? That it's the future that you have to take control of?"

Dean has a habit of looking and thinking about his past, about what he's actually done to get where he is. If he can figure out what he's done well, he can repeat it to go farther in life.  We all know the saying, 'You must learn history, or it will repeat.' He takes that to a whole new level. He has extensively studied the history of all he could get his hands on.  He's studied his own family history. He's studied the history of Bellmuse and the academy. The recent attacks were of interest to him, and part of the reason he decided to join Bellmuse.

He pays heavy attention to the news, in case he could use something from it, or in case something is relevant to what he's doing. It's important to realize that his planning isn't a talent, it's a learned skill. Even then, he's not at the level of some. It's why he grabs every last bit of knowledge and information that he can get, to be able to deal with things as they happen. To be able to predict attacks and to make sure he can get out if someone is going to explode.

Don't take this as a sign that he hates those who don't plan, or he thinks lesser of them. He knows those who don't plan have a place in proper teams. While plans can get you far, he also knows that actions can get you just as far. Well-structured plans can be ruined by a proper smash.
He has a habit of nicknaming people based on the skills he sees.
Aura type: Recovery
Aura Color: Yellow: Like His Hair
Semblance:  Teleportation up to 10m. Has to see
Item 1: He keeps a dagger hidden in his waistband.
Item 2:  Fire Dust

History and Sample
Dean was born.

The details of his birth were quite simple. He was born, underweight, in a normal hospital. The mother was fine, and no one tried killing anyone. His birth, thankfully, was normal.  His mother is the one he got a lot of his physical characteristics from. She had the blonde hair that he carries with him. He got his height from his father. His father never broke six feet, nor has Dean. The biggest thing he got from genetics is a case of Myasthenia gravis, which has gone undiagnosed for the longest time. It tires his body, while his naturally weak lungs were not helping the case.

His parents, even when he was five, were concerned. They thought that Dean may die from some sort of lung collapsing. Their doctor assured them that, while he was going to lack stamina, he wasn't going to die. This comforted his parents, although did nothing for the child. The child still had those problems, and as he grew older, they didn't grow better. They got worse, in fact. His body grew to be a reasonable size, and with that, came problems going long distances.

When he was 15, he asked to be enrolled into a combat academy. His parents were aghast at this. He got his way, though, because the entrance exams were things he aced. He was placed in a team in the school, and it's a team he wishes he hadn't left.

For the sake of privacy, we will refer to them as the nicknames he gave them.

Brutus: He was the physically strongest of the group

Angro: Angry and tall, Angro was the tallest of the group.

Dusty: The other dust user, Dusty was the sort to use dust to empower his own hits.

All three were massive, all standing over 6 and a half feet tall. He had to bunk with these monsters. When one would look at the team standing next to each other, they'd think Dean was a small man. Dean is average. His teammates were just monsters. He had also started smoking around this time. While not helping his lungs, it calmed his nerves. He didn't care about taste. That wasn't why he was doing it.

His roommates didn't approve of it, which is why he'd always sit outside and do it. No one questioned it, and without Dean's knowledge of his genetic birthright that was Myasthenia gravis, he had no reason not to smoke.  He felt the effect it had on his body. He didn't care about that. It kept his mind clear. It kept his mind ready. The first day that he and his team met are probably one of the best memories he has.

First Meeting:

When Dean was 15 and had enrolled in the school, he was set to meet his team properly, in the dorm. He was ready for it. What he wasn't ready for, was the massive bulk that was his teammates. He was fairly sure none of them stood below six and a half feet. They were giants of bulk, and he was an average sized guy with weak muscles. When he walked into the room, he felt small. They all looked menacing, and it was Brutus who spoke first.

"Hey! You that...Dean fella? Heard you were coming! Nice to have ya!"

Dean blinked. He wasn't entirely ready for that. He imagined they'd be rude, angry. He was entirely wrong. At least, about Brutus. Brutus wasn't terrible from the start.

"I...yeah. I'm Dean. I was told I was to team and bunk with the three of you."

Angro, howevr, met the requirements for the typical tall guy type. Angry, with a tendency to have that as his default emotion. It was obvious, from Angro's face, that he thought that Dean would hold them back.  Angro wasn't wrong if it was down to a physical battle. However, in a mental battle, Dean would be their best chance at victory. He was fine with Dusty, who was working on something in the corner. He could respect a man who just sat in a corner and focused on work. The most vocal one was Brutus.

"When it comes down to it, I'm sure you'll be of use. What's yer power?

Dean had to think if he really wanted to answer it. It wouldn't be smart to say that you could teleport to a room full of bulky men.  They'd probably stop it, but Brutus looked nice and kind enough.

"I can teleport. Ten Meter limit.  Simply put, I can run away. I'm not fit for close combat, honestly."

Brutus grabbed Dean's stuff and threw it on the far right bed. That was Dean's bed, apparently. The three couldn't bunk, as their massive frames would likely break the bunk beds.  Therefore, there was four normal beds. That was fine. Dean was happy he wouldn't have to climb down and waste his limited energy on getting down from the bed in the morning. That meant he could do more things in a day, since the weakest link was always the stupid or slow one. In this case, He was the slow one. That was not a good thing.

Brutus didn't seem to care, as he followed Dean over and sat on the bed across from him. He was looking Dean over, and clearly had some questions.

"For a guy yer height... Something feels 'ff. You looked tired when you got in here. Orientation ain't but a small walk away. I ain't one to fight when a guy doesn't want to tell. You seem... well, a bit too weathered for the trip."

Dean sighed. At least this conversation was happening at the start. This could've happened in the middle of a battle, which would have been a bother. This happening at the start meant that they weren't idiots. At least, Brutus wasn't. Angro likely ntoiced, which is why he's so dismayed at working with Dean.

"I have a weak lung and I smoke. Smoking keeps my head clean. Physical Activity is not something I'm good at. However, I assure you, if you protect me I can help you."

He hid the fact that he had just started smoking. There was no point in telling them.

"So, what you're saying is use the bulk we have, and the brain you have, to beat any grimm?"

He nodded, "And any human/Fanus/Android" He spoke those slashes as though it were a casual conversation. To him, strategic talk was the norm. It was his casual conversation. unlike Brutus, who was a sort of casual guy, Dean was the type to always be thinking. Especially back then, when he was in a dangerous position, with the chance of his time here going terribly being high.

"So, I hate to ask, but since Dusty over there is a fanus, how do you feel about them?"

"They're the same as the rest. Engineered to fight by evolution, and can likely destroy me in one on one combat. If you're asking if I have bias, I do not. I have no reason to."

Dusty perked up at that notion. Apparently, the big guy had some bad memories, and that it's the reason he didn't greet Dean on his way in. Dean respected that, I never did ask about what happened to the big guy. Never came up, and Dusty never brought it up. The two rarely spoke in the first place. Neither willing to ask made it all the easier to not talk about it.

Shortly after this, the school he went to decided to have spars. The team who went undefeated would be considered top tier. It was bargaining rights more than anything. That meant that once Dean's team stomped through their opponents... it was up to him to do the same to his own opponent. That was not an easy feat when you were already tired from the walk over, not to mention physical combat was a pain. Not mentally, but physically. Even if he didn't get hit, his undiagnosed condition made things much harder.

That, however, didn't stop him from stopping outside the arena and smoking a cigarette.  It calmed his nerves, but made his tired side all the more apparent. All that mattered, though, was that his mind was clear.  He went in after finishing his smoke. He hadn't the time to research these guys, nor the energy.  That wouldn't stop him from winning. Not if he had any choice in the matter, and sorrily for the opponent he did.

Things went as expected. His team smashed through the competition on their end. That meant they were one of the two possible undefeated teams. That also meant that the other team was mentally prepping. Dean had to call a break and sit outside for a minute and lit up a smoke. Brutus came out and had something to say.

"So. You're up next. Any reason you're not in there, prepping for the fight?"

"Can't. Wouldn't have the energy to fight. I smoke to be sure I can end it in one shot. I don't actually have to end this fight with literal combat. I can just make him surrender."

Brutus raised his eyebrow but shrugged. He offered to carry Dean in. Dean accepted this, as Dean had a plan. Make them underestimate him even farther. It'd all work in the end. The sinister smile that was on his face as he was carried in worried some, but his opponent was steeled. Steeled wasn't quite the right word. Isn't the right word. His opponent was the same type as him, the planning type. That meant both were in and out of their element at the same time. Two planners going up against the other? That was excitement for most, a pain for the planners.

Dean went in with a plan. After being placed down, in the sparring area, by Brutus he feigned pain getting up. Well, feigning was a long shot. There was some pain. Just not enough for him to actually show it. Everyone thought that this was an open and close match. Even the teachers thought so. It was going to be a stomp. Dean would lose in a quick and disappointing match. They didn't realize that it would be quick and disappointing for the opponent, not for Dean. Dean continued to feign pain as he dug a dagger out of his boot.

"It's a shame you already lost. You seemed like a good opponent."

His opponent sneered and glared at Dean.

"What do you mean? It looks to me that you're already beaten yourself."

"Really, it's a shame. You train constantly and I'm guessin that the stomach and rib injury that your hiding was supposed to be a secret? I might be weak, but my weaknesses are at least hidden."

His opponent's reslove steeled even farther. Good, that was the plan.

"You're weak? You admit that? I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work!"

Those were the final words before the spar started. Before his opponent could move, Dean teleported in and aimed an elbow at his opponents ribs. When the opponent went for the block, Dean teleported behind his opponent and put them in a chokehold, with his legs around the ribs of his opponents. This wasn't an actual chokehold. It was a game of applying pressure to the already injured ribs to make the man cry mercy.  

The man tapped out shortly after. Dean, however, was about ready to tap himself. His teammates came and lifted him up. They were undefeated. Even Dean, the weak one, beat his opponent! It was a wonderful spectacle, but Dean couldn't walk without pain for the rest of the day, so he spent most of it talking to Brutus and co.

After this event, he joined the body improvement club, which brought his body to a decent, but still weak, form.

The Incident that almost cost Dean his life; to some that did cost him his life:

Dean has a certain knack. This knack is barely surviving when he really shouldn't. That introduction spar, in this case. Unnerving the opponent with a casual observation. That works quite well against most.  Even the most steeled opponents have a breaking point. A breaking point that not everyone can reach safely. Dean has a knack for choosing proper opponents and proper aims. Things that make it easier to manipulate people. There are few that he can't. It's like he can read minds.

Sadly, he can not read minds. That'd be a great power to have, but teleportation is good enough for someone like Dean. Allows him to dodge and run if things get a bit too hairy. It was two years later when he was 17. His body was at its peak condition. This was as good as he was going to be.  He had been given a chance by that Body Improvement Club.  Therefore, all the members got a pass by him. A chunk of the members happen to be his teammates, but that had nothing to do with his choice to do whatever it was he wanted to do. He just wanted to live at the time. That club was making it possible to do so.  That club was the reason he was still around. Dean and his team were still top tier. They always would be. It was a perfect storm. Muscle and brains; power and the willingness to do basically anything to win. Those two things are what made the team a terrifying prospect.  

The three could probably reign as one of the top teams by themselves, but with Dean there, he was the great leader to the others less than stellar qualities of the others.

They were staged in a small village. There was three men in massive plate mail and then there was Dean. Standing there in a
RP Sample:
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