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 SCOTT SUMMERS - andrew cooper.

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Date d'inscription : 17/12/2009
Age : 21
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MessageSujet: SCOTT SUMMERS - andrew cooper.   Mar 27 Nov - 15:14

1. Character you’re applying for: Scott 'Slim' Summers (Cyclops)

2. Personal Tumblr url (-> not RP URL): http://water-and-pastels.tumblr.com/

3. How did you find us? Who recommended us?: My friend was looking for a good marvel rp and was smitten by yours. She's the one applying for Emma. (:

4. Introduce yourself: You can call me F (or asdfghjkl, either, I don't mind). I'm a sixteen year old guy and I currently live in Asia. I've loved comic books since I started reading them when I was ten, and even though I felt Avengers vs. X-Men and the whole All-New X-Men series a bit over the top and unrealistic, I don't plan on giving up on the X-Men franchise anytime soon. (: And, yeah, though Scott's not my favorite Marvel (or comic book) character, there's something that makes me want to play him over and over again. xD

5. Your Timezone/Where you’re from: Hong Kong (GMT+Cool

6. Which Verse you’re using: I'd like to go for an "Astonishing X-Men" take on Cyclops, so after the death of (his) Jean Grey in New X-Men and the beginning of his blossoming relationship with Emma Frost.

7. A short summary of the character her/himself to show that you have suitable knowledge: The first thing you need to know about Scott Summers is the fact that no matter what he thinks of himself, it couldn't be further away from reality. Whether it be too highly or poorly, he seems to suffer from a complex which heightens his senses and, unfortunately, exaggerates his opinions of himself. He is thus at times overconfident, at others, a hopeless shipwreck of insecurities and fears. Very perceptive to the world around him, he has a quick reaction speed and always, always takes in whatever he can from his external surroundings. Whether it be the scenery and the actions his optic-beaming eyes register or the ways others tend to look at him, and speak of him. Having been brought up in a world that, as he would say 'feared and hated' him, he has been forced to become overly cautious, always thinking twice before doing actions, and never losing sight of the consequences of his eventual actions.

Unfortunately, Scott 'Slim' Summers isn't the robotic and logical boy-scout others have painted him to be over the years. Well, he is. But only if you look at the surface. Underneath all of that facade lies a heart, eternally-effervescing blood as well as something called intuition and emotions. When those take over his mind, his brain is unable to function correctly and he may take rash or extreme courses of actions because of how affected by the question he truly is. For instance, do you think he had entirely thought through his telepathic affair with Emma Frost? That it had all been calmly and silently mapped out in his mind and that he had only waited for the opportune moment to make his move? I'll call your bluff, because I know he wasn't. He's my friend. He would have told me. That was one of the rare moments when Scott's clouded thoughts allowed his feelings to get the better of him and to guide his soul down a path which would reap havoc and destruction along the way.

Some may argue that he is overtly harsh and arrogant at times. Truly, this is because his innate leadership skills push him to always think into the foreseeable future and to prepare for a plan B in case something were to disrupt the natural order of things. If he seems high and all-mighty, it's because he knows in his heart that his solution is the quickest, most-effective and least risky there is. His leadership skills bathe him in an aura of undisputed power which may intimidate some, attract others and irritate a select few who have already seen men like him and are afraid that what he means is trouble, and nothing else.

For if Scott Summers is unaware of his own potential and capacity at most times, his having grown up without his birth parents has turned him into a fragile, egocentric being who tends to relish at the idea that he will play a pivotal role in the future. Savior of the brave and the bold, mutant icon trying to make the world a better place for all his peers ... Those are notions that linger around the darkest corners of his soul and make him smile in his dreams. Sure, he is altruistic to an extent and has an understanding of selflessness, sacrifice and good that is are more than satisfactory. On the other hand, he has grown to be ambitious, and overtly-so, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals, the only barrier of ethics occasionally standing between him and his ideals. But Scott Summers truly and deeply wants to shape the world in his own, unique way. And maybe he will. Just maybe, if he believes in it strong enough. The dangerous thing about this is that he always seeks power. Control. Superiority, in a sense.

And as everyone knows, power corrupts.

8. A short summary of the characters background to show that you have suitable knowledge: Born in Anchorage, Alaska, Scott was the elder son of three, born to Katherine Anne and Major Christopher Summers. Living the idealistic and somewhat simple American - OK, Alaskan - dream for what seemed like the happiest years of his life, he couldn't have predicted that things would take an impromptu sour turn when his father's private plane was intercepted by the Shi'ar and the Summers family was forever broken. Christopher, Katherine Anne and his younger brother, Gabriel, were abducted by these aliens while Scott managed to escape with his youngest brother, Alexander, by parachute. Upon reaching the ground, however, Scott fell head-first to the ground, causing a concussion as well as future complications once his mutant powers developed - at least, that's what I seem to have understood from his drunken explanations during Happy Hour.

He was then placed in an orphanage, in Nebraska, where he saw his brother for the last time, effectively losing all family ties he had just a few months prior. After having been experimented upon by Nathaniel Essex -Mister Sinister - for a few years, he ran away, at the age of fifteen, in the search of a better life and a brighter future than the guinea-pig life that Sinister had charted for him. He was eventually located by mutant telepathic powerhouse professor Charles Xavier, who served as the first true role model and father figure in his orphan's life. Serving him as his first ever X-Men, "Cyclops" - a name derived by the ruby quartz visor that was designed specifically for him - he agreed to follow his new mentor and assist him so long as Xavier would in turn help him in controlling his intimidating and inextinguishable optic beams. Unfortunately, his abilities came with a compromise: that no one, including himself, would ever be able to look him in the eyes - even to see their color - and live to tell the tale.

That's when the oh so sacred Jean Grey came along and they played a beautifully long game of cat and mouse, eventually resulting in him loving the Phoenix Force which posed as her, mourning the Phoenix Force when it sacrificed itself, marrying a clone of her created by Essex, who believed Scott to be the purest pedigree specimen of the mutant species, abandoning his cloned wife and baby boy once he found out that the woman who qualified as the love of his life was actually not dead, but trapped in a cocoon - no, I' m not making this up - underwater. Eventually, he married her, and they lived happily ever after-ish. That's when the first-born mutant, Apocalypse, decided it was long overdue for him to possess Scott and clouded his thoughts and soul for the months that would follow this possession. Post-traumatic disorder, as you may say.

Life seemed normal for once - albeit for his non-existing marriage save for the certificate with the Phoenix Force host - until a destructive ball of disorder and chaos emerged, seemingly out of nowhere ... Sole survivor of the island-nation Genosha, I present to you Emma Frost. The finest woman I have ever seen. Ooooh, yes. Anyways. Chance and meticulous planning from the blonde's part involved in Cyclops seeing more and more of her, and less and less of his wife. Attracted by the harsh, cold and frigid attitude the ice queen seemed to use as a life motto as well as by the fact that she made him feel like a teenager again, desired and needed, he eventually succumbed to her advances. His wife found out, a huge marital dispute ensued leading into the tragic - and memorable, yet forgettable, in a way - death of Jean Holy Grey. She will rise again. Amen. And now, Scott's banging that hot chick and I'm still alone. Moral of the story? His life's a novel, his love life sucks, and he's an ass for getting so much action when I'm just as deserving as he is. But oh well. Life is life, isn't it? And we all get as much as we can handle.

Which proves that Scottie-boy is a pretty robust young - well, not so young, anymore, but still, relatively speaking - thing, if he could live through all of those breathtaking adventures and survive to tell me the tale.

9. A short Paragraph of the Character:

"Hi Jean." I attempted to smile, a useless gesture that resulted into me wincing more than anything else. It had been six months. Exactly six months. And just like each of the previous ones, here I was ... To pay my respects. Because that had more weight now that she was dead then when she actually was still alive. Shaking my head in disbelief, I just stood there, in the warm end-of-winter-beginning-of-spring breeze, waiting for something to say ... Something to justify my actions. I don't recall ever apologizing to her now that she was gone. Usually, I just dropped down my bouquet and left. Not a bouquet of white roses, as Logan thought appropriate to do. When I came, it was always with a bouquet of twelve Summer Pheasant's Eye flowers ; flowers I had to travel halfway across the globe to find as they only grew in Europe - she didn't like the later varieties that had been planted in the States for a reason that I never quite understood, but had to respect, nevertheless. Twelve, because it had always been her favorite number. She thought that I never listened. That I didn't care. She never said so, because she loved me too much to put the blame on anyone else but herself ... But I wish she had known that I did pay attention. That I did care, in my own way. And part of me, a small part of me, likes to think that she did, because of that whole telepath-telekinetic thing she had going on ... Yet the part of me that puts the blame of her premature death on myself can't help but to find faults in my every behavior towards her. My duties as her lover. My failures as her husband. My absences as her best friend, when she most needed me for help and guidance ...

How could something so perfect end up going so wrong ?

My teeth gripping into my lower lip as hers had done so many times before, I stared down in shame. The things she must think of me. The things she would yell at my face if she were still here ... But she doesn't think anything of me, does she? And she wouldn't even have the energy to say anything anymore if Magneto hadn't destroyed all that was left of her after my betrayal. She was like that. Strong and fragile. Vulnerable, malleable steel. Always ready to act out when she saw something she was convinced was wrong, never capable of acting out against the ones she loved when they did something she knew was wrong to her ... She had always been above all the pettiness and futility of life, and I guess that that's where I lost her, somewhere down the line. At first, it was us, just us ... Happy, carefree, young. Married. I'd never actually thought that we'd have ended up married when we were just teenagers playing "who can blush the most" between Xavier's classes and training sessions ... And then, I got overwhelmed, felt underwhelmed, my whole world shifted upside down as I lived in the shadow of what could arguably be the most formidable women to have laid her mark on the world as we know it. The bravest hero I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was always concerned with the bigger picture, eventually too occupied to even notice that the smaller one was ripping at the seams ... And Emma came in with her rolls of magic tape and her garters. To fix what had been broken, to sew what had unraveled, to fill in the gaps of a shattered glass.

Bowing down to pay my respects to the fallen hero, the brightest star that, according to the norm, did burn out first. As my bare fingers reached to dig into the grass surrounding her final resting place, my right hand gently levered the bouquet to the grave that now served the purpose of her humble abode, now, incidentally pushing away Logan's tacky white roses towards the edge of the cold, marble stone. A stone that sent shivers through my spine as it only reminded me how fiery she used to be, when the Phoenix lived inside of her ... How warm her skin was, when we used to touch, how feverish she felt when we made love ... How her laugh used to lighten up my mood instantly and cast away all of my inner demons, like a magic spell ... And then, En Sabeh Nur took over and my inner demons devoured her poor spirit instantly. And instead of fighting back, she stopped fighting altogether. I think that she was trying to give me more room to breathe, more freedom ... Or maybe she knew in her heart that it wouldn't last.

But I honestly thought that we would be forever.

The wind howled in my ears, brushing through my hair and nibbling at my scarf. I couldn't remember why I had worn the dreadful thing in the first place: winter was nearing to an end, and it wasn't that cold, anymore ... Still, it flew in the breeze as chills ran through my spine. I knew that she was waiting for me. To talk. To say ... something. And as much as I had run away from this moment, it was unfair for me to postpone it any longer.

"I, um ..." Clearing my throat to ensure that my words would come out as clearly as I intended them to, I deeply hoped that none of the students were skipping Emma's ethics class to witness just how kooky the Headmaster was, talking to a tombstone. "I just wanted to say that I miss you."

The words ripped through my vocal chords as they came out, the pain I had suppressed this long finally leaving the bottomless pit that my heart had become to reach her un-hearing ears. The silence had now become oppressing as the wind stopped yelping in my ears, too interested in the final words I had to tell my wif ... My deceased wife. I knew that what I was doing then was unfair to Emma ... But what I did with Emma was unfair to her, so I guess this was just Karma getting it's way around everything. Did this make me a horrible person? To both of them, possibly. But truly, this was simply me trying to do right by my wife, after the incredible amount of wrong I had been able to inflict upon her without ever having the opportunity of taking the slightest scrap of it away.

Solemnly, my gaze stayed fixed upon my black shoes as i didn't dare to stare at the inscription I had chosen for her. "Jean Grey. She will rise again." Part of me couldn't wait for her to return ... While the other side of my soul wanted to move on, once and for all, scared of what might happen if she ever was to return. Alas, only time could tell. "Oh god, Jean ... What do you want me to say?" I hoarsely whispered. "That I'm sorry? We both know that's not enough. Too little, too late, right? What else do you want me to say, Jean? That I was wrong? We both know that's true." I felt mad. Hurt. Bitter. Angry. Torn. Upset. Broken and shattered, a mere reflection of the man I used to be ... So weak that I hadn't been able to stand up to myself and sort out the problems that I had with her and with our couple. And now, there weren't any problems left to solve, and I still felt the need to solve them. Or how to be a juvenile adult 101.

And this is probably the worst moment I ever had the un-pleasure of living through. One of the only times in my life where I actually felt low. Degraded. Worthless. That revealing moment where I realized that I had had everything, and that out of selfishness and the desire to explore different directions, I had tossed it all away. This was the first time where I actually noticed how small Jean made me by breathing by my side, every single night ... How powerful she was in comparison to my bleak weaknesses. Always so pulled-together. So professional, and serious ... Work first, talk later. Save the world now, argue later. Help the children first, converse later. She had always put others before ... And I realized that I was simply too selfish to be able to be content with that. I needed her. I needed someone who would be there for me ... Who could put me first, make me feel like I was the most important thing in their world, and that they needed me as much as I needed them. But that was impossible for Jean, because everyone always needed her so much. She was just that kind of girl. And I just wasn't that kind of guy.

And now, I was on my knees. And I'll never forget how difficult it was for me to utter these final words.

"I love you, Jean. You know I do. And I may have loved Emma, just a bit, towards the end ... And I may love her now, albeit in a different way ... Because you two are different, Jean. The sun and the moon. Fire and ice. (Surprisingly, both one and the other in different situations) Day and night. But I'll never forget how ..." choking on those final words, I eventually croaked "How happy you've made me and how ... " my voice trailed off at that instant, and I had to focus as hard as I could to regain enough sense and lucidity to breathe the end of my sentence : "How lost I am without you."

I had admitted it. Emma could make me happy, I knew she could. But Jean had been my everything for so long that the idea of going on without her was actually painful. Bowing my head towards her grave, I pressed my lips against the cool stone, barely containing the tears that desperately cried for an escape route out of my irritated eyes.

And that's when thunder rumbled through the sky as rain poured from the clouds.

10. Faceclaim for your Character: I don't know if you'd rather I used James Marsden, however, I would prefer to differ from the movie verse and to go for another celebrity whom I think looks just a Scott as Marsden (just, you know, a bit younger.) That's why I'd like to use Andrew Cooper, if that's okay with you.

11. Do you want to add something?: May the best Scott win? Other than that, I try to be social and a part of RP communities, but lately I'm having trouble fitting in, so, yeah. ^^" Thanks for your time and patience. (:
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SCOTT SUMMERS - andrew cooper.

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