My Name Is: Phineas Phillip "Finn" Oliver
I Am This Old: Seventeen
Sexuality: Pansexual. I try not to confine myself to a specific gender identity.
This Is My Power: Cloaking. It's quite tricky, so allow me to explain it in layman's terms. I have the ability to 'hide things', which means I can make anything (or anyone) disappear and reappear with a simple hand gesture and a lot of willpower. Except really big things, like a mountain. Or an entire building. I can't hide large crowds of people either. When it comes to living objects, the most I can 'cloak' are about six to eight before things start to get wonky and parts begin to show.
For now, I only know two ways to cloak things: partially, and completely. Partial Cloaking is pretty much making things invisible. You can't see it, but it's there. It's tangible. You can touch it, feel it, trip over it, but you can't see it. This, I can do easily. The other one? Not so much. Cloaking things completely means making things disappear. You can't touch it, you can't feel it, and you definitely can't see it because it's just not there. I don't know where it goes, and I personally don't want to find out, but I can make it reappear again! Most of the time. As you've probably guessed, this is pretty hard to do. I've only tried it on smaller objects, like an apple, or a block. I takes a lot of focus, and even more energy, so it'll probably take some time before I can even attempt this with animals, let alone people.
Likes: Science! And reading mystery novels. I also like cooking, knitting (don't judge me), Tarantino movies, tinkering with machines (especially old ones), and music, in general (I can play four instruments).
Dislikes: Pressure, getting hurt, cats (I'm ailurophobic), people who ask too many questions (especially ones I can't answer), hot weather, not knowing what to do, and cauliflowers.
Fears: Let's see, being left alone (I have slight abandonment issues), someone I love dying because of me, rejection...but my greatest fear has to be hiding something valuable (like people!) and losing it forever.
I'm Told I'm... Boring, judgmental, an arrogant sunovabitch, a smart-ass, and my personal favorite, 'Goddamn asshole!'. Honestly, I'm not a very likable person, and though it hurts me to admit it, everything they say about me is true. Except the boring part. I think I'm interesting enough, and I'm totally fun to be around with. They're just saying that because they're too far down the intelligence scale to appreciate true brilliance (Haha!). Agree or die.
...Sorry. I forgot. I'm also prone to narcissism. And hypocrisy. Maybe it's because I like myself too much, which is synonymous to having an ego larger than life itself. This is also one of the reasons why people don't like me. But it's not my fault! I just can't help it. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful.
Say whatever you want about me, but don't ever call me heartless. I may not give a shit about most things, but when I care about something, I will do just about anything to protect it. Anything. And I'm not a quitter. That's one of my strong points. I'm a resilient cookie, and it takes a lot for me to give up. And I can be pretty nice, I guess. I've never turned down anyone in need, so that's a plus. And I do have friends. Just, not a lot. I don't feel the need to surround myself with too many people, but I can't help but cling to those that I do. I don't know why. I'm just...terrified at the thought of being alone.
This Is What I've Been Through: I was born in Geneva, Switzerland. My father was Dr. Salvatore Oliver, an Italian-English physicist who specialized in particle physics (You might've heard of him. He won a Nobel Prize), and my mother was Dr. Philippa Fletcher, who was both a physicist, an engineer and, well, English (You might've heard of her, too. She helped build the LEP). Anyway, they both worked for CERN; met there, fell in love there, and conceived their first and only child (Me) in an empty conference room above the control room (Or so I was told...). I don't remember much about them, except that my mother often used to sing to me when I was young. See, they died a few months after my first birthday. I don't know the exact nature of their death, except that it somehow involved some seriously brilliant plans, a jealous co-worker, and a handgun.
Since I had no other family members to speak of, I was brought into the care of my godfather, Dr. Peter Hyland, aka Dad; also a physicist, and my birth father's best friend. He adopted me and raised me like his own. He loved me to the point that he actually spoiled me. He even gave me my nickname, Finn (My parents called me Phineas, which I hate, so don't call me that). Dad almost always took me to work with him, and would often hand me to whoever was free if things got busy in the labs, so I was basically co-raised by a bunch of genius-level, mostly egocentric scientists in the world's largest particle physics laboratory. I think I turned out well.
My life pretty much consisted of immaculate lab coats, particle accelerators, and gummi bears (Who knew scientists were so fond of sweets?). That is, until I turned fifteen. That's when all the weird things started happening. Things would start disappearing whenever I was present, only to reappear again when I left. No one noticed at first, until one day, I walked inside the living room and the television disappeared when I walked past it. Dad was, needless to say, baffled by the whole thing, especially when I walked back and the television reappeared as if nothing had happened. It was like magic, except it wasn't. It was me.
Fortunately enough, my Dad had a friend who worked for some supposedly secret government facility in the US that specialized in these kinds of things, and immediately contacted him about it. By that point, I was already starting to test my new found skill by attempting to make the sofa disappear. I wasn't quite as surprised about everything as I should've been, but my dad, well, let's just say he was borderline hysterical. Dad's friend arrived at our doorstep three days later with a proposal: That I come with him to their facility in the US so that I could learn how to put a leash on my...abilities. Dad, of course, refused, terrified at the thought of me being so far away from home, especially in that condition. But, with a great deal of reasoning, we were able to convince him to let me go.
I learned a lot in that facility; for instance, they taught me how to hide larger objects and, eventually, live specimens. I stayed there for a little over two years, which was more than enough time for me to adapt to the American way of life. I learned how to speak with an authentic American accent, though I still use my native English one whenever I'm outside the US, and altered my mannerisms to fit theirs. Don't ask why. It's just a little something I used to do back when I was little; All the scientists at CERN came from different backgrounds and varied in nationality, so I used to try mimic them to pass the time.
Anyway, after my little stint in America, I immediately flew back to Geneva to show my dad what I'd achieved. He was quite pleased with everything, but was mostly just happy to have his son back. By then, most of the scientists at CERN already knew of my condition, and some were eager to experiment with my abilities. Dad was a little apprehensive at first, but gave in nonetheless. All in the name of science, right? So, that's been my life so far. All I've been doing since then are testing, testing, and more testing, mostly by me. The other scientists help from time to time, which is great. Now we're just observing the movements of atoms whenever I try cloaking something. Hopefully, it'll shed some light on the exact nature of my abilities.
Anything Else You Might Need To Know: I was raised in Switzerland by an Englishman, so I'm unsurprisingly fluent in German, French, and English, as well as having some knowledge over other European languages. Also, I make a mean soufflรฉ and own a dog named Byron.