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Cad Murray Synclair

"Shadows of the past reflect each and every decision up to now. They give us knowledge, and sometimes serve as a physical boundary within which we must paint."

0 · 420 views · located in Planeta Tierra

a character in “Dreams Within Eden”, as played by Centi85


Cad Murray Synclair


Role: Eldorado
Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Caddy (affectionately by those close), Sir/Mr. Synclair (fellow scholars, as well as students, etc) – Prefers just Synclair
Gender: Male
Age: 62
Love Interest: The infinite amount of knowledge capable of being extracted from archives of written and oral documentation

Height: 5'10"
Weight: 153
Build: Tall, Slim
Eye Color: Light blue
Hair Color: Once a silk-like almond brown, now turned a pure snowy white
Scars/Tattoos/Piercings: None

Description: Synclair stands with an enlightened, well-learned stance. Never one to sulk in the shadows or sully his robes with wrinkles, the man maintains an elegant, professional posture with an erect back and squared shoulders. Though he doesn’t necessarily possess a fighter’s physique, he is slim and wears muscle where it matters; the constant lifting of heavy objects during experimentation and a healthy diet ensuring he stay as physically fit as he can achieve with such a passive lifestyle.

Well groomed, the man’s gently aged face is framed by a cascade of pure white, which flows down into a luscious mustache and beard, contributing to his overall appearance of the cliché scholar. Belying his looks, Synclair’s eyes still hold the shimmering, curious gaze of a child. Colored a soft hue of blue to match the endless beauty of the sky, the man’s eyes reveal as much as one could want to know about him. Forever young and inquisitive, and not at all a man who has anything to hide, despite time’s toll, there can always be some sort of glimmer to be found within his eyes.

Overall, Synclair exudes a radiant air of knowledge and confidence, as well as the care-free, accepting and open demeanor the child he is at heart. Always with a jaunty gait the man strides, and rarely will one find him without a warm, welcoming smile creasing his bearded lips.

Preferred Clothing: Synclair dresses to match his lifestyle. Clad in a thick set of soft blue robes outlined a darker shade of blue with a gold trim just on the edges, his attire is fairly straightforward and plain; modest dress for a modest man. Never a man to conform to “in-style” fashion choices, Synclair prefers practicality over popularity. Topped off with a matching hat which resembles very much what a graduate would wear, as well as a sort of cape draped over both shoulders and secured via a stretch of gold band, he looks very much like how any learned man would be portrayed. Strangely enough, even when tinkering with his experiments, Synclair can almost always maintain a clean physical appearance.

Oddities: While the Synclair is a literal treasure-trove of facts, both useful and merely ‘good-to-knows’, the man’s overwhelming knowledge can prove to be a great downfall. Often he will over-think a situation and stymie himself, his cluttered mind overlooking the simple solutions in exchange for the elaborate reasoning he’s come to expect. In addition to spending too much time contemplating what isn’t necessary, in any less than hospitable situations, be it a paper cut which could potentially become infected with a horrific virus, or a stubbed toe which swelled and that could be either just a natural response or grotesque virus, Synclair, knowing well the abilities and repercussions of most weapons, toxins and other mishaps, will often scare himself into a sort of petrified state. Obviously this can be entirely debilitating, and often results in the worst case-scenario if the situation requires immediate treatment. Synclair also has a tendency to faint in stressful situations.
Most importantly, Synclair is not unlike other people. He can get bored, and like a child, enjoys reenacting documented tests when strange results were recorded, or forming his own hypotheses, leading to experimentation. The spawn of said inquiries can range from miniature explosions which leave the man covered in a hardy layering of soot, or a new-found discovery pertaining to how one can cook eggs, or even the medical implementations of a berry. Suffice to say, results may vary, and the man always carries a small field-journal within which he records everything

Skills: Synclair is particularly good at maintaining information. Be it through means of a fast-study technique, or allowing himself to immerse entirely into a topic and soak, rarely does anything escape the steel-fact-trap that is his mind.

Synclair has a very debilitating fear of injury or sickness.
+ Reading, Writing, Learning and Teaching
+ Silence
+ Nature
+ Some forms of soft, calming music
+ Restoring/translating old texts
+ Experimenting
+ Harmless Pranks/Friendly jokes
- Vandals and overall disrespectful people
- Untidiness
-War/Violence of any kind

Hobbies: If Synclair is dedicated 110% to his studies, then he is also just as devoted to his teachings and counseling of others. When the man isn’t reading, experimenting or writing, he is sharing his knowledge with anyone who would listen. For reasons both to teach and to give guidance, the man would gladly sit with someone to enlighten them, or to help them negotiate whatever troubles they may be facing. If Synclair cannot find a soul to share his time with, he does enjoy going for silent walks, observing nature (what’s left of it), and taking samples of random objects for diagnosis of possible undiscovered potential.
Synclair also enjoys stroking his beard simply because he can. You would too if you had one.

Personality: Synclair is a cheerful man with a gregarious demeanor. Greeting everyone with a pleasantly warm smile and hardy handshake, the man welcomes encouragingly whoever would seek out his guidance. While he is old, he is a child at heart, and enjoys talking with others and teaching them, and would gladly put aside his books for a moment in order to aid a friend, as well as indulge in a bit of harmless tom-foolery. A faithful companion, the man can see the light at the end of almost every tunnel, the sadness in the happiest smile, and pain and agony behind the coldest eyes. Having no children or family of his own, Synclair enjoys the company of anyone willing to spend time with him, particularly the refreshing, imaginative minds of the youth. The man revels in the vast, unhindered thought process of the young, and is an easy conversationalist in the discussion of new ideas, opinions, or simple small-talk.

Preferred Weapon: Although Synclair has never shot any kind of firearm, he carries with him a simple revolver of unique and exquisite craftsmanship. Made with a polished steel barrel, cylindrical chamber, receiver, hammer and trigger guard, and with the grip being an intricately carved ivory, it appears as if practicality would have it sit in a display case, rather than in a leather holster beneath the robes of a scholar.

Fighting Style: Throughout his studies, Synclair has secured knowledge on many subjects, including the various types of warfare and the tactics which are employed. Capable of assessing situations quickly and, most importantly, accurately, the man will often reference other times when these scenarios were enacted, and how they were effectively combated. Of course, despite this close to infinite knowledge, the man has had no real experience with which he can compare to the texts he’s read. Most of what he knows, while factual in most senses, is also old and vastly hypothetical, rarely accounting for the unknown variables which thrive in stressful situations.

Relationship Status: Single
Family: Synclair has never yet mentioned his family, though no one has ever asked.
Personal History/Background: For a man who has devoted his life to studying the past in order to gain knowledge and progress into the future, he rarely speaks of his own experiences beyond what most people would already know. This isn’t to say that he has anything to hide, but rather he doesn’t have anything particularly interesting to share. If one should ask, he would indeed be more than happy to enlighten any inquisitor, but the story would be far less adventurous and miraculous than most would expect.

Synclair grew up a simple and modesty lifestyle. Always a lover of knowledge, while the other children were out doing what children do, Synclair was inside reading and studying. Soaking up everything he learned like a sponge, he advanced quickly beyond his colleagues. His rise to where he is now was just as uneventful, though far more satisfying than most others, taking place primarily within texts, tinkering and experiments, and eventually leading him into the co-op and discovery of this wondrous new, yet old, inhabitable city.

Upon further investigation, the man soon stumbled upon a book containing a vast collection of knowledge to be tapped, pertaining entirely to Eden. Thoroughly intrigued and engrossed in the riches that once were, the man has now devoted his life to passing on and preserving his knowledge. Serving several purposes, being a teacher allows Synclair to enlighten the minds of the future generation, keep his own mind sharp, and grant him access to the brilliance of the prodigy he’s yet to stumble upon that he could ultimately bestow his projects and work. While he is certain he could at least start in his endeavors to restore Eden, by no means could he achieve such a feat in this life time, especially with the recent developments in government instability.


So begins...

Cad Murray Synclair's Story


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#, as written by Centi85



5.4… Cad sat back now in his worn leather chair, the old piece of furniture creaking slightly under his weight. Shifting to one side and placing his elbow on the armrest, the man propped his chin on one hand, while his other grasped firmly a scribbled note which read merely ‘5.4.’ For several moments the man stared at the stained paper and its cryptic message, every now and again rotating it, holding it to the light, and even once pressing it against his forehead as if he could absorb the knowledge through osmosis; it didn’t work.

Cad heaved a heavy sigh as he set the paper down, then adjusted himself to sit up straighter in his chair. While a few moments of off-centered weight distribution on his spine wouldn’t misalign it, the man would take no chances. A misalignment could lead to various other health issues, not to mention the slim possibility in which he would contract chronic back pains from an unknown family history branch he’d yet to explore. That wouldn’t be fun. One can get laughed at for the simplest things, and one shoulder being higher than the other… Well, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but what if Cad broke the arm which was being held above the other, and then had to reach a top shelf, but couldn’t because his only remaining arm in working condition was just shy of the necessary length due to his spine being off-center? Worse yet, then if he went to have it realigned at a chiropractors, he’d have to keep ice on while his body re accustomed itself to having his spine back in place. Cad would then have to deal with a broken arm, the inability to reach a top shelf in order to possess what could be of vital importance like a fruit cake or elixir, and be out of commission further for the thirty minute increments in which he’d be bed-ridden; left to lie on his stomach while ice assuaged the inflamed muscles around his spine. In addition, while being bed ridden and because he wouldn’t be able to reach that fruit cake or elixir, he could be experiencing even more discomfort on top of everything else. That elixir might have been a muscle relaxant, and the fruitcake was simply for the pure enjoyment of eating something while lying in bed. Or it could’ve been a book.

Cad could suddenly sat straight up, dropping the paper as he placed both feet firmly on the floor and erected his back fully, pushing his chest out and bringing his shoulders back like a soldier at attention. Reaching behind himself, the man used his index and middle finger to gently trace his spine. He was no doctor, but he could assess most situations fairly accurately. As far as the treatment, however, that he could leave to the professionals. Carefully the man felt the bump of each vertebra, then put both hands on each shoulder, his head pivoting to look at both to ensure they were of equal height.

With a relieved sigh, the man allowed himself to slump back in his chair and relax.

A moment later the man sat straight again, both because he knew that even that action could cause him to acquire a hunch, and also because he’d just had an epiphany. Reaching down and retrieving the note he’d dropped previously, the man scrambled to his feet and shuffled across his little room.

A simple man, Cad’s place of dwelling was nothing elaborately special, nor was it at all normally special. In fact, despite his esteemed position, he lived no better or worse than anyone else. His house consisted merely of a small hallway which served as the foyer for most buildings, decorated with a rug laden with a pair of shoes, one pair of boots, and which read ‘Welcome’, as well as a coat rack, small table and containment unit for umbrellas, and that branched off in two directions. To the left was a kitchen which remained mostly unused as Cad preferred purchasing food as needed, and then going through it while he worked, and to the right was the man’s room which branched off again into a place where one could void themselves.

Cad’s rarely slept in his house, however. Late nights working often caused the man to spend his hours in his office, and on one occasion, while the man was tinkering with the volatility of blursoberries when heated and mixed with a special chemical, the lack of a roof was reason enough for him to search out a more suitable refuge. As much as he enjoyed observing the stars and being able to get fresh air, the man’s bed was reduced to little more than a wooden skeleton adorned with springs and layered in ash, soot, and some stuffing.

As it was now, however, the man’s room was newly furnished. Simple and tasteful, he owned simply a bed where the sheets were made-up utilizing a specialized system of measurements in accordance to how the man slept so that he wouldn’t drag them to one side or throw them off entirely during his R.E.M-cycles, a table with a lamp, a large bookshelf, a pile of surplus books in front of the bookshelf, his chair which he’d somehow wheeled over to his bed, and a larger work-table covered extensively in papers, test-tubes, beakers and other such instruments. Cad made for this station and set the paper down, hell-bent on discovering its untapped secrets if it was the last thing he did.

After about ten minutes the man finally gave up, content with the fact that the note was written simply on a sleep-deprived whimsy. That completed, the man decided he may as well ready himself for what other conundrums and challenges the day had in store for him. Besides, he had a class today. Of course he could allow himself a day off, and the students no doubt wouldn’t mind, but who would gain from such a display of disregard for the nurturing of the next generation. Certainly they won’t.

Adjusting his robes, the man stuffed the little note into his pocket, gathered up his necessary books and work plans, then headed out his door.