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Theo Fidean

Do you believe in 'good-guys'?

0 · 332 views · located in The Library

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nemo

Groups

Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Theodore Fidean

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it."
(Mark Twain)


Image

Theo is a quiet boy, unnoticed at school and easy to lose in a crowd. His eyes, a soft shade of leafy hazel, are typically downcast and averted to some obscure object; with a mess of unkempt hair washed over his youthful face. His jaw is defined and handsome, though nothing exceptionally eye-catching. He stands at an average 6' and possesses a decent amount of muscle-mass, appearing generally fit though unimpressively athletic. Jutting along the insides of his hands where his fingers meet his palms are a collection of rough callouses, a testament to the brutal nature of his scarred history.

Abandoned by his father and raised by his mother, Theo's life has been a difficult journey. In his poverty, he took up work at an early age while still in school to help support his ailing mother, and learned many of life's lessons on the cold, harsh streets. The young man job-drifted for some time before finally settling down in an occupation he felt most comfortable with: mechanics. Theo continues to work part-time at his local auto-shop, displaying an impressive work-ethic and outstanding natural ability with machines.

Despite his callous upbringing, his mother talked with him every night, often reading him stories from fairy-tale books or ancient mythologies, teaching him about the importance of virtue and nobility. Even after his mother tragically passed away, Theo held her life-lessons close to his heart; swearing to live his life by a code of morality and chivalry.

With the death of his mother, Theo moved in with his neglecting uncle; a dead-beat alcoholic determined to live off of his dead sister's meager will. With his uncle refusing to have anything to do with him, Theo was very much on his own for his teen years; having only a bed to sleep in at night when the day was over. Living on the streets for a long portion if his life; Theo quickly learned how to fight (and occasionally, how to get his ass kicked). Amid the unsympathetic environment of his adolescence, Theo found his greatest solace in his daily readings. The youth had still kept all the fairy-tale stories and fable-books from his childhood... from 'Sleeping Beauty' to 'The Odyssey'. Whenever time would allow, a quick passage from one of the volumes in his backpack never failed to raise his spirits.

Theo was determined to honor his mother by finishing high school. While not the brightest scholar in the classroom, Theo tries his very best in his academics despite his tendency to be distracted easily. Scraping by with meager C's and B's in his classes, the young man's greatest intellectual capacity shines in his understand of the mechanics of machines and his uncanny ability to create. Theo loves working with tools and materials; constantly building and construction bigger and better inventions. He dreams of one day opening up his own auto-shop.

Still in love win Classicism and Romanticism, Theo continues to believe in the messages personified in his books. Honor, virtue, love, loyalty....

...and that good will always overcome evil in the end.

Equipment

Theo keeps a wide variety of tools and knick-knacks in his pockets, including:

-Am old, crinkled photo of himself and his mother, carefully laminated and protected.

-The keys to his beat-up Royal Enfield motorcycle. Theo has done extensive hand-work on the vehicle himself. While it doesn't look like much, it's extremely reliable.

-Wallet, complete with ID and anywhere between 10 and 50 credits.

-A small 'omni-tool', an invention of Theo's own creation. Roughly a foot long, Theo keeps it hooked on to his belt, often hiding it in his pants. The omni-tool works much like his pocket knife; a myriad of useful tools compacted and retracted into the device, accessed easily at any given moment. The omni-tool can retract a small wrench, screwdriver, hammer-head and a large knife.

-

So begins...

Theo Fidean's Story

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean sat quietly in the middle of third period english class, his chin rested on his stiff knuckles as his eyes wafted numbly to a nearby window.

"So as you can see class..." the teacher droned on in the backround, "...the moral strife between Macbeth and Macduff clearly personifies man's natural need to create gelatin sculptures out of monkey-feces using..." The voice of Theo's professor was white-noise to the day-dreaming student... his gaze fixated lovingly at on the fresh beams of golden sunlight cascading through the window. THAT'S where he ought to be. Out there. In the world, doing what he loved best. He wondered if he had enough time to finish that Yamaha FZ before the day ended...

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean snapped out of his trance instantaneously, his eyes flickering about the classroom nervously amid the quiet giggles and sneers of his classmates. There was nothing funnier then the embarrassing of another student... and Theo was regularly the punching-bag of many of his educators. His tendency to daydream during class didn't exactly keep him on his edge during lectures.

"Macbeth..." Theo muttered under his breath, racking his brain for the correct answer. Had this been any other book, perhaps Theo might have not known the answer. He had gotten lucky. Macbeth, among other books, was one of the many novels his mother had read to him in his youth. The boy struggled to recall the solution.

"...it was the prophecy, I think..." Theo scratched at the back of his head, "...yeah. Yeah the prophecy. Made by the Weird-Sisters. 'Beware Macduff. Beware the Thane of Fife.'" A tone of assurance entered his voice as Theo was slowly assured of his answer, "yeah, that was it. Macduff lost everything to Macbeth. His entire family was murdered. It was Macduff's passion... his pure drive to bring Macbeth to justice that allowed him to overcome the corruption of Macbeth in the end." Theo coughed. "Yeah, that was it."

A short silence followed as the class listened to Theo's sudden monologue with vague interest... before a particular individual sporting a letterman jacket in the back row sneezed into his jacket, the word 'loser' carefully masked into the action. Jeers and laughs followed. Theo sunk deeper into his seat, a shade of red washing over him. God... why had he gone so in-depth on his description? 'The Weird Sisters' would have sufficed...

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#, as written by Nemo
The letterman scowled in the back row, shooting Theo a dirty glare as he was suddenly called out by the teacher. Undoubtedly he blamed Theo for his sudden embarrassment... an action he fully intended to remind the young mechanic of the moment he caught him alone. As the faint snickering and laughs of adolescences died down, the class resumed.

One girl, however, was not laughing. Her pretty face was drawn up in an expression of thoughtful contemplation. Long, light-brown bangs hung above passionate green eyes; gazing at Theo with immediate intruige. Leaning out from her seat, the young girl touched Theo's arm tenderly.

"I didn't think it was a bad answer either," she whispered softly, offering the young mechanic a lovely smile.

"...oh..." Theo blushed even more brightly, "...thanks. It just... sorta' came t'me... I guess..." He stammered fruitessly. As if he didn't have a hard enough time at school as it was... talking to girls was near-impossible for the poor boy. And yet the green-eyed girl seemed not to mind, giggling cutely at Theo's obvious embarrassment, easing back into her seat with a smile.

Brrrriiiiinnnnnnnnggggggggg!!!

The bell rang loudly a few minutes later. English was over. Time for gym. Collecting his notes and backpack, Theo quickly attempted to rush out of the classroom, eager to get to his next period as quickly as possible.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean grunted as he was thrown to the ground, his heavy backpack following him as he sprawled across the floor. Looking up at the looming jock, the young mechanic offered the hulking boy a nervous smile. He needed to get out of this. Fast.

"I don't want trouble, man," Theo coughed, racking his brain for an idea that could offer him a hasty escape. Standing up and fighting the letterman wouldn't do any good. Even if he managed to win, he'd have the entire football team on his ass tomorrow.

"...although, if I could just make a suggestion..." Theo began slowly, "...beating the shit out of me would make us BOTH late for class, seeing as how gym starts in less then a minute. Also, seeing as how we have english, gym AND physics together, I happen to know that you've been late for all three at least once. According to school rules, a second tardy calls for a lunch-detention. A third for an in-class suspension." Theo winced painfully. He'd landed bad on his leg. "...now, do you REALLY want to spend Saturday's game in detention because you waisted three minutes of your life beating ME up?" He laughed nervously. "...frankly, I don't think I'm worth the time."

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean slammed up against the locker with a loud -thud-, the young boy clambering to the ground as he face met the dirty concrete below for the second time in the last minute. Ah well... at least the jock was gone. Slowly struggling to pick himself up, the young made a quick inventory of his belongings, checking every pocket and cranny in his jeans and jacket. Keys. Wallet. Omni-tool. Picture...

The young boy froze as he felt in his back pocket for his beloved photograph, gasping quietly as he noticed its absence with wide-eyed horror. Spiraling around, Theo was instantaneously relieved to find the picture off to his side, just beneath the dumpster. It must have fallen out when he had been thrown.

"Thank god..." he murmured to himself, tenderly collecting the laminated photograph with deep affection. He looked over it quickly, ensuring it was more-or-less intact, before returning it to his pants. From beyond the closed door, he could hear the sound of the school bell. Shit. He was late. Bringing himself to his feet, Theo made a sprint for gym class. Maybe Coach Gorekill wouldn't notice...

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#, as written by Nemo
"Sure thing, coach..." Theo gasped, quickly setting to work as he did the intended excersise. Although not the heaving slab of muscle Coach Gorekill was (or the football team for that matter), Theo was still in great shape. His physique was chiseled and toned, a careful balance of subtle strength and brute endurance. He'd be a killer cross-country runner or gymnast if he ever went out for sports. Work had made extra-curricular activities outside of school impossible for the young mechanic.

Despite his athleticism, Theo was quite winded after all was said and done. The young mechanic hit the showers with utter relief, ready to get through his last few periods, rush out of school and head down to the auto-shop.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean walked home with a slight slump in his posture, picking the few bits of trash out of jacket that he had missed earlier. He had just started down on the street from the school yard; the riddling banter of highschool adolescence still echoing not far behind him. He hadn't noticed the jocks yet as they strode menacingly towards him, his mind well occupied with the prospect of changing out the crankshaft and oiling the pistons on his latest project down at the Auto-Shop. Maybe he could re-wire the spark plug too... put a finish on the camshaft after he re-aligned those damn valves...

"Hey Theo," a soft, feminine voice suddenly called out behind him. The young mechanic jumped violently into the air at the sudden confrontation, immediately startled. No one FROM school ever talked to him OUTSIDE of school. And perhaps even more strange was just -who- it was that was talking to him. Turning slowly, Theo found himself face-to-face with the same girl from English class... her pretty face drawn up in an amused smile as she stared at him, the same pair of passionate green eyes staring out at him from behind flowing brown bangs.

"Hey!" Theo blurted all at once, "...yeah, hey! Sorry, I didn't see you come-... yeah. Didn't see it coming. You, I mean. Coming here. Like you did just now. I mean, I wasn't expecting it... is what I'm trying to say... yeah. It was just sort of unpexpected. That. I wasn't expecting something so unexpected, is what I mean to say-..." The young man sputtered to a halt, completely exhausted and spent of all ability to embarrass himself any longer. His shoulders drooped forward and he looked up at the girl with a humorous quirk of his brow. "...nice weather we've been having, huh?"

The girl, who had been looking at him this whole time with an insatiable grin, now broke into a fit of gigglish laughter, the sound of which somewhat heartened Theo. He had made a girl laugh (however unintentional). It felt good.

"You REALLY don't know how to talk to girl

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#, as written by Nemo
"You REALLY don't know how to talk to girls, do you?" she managed once her giggling had subsided.

"I guess I'm not... well-versed in that particular... um... subject..." Theo blushed, rubbing behind his neck thoughtfully.

"I can tell," she smirked playfully, "...although it's kinda cute, I guess."

"My insecurities are adorable, are they?" Theo rolled his eyes, "well, at least they're good for something..." She laughed again at that, the sound all the more pleasing to the young mechanic. At that moment, Theo discovered that there was hardly a greater feeling in the world then that of knowing that he'd just made a girl happy.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Get your hands OFF me!" the girl shouted as she was grabbed by the eager jock, struggling in vain against his massive grip. Theo stepped forward instantly, an entirely new appearance washing over him as the situation suddenly escalated. His jaw grit. His eyes glazed over in numb fury. Theo didn't mind getting his ass-kicked by a jock now and then. Pain was something he was used to. But he wasn't about to stand for HER getting caught up in all of this. Not for a second.

"Put her down," Theo commanded darkly, his voice quiet and low but full of steel, "...now." His eyes glanced between the lettermans. There were five of them. While Theo was a decent fighter having grown up on the streets his whole life... five against one was a hard match for any man to take on.

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#, as written by Nemo
The jock's blow was horribly telegrammed and easily read by the young mechanic. Although the hook had a considerable ammount of power backed into it, it lacked the articulate precision necessary to actually land a blow.

Lunging forward, Theo caught the hook in mid-swing, his cletched hands reaching out as he intercepted the attack at the jock's forearm. Undoubtably, no one would have expected such speed or skill from a mere 'bookworm'. Playing on the bully's momentary weakness, Theo let loose a solid straight-punch at the Letterman's nose with his free hand, attempting to knock him straight to the ground. He didn't want to fight, but if this what it had come down to... he wasn't holding back.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean made no effort to return the quarterback's insults. No one-liners or epic quotes from the young mechanic. His brows furrowed... his pupils shrunk... adrenaline washed through his system like a wave of cold water.

As the quarterback rushed towards him, Theo would lash out with his right foot, attempting to land a solid stomp-kick against the letterman's chest ere he manage to get his arms around his figure. The girl, meanwhile, was quietly attemtping to sneak off in all the commotion.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean growled as he kicked and thrashed as he was successfully grabbed the jocks. He thrashed and bucked as he tried to escape... but to no avail. The first of the few shallow cuts met with painful consequence, the slashes digging into the young mechanic's flesh and bleeding his skin.

Yelling aloud, Theo made one-last attempt to break free. Bending down, he shifted his weight into his heels before exploding up from the ground in a fury, his restrained hands lashing back against his captors as he tried to strike them in their throats.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean was hit square in the face, staggering back for a moment as blood trickled down his mouth. He did not fall, however, and lashed out with a side-kick at another letterman who was approaching from his rear. Disoriented and exhausted, the young fighter couldn't keep going at this right for much longer. He looked onward at the captured girl, still struggling against the grip of the jocks. A feeling of despair overcame him as he suddenly realized how utterly unable he was to protect her.

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Theo Fidean coughed weakly, staring up at the quarterback with unwavering fury. "Go to hell..." he sputtered. In spite of his fatigue, Theo managed to keep a hold of his character. He looked over at Nova with curiosity... though he hoped she wouldn't get involved. Theo didn't want two girls getting hurt on his account.

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Theo Fidean walked tiredly along the cramped hallways of his home, his feet dragging all gray, dirty carpet as he arms sluggishly wrestled with his T-shirt.

"Whuzzuh?" a gruff voice sounded from a nearby chair. Theo's uncle, a mean-looking obese man with grease-stains all over his wife-beater, rounded a corner and glared at the boy. "...where th'hell you been? You were s'posed to be home hours ago!" A short squint. "...and wha'th'hell happened to your face?" The boy groaned. He had completely forgotten about the fight he had miserably lost earlier that day. The jocks had blackened his right eye and cut his lower lip.

"Nothing," Theo shook his head, "I'm tired. I want to go to bed."

"Not till' you clean th'fuckin' kitchen you lazy-ass punk," Marty Railee barked unsympathetically, "you haven't done any o'your chores in a week. Always off at that damn auto-shop."

"It's called having a job," Theo grumbled, "...why don't you try it sometime?" It was the truth. Theo's uncle Marty had been living off the generous will of his dead mother and father for years. The lard of a man hadn't left his reclining chair and beer-bucket for ages.

"...why..." Marty fumed, "...you lil'..." Despite his unhealthy appearance, the man moved with suprising quickness, lashing out with his foot and planting his heel between Theo's shoulder-blades. Perhaps if the boy hadn't already been weakened from his beating, he might of been able to avoid it... but Theo was barely able to keep his feet moving. He collapsed to the floor with a grunt.

"You get'cher ass in bed! Now!" Marty bellowed, spittle flying from his chapped lips, "...miserable lil'cunt."

Whimpered in response, Theo managed to crawl to his room, throwing his clothes off and collapsing into his cot with a sigh. He yelped quietly for an hour as the pain from his wounds throbbed... before sheer exhaustion finally allowed the battered boy to descend into merciful sleep.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean looked about himself in his dream-state, the world a haze fiery as the familiar sound of a working-forge filtered through his ears. Somewhere beneath the clanging chaos lay a quiet-siren song... a simple melody of dark forebodement.

Theo himself stood awestruck. He had never known anything like this experience before... not even a dream. He looked frantically about himself through the eyes of his mind, searching for the source of the voice.

"I..." the boy stammered, "...I-I'm here..."

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean looked up at the golden-beings as if they were gods; his gentle green eyes glimmering in unparalleled fascination. It took a good few minutes before Theo was able to muster the mental-strength to respond to the beings' proclamations.

"I-...I don't understand," Theo shook his head, "...what are you talking about? What power?" Theo managed a short laugh in spite of himself, drawing some humor from the situation. "...I have no power." The images of his beating earlier that day flashed before his eyes. "...I'm not even strong enough to protect the ones I care about..."

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean looked onward at the smelter, his mouth agape as he beheld the forge-of-gods in all its grand splendour. For a moment, the boy practically forgot all of his many questions as he gazed upon the sheer beauty of the master forge.

"I'm sorry..." he gasped, "...I still don't understand. I don't understand at all." The young boy's lip quivered, his mind overwhelmed with the gravity of the situation. What WAS this? 'Fires of creation'... 'a warrior of darkness'... none of it was even comprehensible to the poor boy.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean could feel his grip on the dream loosening. The magnificent hall and forge before him began to dissolve under the crushing weight of his consciousness. Sprinting onward, Theo raced towards the slender metal shaft, quickly trying to determine what it was or what significance it had to him or his mission.

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#, as written by Nemo
And then Theo was awake.

The young man gasped at the cold air in his room, his shirtless body sheaned in sweat as his eyes darted about frantically. Golden morning light spilled through his window. He had slept the whole night.

Visions of his dreams coursed through his mind like a flood. Every detail of what he had seen... even the forge in all its glory... all of it was still vividly remembered to Theo. 'Get a hold of yourself,' the boy panted, 'it was just a dream. It doesn't mean anything. It was just a crazy dream.'

Fruitlessly attempting to assure himself, Theo hopped out of bed and towards his shower. It was Saturday. He had work in a few hours, and if anything could get his mind off of the crazy experience he had just had, it would be doing what he did best. Crafting.

The setting changes from Wing City to Gambit's Bar

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean walked quietly into the bar, numbly drawing his frayed jacket closer around his torso. It was a particular cold night for summer-time Wing City, and Theo had decided (against his better judgement) to get a quick drink at the local bar before making his laborous journey back home.

The young man looked cautiously about the room as he entered. Everyone in Wing City had heard all about the nasty things that went on in Gambit's... but this place was quiet and peaceful. Maybe they were just rumors.

"S-scuse' me?" he called out, the slight stutter in his voice betraying his hidden apprehension, "anyone here know where I can get a drink?" He spoke to whoever would listen.

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#, as written by Nemo
Theo Fidean shrunk back a bit. "...so where?" Theo shrugged, timidly approaching one of the bar stools. How on earth did things work in this place? He was, of course, a bit taken back at the plethora of unseemly patrons before him. Chinmoku and Zalan in particular distracted the boy for a good ten seconds before he finally remembered his manners and looked away.

"Some tea would be nice..." he hushed to himself, his fingers tapping over a nearby holo-menu. His brows furrowed in irritation as he attempted to configure the device. The kid could take apart a V6 internal combustion engine in two minutes flat, yet he couldn't even order himself a drink in this place.

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"Oh... thanks," Theo attempted a smile, still quite uncomfortable in the estranged bar. "Really, you don't have to do that. I can pay." The engineer reached into the pockets of his ratty jeans, fumbling for his wallet. He dropped it twice before he finally brought the chewed-up leather pouch onto the counter.

"Sorry, I g-guess I'm just a little nervous," he blushed, his eyes finding and darting away from Zalan's in rapid succession. "I've heard a lot about Gambit's Bar, and none of it is good. I'm just n-not sure what to expect..." His eyes wafted timidly over the surrounding patrons. Did that guy have a horn stuck between his eyes?

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"Fights? I guess I'd expect that..." Theo nodded, warming his chilled hands around the tea cup and bringing the glass cup shakily to his lips. He sipped longingly. It was, surprisingly, delicious.

"I mean, look at you," Theo smiled sheepishly, "is that a sword strapped to your belt? Why on earth would you need something like that? I mean, it's one thing if-" The engineer stopped in mid-speech as the trucks made their mischievous entrance into the bar. Panic seized Theo for a moment, fearing that he'd been caught up in one of Gambit's fabled brawls. He relaxed a bit, however, when he noticed their humorous size and appearance.

"Well that's odd..." he mused, curiosity overcoming him. What were these little things doing in the bar? Was someone controlling them manually?

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"Well they certainly seem to be-GAAAHHH!" Theo yelped as Screecher suddenly tore into his stool, sending the young engineer sprawling to the ground. With wide eyes, Theo watched the duo proceed to wreck the bar's heating system, air conditioner and furnace before finally ending their rampage in the deep fryers.

"Geez, what do you think those guys' problems are?" Theo shook his head as he spoke to Zalan. His eyes glimmered in faint curiosity. "...but if what you're saying is true... if those machines are self-operated... man, I gotta' see this!" Theo leaped off of his stool, hurrying into the kitchen and peering into the deep fryers. The young boy was a mechanic, after all. The opportunity to observe a sentient miniature vehicle was too interesting for him to pass up. Pushing back his fear, he watched the fryers bubble carefully. Were they alright?