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James Mathews

If you're not angry, you're not paying attention.

0 · 981 views · located in Washington D. C.

a character in “Those Not Like Us”, as played by Verix


You can also simply not include anything at all, and encourage other players to explore this character's personality through roleplaying with them.You can



ALIAS > Varies
NICKNAME > "Jamie" - (Friends, neutral/liked) "Mr. Mathews" - (Work, neutral)
AGE > January 1, 1990
SEXUALITY > Heterosexual
HOMETOWN > New Orleans, Louisiana
OCCUPATION > Politician


HEIGHT & WEIGHT > 190cm : 170lbs.
HAIR & EYES > Brown hair, brown eyes
STYLE > Professional suits tailored perfectly, worn street clothing, shirtless.

In front of a crowd James’ countenance dazzles like stars in a night sky. He’s so vibrant and full of life that like the sun people are drawn to him inevitably. Perhaps it’s a natural born charisma, or a lucky set of genes, but when he smiles the dark disappears and makes way for a blindingly white light in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t always been like that though, for in his youth his grin was a little too awkward, a little too forced; but hours of practicing in the mirror has frozen his face into the perfect picture of a politician.

When James is alone however, his warm eyes seem to darken and an easy posture replaces practiced poise. He slouches while working, yawns without regard, and while not entirely comfortable — he doubts he’ll ever be — he feels more at home when no one is watching. However it’s rare that he’ll allow anyone to see him in such a state, for even in the company of his friends he prefers to maintain an air of sophistication.

When meeting with Barbie however, at the humanly headquarters, he never goes anywhere without his dark sunglasses, and combs his hair to lie flat against his head before covering it up with a beanie. As well he wears old street clothing that he finds at thrift shops or antique garage sales.


PASSIONATE > there's a fire in his eyes not even water could put out.
FORGETFUL > regularly he thinks only of the future that he forgets the present.
CUNNING > he never shows anyone his true hand, even if they're on the same side. he's too afraid for that.

James is, in all definitions of the word, a politician. There is a strong sense of justice within him that wants to revolutionize the world, and because of this he wears his mind on his sleeve as though it were his heart.

He speaks the truth, or what he believes it to be (it is politics after all), and demands people listen to what he has to say. There are important things to do, important policies to create, and he can’t be weighed down by having waste even a second repeating himself. Despite all that though, James doesn’t see the world in black or white however, the shades of gray that smudge the line are thin and blurry at best.

No matter how hard he tries though, he doesn’t understand people who see the entire world as a series of desaturated color; cannot fathom how someone could be so pertinacious in an idea that’s archaic at best. In his mind he believes they live in a world untouched and unafraid. He used to live like that as well,so he cannot fault them too much, but the difference between him and them is that he changed. People who don’t care are t be feared, for often they’re the ones that hinder progress.

As much as his thoughts are loud and endless, an adversary to organization, he can concisely state his opinion and present it well. It’s a talent he’s possessed ever since he was a child — young, gangly, and with too many words to say and not enough people to listen — and when he recognized it for what it was he hit the ground running and never looked back.

He couldn’t write we'll as a child and he can’t write well now; his only saving grace is the invention of the voice recorder. It’s always been easier to speak than to write, for words flow like water when he speaks and it’s paper that acts as a the dam to pace him. It’s not to say he’s awful at it, but he certainly could be better.

However, as much as he enjoys his line of work he finds that, at times, it can be quite tiring. Being angry takes energy, and with a sleep schedule that’s practically nonexistent, it makes living on some days unbearable. Such is the reason why he often accepts invitations to social gatherings when offered. More than spending time with friends he finds being forced to stop working allows him to see his progress in a different light. He’s not entirely mentally present, but he justifies his behavior with the future in mind. After all, what is one relationship compared to the well being of a millions others?


STRENGTH > Persuasion : This is the ability to influence a person’s actions with
words. He doesn’t hypnotize, but rather compels people to do as he says. In a way
it tricks their mind into thinking what he wants them to think. He could casually say
he wants a donut, and the person he’s talking to would be compelled to buy him one.
Of course he could negate his own effect by saying, “Don’t do that.” Just as well this
power can be used on multiple people over prolonged periods of time. A complete
permanent change of mind of a single person is only possible through months of
convincing, but once the damage is done it’s there forever.
WEAKNESS > He can’t force people to do anything beyond their limits: flying, killing, fighting, etc. Things that physically they cannot do they won’t. As well, people who have strong mental fortifications often don’t fall prey to his power at all. However, he’s only encountered a handful of people like that. He can influence a large group of people, but his power only works for those who can hear him in person. As well, when in large group it takes longer for his suggestions to really take hold and convince them. Major shifts of thinking often don’t last long and so needs to be
stated frequently for it to become a permeant mindset. Just as well James is more susceptible to other superhuman’s mental powers because of this. He exerts a lot of energy naturally by constantly using his power, so his mental defenses are lowered quite significantly. As a final note, he cannot stop or start his power, it simply is.


Growing up James had been a small child, sheltered from birth into a rich family. He knew not of the cruel world and instead remained in an isolated bubble with only his parents to keep him company. Because of this they were able to indoctrinate him early on, making him believe superhumans were something to be feared, something to be contained. He had believed them of course, for they were his kind, kind, parents who wanted nothing but the best for him and needed him to recognize where evil slept.

James hadn’t shown signs of being a superhuman all throughout childhood for his power was quiet and untraceable (He loved to talk, even if what he was saying wasn’t important).

The realization dawned on him during his fourth period debate class as a freshman. The teacher had assigned different topics for each pair of students, and gave them opposing sides to argue. James had been ecstatic of course, and that sentiment only increased when he was set to go against a girl who was well known for her stubbornness.

On the day of the debate where they agued about the significance of plastic waste, and the girl had been winning by the smallest of fractions. He could feel victory on the horizon, and more than ever he wanted to win; and he could, if only she could see that he was clearly in the right. He had said it off handedly, a spur of the moment action, “Just admit it already, I’m right. Plastic waste is a problem because . . .” When he was done the girl had sighed and admitted defeat. The class had been stunned but chalked up his victory to logical reasoning. But he knew better — knew that she wouldn’t have backdown on her stance even if God were telling her so. He went home the next period and tired to forget.

After that James became more subdued, less happy, and lived his life in a state of constant self-loathing. Everyday he wondered whether it would be better to disappear into night and have his parents still love him, or live a lie in broad daylight where nothing would ever be right.

As a senior he walked among the living like a ghost, and yet somehow he managed to befriend a boy who would change his life irrevocably. It only took a few short months for them to forge a deep connection and it seemed they were one entity forced to split into two bodies. They complimented each other perfectly, and before James could stop he had told Chris of his burden.

Even now James considered it to be a miracle that rather than running away the only thing Chris did in response was reveal his own power. It felt like a weight had been lifted and the whole of his being didn’t seem so much of a lie as it was a truth. They spent a blissful two months together before Chris was on the the receiving end of superhuman brutality. As it turns out, having telekinesis is hard control — especially when you don’t practice — and the government saw Chris as even harder to maintain.

Senior year ended with James just as lonely as it started, but something new itched at his being and called for action.

So it was he spent his college years majoring in political science until he climbed his way up the political ladder. Recently, at the age of thirty he became a senator for the state of Louisiana where secretly he funds the Humanly with the large inheritance from his deceased parents. He calls it poetic justice, others would say it’s retribution .

James needs to wear glasses, but he prefers to
wear contacts. He had a childhood fish named
Eggplant because it was purple - it lived for 3
years. He prefers black coffee, but has a taste
for sweet foods. His favorite color is navy blue
with orange as a strong second. Fairly apt at
cooking, but baking not so much. He enjoys
thrift shopping, and feels nervous whenever
he's out. Whenever someone asks for his name
at the humanly HQ he changes his alias every-
He is the embodiment of Tuxedo Man when he
visits the humanly. The ocean at night when no
one seems to be watching. "If you're not angry
you're not paying attention."
There is a differ-
ence between doing something because you
want to, and doing what you need to. We're all
just stardust. Cold nights made warm by the
faint glow of a laptop. Nursing one beer for two
hours. Nodding your head and not paying
attention. Politeness that keeps your enemies
close and your friends distant.
Face Claim: insert full name here
Hex Code: #000000
Created By: The Writer's Voice
Character By: insert your username here

(Also, thanks are in due to the wonderful
Εpιmetheus, whose coding is a big inspiration
for my own sheet. And Verix, who is also
a big inspo for coding. ily guys.)


So begins...

James Mathews's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Barbara Molly Character Portrait: Andrea Summers Character Portrait: James Mathews Character Portrait: London Cross Character Portrait: Nora Young Character Portrait: Jude Wilson
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Halloween, 2020 ; Washington D. C.
6:00 P.M. Friday Night, Sixty Degrees


Washington D. C. is a nightwalker, hustling through each and every day hoping that the sacrifices of today would ensure a better tomorrow. Politicians battle new legislation as if the very world would end if nutritional facts were more honest about their calories. Offices are crowded with people counting down to Friday at five, when happy hour turns to happy weekend. Halloween is no different.

The sky is clear save for a few dustings of fluffy white clouds shaded yellow by the setting sun. In the suburb, parents young and old chaperone kids of all ages. Witches and cowboys, ghosts and princesses, all of them herd together for the hopes of earning their prize of a full bag of candy. Others only older in appearance but not in spirit party the night away in tighter, shorter versions of the same costumes that the young ones pound the streets in. There is a wicked spirit in the air, but also a sense of freedom. This is the night that superhumans roam the streets freely, if only to feel like they're not the monsters here; the one day they don't have to wear costumes.

On the outskirts of the city, just enough for the taller buildings to shield it, is a hotel. On the front, in bright pink neon, is the words "NO VACANCIES"; to further the point, dozens of cars, trucks, vans, even bikes, are crowded the parking lot beside it. It's tall, at least ten stories, but looks almost like a ghost building, despite the liveliness of the people coming in and out at all hours of the day. Tonight, the lights are few because most of their people are out enjoying the one night where they don't have to watch their backs so closely. Still, tonight is special: the lights would flicker up again and the ghost would revive, if only for a few hours. Every Halloween, they always have a party.

Not so much a party, but a celebration of life. For another year, they escaped the discrimination that might one day kill them all. Every year they each line up to give a drop of their blood for access into the Underground, where the true Humanly headquarters lies. The first floor is strictly for living; couches and beanbags of all shapes and sizes are scattered in organized living rooms, a maze of curtains create bedrooms for those who couldn't find any room upstairs, and the other half of the room is a dining hall big enough for a hundred to eat. Below that floor is the Humanly of strategy and mission planning, where a young woman will sit slaving away until someone tugs her up to the party she's supposed to be hosting. This night is only meant for fun.

And fun it would be. String lights covering every inch of the ceiling, background music queued up, and a time to be human.