Gregg, Walker

[Walker Gregg]

Walker Gregg
Water Manipulation

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Toby (only in modern clothes):[/center]

General »

Nickname: None so far
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Student/Professor: Student
Subject: N/A
Birth-date: June 20th, 1990
Birthplace: St. James, MO
Sexuality: Straight
Face Claim: Jake Abel

Appearance »

Eye color: Light blue, but sometimes look green
Hair color: Brown
Height: 6’0”
Build: Wiry
Scars: A few, just from being alive as long as he has. One alone the underside of his jaw on the right
Tattoos: None
Piercings: None

Personality »

Likes:

• Toby
  
• Beer
  
• Sleep – particularly in a real bed
  
• Friendly people
  
• Getting a decent meal
  

Dislikes:

• Not being able to see Toby
  
• Homework
  
• Feeling old because he’s a dad at Silas
  
• Being cooped up inside
  
• Admitting to being gifted
  

Fears:

• Losing Toby
  
• Toby getting hurt
  
• Something happening to him and leaving Toby alone
  
• Being locked up somewhere
  

Brief Summary:

Walker is very much an observer before a chatter, and as such will avoid speaking if given the choice. He doesn’t mean to be stuck up or standoffish, he just hasn’t really learned to speak without having something to say. It doesn’t take too much to get on his good side, but anyone so inclined could find a shortcut in Walker’s son. Walker’s greatest weakness is Toby, and because of that, Toby can sort of make or a break a relationship with Walker – be nice to his kid and he’ll like you, but one misstep could ruin it all. Since having Toby, he’s found that it takes more to get him really worked up. That being said, he does find childish things more irritating, and he gets neurotic about the things that might hurt Toby. In general, his whole reality shifted at some point so that his main concern is Toby, and there isn’t really a close second anymore.

Power Description »

Walker has the ability to manipulate water and other liquids (as long as they are comprised of mostly water). He has a basic mastery of this skill, but it isn’t much beyond making balls of water float out of cups. He will, theoretically, be able to progress to much more impressive stuff, but it’ll take time.

Water tends to react to his emotions right now, and he has ended up soaking wet on more than one occasion because of it.

History »

Born in the uneventful town of St. James, Walker grew up not expecting to spend a lot of time saving the world. In fact, he grew up expecting to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a car mechanic. He was going to get married to the perfect woman, have 2.3 children, a white picket fence, and a dog named something generic and cute – Spot, or Pogo, or something similar.

He met Marie in middle school, and even at that young age, he had decided she was the one he was going to marry. He spent the rest of middle school winning her over, and by the time he worked up the nerve to actually, properly ask her out, she was more than willing. It was the classic, cheesy romance story, but they were happy enough with it. Happy enough that they married straight out of high school and never minded the comments and sideways looks they got for it.

Walker was barely nineteen when the nurse put the brand new baby boy in his arms and delivered the worst news in his relatively short life. Marie had died just after the baby had arrived – complications in the pregnancy that hadn’t been caught until too late. She was dead, and all he had was the tiny, dark-eyed boy that watched him unblinkingly.

The only think that kept Walker from totally unbridled drunkenness was the constant company. There was always someone in the house with him after the funeral; his mom, sometimes his mother-in-law (when she could stomach the sight of him), and sometimes his younger sister. Always someone to poke and prod and insist the baby needed this or that…and to make sure he reacted in the proper way. By the time they eventually eased off some three months later, once he’d gotten down the robotic motions of changing diapers and holding bottles, he just couldn’t bring himself to drink. Not that he didn’t want to, but every time he reached for a beer bottle, he’d get a panicked feeling and have to run and make sure the baby was still there. Some part of his brain remembered that drunks lost their children, and just the thought was enough to make him panic.

Toby (he couldn’t remember when he had actually named the baby – only that he and Marie had decided what to call him a long time ago) was six months old when the little, greasy man stopped him in the drink aisle of the supermarket. The man had tried to sell some story about mutants and how valuable they were…it was nonsense, but Walker just nodded like he was listening and tried to move around. St. James wasn’t New York, by any means, but it did seem to have more than its fair share of weirdoes, and it was often easiest to just work around them. The man wouldn’t let him, however, stepping in his way again and insisting that, since Marie had been a mutant, then the baby – Walker couldn’t remember hitting him, but he saw the blood on the man’s face and his split knuckles when he got home (he was also soaked from hip to knee, but he had no particular memory of that, either).

The second time the man caught him; Walker was on the way to his parents’ house for a few days, and so he had his son and luggage in hand, effectively trapping him into listening to the crazy man. This time he was more careful, but he still repeated the accusations against Marie – with a flinch and raised hands – and then even tried insisting that Walker was one. Walker did his best to ignore the man as he buckled Toby in and climbed in himself. That was when the man really got weird, leaning in the window with too-bright eyes and insisting Walker “think about what someone might pay for a mutant child!”

Walker hoped he ran over the man’s foot when he backed out.

He spent the week with his parents, letting them babysit when he went to work and tried to figure out what to tell the police about the man. His parents were indignant, but somewhat less help than he had hoped. The worrying and indecision eventually drove him into an argument with his dad, and at the height of the argument – fists clenched and voices raised beyond rational conversation – his worst fears were confirmed. He felt the water burst out of the glass like a bubble being popped somewhere in his chest, and water sprayed everywhere.

It happened very quickly after that. His parents panicked, Walker went very numb for a very long time, and then they had to plan. He couldn’t stay - that had somehow never been an option – but they weren’t sure where to send him… They talked about his Aunt Edna who was – in Walker’s humble opinion – totally out of her mind, but who lived out in the boonies and wouldn’t attract any attention. Name after name was thrown around without the slightest attention paid to what Walker’s opinion. Eventually an impermanent decision was made and they were all bundled away to bed.

He slipped away in the middle of the night while his parents slept. Leaving a note behind, he took only what he could carry in a large backpack and a diaper bag. He drove until the microsleeping started to make it dangerous, and then pulled off at the first motel. Two days later he was on the move again, having seen the little greasy man at the gas station a few blocks from the motel. He’s been following this same general pattern for the last three years, moving mostly from motel to motel in a vain attempt to confuse and/or lose the little, greasy man. It was two months ago at one of those motels that he was discovered by a mutant – a telepathic maid who’d burst uninvited into the room while he was guiltily practicing his own power. She bullied – and stole, he suspected – the story from him, and then insisted Silas could protect and teach him. He promised he would, just to get her to go away, and left the motel as soon as he could. Mutant himself or not, the idea still sort of made him nervous.

Six more near disasters with the greasy man (and one ambush that left him scarred under the jaw) convinced him, and he found a bus that could get them near enough to the school

OOC »

OOC Name: Morde
Contact(s): PM
How did you find us? I’m in the credit box! Aaah!

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