Remplissage's Characters ; look to the skies, and you'll see... [ Character Overhaul! ]

The name's Olliver Gillespie, but you can call him Oli. He's seventeen years of age, and will come of age on October 14th. He is also obviously male. He was birthed by the deity Nyx, the ruler of night, and knows it through and through. This must mean, what'd you guess, he was claimed, and it's damn-near time, seeing as he's been in camp for two years. He's year-round, just like the seasons, and couldn't go home even if he wanted to; besides, there's no returning to a broken home. The story behind this, you may ask? Peter Smith, the makeshift father that had been molded for the already dysfunctional family, had always been a drunk. It didn't matter whether it was a holiday, a weekend, or just a regular day of the week, he would be hitting the bars. Peter fueled himself with so much alcohol that his drunken stupors came with more then the next day hangovers - they would come with horrid beatings. He would impale Olliver's stepmother, Marilyn, with punch upon punch until her entire body was painted in bruises, scars that she would have to hide in order to keep her attack out of trouble. By the age of twelve, Peter would share these late-night assaults with Olliver, who by now would try to intervene. This stressed and damaged lifestyle would continue for a few more years, until Marilyn took the situation into her own hands. She decided to send her child away to camp, where he would be unharmed and safe from the chaos. She, however, returned to the shattered home. After this last goodbye, Olliver and his nearly true mother have had no contact. Now, what about his true and blood father? Well, that's his little secret.

Now, on to his appearance. See him once, you'll probably never forget him. It's not that he's exceptionally amazing looking, nor does he have the ideal homeless look about him. He's just...Olliver. First impressions, in the outside world at least, range. Some see him as a hardcore Christian, some see him as a hardened and irresponsible punk - neither of these are true, however. His dirty-blonde hair, which is much like a bright brunette cut, is grown out, yet trimmed back so that it doesn't cover his face. He likes to describe his hair color as, "sandy dirt color", if it's of any importance. On windy days, his short tresses tend to fly around in the gusts, being the opposite of close-cropped. Around his head, it tends to curl a bit, becoming wavy.

His brows are more of a reddish-caramel color, appearing much like that of a chocolate shade in darker lighting. Olliver's eyes are unlike those of many teenage boy's; they're always bright and lively, being a medium shade of emerald. His lips are thin and pale, making them a light-pink color, like that of a powdered fluff.

Olliver has the figure of an average yet somewhat toned teenage boy. He's thin and muscled in his triceps and biceps, with long arms he calls the "gift of the drummer". He is rather tall, at six-foot-one, and despite his wimpy physique, can take a pounding. His weight is on the lower side, though it's not because of any eating disorders or the likes. He's simply a skinny boy. His muscles, which aren't too evident in his chest area, are much more prominent in his biceps, and are nearly nonexistent in his thin legs. Despite the weak appearance his legs put on, he has incredible strength in his thighs and calves, which he once again contributes to his life-long hobby.

Apparel-wise, Olliver likes to stick on the long side of things; long-sleeved shirts, jeans, jackets, etc. Black, green, red, all of those are in his color range. There is one accessory he always wears, however - his small, brightly-shining cross necklace, which he gained from his stepmother at a young age. Despite the fact that he believes in Greek and Roman gods, he wears it for good luck.

And inside that oh-so delicious shell? Active. That is the one word that can always describe Olliver. No matter what, he's always moving. Running, walking, tapping on the nearest surface, pumping his legs up and down, etc. He never stops active motion, for a reason unknown. Unlike many teenagers, he is nothing but afraid of himself. He loves the camera, often taking pictures and, to many people's knowledge, the future dream of being a director. Action! is actually one of his favorite phrases. He looks at everything in a unique and curious way, believing that nothing is too far, and nothing is unknown. If there is something to discover, he will discover it. This interaction will people and this social activity is what gains Olliver many of his friends.

If you were to spot Olliver somewhere, he encourages striking up a conversation. That is, if he doesn't first. He loves new people, and will do anything to get under your skin and learn about the real you. He's not irritating, though. At least, he tries not to be. He simply has a good heart, and likes to know as much about a person as possible. Some might consider this nosiness, but Olliver likes to think of it as just old-fashioned friendliness.

In Olliver's vision, everything is accepted with arms wide open. No judgement should be passed, in his opinion. Friendships are two-sided, however. Being nice to him? He'll be nice to you. As long as you're polite and accepting, he'll entrust you with his life. This is how it's always been for Olliver, as he still views his unofficial father in a good light, despite the beatings. Nothing get's past him, however. Break his trust once, and he'll be stricken. The worst thing someone could do to him is to manipulate him to their heart's content, and then turn around and break him.

His fatal flaw? It would have to be his completely and humble trust in everyone. His only pet is his beloved fennec fox, Snare. He has many talents, such as his camera skills, his drumming (which he began as a child), and the oddity of burping the ABC's. Lastly, his arsernary of weapons includes everything from a charming smile to taking a nap on the battlefield. It's best to confuse the enemy, right?