[Phantom]

Oleksander Valentyn Kim

Full Name: Oleksander Valentyn Kim
Pronouns: He/Him
Nicknames: N/A
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Room #: -
Birthplace: Denver, Colorado
Birthday: June 12th
Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Single
Power: Dimensional Power Link
Play-By: Yikyung Lee
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 176 lbs


Personality:
Above all else, Valentyn's playfulness is his greatest strength, it also gets him into the most trouble. He is, in some situations, almost impossibly intuitive. In others, when he's unable to use his power to come to a definitive conclusion, he is observant. He is witty, with an often wicked sense of humor. Valentyn is confident in almost all situations, and this makes him more venturesome than most. Then again, it's hard not to be confident when he always has a hidden sword or two- literally and metaphorically.

Valentyn is unpredictable. One moment- he's rock solid and almost laughably quiet, the next- he's slipping into cartoon madness over something minor. Although he usually gets over it quick enough that nobody cares. Valentyn is an artist- he takes his profession and craft deathly serious- unlike basically everything else. He's amusing, although he usually just sets out to amuse himself. Valentyn is surprising- sometimes, he even surprises himself!

He is bizarre, and not in the way that there's usually something slightly off about knife people. Valentyn is often confident to the point of being flamboyant- especially when he's performing. He obviously has a few screws loose, knocking around in that devious head of his. His personality often swings between deathly serious and completely frivolous. Valentyn is sometimes difficult, and not easy to deal with. He can be arbitrary- and when he feels slighted- can be incredibly petty. And, even further than that, he can be hateful.

But, generally- Valentyn is good-natured. More of an annoyance to the uber-serious than the menace he could be. That's not to say that he doesn't have a little bit of fun though- Valentyn possesses an almost terrifying power of verbal misdirection. He is prone to speaking just... Absolute mad-hatter-esque nonsense. He loves to laugh, even if his laugh sounds like an entire family of geese being murdered.

But don't worry. You're safe with ol'Valentyn. Clown's promise!

History:
Valentyn grew up surrounded by history. Somehow- even though exile, relocation (expulsion,) resettlement, and even his father's retirement- all of his great-grandparent's trinkets and heirlooms survived. Relics from the Japanese colonial rule of Korea, and the Korean Independence Movement.

The things survived, but the language didn't. After multiple generations, and forced displacement- Valentyn embraces his Korean heritage, but considers himself Ukrainian. They spent their summers in Ukraine after all- and his grandmother would always call out to him in her accented voice: "Valentyn, Valentyn!" He's gone by his middle name for so long he often forgets his first name, the rare times he needs to use it.

Ukraine was also the place where his father became a clown, and later, where Valentyn wanted to become one too.

At home, in Colorado, his parents owned a wine bar. Clowning was a work until you can't kind of job, and if his father didn't retire when he did, who knows how much more his joints would have degenerated.

Valentyn was a shockingly normal child. Sure, sometimes he said some weird things- or had an abnormal reaction to something- but he was mostly normal.

As normal as a kid raised in a house packed with circus memorabilia could be. Despite being raised by one, his younger sister was decidedly a little creeped out by clowns. Valentyn, as a kind and caring older brother- would hide one of the less-creepy clown figures in random places in the house- where he knew she'd find it. This was merely the beginning of his love of pranks.

He was an excellent student- in every subject- except for math. Sure he got basic addition and subtraction, he could do the easy parts of the times tables- but beyond that, it might as well have all been gibberish. He frequently got numbers mixed up- or wrote them in the wrong order- despite understanding what order they ought to go in.

Being an Asian kid that was bad at math in the early 2000's went about as well as you would expect it to. Valentyn leaned further on his language skills to compensate. He also leaned a little further into the side of him that loved practical jokes.

By then, he was perfectly aware that he could see things that other people couldn't. He called them windows. The things he saw in them sometimes made no sense- other times, they made perfect sense. To the point where he would creep other kids out with how much he knew.

He knew- even then- that he shouldn't trust these windows completely. That, while he could go through- they were made for watching. And, sometimes? They needed to be watched.

Despite being athletic, he was not very interested in school sports. Not until he was old enough to be on the gymnastics team. He had always fancied the idea of being a clown, like his father, but he hadn't thought too much about it up until then. Being a clown- an actual clown, not a party clown- required skill. Knowing some acrobatics certainly wouldn't hurt his chances. When he could find some that didn't clash with his schedule, he took courses.

His father refused to teach him. At first, it really hurt Valentyn's feelings. Was he not worthy? Did he not have what it took? Later, he came to appreciate his father's distance. It made him a better, more resourced performer. He wasn't just copying what his old man taught him- he was going out and learning his own skills. He was happy to pay for his lessons, and critique him, if he asked. But Valentyn was not able to lean solely on his pedigree.

As he developed his skills- while he learned to mime- he found himself appreciating the oral tradition of clowning. He was not good with numbers, so he leaned on his words. And his words were a powerful asset. He could turn arguments in on themselves with ease- and misdirect even the sharpest barb- but, mostly, Valentyn was just even more difficult to those that caused him difficulties.

The discovery of his pocket dimension was fantastic for Valentyn. And it happened completely by accident.

He had a note from his crush, and nowhere to put it. Anyone else probably would have thought twice about putting something so precious in the post-box from oblivion that materialized in front of him- but he was so familiar with the windows by now. There was nothing in there, it would be safe. He dropped the paper in the hole and went back to practice. And, anytime he wanted to see it, he could just pull it back out.

It was so convenient! He could put almost anything in there. But, what about himself? That mysterious dimension- so unlike anything he had ever seen before! That magnificent, mesmerizing inky blackness! He had to know!

When Valentyn first passed through- there was nothing. It seemed so lonely, and disappointing. Almost shockingly boring.

Well, what did he expect to be in there?

What did he want to be there?

The first thing he pictured was a maze. And it materialized before him instantly. Then, he thought of a magnificent clock tower. And a full moon in a cloudy, checkered sky. How lovely. All of his things were there too, still. That world seemed to expand and contract as he saw fit- anything he imagined could exist there! He could fly- he could do difficult acrobatic tricks that he could only imagine doing in the real world.

That space was his- to bend as he pleased.

His acrobatic skill improved tremendously. Valentyn couldn't seriously hurt himself on a floor of clouds. But, the more he accessed his pocket dimension, the more aware he was of the windows. Sometimes he saw things in them that he was sure couldn't be true, but that set him on edge. Because anything he saw was always possible- even if it was improbable.

He was a worst case scenario generating machine.

But, as he saw the absolute worst everyone he knew could be- all his little flaws seemed not to matter as much. It was hard to take most of the everyday- little things- very seriously. Every tiny action mattered, and every action didn't matter at all. A great paradox.

Even further, he wasn't even just seeing the present anymore. He could go back and forth at will- present, past, future. Dimension A, B- X. Threads in time- with thousands of little knots in them- criss-crossing and tangling together, infinitely.

Math continued to be a major struggle for him. Thankfully, his math teacher understood that he was actually trying- he'd gone to enough after school sessions to prove that. He was allowed to retake all of his tests. Material that he'd completely bombed on the first try, he was capable of producing a C in the second time. When he passed his math final his senior year, his teacher bought him chocolate.

That summer, Valentyn crammed in as many courses as he possibly could before his audition. He found he excelled in axe and knife throwing, balancing, and acrobatics- but he had many great teachers try- and fail- to teach him hand magic.

On the day of his audition, Valentyn was nervous- more nervous than he'd ever been. More nervous than he probably ever would be. He could look- if he wanted to- and see how he did in other timelines, but that would just make him more nervous! What if he only made it in one? What if he didn't make it, ever?

But he did. His quick wit and improvisation skills won them over. Now that it was official, he was finally able to unpack the couple of bags he'd brought to his grandmother's house.

Clown school came more naturally to him than regular school ever did. The worst thing that happened to him there was the week he had no eyebrows- but within a couple of days, none of the other students did either! It was a disaster of Nair and scotch tape! He even got one of them to rub their own eyebrow off! (He removed the other one normally, because it was better to be eyebrowless than have one eyebrow. Or, so he said...)

Up until then, Valentyn had never painted before. He wasn't a real clown- he hadn't earned his face yet. Grease paint was more difficult to work with than he first thought. At that time, he stuck to the standard clown face (he preferred to be a sad clown). Unless they were doing mime, then he got a little creative.

By the time he was ready to look for a job, he had developed an impressive resume- but his most impressive trick- and his future act- revolved around his power.

Valentyn had axe and knife throwing skills, but when they covered sword swallowing- nobody could figure out how he did it. Even further- he combined it with his fire-performance skills. He could open a portal in his mouth and swallow a sword, and sometimes, that sword was on fire. Then he'd just pull it right back out- ten, twenty, thirty minutes later- like he'd just swallowed it!

He knew what he wanted to do with his career. He wanted to be just like his father- touring the world. To entertain was a gift- and he wanted to share that gift with everyone!

Words could never describe the joy he felt when he performed. In front of a crowd, with his face covered, he was his true self. And his true self was devious, cheerful, and implike. Valentyn found he actually preferred to be a side-show performer. He could interact with the crowd more that way- sure, that meant he dealt with more hecklers. But he felt so giddy heckling the hecklers!

It was here, in the circus, that he first heard the word "gifted". Many of the performers that he worked with had abilities of their own. Outside of the US- and its European allies- in states where they would never be able to just barge in and start taking people unnoticed, it mattered less.

They were all free to be who they were. He didn't find out what that entailed, or about the resistance, until later. Of course- they were all stealthed unless they were around each other- no need to cause a commotion! Secrecy kept the show alive, and the show must go on!

Valentyn was never content with his act- he was constantly seeking to improve. He changed shows and locations every few years- traveling the world just as he'd always wanted to.

He experimented with his face, too. As a beginner he had much more important things to focus on, but as a clown, his face was important! It ought to be unique! It ought to reflect his character! He decided to paint his lips purple instead of red one day, and it stuck. He overdrew, into a sharp- jagged smile! Devious, but playful. In the end, he realized he resembled a certain character, and went for it. His facial features kind of looked like him anyway.

(If a pro wrestler could paint like a certain Sith Lord and not piss off The Mouse- he was probably fine.)

By chance, he ended up in Korea for a few months. Valentyn was Korean, but culturally, he had no connection. He decided to learn as much as he could while he was there.

He knew what his ancestors had done was important- but he had no idea that they were taught about in schools- and were viewed as national heroes. Of course, he spent most of his time learning about the Korean clown tradition- primarily Namsadang nori. (Although Geommu also captured his interest.)

Many of the performances had an entire narrative wrapped around them. They exchanged jokes- and doled out criticism toward the elite. It changed the way that he structured his own performances entirely.

Meanwhile- no matter where he traveled- Valentyn continued to get these pamphlets. For a school, for the gifted.

Valentyn both did, and didn't, believe in coincidence. So often things happened in the same way- and at the same time- in parallel timelines that they must be destined. But, if he knew about them, and could avoid them if he chose- was it destiny? Or did he just make the same choice that his closest selves did? He had made thousands and thousands of tiny choices, all leading up to this particular moment.

He was, vaguely, aware of the resistance. Whisper networks were easier to form when their every word wasn't being monitored. But the information he got was more like tiny bits and pieces, torn and shredded, of a bigger picture. Nobody was really sure what was going on, because if they were- they wouldn't have been able to say what they did.

All over the United States, gifted people were vanishing. Where, and for what, nobody knew.

By fate- or by chance- while performing in South America, he met someone with ties to a resistance group. Even they couldn't tell him much- just that he should never go back.

The "school" was a trap. If he set foot on US soil... They didn't know what would happen. He might not ever be seen again. And, suddenly, he thought about his great-grandparents.

He had never paid much attention to it as a boy. It was far away in the past. But they had worked diligently, even after fleeing the Japanese occupation, for the Independence Movement. They were part of a vast network- spanning almost every continent. They worked, most of the time, hard labor jobs- and donated half of their income to the movement.

This felt important.

Valentyn didn't need much. His lodging was either cheap, or included in his contract. He had a vague idea of wanting a family- someday- in the future. But the future was the future- this was now- and now, he loved performing more than anything else.

If they had managed to stay this secret for this long, they must need some help. After some time, and persistence, he managed to get in contact with that group. He sent them half of his earnings- and he continued to keep in contact with his family by phone, or video.

He was daring- and more than a little unhinged after living the way he had been living- but he was cognizant of the fact that he really should not fuck with the US government.

They knew about him. And- if they knew what he had been doing- they wanted him.

The life he led was lonely sometimes. He could finally understand why his father made the decision he did at his age. As he got more skilled and well known, he worked for bigger and bigger shows. He even received offers if he was in one place long enough! Valentyn would probably never be content with his act, but he was proud of what he was doing.

And then, suddenly (as deaths often are,) his mother died.

Valentyn knew he should never, ever go back. But she was his mother. He had to be there for his father, and his sisters. Family was one of the most important things- his parents taught him that.

Blissfully- he was not swatted the moment he got off the plane. He made it to the hotel- although he was mostly at his family's house, in the days leading up to the funeral.

He made it to the funeral.

While he was grieving heavily, he felt the best thing for him was to get back to work. He said goodbye to his father, his grandmother, and his sisters- and then they got him.

One moment, he was waiting for an Uber back to the hotel. The next- he was frozen to the ground. Unable to move.

His vision was blurry. He was awake, and he wasn't. Someone... was speaking.

They were taking him there.

It was for his own good.

He should have come when he was invited.

They continued speaking, but by then- he was out completely.

Uncle Sam wanted him.

All Valentyn had ever wanted was to be a great performer. But he was never satisfied with his performances.

When he woke up, he was there. Infinity. There was something different about the air. It's heavy, and the windows are everywhere.

On an island in the middle of the ocean, he would not be able to run. He didn't want to. The grief from the sudden loss of his mother, and now the sudden loss of his freedom- and career- feels overwhelming.

But, there has always been a part of Valentyn that was a little twisted. And now that he felt that he could see everything clearly-

Being here... must be destiny!

This clown has more up his sleeve. If he was going to give his last performance here... It would be his magnum opus- a killer show!

Other:

His face of choice, it may seem familiar to some of you, no?

The Powers:
Dimensional Power Link- Valentyn's powers are both caused by, and a consequence of, his link to his pocket dimension.

Pocket Dimension- His dimension is black, formless expanse. But because it does not follow the laws of the natural world, Valentyn can shape his dimension however he sees fit. He does not visit it much- and while he can take someone there- often sees no reason to. It's not uncommon for his pocket dimension to take the shape of a maze, with a great clock tower.

Dimensional Storage- Valentyn can store, and preserve, anything in his pocket dimension. Natural laws don't apply there- water never dries up, fire never goes out- wind never stops blowing, etc. He's able to pull anything out of it and use it as he desires.

Dimensional Awareness- But, just as he's aware of his own dimension- Valentyn is aware of all other dimensions. They're like windows- which he can peer into, and take from, as he pleases.

As a consequence of this- Valentyn often has "intrusive thoughts" that are actually things that have happened in that place- or with that person- in another dimension. He is not limited to looking just at the present: he can look at, and see, the past and future. Of course, in a different dimension, there are often different people- or different actions- that have been taken. When they all line up- it can seem as though Valentyn is omniscient. When it's all wrong, he's more like a worst-case-scenario generating machine.

Valentyn can reach into these dimensions and take things from them- or let things pass through them- though he's never tried to. If he were to take something through one of these windows- if it weren't returned within a certain amount of time- it would meet a grisly end. The same could be said about people.

Love him, hate him, wanna date him?