[Phantom]

Jaewon Pyo

Full Name: Jaewon Pyo
Pronouns: He/Him
Nicknames: Won
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Room #: -
Birthplace: Chuncheon, South Korea
Birthday: April 4th
Orientation: Unsure
Status: Single
Power: Weapon Proficiency, Touch
Play-By: Taekwoon Jung
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 152 lbs


Personality:
Jaewon is a recovering perfectionist, and he wants to be perfect at recovery. He is a surprisingly caring person. Or, at the very least, he's making an effort to be understanding of others while here. Jaewon could be described as gentle, but firm. After years of playing the perfect child, he presents as well-mannered and polished. He is a naturally curious person, but more the type to sit back and observe than ask a million questions.

Won is fiercely independent. He has trouble asking for help even when he needs it. Jaewon is stubborn and will sometimes even insist he doesn't need help when he blatantly does. He is a quiet person in general. Silence is his default. He is solitary by nature and often isolates himself unintentionally. That or - in not speaking - renders himself invisible. Despite this, he isn't the type to hole up in his room and avoid people. Rather, he busies himself by doing things like reading, or playing the harp.

Because of the above - he tends to come off as aloof. He suffers from an affliction called "resting tired face" and has an enervated affect. Due to the life he's lived over the past decade or so, he is secretive about even relatively "harmless" things. In the correct circumstances he's capable of being incredibly brutal and destructive. He is shy and has trouble approaching others, unless it's about something he's interested in. He is something of a conformist and has a hard time stepping too far out of line - publicly! And despite being a harpist, he is notably lacking in grace in almost all other situations. Rather than being clumsy, he is noticeably stiff.

Jaewon is shockingly secure. He's never seen his shyness as a bad thing, and has always had a handful of friends. It's just who he is, and he doesn't feel a pressing need to change. Due to his limited vision, he is almost always on alert, and prone to hyper-startling over little things. Won can come off as intense - and despite his best efforts, his amoral views on certain topics usually come to light eventually.


History:
Despite being the child of a diplomat, Jaewon lived a relatively normal life. They moved every few years. Usually these were small moves - village, to town, to city, to metropolis. He was a stereotypical mother's friend's son - his parents wanted the best for him. Without being asked, he performed his part.

He attended his first harp lesson when he was twelve. They were living in China, and his mother still insisted that he pay attention to his extra-circulars. At first he hated it. His fingers were clumsy, and his notes were sour. Unfortunately both his teacher and his mother conspired against him. She'd pull him out, if he wanted to. He could try something else. That was when he started to fall in love with it.

His playing didn't get better overnight. But for the first time in his life, Won cared about something other than his grades. It felt like heresy to admit, so he kept it secret. Like the notes he and his friends kept tucked in their textbooks. Even though he was a quiet boy, he somehow always made friends.

Even in high school, when maybe he should have been regulated to laughingstock, or math nerd. Maybe that was just in movies. His father got a job in the States. Won had a hard time adjusting there, but he always had harp lessons to look forward to. As long as he wasn't getting shoved into a locker (that had to be in movies, those things couldn't even fit a child, let alone a teenager).

Then, he took a wrong turn.

He somehow managed to fall in with the cool kids. Maybe they just wanted his test answers - which he was happy to sell. Whatever the case, things got out of hand. Senior year, last semester. Jaewon had worked painstakingly to build up the perfect specs, he stood a chance to get into any college he wanted. No harm in going to a party, right?

The rager was more like a snoozer and Won decided that partying really wasn't for him. His vision was blurry - something that had been happening on and off more often - and it was dark. He heard his friend shriek from beside him, and thought someone was playing a joke. Ha-ha, very funny! We're all scared now!

The other boy had a knife, all he had was a glow stick. Won grabbed his friend and pulled: if they were going to die, they would at least die together. The last bit of light that wasn't coming from an adjacent doorway died in his hand. He slashed in the dark, grabbed her hand, and ran. Along the way, he dropped the knife. When it hit the ground with a cold clatter, it glowed soft pink again.

It was an unexplained incident. The kid must have cut himself. Won was, predictably, grounded for even being there. His father tried to argue in his favor, but his efforts proved futile.

His vision wasn't getting any better. It was almost like there was some great conspiracy to blur it each time he blinked. In the summer before college, Jaewon found out that he was likely to go blind. Not today, not tomorrow, but - probably - someday, he was going to go blind. He wouldn't lose all of his vision, he would probably still have good color vision. The optometrist was sickeningly pleased about that, he couldn't understand why. There was a small chance that if he did these exercises every day, and avoided too much screen time - maybe, just maybe, it might not get any worse.

Won got into his second choice college. He had always enjoyed Europe, and wanted to get away from everything. He continued to achieve and overachieve, even there. Political science was an obvious choice. Won didn't see his father much, but he respected him deeply.

The blurriness got worse, especially at night. Even during the day his eyes felt more sensitive. But he could still make out colors and movement clearly. Jaewon stubbornly adjusted. He didn't pretend nothing was happening, but he would if he could.

That summer, he decided to stay with his parents.

One evening, he went out with his mother. The next, his father was arrested. His father, who had always worked so hard to get the best for him. Who always advocated for him. A family man that put he and his sister first always.

Won was shaken. He went out to check the mail and nobody stopped him.

There was one thing about him that Jaewon could never figure out - the black rose tattoo. With a single wilted petal on the top left. He'd only seen it once or twice - when he took his suit jacket off. His vision was blurry, but here it was again: on the head of an unmarked letter. Someone had come by and left it there. Someone unaware of their family's predicament.

Won crumpled it up and hid it in his back pocket. He left the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter, then went back to his room. His hands shook as he opened the letter. He had to hold his phone up to it to read the text. He wasn't sure what exactly he expected to find: all it was was an address. And a little fine print at the bottom. He almost missed the picture that had fallen out of the envelope - if he hadn't stepped on it, he would have been in trouble.

He made up some excuse, he couldn't remember it anymore if he tried, and slipped out. Out of the house, down the street, past the corner - took a cab, then took the train, then walked a little further. He brought his cane with him but forgot the glasses. If he were local he would have left the white cane at home, but he found that was a bad idea in a new place. Anyone who tripped over it trying to get past him would have to suffer the consequences.

Jaewon had done a lot of thinking on the trip over.

He knocked on the door.
Knocked again.
One more time.

When the door opened, he swung the "cane" snug against his shoulder. Even in the dark, he could recognize him from his picture. His finger dropped down to the trigger and squeezed.

In the blink of an eye, it was a cane again. He slipped around a corner and walked away. Next time, he wouldn't forget the glasses. Black glasses and a white cane screamed blind.

Despite his fathers incarceration, the job was done. Jaewon had always been a filial son. He hadn't chosen politics because he was passionate about it - it was just what he thought he should do. Now, this was.

He checked the mail from then on. It took a while, but eventually another letter came. Unaddressed, of course.

This time he ditched the cane and glasses and showed up twelve hours early to the meeting place. There were questions, of course. As much as he had done the deed, Won was careful not to "come off" blind. He still had good color vision. Could see their motions - and he had learned to look toward sound.

Under the same cover, Won took up his fathers job. Got the black rose tattoo somewhere a little more discreet: his right shoulder blade. Then, he lived like a bird. With no family to haul around with him, that part was easy. Holding a legitimate job while bouncing around from place to place was the challenge.

When he came to visit, Won never let on about what he was doing. Not to his father, and certainly not to his mother. His vision continued to deteriorate.

He went where the wind (letters) sent him. Sometimes it would be months between contacts. Sometimes he preferred the quiet. But it kept the money coming - and that was all he was supposed to care about.

That was what life was, wasn't it? A steady rise to the top. His parents sacrificed so he could have a good one. And soon he'd be able to pay them back.

He would say that he turned his feelings off, but he'd done that a long time ago. It wasn't that he never felt bad about it - or never had second thoughts. But if these people were terrible enough that after everyone else took their cut he was seeing five figures, he figured he was doing the world a favor.

Won wasn't under any illusion that he would be able to continue doing it forever. Not his job - not his "job" - none of it. He was careful and continued to play as blind as he could (not that he wasn't far off, now) to keep the heat off him. It was only a matter of time until he lost. He just didn't expect it to go the way it did. With an addressed letter.

Most of those were spam or garbage. He read it, then threw it away.

He moved, then he got another. He read it again.

Jaewon had started on this path because it was what his father did. Now, he was dead. And he was beginning to think about what he actually wanted. Nobody had ever asked before and actually cared about the answer. The only thing that had excited him was the harp. Then he was in college, and too busy. Then he opened the wrong piece of mail, and was too busy.

Now, maybe he opened the right one. He was on his way out, anyhow. Won's vision had deteriorated so much he wasn't sure he could convince the bosses he was sighted anymore. Taking off was the best option. He could disappear for a year.

Before he left, Jaewon made arrangements for his mother to receive a nice chunk of change. Some pocket money. He was only thirty years old and gave his mom an allowance, so he didn't turn out too bad after all.


Other:
The Powers:
Weapon Proficiency, Touch- In Jaewon's hands, anything can become a weapon. While he can create a deadly weapon from almost anything, he doesn't automatically know how to use said weapon. It also has to be around the same size as the original object. For things like firearms, there is a limit to how much ammo they have. If the original object is destroyed, so is the weapon, and vice versa.