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Misanthropic Adept
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Character Age: 41
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Last Seen: Mar 25 2015, 11:28 PM
Local Time: Jul 18 2018, 06:55 PM
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Ben Honee


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Apr 22 2014, 12:19 AM
A bad morning made for a mischievous day and honestly Ben had been feeling lousy after Ryan had bolted out the door, though he couldn't stay he blamed the guy. Ugh he was still feeling like a right prick after all that, and that meant he had to blow off some steam on the most convenient victim he could think of. Because if he felt like a prick he might as well be one.

It took only a couple of minutes to send enough funeral wreaths and sprays to fill the entirety of Fenwick and Blackwood, sure it took a lot of money too, but he had both, time and cash but knowing it would drive his former roommate mad? You couldn't put a price on that. "Uh huh, yes...say Condolences on your Love-life. A little heart and then the name Ben." A few affirming grunts and a rattling off of his credit card and the deed was done, and the man couldn't have been more pleased with himself if he tried, he was nothing but grins as he took off for the rest of the day, going right to his regular haunting spot in Greenwich so a certain harlequin Great Dane man could find him.

Ben sat on the veranda of a little cafe putting his phone on silent as he waited patiently, ordering himself an espresso and a couple of biscottis to keep him company in the meantime, there would have been a once upon a time where he would have lit up a cigarette- but ordenances as they were he had to deny himself that pleasure for now. Instead he delighted himself in thinking of what Tobias' face would look like as he stomped his way down the street to thank him for such a thoughtful gift.

He checked the time. "Hmmm...little late." Ben rolled his eyes up considering for just a moment that maybe, just maybe someone wasn't going to show up, but he prided himself in knowing protocol, both in humans and machines...and Tobias had never let him down once, so maybe it was just a case of the florist being a bit late on such a large order. But when it did finally appear, he knew it wouldn't be long. Certain of it really.
Mar 8 2014, 03:15 AM

Player Name: Squeeji

Character Name: Benjamin James Honee

Alias: Ben, asdfghjkl;' [Web Handle, traditionally 'pronounced' FaceRoll or Keyboard Smash]

Age: 41

Affiliation: Virtual Adept, Cryptogramics (sorry Cypherpunk is just NOT going to fly, he's over twenty-five thank you very much.)

PB: Hugh Dancy

Appearance: --

Personality: Ben sounds for all intents and purposes like a grand old misanthrope. He generally dislikes the majority of the teaming masses that prattle on endlessly about things that don't matter like they do matter. He can go either way with a person, but put him with people and he can feel nothing but pure vitriol surging through his body at the idea of having to deal with a group of humanity. Even still he's a man who'd much rather deal with animals, sentient machines or even some forms of self aware biomass then he would any of his own species for any extended period of time.

This in part comes from feeling utterly isolated for the most part. Ben grew up thinking his expanding potential was nothing more then signs of a rotten mind, and labels left scars in him that ran from the inside, out. You'd hardly know by looking at him but the damage his avatar left on him runs deep- but his pill regime has been streamlined to the point that he almost seems completely normal. Sure he has his ticks, and his bad days. Something that he's incredibly self conscious about...certainly he tries to laugh it off, but it makes him feel less than human most of the time, which has caused him over the years to distance himself from others, though which came first...his feelings towards his fellow man or his run in with a rude and late awakening is really something of a chicken or the egg debate.

He watches people more than he speaks to them, usually more baffled by their behavior than they are by his- observation gives him quite a bit of insight in how they do things even though he doesn't get it... It's all a bit like programming to him, he gets what makes it work, but not how it works. The rest is just trial and error until things fall into the right places. In that way there is very little difference between a person and a machine to him. They're both faulty but in some inexplicable way it all makes a cohesive structure.

But in the end when forced to interact, he's a kind soul. Misanthropy or no. When he finds someone willing to spend time with him and forgive his eccentricities- that he actually can trust, Ben is loyal to a fault, doting towards those he cares for with an affection that seems abnormal to those who would only know him in passing. Even among those that he's not so so fond with he's patient with them to the point of being exasperating, he seemingly forgives any slight against him, for better or for worse.

Patient to a fault and quick to forgive and forget, he's not exactly the type who takes being tested with grace. Other then being aggressively passive rather then passive aggressive. There's just something absolutely wrong with the way he conducts himself. No matter how hard he tries, Ben is just abrasive, he's loud, his word choices are terrible...his sense of humor is crass- but typically he directs it more towards himself than others, but he doesn't always have a handle on what he's really doing. Which makes him sound a bit like he's always on the verge of ranting and raving at the slightest provocation. Really his attitude is like giving a toddler a handgun, potent but like hell if he's got any direction with it.

History: If you asked Ben, the difference between his early years and the present could almost be considered a different life then the one he grew accustomed to. One he was vaguely ashamed of- The son of a coal miner and the youngest in a family of seven siblings, he grew up in the mountains of Virginia in a ratty tar paper shack without electricity or running water, just nothing but mostly fallow farm land being worked to death as far as the eye could see. Surrounded by cousins, nieces and nephews- there wasn't much peace to be had....

With his parents constantly busy keeping the homestead together, and his older louder siblings taking up the bulk of attention, Ben was happy to fade into the wallpaper it allowed him to indulge in behavior his highly conservative father particularly frowned upon...a quiet bookish child, he filled his home schooled life with information that his vastly lacking education didn't give him- he gobbled up everything, papers, magazines anything of print didn't escape his hungry mind-he especially loved information about technology...or the rare Science Fiction book that passed through his hands. He often dreamt of something bigger than his small life; through out his young life, Ben's time outside home was the three times a week he dressed up and went to church.

As Ben grew older, his behavior went from shy to something more erratic, always considered a bit off, it came apparent that by the time he hit puberty that he was more than a bit disturbed, he had grown wild and often inconsolable, prone to fits and accusations. While his parents wondered what happened...what went wrong, Benjamin ended up going to church more and more in hopes of praying the 'demons' out of him. It took some convincing by the minister himself to get the boy any real assistance.

By the time he was considered an adult, Ben found himself on a cocktail of medications that suppressed most, if not all of his symptoms- as well as the majority of his ability to feel. But he knew he wasn't happy, he couldn't stay out in the middle of nowhere forever...his world was too small, he felt like he was suffocating, so without saying much of anything, he packed his bags and left westward, taking a bus to California to the budding Silicon Valley of San Jose, a far cry from the poverty stricken world he lived in before.

He got lost in the big city but he never looked back, one of the best things for him was being accepted into Stanford before having to give up and go on home, though not the smartest student, or the richest...Ben paid his way through school as a research assistant, never one to have a good time or any fun as he tore tooth and nail to get anywhere with with his life, by the time he graduated, all there was left was to take that momentum and keep going- with what money he could get from the government, he moved to New York City, taking a dive as he accepted a masters program through the City University of New York...

The work load was a lot lighter, and Ben found he could breathe better. He found himself a roommate, some art-school trust fund baby named Tobias. The two got along well enough, actually...gun to his head at the time, it was probably the happiest moments of his life. He had a friend, and sure while they did nothing of any important other then be foul college students- it was nice, it made him feel a bit like a human being. The two smoked their share of trees and slacked their way towards expected, because by the time Ben graduated again it was simply one of those things that felt so inevitable.

Sort of like creating his own startup company afterwards, so while his roomie moved out, Ben focused in on making a name for himself as a security programmer- at first in the height of the Dot.Com Boom he did well for himself. Of course, then the Dot.Com Burst followed suit in less then a year, and with it...went Ben's livelihood and that facade of normalcy he had spent years upon years building up to keep himself safe from his own mind. With everything going wrong around him, he could only see other things wrong, it built up as the bills started to stack up and he started to not to see the point on taking his pills or trying. Losing long stretches of time, Ben found himself bankrupt and when he came to half dead in some institution after an alleged assault with a golf-cart, he didn't really see the point of checking himself out.

Though deemed no threat to himself or others, Ben had decided that it was best to stay where he was, every day a reminder that he had failed. Which was fine, he couldn't live with anyone, he couldn't live without anybody and he sure as hell couldn't function as a successful human being if being one meant what he thought it did. Though things he thought felt a lot different then they had in the haze he felt before, his mind didn't feel like a bird thrashing up against a cage- the world didn't feel so small, yet it made him wonder if he could possibly be the only one who wanted something bigger...he had gone far from where he started, but still, it didn't feel like enough. Between a schedule that felt safe and stifling, he found himself spending more and more time on the computer, and having it make much more sense then it once had. It was there, on the internet he met Wiseman, and the two got to talking, and that was about when he knew that it wasn't just him that was crazy, but Wiseman insisted that if Ben had found him, and the two of them were talking, there was more to him then something in his head. Though it took some convincing, Ben checked himself out and found himself drawn to some internet cafe in Brooklyn.

And what a long strange trip that had been...thirteen years later, some war he wasn't even part of, and Ben had found himself a Kibo of the Virtual Adepts, and while being on the winning side of something he didn't care about one little bit was interesting. Really it was more the information, and the playing the game of hiding it that he enjoyed the most. Separating the wheat from the chaff so to speak, which was something that an old farm boy got all too well. Though even that was ages say the least.

More importantly he was able to start up another small company, have a small staff of other Adepts because he owed some favors....and of course he's still in Wiseman's pocket so to speak, but hey, he's back on track, life is again something he's living albeit it a bit tangentially though he's happy with what he's got. Though he's always been one who has wanted more- and his eyes have started to wander more domestic leanings...but for now he's content still playing code monkey for his Virtual Adept overlords, who fortunately haven't figured out how to spawn more- which makes him a big fish in a very small, and as he sees it...relatively dumb pond.

Special Skills, Abilities, Notes:
Foci | “Aberrations of the human mind are to a large extent due to the obsessional pursuit of some part-truth, treated as if it were a whole truth.” ― Arthur Koestler, The Ghost in the Machine
Ben works on the idea that nothing you see or hear should be taken at face value, especially on the internet...ESPECIALLY when conducted by the hands of his fellow Adepts. Information pulled from the mouths and hands of man is flawed...The trick is reading between the lines, only to find how absolutely disgusting that line really is.

There is no real trick or subtlety in pulling out the 'truth' from somebody, yank it out of the time stream or pull it out of someone's ratty skull...there really aren't many options. After that it's easy business hiding it here and there for someone clever to find. If there is anyone truly clever to find it. Of course information is free, but nothing worthwhile is ever given easily.

Also...while computers are fun- they and the digital web are simply tools made by man, no one celebrates the hammer that crafted the sculpture. The Sculptor or if you prefer -the human mind- while the source of such corrupted truth is the only point of infinite possibility...which means that all knowledge is truly flawed, something to think about and something fun to annoy the kids with.

Avatar (Circumspect) | Avatar? What avatar? Ben sure as hell hasn't seen any bolt out of the blue orchestrating his life, and no one else has either. Which suits him just fine.

Mind: 3
Time: 3
Entropy: 2
Correspondence: 2
Nov 18 2013, 10:02 PM
It had been hard to go home, if you could even call it that...he had curled up in his hovel in the South Bronx...damn near Manhattan, but it had been no trek to get over there from where Ryan had lived. The problem was being there honestly, the desperation of it the name of survival, but now he wasn't so very content to just survive. He wanted just a little bit more, and as he laid down on the blankets he he squirreled away in some neglected city service culvert, Ben found himself listless somewhere between over the moon about the night's previous activities, and down in the gutter given the fact he was practically nesting in one. Which made sleep welcome when it came, clocking him out like the dead he actually was and mercifully quiet throughout the day.

Of course that level unease snapped him back awake with purpose when the sun finally went down. Ben was up in a flurry of activity, trying to get up and get ready while tumble out of the sewers like his unlife depended on how fast he got his ass together and looking somewhat presentable. Which was some feat, going through the old rags he sported as clothes until he found some passable wears that weren't yesterday's outfit. A pair of brown corduroys and a baggy sweater...not exactly fancy, but he sort of prayed that Ryan wasn't the sort that wanted to go to some black tie affair.

UGH Ryan, the name put a fluttery feeling in his stomach and made him more and more anxious about himself then he would really wanted. Did he look nice enough? Because he knew that the other kindred would no doubt look fantastic. Was he simply presentable? His roving took him to a gas station where he checked to make sure he was still clean and groomed, a little straightening up and Ben tried to smile in the mirror, but more than anything he felt ashamed.

Liar...he was being completely and entirely untrustworthy and not truthful to the vampire who had so far been nothing but kind to him, who wanted to see him again, who he wanted to see again. As he looked at his reflection he name near wanted to call it off, not even call at all and leave it be. Would be best that way, he wasn't the type of kindred that Ryan should hang out with anyways, he would be bound to get him in trouble.

Of course he thought that, but as soon as his mind was almost made up to call the whole thing off, the alarm on his phone went off, and Ben found he couldn't do it. He had promised. He remembered those pretty blue eyes and that enthusiasm on that face- no he couldn't do it, he just pictured all of that looking sad and no he didn't have it in him. Not one little bit, not even in the name of good sense and self preservation. So stepping out of the bathroom he pulled out the card from his pocket and dialed the numbers with some hesitation and let the damn thing ring.

He almost hung up, just almost...and the longer it rang the more he felt like it, but he was all in now.
Oct 31 2013, 11:29 PM
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Ben here..HAH! Yeah you got me, I'm actually not here but leave a message at the sound of the beep and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can.

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Oct 19 2013, 04:45 PM
It was quiet, well relatively, at least while all the world was sound and the fury signifying nothing his thoughts were still, which was unsettling but Ben reminded himself that most of the time, this was how he guessed most people felt, it was strange, but he walked along, whistling as he didn't think much about anything, because he didn't have to at all. His gait had a bit of a hitch in his getup as he noted that the night was getting shorter than it was longer...about time to head on home, or whatever hiding spot he could get to easiest, he knew his way around the city well enough, at least he knew where his places were. But the nearest one was on the other side of the last place he wanted to go through.

Central Park was a gorgeous place, he had always seen it in pictures, lit up by the sun and looking so inviting, but it was a place that was two faced and unkind, when darkness fell the trees and architecture that made it so appealing made it a place for greater monsters than himself to prowl. Even at his most blood thirsty, he couldn't hold a candle to the humans that preyed upon the innocent in the shadows. But there was little way he could make his way around the park proper before he met the dawn on the other side.

Sadly, the shortest route in this case was between two points, and the space of unfriendly green nestled between them. Ben knew well enough he wasn't immortal, not truly, certainly barring incident he could live forever, but he had seen his like cut down and he didn't know where the true threshold of damage ended for something like him. A mugger could do him in perhaps. Maybe with some clever knife-work or a good shot. The idea put a chill down his spine like an icy finger dragging down his flesh. There was no better choice of course, do nothing and die, chance it and he still might die, but this was what he got for not keeping note of the time.

Still, Ben straightened up and puffed out his chest trying to look confident even though he swore he wanted to cry, that wasn't his paranoia speaking, that was the fear of a man who had watched nothing but SVU when he got home from work, but there was no Benson and Stabler that would find his corpse if he met his end, as un-untimely as it would be. The thought of some jogger in the morning finding his ashes did a bit to make him feel better as he continued his whistle and his walk, trying to look like he belonged where he was, even though he felt like if it weren't the turf of rapists and thieves, it was at the very least the the safe space of someone he had wanted to consider a friend, before he had done something to scare her off. No he didn't belong, but he reminded himself that he was passing through to the hole in the ground that was where sub-human things could nest.

Though as he walked, he grew most and more unsettled, his whistling coming out in strained wheezing as his composure started to break, as that worry started to fill his head, something more familiar, the lights barely broke the shadows a man's stretch away and he swore he could hear rustling, suddenly he found his lips dry, and unable to make that noise that for awhile had been somewhat polarizing and calming, the sound of an owl hooting very nearly made himself jump out of his skin as he started to run, off the safe and known path and into the brambles, like a scared rabbit under the beating of wings.
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