Bio.

[readjusting]

BASICS

name
Clark Harris Claypool
Clark Harris Stone

alias
Harris, but not Harry. And also not Clark. He'd tolerate Stone.

division
Security.

occupation
Trainee Security Officer

age & dob
20, October 25, 2003

pronouns
He/Him

family
Hypatia Stone (Mom)
Chet Claypool (Biological Father)
     ↳ Carmen Claypool (Sibling)


Montserrat Stone (Aunt)
Sparrow Freling (Uncle)
     ↳ Shiloh Stone (Cousin)
     ↳ Joss Stone (Cousin)


Florence Stone (Aunt)

CONCEPT

Prince Zuko without the daddy issues–oh wait.

POWERS

pyrokinesis;
At present, Harris can produce fire when coupled with emotional responses. But he doesn’t have the ability to call for it when he wants it. When extremely upset, the flames are much larger than when he's simply annoyed, frustrated, or startled. The latter are more pops of flame, a foot or two in size or as small as sparks. When he's upset or angry, the flames are much larger--four to six feet--but this has only happened once, so far.

He can unknowingly regulate his own temperature and potentially any room he’s in if his body heat starts to radiate out of him. (Kind of like when a room has too many people in it and the temp goes up!) Likewise, he cannot be burned, but if someone touches him, he could burn them unintentionally. On the fun side, it is a lot easier to roast a marshmallow without catching it on fire if you hover it juuuust over top of his skin! Perfectly golden brown every time.

Harris has no idea the full extent of his powers, but he knows that he can conjure flame without the need of a spark. He’ll be able to control, produce, and manipulate fire. Eventually, this could lead to creating weapons out of flame, shields, and the possibility of propulsion by flame. He can already breathe fire, but it’s absolutely not something he can do without practice. All of this is unattainable for him at the moment beyond accidental emotional responses.

Unless it's a lot of water, Harris is impervious to attacks by it. He burns hot enough on the regular that it boils and evaporates. You'd have to essentially drown him.


smokescreen;
Where there’s fire, there’s smoke. Harris has the ability to produce a lot of smoke–even if nothing is burning directly. He can use it sort of like a fog machine to hide himself and make a quick get away. It absolutely smells like a really good campfire.

Like a dragon, this usually comes from his exhales--both nostrils or his mouth if it's open. However, he will also be able to do this with his hands if he rubs them together to create friction. He just doesn't know the ins and outs of his powers yet.


cold sensitivity;
Vermont’s about to be the worst place for Harris with its delightful snowball fights and blizzards and whatever else happens in the winter. Though his body runs hot, the cold temperature will soothe some of the fire out of Harris. In fact, his sensitivity to cold makes his powers work far less–by about half. I guess if he gets out of control, just push in him a blast freezer! Expect to see him bundled up all winter long.

PERSONALITY

positive; Generous, Observant, Resourceful, Serious, Perceptive

neutral; Sensitive, Reserved, Stubborn, Impulsive, Resentful

negative; Loyal, Willful, Trusting, Independent, Protective

Harris isn't your typical, overachieving eldest son. He's always been quiet, reserved. He's an observer rather than a participant. A wallflower.

He's been content to follow the leader for most of his life rather than lead himself.

APPEARANCE

🔥 6’1, finally filling out his frame with some muscles, hazel eyes. He refuses to wear glasses, so he has contacts, but he forgets to put them in half the time, so he does a lot of squinting.

style; When he’s gotta dress up nicely, he will. But otherwise, it’s jeans and a hoodie. Some flannels. Hats. Whatever seems like it’s easy enough to blend in and disappear.

tattoos; None yet. But he’s planning on it once he has the money. (Listen, finding a reputable artist means that the cost is steep and he has bills to pay.) Who wants to go with him?

scars;

🩹 He scratched all of his chicken pox so he had scars. He had a brief bout with really bad acne.

🩹 His eyebrows are still wonky from that time he went along with a prank and had them waxed off.

🩹 He broke his nose as a kid and the doctor said he’d need a nose job when he was older, but that never seemed needed? He does have a little squiggly start at the very top of his nose, though!

🩹 He’s currently sporting road rash on both forearms and knees/shins from a biking accident.

🩹He has a scar on his left wrist from where the neighbor’s dog bit him. Maybe if he’d left the scab alone, it would’ve healed correctly.

HISTORY

CONTENT WARNINGS: Unstable home life, parental divorce, cutting (to see if he's a Liminal, not self-abuse), manipulative parent, almost burning his house down.

It’s unlikely that, at any point in his life so far, anyone has ever called Harris chipper. His mom was young when she had him, still in college and barely an adult. His father could never be called ‘well-meaning’ in any circumstance. But they both said that they loved him as he was growing up, which … was important. Harris was three when he noted the way Chet spoke to Hypatia. And while he didn’t understand the whispered tone or the things he said–Harris knew it wasn’t right and he knew it shouldn’t last.

As often as possible, Harris was velcroed to Hypatia’s side. If she was cooking, he wanted to help. If she was reading, he was reading at her side. (He read his first book at two. Having two brainy parents can help in the nerd department.) If she was outside, he was outside. His aunt called him Hypatia’s shadow and it wasn’t wrong. He knew that as long as he was there, Chet wouldn’t consider saying anything unkind around his children.

Harris’ insistence on following Hypatia around often led to unbecoming quirks or habits. If she did the laundry without him, he’d hold his breath until his entire face and ears and neck turned bright red and he’d pass out. If she was going somewhere and didn’t allow him to go with her (listen, everyone needs time away from their kids), he would take every book off of his book shelves and put them back the wrong way. He’d strip any posters or colored pages from his walls and throw them away. If Chet managed to squeeze in a nasty comment at dinner or the hallway–somewhere Harris could hear–he would count as high as he knew, making up numbers, until he panicked and began to sob. (Which was probably enough of a distraction that Chet left her alone, tbh.)

When Hypatia finished school and devoted herself to being a housewife, Harris was even more content to watch her bake for them. He learned the best way to crack eggs to avoid bits of shell getting in the bowl. He learned the importance of sifting flour and sugar. The reason for creaming butter and eggs. The reason for letting things rest before baking or eating. Whatever she made tasted far better than anything they got from a restaurant or a store. His friends called him a snob for declining their packaged sweets at school. He never traded lunch components.

Surprisingly, Harris did extremely well in school. Where Hypatia had instilled a love of reading and exploration, the classroom was devoid of any requirement for him to protect his parent or his sibling from Chet. Instead, he thrived with the attention of his fellow students, often offered to read aloud, and taught no less than five of his classmates how to tie their shoes when their parents couldn’t. Harris was invited to every party, as was custom, and attended every single one–usually dragging at least three or four friends with him. While he didn’t particularly stand out as a leader, he wasn’t a follower either. He simply noticed who needed a little extra kindness.

Two extremely intelligent parents yielded an extremely intelligent child who skipped second grade and went straight to third. (Some of his friends were not happy about being left behind.) After a bout of bullying, his teacher suggested an exercise that showed the class how to better use their words to be kind to one another. Discreetly, the homework was slipped into Chet’s briefcase before he went to work.

The move to Atlanta was welcome. It was warmer there and his father seemed happy with his job. IRIS had a lot of opportunities for growth as new discoveries about Liminals were made. While Harris was sad about leaving his friends and his teachers, he much preferred the warmer weather. They were close enough to a library that he could walk to after school and then follow a simple path home.

He excelled in every class except Phys. Ed. because he didn’t want to swim. He didn’t like changing into different clothes at school. It made him feel awkward as his body was rapidly accelerating from four-foot something toward six-foot one. Along with the embarrassment, the clothes that didn’t fit anymore, and the usual awkwardness of puberty came growing pains so intense that he often skipped dinner in favor of lying in bed, grinding his teeth to avoid crying about it.

Harris had grown less dependent on his mother over time, but he still gravitated toward her over anyone else in their immediate family. Second to his mother was Aunt Florence, who encouraged his interest in reading, cooking, and also encouraged stepping outside of his comfort zones. His dislike of his father ebbed and flowed. For the most part, they didn’t clash too often–as least not outwardly.

And then … Harris’ entire world tilted.

When Hypatia left for testing and registration, Chet forced him and Carmen to pack all of their stuff and leave. They stayed at a hotel until Chet found them a place to live. If Harris had been given a choice, he would have picked his mother every time. But he wasn’t.

Every day for a year he begged Chet to let Hypatia come back.

When Chet snapped at him that he wouldn’t have a Liminal living under his roof, let alone stand being married to one, Harris withered. And then…he made it his mission to prove Chet wrong. Instead of spending his time at school, he skipped. He went hunting rifts for exposure. He checked himself daily to test for purple blood. He snuck into his father’s study to read reports about the rifts and the research on Liminals. He skipped classes and purposefully flunked tenth grade. He was held back to repeat and only decided to finish out the year when he ended up in classes with his sister.

He graduated with plans of moving out and finding his own place, but didn’t have enough money to commit. Aunt Flo would’ve let him move to Iowa except the idea of snow made him cringe. That and leaving all of his friends. He got a job instead of applying for college – something that infuriated his father. When he wasn’t slinging burgers, he was chasing radiation, still slicing himself open, still hunting down any excuse to ruin his father’s life.

In mid 2022, Harris made the decision to legally change his name. The whims of an eighteen year old made it feel like the ultimate punishment. No longer Clark–he rebranded himself as Harris. Harris Stone.

The week of August 21st, after a conversation with his Aunt Florence, he was asked why, if he cared about Hypatia so much, had he not ever written her back? The question made his blood run cold. While Chet was at work, he ransacked both his bedroom, the study, the attic, and finally the basement–where he found stacks of letters addressed to him and his sister.

Infuriated, Harris finally confronted his father. He held the letters in his hands and tossed them down onto the kitchen table. Then he pulled out the birth certificate showing his new name. He no longer claimed to be any part of Chet. When Chet started to yell, the room spun and Harris all but vomited flames.

Initially stunned, he seized a knife and quickly sliced open his hand, dripping purple blood all over the kitchen tile. With Chet yelling at him to get out of his house, Harris came undone. He roared, spitting venomous words and breathing literal fire, until the gravity of the situation caught up to him. He took the stacks of letters, his backpack, and fled. Which…eventually led to IRIS finding him (naked, burned off all his clothes), bringing him in, and deciding to place him at Enodia–despite lots of protestation.

NOTES

🔥 Unfortunately very clumsy. He runs into walls, counters, chairs, etc. He's always covered in bruises and never quite knows where they come from. Better to not let him carry any trays or anything. He's broken more glasses than he can count.

🔥 Has saved every single dollar from every birthday, christmas, tooth fairy, etc, to have quite a sum. He used this money to buy Betty (formerly Glenda), his motorcycle. She was not always so impressive. He's done all of the work on her himself.

🔥 He's allergic to bees and walnuts. (He might also be lactose intolerant, but he refuses to acknowledge this.)

🔥 Takes after his mother and his grandparents as far as looks go, but has Chet's eyes, which makes him avoidant of mirrors. It's one of the reasons he wears colored contacts.

🔥 Before he worked in a fast food restaurant, he also worked at a laundromat doing laundry for people (payment by the weight of the clothes) and had the highest rating of anyone they'd had hold the position before. He loves doing laundry. Likewise, he prefers clean, neat spaces and struggles with mess. He's the type of friend who'll get an invite just to clean your place while you eat chips out of the bag with your gross hands.

🔥 Loves to lay in the sun like a cat. Truly digs the heat like a lizard with a sunlamp. He's usually covered in layers of clothes.

🔥 Might have followed his parents toward university, Masters, pHD, had it not been for Chet. He's always loved math and science. Now he pretends to not care about anything. :)

❤️: Reading, animals, coffee, Freshly Baked Chocolate Chip Cookies, riding his bike, photography, helping other people, anything that really pisses off Chet
🚫: Superheroes, Santa Claus (and any things related to him), ostriches, organized religion, the depths of the ocean but not pictures of it, the practice of snow (he likes the idea of it), anything with more than four legs

OOC

Stevie . EST-US . Nick Robinson . Discord, Email, Dropbox.

code