name ; Oliver-Felix Moon
nicknames ; Ollie, Felix
gender ; male
age ; seventeen
birthday ; sixth of April
bird ; the magpie
height ; five foot seven
weight ; one hundred and fifty pounds
eyes ; bright hazel
skin tone ; pale white
sexuality ; Bisexual
His personality could be described as kind, could be described as annoyingly caring. It depends on how you look at him, he cares for others with his whole heart, even if me claims he hates them. His father was shot while out in battle, not that he had not been expecting it. It had just really shaken him and become quite a sensitive subject. His mother died in a car crash a few years later and he has raised himself ever since. He has cared for himself, been the one to send himself to sleep and the one to bandage his own wounds. He is hard to make give up, he persists and always acts optimistic even in the worst of times. If asked if his glass is half full or half empty he will always say that said glass is half full, even on a bad day. He thinks that there is no point in being dragged down by your upset and worries, that you should just push on. Despite all of this good stuff about him he's a sucker for partying, he is also oblivious to insults. He is aware he annoys people just he is too arrogant to stop, he finds a sort of joy in it. He speaks his mind, he just lets the words flow.
He was born in Amsterdam, in the Netherlands however moved to Belgium when he was five. In the years leading up to his father's death, more specifically when he was around eight he moved around Europe a lot and ended up in Germany. He then moved to Canada with his mother, thinking it best they should move away from where his father died. He had witnessed his mother's death, they were going to go to the park when she was struck down by a reckless driver as they crossed the road, out of fear he had run, hiding in the bushes next to the road, he heard muttering as he watched the man from the car examine his mother before taking his cell phone from his pocket and calling an ambulance. When the ambulance had arrived Oliver had crept from the bush and had thrown himself to his mother, clinging to her. His eyes had been flowing with tears as they moved him away so they could examine the lifeless body of his mother. He watched with hawk-like eyes as they tried to get her to respond as they attempted revival.
Once his mother died he was taken to a therapist, he had to relieve the trauma of seeing his mother die in front of his eyes. He had only just finished his therapy when he was captured. His therapist had been a kind man with a long, angular face and round glasses perched upon a compact nose. He had a slightly intimidating stare however he was quite kind in the way he spoke. He always wore a business suit and his hair was slightly long and wavy, tied back in a small ponytail. He went through many months of only saying simple phrases, not wanting to speak more until when he could not contain it any more he broke down, the therapist being able to coax him into talking he let everything out about his mother's past that he knew and also about his father, and his dreams as a child. From then on most of the sessions consisted of the two talking back and forth about nice, happy topics and occasionally Oliver would sit and draw while the therapist watched.
When he turned sixteen he was grabbed from the streets and taken by men in coats, his struggle was fierce and he almost got away but sudden weakness allowed him to be taken. When he woke he found that he had wings, he had stretched them and then his eyes had shone with a new hope. He stood up and tried to fly however was not successful. At that moment, all hopes of his dreams finally being able to come true were destroyed, as he sat there and let out a few tears, wondering what to do now he thought of his past, the kind therapist and his parents. The good times in his life, never the bad. His life had changed, but he had been ready for it.
