Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Topics - Gideon

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 9
Approved Profiles / Declan Aduain
« on: October 03, 2019, 03:46:35 PM »
Name and Occupation
- Taken Name: Declan Aduain
- Pronunciation of the Name: Dec-lan Ah-doo-in
- Name Etymology: Declan took his name as a tongue-in-cheek joke for one of the first personas he adopted while undercover. Declan found the name fit better than his native Russian one when he took it on for a mission and kept it ever since. Declan is an Irish name meaning “man full of prayer” or “man full of goodness”. His surname is Gaelic for faceless.
- Given Name: Declan was generally referred to simply as “Avariya”. A Russian word for accident.
- Pronunciation of the Name: Ee-vah-reh-yuh
- Character Job: Formerly a spy working directly under Canaan Primal and Israel Sodom. Unemployed in the wake of the Côte d’Ivoire Sanctuary Massacre, currently writing a book on symbols. Inter-dimensional artifact hunter when the mood strikes.
- Qualifications: Blackshield Training, extensive espionage and infiltration experience during and following the war. He’s really not qualified to hunt otherworldly artifacts, but if he’s honest there isn’t really anyone else in the game right now.
- Titles: Subject Twenty Six (his Blackshield designation), Merizi (Amharic word for poison). Roughly eleven million versions of the title and nickname “Spider”.

Character Mentality
- Character Personality: Declan’s true personality is best described simply as “cold”. His training during the War removed a significant amount of his original personality up until recently. But almost no one knows what Declan is actually like as, by his estimation, only six people have seen him wearing his own face and talking with his own voice for more than a few moments within the last 50 years.
 While his emergence from deep cover slowly reminding him how to function normally, Declan has spent almost 300 of his 400 years of life pretending to be various different people. As such he’s actually less comfortable when actually being himself than when in a disguise of some kind. Without his facade and voice alteration symbols, Declan can be withdrawn and sullen. He struggles to relate to other people on a regular human level, finding their emotions and seemingly sudden outbursts to be overwhelming without the shield of being someone else to protect him. When wearing his own face, Declan can go through extreme mood changes of his own. Going from feelings of elation to a complete crash in minutes when he doesn’t have the anchor of a character to play or a mission to complete. His changes in mood are often associated with the people around him. He has extreme reactions to both praise and criticism, positive and negative. His temper is rather short, but he rarely directs it at anyone but himself. Even at the height of his rage, Declan is more inclined to harm himself in some respect than he is to lash out at anyone else.
  Declan is incredibly desensitized to violence of all kinds, a result of complex PTSD developed during the War and his actions therein. Many of his memories of the war, particularly from his time working with Blackshield, are repressed, and he will never discuss them for fear that his active dissociation from his actions will melt away and reveal the deep scars hidden beneath. Declan has no qualms about murder. The nature of his job during and after the War meant that every mission guaranteed he would kill at least one person, and after his twelfth mission it simply became his job. This emotional avoidance is yet another reason Declan is most comfortable when he isn’t himself. As long as Declan Aduain is hidden beneath someone else, he never has to answer for what he’s done. That being said, Declan very rarely experiences the horrific flashbacks that many others who fought in the African War have.
 Declan’s naturally detached and seemingly disinterested appearance gives him a very distinct and Laconic sense of humor. While he doesn’t often intend to be funny or to make light of a situation, his inclination to respond with very blunt and to-the-point observations can make it seem that he’s cracking a one-liner or delivering a roast. Depending on the company that Declan finds himself in, this can make him either naturally charismatic or very annoying. Both of which have drastic effects on how he proceeds in any given interaction.
 Due to his… rocky start in life and his capture toward the end of the War, Dec fears being abandoned in the extreme. As such he will often go out of his way to avoid forming close personal attachments out of fear they’ll leave one day. Declan is consciously aware that he uses disguise as a coping mechanism, and chooses not to acknowledge it as best he can. At his core, Declan is terrified of what might happen if he were to reveal to anyone what he truly is beneath the facade tattoos and Cleaver enhancements. He wants to be comfortable wearing his own face, but the idea of how people would react to him as Declan keeps him from ever truly being honest. Even something as simple as an employee at a coffee shop remembering his name can make him uncomfortable, because from that moment on he feels as though his cover is about to be blown, and the random mortal behind the counter will know what he really is, and they’ll leave.
 Declan has never really felt like he has a place in the world or in society. He’s never called a place “home”. Regardless of how well he blends in and no matter how much the people around might understand him, Declan always feels out of place and alone. 
 Declan is a social chameleon above all else. The chance of anyone actually learning how damaged Declan has been by his experiences and mental health is slim to none. Depending on the situation he finds himself in, whether disguised or not, Declan can be a completely different person from moment to moment. This is primarily a defense mechanism building off of his deep-seated fear of abandonment and his need to be affirmed and fit in and is a skill that his job and training only helped hone further. When he has a specific character to play or a role to fulfill, Declan is laser-focused and never deviates from the persona he’s taken on.
 As with most people that undergo a Soul Bond, it had a distinct effect on Declan from the moment it was formed. Declan and his interactions with the Soul Bond are complicated by his mental state. The idea of being so fundamentally connected to someone else, even if that person is someone he genuinely cares deeply for, is something that Declan doesn't always know how to deal with. Additionally, having lived with a gnawing sensation that he doesn't truly belong anywhere, the idea of a Soul Mate is simultaneously a wonderful realization and a horrifying burden. On one hand, Declan can say he genuinely belongs at Siobhan's side. After all, a Soul Bond happens for a reason, it isn't a one-sided endeavor. On the other, Declan is terrified by such a deep connection. His constant, nagging feeling that the people close to him will only be there for a fleeting moment means that the Soul Bond can actually amplify his fear of abandonment and his predisposition toward self-harm and self-criticism, with anything harm that comes to Siobhan oftentimes causing Declan to feel as though there was something he could have done to prevent it, or that he was the cause of it by some feat of mental gymnastics.
 - Character Likes:
+ Symbols: Declan’s first love and the thing that occupies his mind almost as often as where he wants to go next. Despite his best efforts at hiding them, Declan is an extremely emotional creature, and symbols provide an extremely diverse and fascinating way of expressing himself once the more advanced arts of Symbology come into play. The ability to seemingly never run out of things to learn is something Declan hasn’t found in any other kind of magic, and something that he tries to apply to everything else that he can.
+ Language: Building off his love for symbolism just as much as vice versa, Declan has a deep love and appreciation for words and languages of all kinds. On a regular basis, Declan will hear a word or a phrase that he’s never heard before and be utterly consumed by what it is based on nothing other than how it sounds. No matter how benign or uncouth the word might be. 
+ Disguise: While it is most definitely a coping mechanism, there is something to be said for the sheer amount of dedication that he has to the art of disguise and his love of the skill. Beyond using his symbols, Declan deeply enjoys coming up with ways to hide who he is beyond covering up his facial features and build. He can talk at length about ways to blend in and use simple tricks to hide who you are even without advanced abilities like his.
+ Approval/Praise: Just as much as Declan fears and reacts negatively to his own failures and feeling disapproved of, Declan is dependant on and revels in the approval of others. Small compliments or praises to his abilities can drastically change his mood for the better in almost any circumstance.
+ Beer: Much like with his other favorite things, Declan finds the craftsmanship that goes into brewing beer to be wonderfully fascinating. He doesn’t generally like to talk about the fact that he developed a taste for the beverage while undercover as a member of the Nazi Party, but it was when he encountered large amounts of beer for the first time.
- Character Dislikes:
- Being Exposed: Somewhat of a generic term, with the singular exception of being with Siobhan,  Declan doesn’t like to feel as though he isn’t hidden in any way shape or form. Wearing his own face, wearing clothes that he’s been seen in before or being honest about his past or his emotions, anything that could provide information on who he is and the things that he’s done are all things Declan will avoid with every fiber of his being.
- Disapproval/Failure: Above everything else, Declan’s feelings and choices are based on how other people react to him. While he can hide it for the sake of his cover if need be, when he fails to accomplish a task that he was assigned it affects him deeply, and if that failure is discovered and brought to his attention it can be crushing, no matter how small that failure may have been.
- Abandonment: One of Declan’s most mind consuming thoughts and fears is the idea that he will be left behind by people that he cares about. Of course, his cold mentality and general thought process can mean that being abandoned is his own fault, but to recognize that would require him to acknowledge who he is and what he’s done.
- The War: The War, in general, is a touchy subject for most mages. While Declan doesn’t particularly mind talking about the War in broad terms, when it gets into a discussion of Project Blackshield or specific actions that he was involved in the conversation can get a lot more difficult for him to take part in. Generally, when discussing such actions, Declan will refer to them as though he wasn’t there. This is most notable when he mentions the infiltrators where he will discuss the group as though he wasn’t a member
- Mental Traits: Declan suffers from severe Borderline Personality Disorder, which causes his seemingly random switches in emotional state and demeanor, as well as being the source of his extreme dependence on the approval of others. Due to his immense amount of time spent in deep cover over his extended life, Declan has developed symptoms similar to Dissociative Identity Disorder. Previous people he has impersonated or identities that he has created can manifest as completely separate entities within Declan’s mind. In many cases, he considers the Declan that was alive and operating during the War to be someone completely different than the Declan that lives today. He will refer to other identities, or to himself at other times in his life, in the third person as though he wasn’t actually the person in that moment. When it comes to the art forms that Declan enjoys and the skills that he hones, Declan is a staunch precisionist. Where other practitioners of symbology might decide to make small changes or creative freedom with particularly complex symbols to allow them greater freedom in their creation and manipulation, Declan is not about that life. He will beat his head against a brick wall determining the exact way to replicate a symbol properly until it works as intended, in all ways a perfect recreation of the original. This can make Declan seem extremely pedantic at times, obsessing over minor details and refusing to deviate from the method that he feels is correct. However, especially when it comes to the twin arts of symbology and language, it has less to do with any ingrained need to obsess over “rules” and instead speaks to his paranoid, copycat nature. While completely capable of creating his own symbols, accepting unique pronunciations of words, or accepting styles of combat that deviate from what he sees as optimal, Declan can be far too caught up in how people will react to his changes. Instead, Declan chooses to stick with his tried and true methods and avoid any uncomfortable conversations.

Species and Allegiance
- Species: Human
- Ethnicity: Caucasian
- Nationality: Declan was born a Russian, however, he doesn't identify with any particular country and holds citizenship in any country he can forge documents for.
- Alignment: True Neutral
- Allegiance: Himself.
- Reasoning: Declan has been an agent of the Sanctuaries for so long that all he really wants is to be left alone to do his own thing. Let the Faceless Ones in or hand Crayne Consolidated the nuclear launch codes for all Declan cares, just leave him out of it. 

- Allies:
- Enemies:
- Family: Declan’s only surviving relative is his brother, Gideon Macabre.
- Friends: The Infiltrators: Declan’s non-Blackshield squad during the War was a group of misfits that never planned on surviving as long as they did. Declan was the 6th member to join the band when the War was at its peak. Thanks to a previous working relationship with their fifth member, Dai Swordstorm, Declan was able to become an infiltrator without too much effort. For a group of misfits that Declan only joined to keep heat away from himself and his superiors following the Sigma Incident, they got on extremely well. Up to that point and for decades following, the Infiltrators were the only people that Declan would consider to be his friends. But Declan draws a distinct dividing line between himself and the other Infiltrators, to some extent he considers his five teammates to be the Infiltrators, while he just so happened to be present. But as much as he considers them all to be his friends and companions, even from afar, there are two in particular that Declan got along with best, two that had a somewhat strained relationship with Declan, and one that got along with everybody.
Axel Deadshot was a joker that was always looking for a good fight, and even if Declan was never completely honest about who and what he was, the Irish prick understood the battle lust that lived in him. Dai Swordstorm was a murderer. A Sanctuary assassin that made play he was some kind of soldier just doing his duty for the good of mages everywhere. He and Declan became fast friends and worked together constantly. They didn't talk much, but they really never had much to discuss.
Thorkild Feilstrom and Alison Nightfall both viewed Declan with a certain degree of suspicion and a small amount of disdain. While they acknowledged his place as one of them and would have his back just as readily as Declan would have theirs, his methods were not what they preferred, and his cold acceptance of savage violence unsettled Thorkild and disturbed Alison. Despite that, they forged a bond in the fires of the War that survives to the present day.
Roland Mercer gets along with everybody. He verges on almost too friendly, but Declan admired him for his courage and willingness to take high risks with massive rewards. More than a strained bond of friendship tested by the fires of battle, or a deep understanding of each other, Roland and Declan simply found each other to be enjoyable to be around.       
 Siobhan Donovan: Declan hasn’t ever been one to have friends, generally speaking. His job and the way he was raised never leant themselves to forming deep connections for anything other than an advantage over someone else. He’s broken this conditioning before with the Infiltrators, but never for very long before someone or something intervened. Siobhan is a different story. She’s not only Declan’s friend and his literal Soul Mate, but she understands him. And Declan likes to think he understands her in turn. Not only does Siobhan represent a deeply felt connection for Declan, but she makes him feel as though he belongs somewhere.
- Significant Other: None

Character Age and Gender
- True Age: 427
- Appearance Age: Mid-Thirties with his tattoos hidden. When his symbol tattoos are exposed it becomes almost impossible to tell how old Declan is.   
- Character Birthday: 7/7/1592
- Gender: Male

Character Appearance
- Skin Colour: Pale caucasian, slightly green-tinged.
- Height: 5’ 11”
- Weight: 95kg
- Hair Description: Declan shaves his head fairly regularly, if he were to let it grow for some odd reason it would be jet black and wavy.
- Eye Description: Declan has hazel eyes, with more brown in the center than green. In some lights, they look bluer than green and vice versa.
- Facial Details: Declan has a slim face, with sallow cheeks and deep-set eyes that gives his face something of a diamond shape. His forehead is average size and he has a pronounced chin and jawline. His actual facial features can be difficult to distinguish beneath the layer of tattoo ink that covers almost every inch of it. What can be made out is his slightly hooked nose and thin lips. When he speaks or moves his face it’s clear to see that there’s more muscle there than should be thanks to his Cleaver enhancement. When Declan uses the Façade only to hide his tattoos he looks very plain aside from the aforementioned strange musculature to his cheek and jaw. His eyebrows sit somewhat low over his eyes, making his expression tend to look permanently like a scowl, and his forehead looks slightly larger than it is while not covered in ink.
- Physical Appearance: Declan is rather lanky, with long arms and legs. He doesn’t look particularly beefy at first glance and is quite well proportioned for his height. Declan is deceptively thin for his weight, primarily due to the cleaver enhancements adding to and changing his muscle structure on a fundamental level. Very little of Declan is body fat, and the amount of muscle on his thin frame is somewhat uncanny valley to see. He has long, slender fingers that are generally calloused in several places from working with his various symbol tools. He has somewhat broad shoulders for his height, though not extreme enough that he would seem particularly intimidating at first glance. Declan doesn’t seem to fit into any well-defined build type and seems like he would be just as at home swapping hands as he would be running. As a Cleaver-trained individual, Declan moves with similar inhuman fluidity to a Vampire, just not on the same level. He has excellent posture as long as he isn’t undercover as someone that doesn’t, standing up straight with his shoulders back and head held high.
More noticeable than his height and build, however, is the fact that his entire body is covered in a series of intricately connected symbols. Some are carved, some are tattooed, but all of them combine to form a tapestry of complex lines and dots of various colors across every inch of his skin. From the complex series of mirrored black slashes across his cheeks to the intricately designed scrollwork that flows across his hands, and the series of symbols that dot his legs and form a confusing pattern across his midsection, Declan is a walking visualization of the maddening variety present in the art form he loves so much. The average person, on the off chance they were to see his body not covered by the façade, would find the tattoos and scarified designs to be extremely strange to behold, and probably dismiss them as distasteful at best as they don’t seem to form any kind of cohesive pattern or reasonable common thread.
- Attire: Declan doesn’t wear any particular clothes on a regular basis, preferring to dress for the situation and weather that he expects to encounter in any given situation. He does have color and style preferences, generally going for dark blues and blacks if he can. Declan will usually aim for a business-casual kind of style on most days, preferring slacks to shorts or jeans, and sticking to polo shirts or button-ups when he can. Generally, if he and Siobhan are planning to go on an excursion any farther than somewhere in their home dimension, Declan will throw several kinds of clothing into a large duffel bag. He likes to come prepared for extreme temperatures and conditions since they have encountered plenty of those on their travels. Declan can generally be found wearing boots or loafers of some kind depending on circumstances. He prefers boots on his travels for obvious reasons but prefers loafers in most other situations thanks to how comfortable they are.

Speech and Habits
- Character Voice: Declan has a flat, monotone voice that isn’t particularly high or low, though he does have impressive range even without the voice-altering symbols on his neck.
- Speech Traits: Declan’s accent is a bizarre chimera of the places he’s spent the most time and the people he’s been around the longest when not altering his voice with symbols. He has a clear mixture of Russian and Scottish accents from his early years, but also has been known to Palletalize words in unusual places thanks to his time spent in North Africa, and has very harsh “K” sounds from being around Israel Sodom for so long.
- Languages: Declan is fluent in English, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Amharic, and Farsi.
- Habits: Declan chews gum. Constantly. He buys it in bulk.
- Mannerisms: Declan often sits cross-legged on the ceilings of places where he’s in the company of mages. He finds it easier to relax when he knows most of the people around can’t reach him.

Weapons, Equipment and Artifacts
- Large Equipment: When off adventuring, Declan can often be seen carrying a large duffel bag that holds survival essentials for both Siobhan and himself. The exact contents can be seen in Small Equipment below. .
- Small Equipment: Mostly contained within his bag when he feels the need to carry it, the contents can sometimes be transferred to a smaller backpack if he isn’t planning to be gone for long, but the complete list is as follows. He will pick and choose if he knows where they’re headed, but in the event that he’s going in blind Declan will bring as much stuff as possible.
(click to show/hide)
- Weaponry: Declan rarely carries weapons on his person, and only owns one. A large knife roughly 8” long with a 4” handle. It has a recurved Atlarite blade and a wooden handle with the number “26” is just barely visible engraved on the handle. He does own several smaller knives, but he uses them primarily for carving symbols and not flesh, so he doesn’t consider them “weapons” in the traditional sense.
- Ammunition: None.
- Pocket Items: Wallet with some kind of forged ID papers depending on where he is, currency of some kind, a pen and scribe for drawing and carving symbols, a small notebook for notes and symbol memes, keys. Siobhan has mocked him repeatedly for his “Janitors Keys” as he has several keyrings that are all absolutely loaded with keys attached to a battered carabiner. Most of them he doesn’t remember what purpose they serve, but he keeps them nonetheless.
- Magical Equipment/Artifacts: None.
- Other: Declan owns several different kits of Symbol making tools that he has acquired over the years, each one containing more tools than the man himself can be bothered to actually catalog and check if they’re actually useful or simply something he grabbed because it might come in handy one day. Within his large collection are several sharp scribes, knives of various kinds, picks, pens with unique features like nibs that heat up to allow symbols to be engraved directly into more scratch-resistant materials, several kinds of ink and paintbrushes, chalk and china pens in various colors and of various ages, at least two tattoo guns and several small bottles of alchemically infused ink, as well as all manner of more traditional pens, inks, and paper. Unlike Siobhan, Declan doesn’t have any power tools in his repertoire and prefers to use more old school tools. Declan has a fairly extensive collection of forgers tools, and some of the few electronic devices that he owns are among these highly illegal items. He stores them primarily at a safe house in China that he was staying while undercover after the Sanctuary was destroyed.
While he doesn’t technically own them, there are several Blackshield facilities and safe houses dotted around Africa that only Declan is aware of thanks to the purge of anyone else that could unearth them through anything short of meme-level bad luck. He stores various things in these Blackshield sites, but generally will only stay there for as short a period of time as possible. All of the Blackshield sites are virtually derelict at this point, and Declan has personally seen to it in recent months that the information and records contained there are destroyed or kept in his hands. The fact that any Blackshield sites are still operational is one of the few secrets he’s kept from Siobhan in recent times, and as such he rarely visits any of them.

Magical and Physical Abilities
- Magic Type: Adept
- Specialization: Symbolism/Wall Walking
- Immersion Metamorphosis: Declan enters immersion metamorphosis for his symbolism if he uses more than two non-facade symbols at once, this state simply reveals the tattoos and carvings that cover his entire body as the symbols experience a surge of magic that disables the ones that conceal them. Wall-Walking has no immersion metamorphosis.
- Ability Specific Info: Wall Walking is an adept discipline that allows the user to magically alter their center of gravity. This grants the wielder the ability to literally walk up walls perpendicular to the ground and walk upside down on ceilings. Symbolism is the use of magical symbols in the form of tattoos, drawings, or carvings that can be used in offensive, defensive, and utility-oriented ways depending on the symbol, its method of creation, and its size.
- Magical Abilities: Declan’s discipline can be applied in more creative ways than simply walking on walls, like rooting himself in place and essentially becoming immovable or stepping onto and off of a fast-moving surface without any loss of balance. Declan has progressed in his abilities to the point that objects he is holding experience the same change in gravitational orientation. This is mainly so that he can drink upside down, and it's a neat party trick. He can also take people with him on Declan’s Wild Ride as long as he stays in physical contact with them at all times.
 Declan’s magic is primarily for utility, and the majority of his time dedicated to learning magic has been focused on symbolism, detailed below.

(click to show/hide)

- Physical Abilities: Having been run through the same training regimen as the other Blackshield candidates, Declan is slightly above the level of modern Cleavers in terms of his speed, strength, and agility. While not quite on the level of older Provectimancers or Vampires in terms of strength or reaction times, Declan has impressive stamina and is extremely coordinated. He can run long distances without tiring, has an extremely high pain tolerance due to “enhanced interrogation” training under Elder Sodom. Cleaver Training means that even when using the most unwieldy of weapons he is able to achieve extreme effectiveness.
- Strengths: Declan is a spy and infiltrator of extreme skill, his façade and Voces Multis tattoos are advanced enough that he can perfectly mimic another person if given the time to study them. Even when not directly imitating someone else, Declan is a social chameleon of great skill, able to blend in and pretend to feel at home pretty much anywhere as long as he’s wearing a face that isn’t his own. The intricate tapestry of symbols across his body makes Declan an extremely tricky opponent to deal with, seemingly able to whip something out for every situation. Declan is extremely hard to break mentally, with his training under Israel Sodom having pushed the limits of what he could endure enough that Declan is confident almost no one could get him to talk if he doesn’t want to.
While his advanced symbols and myriad of tricks certainly amplify his abilities as a spy, they aren’t the most powerful tool for that purpose. Declan’s true skill as a spy comes from his unwavering dedication to the character he plays. While more than capable of simply stealing a face and imitating someone he’s studied, Declan’s true power lies in creating fake people so believable that only the most paranoid vampire tattooists would bother questioning whether the person before them is real.
- Weaknesses: Of all the Blackshields, Declan is by far the most fragile. While his unusual tolerance to pain and hard to break mental state are advantages, they can also cause him to damage himself believing he’s in a better state than he is.
 Declan’s symbols, while powerful, become extremely draining when used for long periods or when used in tandem with each other. Thanks to this, if Declan uses too much magic he will begin to tap into the enhancements done to his blood. If this happens, his physical state will briefly experience a recovery before his blood cells and bone marrow start to rapidly decay. In the same vein, the high powers of his symbols come at extremely high costs. Some are avoidable with good timing, but for all of his most powerful abilities, the end result will be some form of bodily harm that can be completely debilitating. These drawbacks aren't things Declan can spin to his advantage either. Third-degree burns, torn muscles, shredded tendons, cluster headaches, and shattered bones are all weaknesses that could easily find Declan getting himself killed.
 Without Siobhan, Declan can be extremely awkward and difficult to interact with without prior experience when wearing his own face. Siobhan is something of a weakness for Declan. His normal way of living and fighting is extremely individualistic, expecting to be alone and unsupported for long periods. The Soul Bond changes this dynamic and, while Siobhan and Declan are skilled at fighting alongside each other, Declan can make choices and moves for Siobhan’s sake that will put him in extreme danger.
- Training: Trained under Elder Israel Sodom and Grand Mage Canaan Primal during the War, self-taught for the remainder of his life.

Name and Occupation
- Taken Name: Rayisi Min-Masir
- Pronunciation of the Name: Rye-ey-see Min Muh-Zeer
- Name Etymology: Master of Fate, this is Rayisi’s second taken name. The first having been purged from the annals of history along with the original monarchy of the Northern Court. Rayisi took this name after becoming emperor and purging the Northern Monarchy.
- Fae Given Name: Thlath Al Hadar, (the Third of Hadar’s House.)
- Pronunciation of the Name: Huh-lath El Huh-dar
- Human Given Name: Daud Manser
- Pronunciation of the Name: Dow-duh mon-sir
- Character Job: Emperor of the Five African Kingdoms.
- Qualifications: Raised to be a warrior even before becoming a Fae, Rayisi was trained in both combat and in statesmanship for most of his life. It doesn’t hurt that he killed the previous emperor as well.
- Titles: Emperor Rayisi Min-Masir is his preferred title, though he will respond to merely Emperor, Sire, or Lord. His time as general of house Hadar earned him dozens of titles, the Monster of the East The Dragon, and Tyrant Breaker are the ones most commonly remembered. Matthieu Finnick, a trusted member of his inner circle, feels the need to call him “Ray” and pronounce it as such. Rayisi allows this because not only does he value and respect Matthieu, but he’s not certain that he could take the Hemomancer, even in a fair fight.

Character Mentality
- Character Personality: Rayisi is an odd creature for a Fae. While still brutally violent and eternally bloodthirsty he abides by a strict code of honor held over from his comparatively short time as a human. More than a simple murderer like most Fae, Rayisi believes himself to be a warrior first, last, and always. While raised in a Fae Court and treated as a prince despite his place being as a general, Rayisi prefers to live a relatively spartan existence for a Fae King, having taken pride in living as his soldiers did in all his years. He goes out of his way to only fight opponents able to fight back, and will fight with as much of a handicap as he is able to if he thinks his opponent is beneath him. Rayisi is firmly of the belief that he owes nothing to anyone and demands that anyone who comes into contact earn his respect. He has no interest in the accomplishments of your ancestors or the power wielded by your father, he believes you are defined only by your works and if your works aren’t of note you have no place in his presence.
Rayisi does not share the idea that born Fae are “sacred” with much of his kin. In his experience born Fae are weaklings who had their kingdoms given to them by birthright or attrition, not forged by their own hands. In his experience Born Fae are respected by virtue of their nature alone, not because they have to command it through their own works.
Rayisi is slow and methodical, rarely speaking unless he has something of specific importance to say. His silence combined with his reputation as a vicious combatant makes Rayisi an incredibly intimidating presence. Rayisi’s inability to lie is rarely an issue as he made a habit of either not speaking or being brutally honest even when he was human, and he is rarely in a situation in which he feels the need to lie. Despite his signature silent demeanor, Rayisi is a very expressive individual. His body language is extremely pronounced with most Fae that have known him for longer than a few days able to read him like a book based only on his posture and expressions.
Rayisi works hard to keep his emotions in check. Thanks to the incredibly dangerous nature of his magic if Rayisi’s emotions run unchecked he could either cause incredible amounts of collateral damage, or kill himself due to the strain of Terraemotus usage.
While he gets the same rush out of murder as any other Fae, Rayisi finds it crushingly boring if the entity that he brutally murders has no ability to fight back or no chance to win against him. As such Rayisi finds fighting other Fae, Vampires, or mages of particular note to be worth much more than a normal mage or mortal.
Rayisi is a sharply intelligent individual, and spends much of his spare time putting together complex puzzles or playing Go, chess, or bridge with his loyal adviser, Nazim.
- Character Likes:
+Go and Chess: Rayisi was introduced to the Chinese game of Go by his adviser Nazim long before becoming Emperor, and plays regularly still. Rayisi believes Go and chess both to be the best possible representation of war in the form of a board game there is, with millions of possible moves and counter moves.

+Bridge: Rayisi’s favorite pastime like many generals throughout the years. Bridge is, in his opinion, the single best representation of war that can be played. His reasoning being that for a representation of war to truly be accurate one can’t be able to see all of the pieces on the board. Nazim and Rayisi have developed into quite the pair when it comes to bridge, able to communicate almost entirely through body language.

+Combat/Murder: Like all Fae, Rayisi lives for the thrill of murder. But for him it’s tempered with a sense of “been there, done that”. While fighting his war for dominance over the African Empire Rayisi killed hundreds of other Fae, and as a result the killings of regular mages and mortals became a mediocre morsel to sate his hunger for bloodshed. As such, almost as much as he desires to kill he desires to fight and be challenged when fighting.
- Character Dislikes:
-Killing Mortals/Easy Fights: Pretty simple, Rayisi gets bored with mortals and regular mages. They break too quickly and too easily.

-Anything that’s not a Fae: Rayisi despises all non Fae and would kill them all in a heartbeat, he just wishes they were all fun to kill.

-Smugness: The only thing Rayisi hates more than a non Fae is an entity of any kind that think themselves to be his superior with nothing to prove this as the case. In particular this extends to almost all Born Fae. Rayisi will suffer no one that has a sense of superiority born of their birthright or of their ancestors accomplishments. Any Born Fae that refers to him as not being a true Fae will meet a horrible end with Rayisi no longer having any interest in holding back his immense killing power.

-Wrathia Venora: Wrathia and Rayisi have a very mutual dislike of one another. Wrathia finding him brutish, untested, and dangerously unknown, Rayisi finding Wrathia to be snaky, unstable, and far too confident for someone he views as far inferior to him.

- Mental Traits: Rayisi, like all Fae, is incredibly sadistic, and gains no shortage of pleasure from the pain of others, though he finds the pain of those weaker than him to be only a fleeting thing.
Battle Trance: Rayisi has been known to enter a state where he is so consumed by the bloodlust brought on by his affliction that nothing matters but the next kill, no matter who that kill pledges allegiance too. In this state Rayisi is dead silent, save for small grunts of effort as he swings his hammer or shatters bones with his shockwaves. In his battle trance he loses all remnants of the honor code that he holds so highly, murdering with brutal, surgical precision and having to interest in holding back regardless of how weak his opponent may be.

Species and Allegiance
- Species: Turned Fae
- Ethnicity: Middle Eastern
- Nationality: Yemeni
- Alignment: Chaotic Evil
- Allegiance: The African Fae Empire.
- Reasoning: He rules the African Fae, and Fae are nothing if not chaotic.

- Allies: Matthieu “Finnick” Bane is Rayisi’s primary ally outside of the African Empire, having come into contact with the former Monarch shortly after his takeover. The two of them have had a mutual agreement that Mat provides Rayisi with information in exchange for monetary rewards and the ability to call on Rayisi if anything goes too sideways for him.
The other African Monarchs.
Rayisi has contemplated forming and alliance with Pedri Bane and the Australasian Kingdom, but is slow to admit that the Five Courts require allies, and his constantly rising tensions with Wrathia Venora and Pedri being a Born Fae mean he is even slower to initiate contact with Bane.
- Enemies: While open hostilities haven’t been declared between them, Wrathia Venora considers Rayisi to be an enemy. Rayisi discovered her spying in the early 2000s, and began running counterintelligence operations shorty thereafter. Recently tensions have risen between them, with spies in both territories turning up dead at an alarming rate as Wrathia’s Vanguard and Rayisi’s Shafarat begin actively hunting for the other Monarch’s agents. Rayisi struggles to understand why Wrathia made him an enemy so quickly into his reign given their similarities in status as born Fae and an incredibly similar way of coming to power.
- Family: Dead, and forgotten.
- Friends: Nazim Khamel, the Fae that turned him and Rayisi’s current advisor and former tutor when he was being groomed to be house Hadar’s General.
- Significant Other: idk man he llamain mad ugly.

Character Age and Gender
- True Age: 487
- Appearance Age: Rayisi was 90 when he died, but in his current form determining his age is rather difficult.
- Character Birthday: 12/12/1531
- Gender: Male.

Character Appearance
- Skin Colour: Rayisi has a dark olive complexion thanks to spending so much time in the sun.
- Height: Rayisi stands 7’ 6” to the top of his skull, and 12’ 8” to the top of his wings when folded behind his back.
- Weight: 260lbs
- Hair Description: Rayisi is bald.
- Eye Description: Rayisi’s eyes are almost entirely black, with his pupils glowing with a baleful yellow light.
- Facial Details: The first thing that jumps out about Rayisi’s oval shaped face, after his deep set glowing eyes, is the fact that his mandible and the part of his cheeks below his actual cheekbones are covered in a layer of some kind of rocky coating that extends down his neck to his shoulders and upper chest.

This layer of rock makes his jawline absurdly strong, and make his cheekbones look ridiculously sharp. His face is abnormally tall and thin, almost like the the old carvings of Pharaohs.  He has large lips and high, arched eyebrows. His teeth are long and needle sharp, interlocking in a perfect bite when his mouth is closed. Behind these teeth Rayisi has a long, incredibly dextrous, forked tongue. His mouth opens incredibly wide like the mouth of a serpent. His chin nearly touches his collarbone when his mouth is fully open.
- Physical Appearance: Rayisi is an absolute monster as a result of his ludicrous number of murders. Rayisi has killed so much that it increased his sizep to an absurd degree, towering above everyone else in his court without counting the wings.

Those wings are almost 20’ in span when fully extended and batlike in shape and makeup, with an obvious bone structure extending out from his back with thin, leathery skin stretched across it, the tops of the wings have an obvious muscle structure running across them around the 5” diameter bone. The wings both end in 3 fingers and a fully opposable thumb. The fingers account for almost an entire foot of their span, and each one has 4 knuckles instead of 3 to allow slightly more precise movement. However even with this advantage the fingers are far from dexterous, the muscles connected to them far better optimized for sheer grip strength than fine manipulation. When bright light shines on the wings from behind they appear translucent red, with a spider web of veins and the bone structure within appearing black, similar to shining a light through your hand. In more neutral light they have similar coloration as his skin, with the underside being far more pale and the backside being much darker due to exposure to the sun.

The wings are strong enough that Rayisi is fully capable of extended flight on them, and they act as particularly useful tools in combat. Additionally the wings are strong enough that Rayisi can use the hands on the end to either pull him up to a higher position, or he can use the knuckles to essentially “walk” on his wings.
The rest of Rayisi is equally intimidating, his Terramotus discipline and Fae nature means that his arms are coated in the same hard, rocky substance that can be seen on his face, neck, and upper chest also coats his arms from the tips of his fingers to just above his elbows, and from the tips of his toes to just above his knees. Rayisi’s limbs seem unusually long and thin, even for his height, giving him an avian appearance. Though their thickness is mainly an optical illusion from the sheer size of his wings.

While far from out of shape, Rayisi isn’t as obviously muscled as one would expect. His sheer height means that were he to be incredibly muscular as well he would be too heavy to achieve flight. But make no mistake, one can clearly see that every part of Rayisi is rock hard (no pun intended). Rayisi’s hands and feet are tipped with razor sharp claws that jut out from the rocky coating on the rest of his hands.
(click to show/hide)
- Attire: Rayisi will wear various different garbs depending on the situation. When meeting with the other African Monarchs or seated on his throne in peacetime he will wear blood red robes specifically made to accommodate his monstrous wings. The robes are tied around his midsection with a thick, brown leather belt with a gold medallion in the center cast with the wing and sword emblem of the Empire. The medallion is one of two that Rayisi made from the crown of the Old King. His crown is far less extravagant than the one he melted down nearly a century ago. Carved from glossy black stone, the crown is a simple ring with 5 vertical points around its circumference. The one centered over his forehead is taller than the others, mimicking the motif for the Five Courts on his throne.

When meeting with foreign monarchs or with the other Africans in times of war Rayisi has been known to dress in full battle garb. This attire is made almost entirely of a combination of various animal pelts, bones, and chain mail. His “helmet” is the massive skull of an extinct species of stag that House Hadar once hunted for sport.
Rayisi is always barefoot, or as close to it as he can get, as channeling his magic through shoes of any kind feels unnatural. If he were to meet with a foreign monarch, Rayisi would hang the helmet from his belt and don his stone crown instead.
(click to show/hide)

Speech and Habits
- Character Voice: Rayisi has a rather soft voice for his size, but despite this it is deep and resonant, carrying the cold tone of authority. When Rayisi does raise his voice it’s an incredibly unexpected experience, changing from the quiet yet commanding tone to what seems like repeated thunderclaps.
- Speech Traits: Rayisi’s accent is incredibly hard to pin down, a mixture of the Yemini he heard for the first 200 years of his unlife, the Swahili he has primarily heard for the last 200, and various other accents he’s picked up along the way. Rayisi’s “S” sounds are drawn out into a hiss, not extremely so but enough that it’s noticeable.
- Languages: Hadhrami Arabic, Swahili, English, Berber
- Habits: Rayisi, like most Fae, is completely addicted to murder and obscene heights of violence.
- Mannerisms: When forced to sit still for too long Rayisi will begin to open and close the hands on the ends of his wings and generally fidget his wings about. Rayisi likes to lean into people he is trying to intimidate and open his mouth to it’s full width, displaying his tongue and teeth. If he doesn’t want to intimidate by being a creepy bat demon thing, Rayisi will simply use his voice to generate small shockwaves, enough to ruffle clothes and create small sonic booms as the vibrations in the air break the sound barrier.

Weapons, Equipment and Artifacts
- Large Equipment: Rayisi’s only large piece of equipment is his hammer.
- Small Equipment: Rayisi usually has several small pouches of coins or other trinkets on his person.
- Weaponry: The hammer.
- Ammunition: None.
- Pocket Items: Rayisi doesn’t usually have pockets.
- Magical Equipment/Artifacts: The hammer that Rayisi affectionately refers to as Judgement. The hammer stands 9’ tall from the bottom of the grip to the top of the head. The shaft of the weapon is made of solid stone carved with sigils that glow a deep red when in use. The sigils made the shaft nearly unbreakable and wrap the hammerhead in the same red energy, serving to increase the force Rayisi can hit with. The hammerhead itself is forged from Mnemosium, and is solid white with a black streak zigzagging down the top of it. The hammer has two other forms, battleaxe, and a scythe.
Hammer Time:
(click to show/hide)
Came to work strapped:
(click to show/hide)
(click to show/hide)
- Other: Africa. Step to him on it, I dare you.

Magical and Physical Abilities
- Magic Type: Adept
- Specialization: Terraemotus
- Immersion Metamorphosis: As a Fae, Rayisi is in something of a constant state of immersion metamorphosis which manifests as the rocky coating on his extremities and chest. However when he uses his magic he enters the same state as other Terraemotus, his hands start to vibrate at high speed and dusty particles will drift off his arms and hands.
- Ability Specific Info:  Terraemotus is the ability to manipulate and control shockwaves in various forms by generating, amplifying, and manipulating molecular vibrations. Most manifestations of Terraemotus come in the form of small but controllable earthquakes, but this is only the most basic of the applications for the shockwaves a Terraemotus can create. More advanced applications include crude manipulation of one's surroundings such as creating walls, trenches or fissures within the ground. A particularly skilled Terraemotus is also capable of creating shockwaves that can travel through the air rather than through the ground, and while taxing, this ability gives a skilled user far more versatility in combat.
- Magical Abilities: Rayisi is an incredibly skilled Terraemotus, capable of utilizing every aspect of the discipline to an extremely high level. The range of his magic is truly incredible, able to read the ground around him and manipulate it within a circular area roughly 4 square miles in diameter. Rayisi’s shockwaves are easily capable of killing a target when passed through the ground as long as he can pinpoint their location by sight, and if the target is within roughly 10 square feet of him his shockwaves can kill a normal mage or mortal when passed through the air. Beyond that his shockwaves are far from harmless, but not lethal. In addition, Rayisi has found that he can pass shockwaves through most solid objects he comes into contact with by touching them with any part of his body. But this method of shockwave channeling is even more taxing than sending them through the air, and comes with significant risk of shattering the bones of whatever body part he used rather than going through the ground.
-Combat Skills: Rayisi is an expert in forcing an opponent to fight on his terms and keep them out of their own comfort zone. Whether that means trading his magic for flight and rushing down a normally offensive opponent, or forcing a normally defensive opponent to come to him. Rayisi is extremely skilled in reading his opponents on a micro and macro scale, whether that be seeing the small flicker of an opponents eyes, or the way an army is rotating to counterattack. Rayisi is an incredibly cerebral fighter, completely silent even when in the grips of the bloodlust that lurks within him as a Fae. He is always analyzing his opponent, trying to discern their next move even before they do and always seeking to end the fight in the simplest yet most brutal manner possible.
- Physical Abilities: Rayisi is an absolute powerhouse in physical combat, his strength alone is often overwhelming for the average opponent, but combined with his ability to cover short distances incredibly quickly with his wings if need be he can easily rush down the average opponent. But more often than not Rayisi will choose to stay rooted in place, forcing an opponent to either come to him or take their chances against his shockwaves.
- Strengths: Rayisi is an incredibly difficult opponent to fight, between centuries of combat experience and immense magical power from his Fae nature, Rayisi is utterly overwhelming for the average mage or mortal. This is only exacerbated by his wings, which not only allow him to fly and completely alter the dimensions of a fight, but extend his reach greatly thanks to their range of movement and fully opposable thumbs.
Aside from his physical prowess, Rayisi is the ruler of an Empire spanning the entire continent of Africa and made up of five different Fae Courts, all with different systems of government, different goals and grievances with one another and he runs it all with very little aid. As such his administrative and logistical skills are something beyond what most people could ever hope to reach. And his extreme level of analytical intelligence means that outsmarting him is rarely an option.
- Weaknesses: Rayisi is required to be in contact with the ground at all times to use his magic to its full potential, and preferably standing on a hard surface rather than something soft like sand or mud. As such using his wings in combat can severely hold him back, forcing him to choose between the height advantage and using his magic properly. Additionally any opponent that can stay off the ground or at least the ground level Rayisi is on can avoid his most devastating attacks.
Rayisi is not a particularly fast entity, while capable of using his wings to gain a temporary boost over short distances, his weapon of choice and sheer size means that he is forced to rely on winning the fight quickly before a faster opponent can overwhelm him.
Rayisi’s devotion to choosing the most efficient or logical route to victory can come to bite him in drawn out conflicts as he will develop a pattern that a strategist of equal skill can start to predict, forcing Rayisi to adapt on the fly faster than an opponent that’s caught on to his reactionary macro strategy.
Terraemotus is not an entirely safe discipline for normal mages, with intense use able to cause severe muscle strain and in some cases break the bones of the user. And as a particularly chaotic Fae his magic in particular is wild and untamed compared to that of a normal mage. Rayisi has to be extremely careful to not over do it for fear of extreme collateral damage or extreme damage to his own body. Even stepping a toe over the line could shatter the bones in his legs, and pushing himself to the extreme would be more than capable of killing Rayisi in a plethora of brutal manners. Too much of a ground shockwave could simply destroy his entire skeleton in a gory explosion, or an overzealous air shockwave could pulp his insides and leave him as a liquid sack with some bones dangling inside.
Rayisi’s battle trance, given what a devastating combatant he his, can cause him to do incredible damage to his own forces or territory with his magic always at risk of running absolutely wild. As such for Rayisi to enter his battle trance in a place where his magic can be at maximum effectiveness is an incredibly dangerous prospect for him, his allies, and his enemies.
Running the largest Fae Empire in the world can wear his nerves thin, causing emotional outbursts that can have disastrous consequences.
- Training: Rayisi was trained in combat by Nazim and by fighting a war against the other Courts for over a decade, he learned his magic through experimentation.

Magical Afflictions
- Magical Disease or Affliction: Fae
- Cause of Infliction: Rayisi was turned through ingesting the blood of Nazim Khamel, a Born Fae, at the moment of his death.
- Site of Infliction: Rayisi has no visible site where he was infected, but there is a large scar directly over his heart where he was killed to allow the affliction to be transferred to him.
- Benefits: Durable skin, immortality, enhanced strength and agility, enhanced senses, more powerful magic. Rayisi gained the ability to transfer his affliction through his blood like Nazim.
- Downsides: He’s a giant demon creature with wings, he’s constantly thinking about brutally murdering everything, and his enhanced magic is far more dangerous to himself than that of a normal mage.
- Fitting In: Fae are capable of “recycling” into a human body, but Rayisi’s form is so monstrous and his bodycount so large that any recycled body burns out within days if not hours.
- Suppressant/Cure: There is no cure for this affliction.

Goals, Motivation and History
- Major Goal: Rayisi’s overarching goal is Fae supremacy and revenge on the humans that devastated his species.
- Minor Goals:
Kill Canaan Primal, because it would probably be the most satisfying kill of his life.
Ally with Pedri Bane, because it’ll help get Wrathia off his back and he finds Pedri to be the closest Fae King to himself in terms of how he rules and acts, even if his connection to Wrathia and his Born Fae status make Rayisi reluctant to initiate contact.
- Motivation: Rayisi is driven by a relentless ambition born of being the 3rd “son” of House Hadar and constantly looked down upon by most of the Born Fae in the Northern Court.
- Bio: The first 90 years of the man that would become Rayisi Min-Masir aren’t even known to him anymore. Nazim claims that before becoming a Fae he was a member of a nomadic tribe from modern day Yemen, talented with a blade and naturally imbued with the Terraemotus discipline. His tribe made their way into Egypt where Nazim ambushed them, looking for a 3rd turn for the Northern Court to have as a “son”. The rest of his tribe fell rather quickly to the Fae, but not the future emperor. His power meant that he could create massive waves in the sand, sculpting and moving the dunes to his advantage. This method of combat was so effective that the young mage actually drew blood from his Fae attacker. At that moment Nazim claims he was certain this was the general that House Hadar had been waiting for. Nazim stabbed the young mage through his heart and at the moment of his death placed the blood drawn from his shoulder into the mage, turning him into a Fae like him. How much of this is true and how much is Nazim making Rayisi out to be incredibly powerful even before becoming a Fae is unknown, but the truth likely lies somewhere in between half and complete truth, though given that Nazim is unable to truly lie the fact remains that before being turned the young mage landed a hit on him.

After being Turned is when the true records of the future emperor begin. Thlath Al-Hadar was turned for one reason and one reason only, to be the general of the Northern Court’s armies. He took to the transformation remarkably quickly, his already warlike nature and chaotic magic meant that Thlath was developing the bone structure to grow wings within only a few weeks of the transformation, and had his magic manifesting in the form of the rocky coating around his extremities within hours. Thlath Al-Hadar was simultaneously welcomed and shunned by the Northern Court’s royals. His skill at arms displayed against Nazim was something truly impressive, but as a Turned Fae he would always be seen as less than by his born Fae rulers. The only born Fae to not look down on him was his handler and tutor, Nazim, the Fae that turned him. Thlath Al-Hadar trained for everything that his new position entailed for over a century with Nazim. Combat, diplomacy, statesmanship, philosophy, and etiquette just to cover most of the bases. Anything a budding noble could need to know was on the schedule for Thlath and Nazim. Thlath went out of his way to interact with the troops he was training to lead on a regular basis whether that be sparring, eating, or patrolling. Many of the rank and file troops were turned Fae like him, but many of the commanders were born fae that felt Thlath was unworthy of his position. Thlath was happy to prove to them that he was most definitely worthy in the simplest method possible, combat.

During this training period, Thlath Al-Hadar was challenged by 12 commanders to at least one duel to prove his worth. Never once did he lose, and after a particularly smug commander challenged him for an eighth time Rayisi simply sent a shockwave through the ground that shattered every bone in his opponent’s body from his feet to his hips, killing him instantly. That display ended the constant challenges to Thlath’s authority over the Northern Fae armies, even if it did ruffle the feathers of several other commanders. Another effect it had was kicking off the addiction to murder that lurks inside the Fae species. Thlath began hunting and killing regularly after that. Mortals, mages, any living thing he could get his rock covered hands on was fair game. Around this time is when his wings began to grow in, sprouting from his back and taking shape more with every kill.

In the early 18th century more mages started to appear in Africa. Among their number were a large number of so called “monster hunters”. The Northern Court was informed of this threat by the emperor at the time, in response Thlath was tasked with putting together a group of Fae to hunt the hunters. Thlath named this group the Shafarat, the word for Blade in his native tongue. The monster hunters that set foot inside the northern court rarely lasted longer than a week. So impressive was Thlath’s ability to predict the movements of the hunters that other Courts began to hire the Shafarat and Thlath to deal with monster hunters within their borders as well. It is believed that from the time he formed that Shafarat and the time he took over the Northern Court’s army that he had personally killed 300 monster hunters, and the Shafarat were responsible for nearly 500 more.

Thlath took full command of the Northern Armies in 1771, one hundred fifty years after he had initially been turned. By now Thlath Al-Hadar was well known around the empire as a beast of a Fae. With his wings at full size, his mouth full of razor sharp teeth, and his long list of dead monster hunters Thlath served as a potent weapon for the Northern Court even without an army at his back. Despite his impressive honor roll, Thlath was still viewed as less than by the Born Fae that ruled his Court and the others. He may have shared a surname with the Northern Court’s rulers, but he would never be one of them. Now with his home Court’s army under his command, Thlath spent much of his time reviewing, training, and overseeing the borders. In the mid 19th century Thlath merged the Shafarat with the regular military, serving as an elite unit loyal first to him and to the court second. The Shafarat were, and still are, composed only of Turned Fae who have proven themselves worthy of being inducted into the order. While serving as General, Thlath lived in the barracks with the soldiers, ate with them, and trained with them as often as possible. As a result, even the born Fae within the military developed a respect for him that otherwise they never would have even considered. It also made almost every level of the military loyal first and foremost to him, not to the monarchs that Thlath represented. He began to settle into a routine, handling diplomatic issues, training with the troops, killing monster hunters, playing Go with Nazim, etc. etc.

But normalcy didn’t last long for Thlath Al-Hadar. Canaan Primal appeared. A sunderer with a long history with the African Fae, Canaan demanded territory be ceded to him for his Sanctuary, and in exchange he wouldn’t eradicate the African Fae. Among the territory demanded by Canaan was a decent chunk of the Northern Court. The Old King did as Canaan asked, and the Northern Court was furious. The tyrant ruling the west had nothing to say, her fanatical loyalty to the Old King meaning that despite losing territory she would not turn against him. But Thlath would. He demanded to be allowed to march against the Emperor, raze his temple palace and take his territory back from Canaan. Permission was granted, and Thlath Al-Hadar began to form his plans. He went before the Southern and Eastern Courts, using his reputation as a killer of monster hunters to ensure that he would gain an audience with the monarchs there. His case for the removal of the Old King was strong and the courts backed him, trusting his judgement as a scion of the northern court and as a general they respected.

In 1916, amidst the mortals World War and the tail end of the Mage War, Thlath Al-Hadar launched his campaign to take the Emperor’s throne. He swept from the Northeast like a great sandstorm. Joined by a coalition of the warrior poets from the east and the adept spies from the south, Thlath had an army that was simply to large and too experienced for any number of the press ganged conscripts that the Western Court could muster against them in the early days of the war. But as the campaign dragged slowly onward, Thlath and the other generals began to realize that the Western numbers were only growing, their ranks being bolstered by the Western Tyrant and her godlike Necromancy. The campaign slowed to a crawl, every inch of ground gained was paid for in Fae lives that the Tyrant could use to grow her army ever further. But ground was being gained. After four years of brutal fighting that turned the sands of the Sahara red with the blood of hundreds of Fae and thousands of mortal and mage slave soldiers, they reached the Old King’s palace.

Nyumba Kuu was just as much a fortress as it was a palace. The outer walls led to a courtyard ringed by another set of walls designed specifically to be a killing field were any attacker to get inside. And beyond that, several navimancers maintained a shield around the palace at all times But Thlath knew this. He had been inside the palace before, and he knew he needed a new strategy to get inside. His army stayed outside the walls for several days just out of range of the defenders weapons. The defenders attempted to counterattack multiple times, only to be headed off by Shafarat agents patrolling the perimeter of the camp. Eventually, Nazim came to Thlath with a plan to get inside.

“I fear you think too small.” Nazim rasped.
“I fear you think too highly of me, Nazim.” Thlath’s voice was a hoarse whisper, days of shouting commands taking its toll on his vocal chords.
“Thlath. Nyumba Kuu has foundations connected to those very walls, if you could get close enough…” Nazim began.
“Without taking down the shield, and without alerting the defenders atop the walls.” Thlath interjected.
“I know of other Magebound within the Shafarat, sire. We could open a small hole in the shield, enough to allow us and the other magebound inside. We could destroy the walls inside and out, make their killing field into ours.” Nazim sounded smug. Thlath scratched at his neck, contemplating his adviser’s words.
“If we die, I die satisfied that at least once you were wrong.” Thlath laughed.
“And I will die no longer bearing the heavy burden of being so perfect.”

Under the cover of night they went through with Nazim’s plan. A small group of Fae accompanied Thlath through the shield and directly to a lightly guarded point along the outer wall. Thlath pressed his hands against it, felt the foundations beneath his feet, and began to charge a shockwave to shake Nyumba Kuu to its very foundations. The magic Thlath was gathering was of such magnitude that within Nyumba Kuu several sensitives specialized in sensing magic knew something very bad was about to happen, but by that time there was nothing they could have done. A shockwave rippled through the desert and the walls, shaking Nyumba Kuu’s foundations and vaporizing the section of wall nearest to the shockwaves epicenter. Inside the palace fared no better, the inner walls cracked and fell beneath their own weight as the localized earthquake rent the foundations asunder. The inner walls collapsing killed the mages keeping the shield active and scattered the defenders, leaving Thlath and the Shafarat to storm the palace.

The cleanup of the palace was short, with Thlath himself slaying the emperor as he begged for his life on his knees in the throne room. Standing over the defeated emperor he spoke again with his trusted friend, Nazim. Neither have spoken about the conversation they had, but the Fae that emerged from the bloodied throne room of the Old King was no longer Thlath Al-Hadar. He was now Rayisi Min-Masir, the Master of Fate, the new Emperor of the African Fae Empire by right of conquest and single combat.

The reaction of the army was, as expected, almost entirely positive. They had been following the Fae now called Rayisi for almost ten years by now, and viewed him as the one that should by all rights be the emperor. The reaction of the south was typical, as long as Rayisi kept their coffers filled they would follow, the eastern monarchs had fought alongside him in his war and shared the army’s opinion. However, the northern and western courts had very different opinions.

The Western Court’s monarch felt that Rayisi was a pretender, and immediately moved to destroy him before he could establish a foothold as emperor. Rayisi dispatched several of the highest ranked Shafarat operatives to dispose of the western queen before things got out of hand. After a short but bloody campaign of carnage through the Western Court the Shafarat installed one of their own number as the western monarch, ensuring the court remained loyal to Rayisi.

But more troubling to Rayisi than the Western Court was the Northern one. The family there, his “family”, felt that Rayisi had cheated the Born Fae within their Court of the right to be crowned emperor. Unfortunately for the Northern Court, almost all of their military had been on the campaign to take the Central Court with Rayisi, and as such had very little love left for the monarchs of the North.
What came next wasn’t really a war, and went down in history as simply “The Northern Suppression.” Rayisi himself led yet another campaign, this time into his home court. With the help of a freelance Fae information broker who just happened to be in Africa at the right time, Rayisi didn’t just destroy the Al-Hadar family, he erased them. He razed their home in earthquakes, killed all of the born Fae that thought themselves emperor by birthright, and slaughtered any within the north that objected. Today only Rayisi himself, Matthieu Bane, Nazim, and the Eastern Queen still remember the old rulers of the northern court. If any others know of it, they have remained silent.

Rayisi spent the next several decades rebuilding the central and western courts in the wake of the Five Court War. With Nazim’s guidance he assured the loyalty of all of the African Courts, establishing the current system of government employed between the courts and the emperor in the 1940’s. In the 2000’s Rayisi began to notice the presence of spies hailing from Wrathia Venora’s court, and established a counterintelligence campaign in response. Both see the other as the only real threat to each other’s dominance in terms of land and number of Fae within their territory. Their “cold war” of sorts has steadily risen in tension over the last decade, with neither monarch being particularly keen on yet another war but also both being too proud to meet face to face and come to an agreement.

- Additional Notes:

Several days after how to kill a vampire, Silas and Voluntas have completed the recovery from their respective surgeries, and Silas goes to see his soul mate for the first time since she was attacked.

Silas’ eyes fluttered open, his new cybernetic adjusting to the darkness just as fast as the werewolf eye it had replaced. The first thing he noticed was that he could feel Vol much more clearly at the other end of the Bond than before he had gone under. ”So the manifold didn’t break the Bond.” Silas said to the empty room. ”Silver linings.” He mumbled as he stood up, the lights slowly coming on as he moved. Despite moving slowly after having been under for an extended period, Silas’ mind was racing. Gideon Macabre had mysteriously appeared in front of Jacinth’s mansion at the same time as Silas was in the states, then she had called Silas to assist in taking him down as her bodyguard had apparently given up trying to subdue him. Hours after that absolute clusterllama, Gideon and the bodyguard appear in Crayne Tower, apparently on a mission to kill Voluntas.
Silas tried to weave all of the seemingly disconnected pieces together, but none of it made any real sense. Unless… Perhaps Jacinth had decided to lure Gideon Macabre to her home hoping Silas would answer her call for aid, only to die by the Scotsman’s hands. Silas had to resist laughing at how absurd the idea was. The staunch pacifist suddenly decided to summon a brutal mass murderer to her doorstep, put her bodyguard in incredible danger, and then call someone she disliked to be killed? Now that was a conspiracy.
But something had to explain why Ether was there attacking Voluntas with Gideon. Silas suddenly regretted his choice to just teleport out before seeing what was decided on Gideon’s unconscious body. Unless someone was manipulating Jacinth. ”Now you’ve lost your mind, Silas.” He said out loud. But if he was honest, Silas much preferred the idea Jacinth was either being manipulated directly or manipulated by proxy to the alternative.
Silas dragged himself off the bed, still shaky on his feet, and noticed the orange bottle the doctor had left. Silas picked it up and examined the label. Hydrocodone-Acetaminophen, 10mg/325mg.
Cold sweat broke out on the werewolf’s back, he physically felt his pupils dilate as his hand holding the innocuous bottle shook with a mixture of fear and absolute desire. His mouth watered, and his breaths became shorter and more frequent. ”llama you doc.” Silas growled as he walked across the room unsteadily. He opened the bottle and tossed the pills into the sink, rinsing them down the drain completely. Silas had no doubt that down the hall his soul mate was experiencing the same disconnected longing that her Vampiric episode had caused him. He sighed and ran some cold water, splashing his face to wake him up a bit more.
”They’re rinsed.” Silas thought. He turned around and got dressed, switching it up from his usual ‘no llamas to give’ style to a more businesslike look. It even had actual dress pants. He stepped out into the hallway and made the short journey to Voluntas, scratching his neck nervously as he stopped outside the door.
He didn’t need to assume Voluntas was awake, he knew plain as day that she wasn’t sleeping. Her thoughts were to alive and erratic, not the restful feedback he expected from sleeping Vol. ’Of course, she could be having nightmares.” Silas thought to himself. That thought was followed swiftly by Silas opening the door. Half the room was curtained off, the lights were down low. ”Hey Vol.” Silas rapped his knuckles on the door as he walked in. ”Long time no see.” Halfhearted humor laced Silas’ tone as he walked to one of the chairs and took a seat. In reality it had only been a couple of days during the recovery process, both of them had undergone rather extensive and rather invasive facial surgery after all.

Silas sighed and slumped into the chair. ”I’m sorry, Vol.” Silas stared at the ground. ”This wasn’t the note my little… rendezvous with Jacinth ended on.” Silas rubbed his face. ”I guess you probably know all about that after… whatever it was that happened to us.” He still wasn’t sure how to describe the manifold. Simultaneously powerful and insanely personal, but also terrifying and rather life altering. At least they hadn’t switched bodies or something freaky like that. ”But you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Europe / Yeah I wanted to use Gideon and look at me now
« on: April 30, 2019, 11:30:07 PM »
Someone was outside. Thorkild’s eyes opened lazily as car brakes that would have sounded silent to anyone else pulled up at his gate. The house crest above his bedroom door chimed lightly as his gate opened, that was most definitely unexpected.
Gunnar and Agnar stood at attention on either side of his bed. The last of the ghost wolves his necromancer family had bound to their service all those centuries ago, the others fading as the death magic dissolved from within Thorkild. But these two remained. Whoever was here knew his gate code, that meant they’d been planning this. Thorkild heard the car stop again, closer to the house this time.

”Find them.” Thorkild whispered to the wolves. Thy bolted towards the closed doors, their green-white bodies leaving whispy trails as they silently bounded away. Without orders to kill they would observe, commune with Thorkild, more often than not enough to make an intruder run for the hills.

Just in case Thorkild climbed out of bed and wrapped himself in his bathrobe, taking his unsheathed saber from his wardrobe and followed the wolves down the hallway and spiral stairs toward the double doors leading into the rest of the Felhund estate. The wolves were close to the intruder, a woman, a woman who was very confidently walking towards his front door. The wolves wanted her dead. Thorkild wanted her to leave, or at least tell him who the llama she was.

Thorkild threw open the doors, the motion activated lights came on as he looked out into the walkway up to his porch and he came face to face with Nadine Efugio.


Americas / I just wanted to use Gideon ok
« on: April 17, 2019, 11:48:06 PM »
North Carolina one of those springtime weather systems that drive you insane, maybe it’s raining, then hailing, then 45 degrees outside before it drops below zero and you wish you’d brought a jacket.

Of course for the weather to drive you insane, you’d need to not have completely lost your mind before even experiencing the Carolinian weather. Such was the case with Gideon Macabre, the Scourge of Scotland. How the mass murderer had arrived in North Carolina was a haze, the Nails has a funny way of making short term memory unreliable. He knew he was in Mexico at one point, crossed paths with a particularly nasty Vampire, and had wound up in Texas before crossing several state lines into his current location.

And this particular location was something beyond painful. It shouldn’t have been, the wilderness of the Appalachian mountains should have kept the Nails away from the magic they so fervently hated, but it was there. Every step made the endless ticking continue to escalate. Pulses of white hot pain and electrical tingling shot down his spine. The killer’s face contorted, his fingers twitched, his shoulders would spasm.

Someone was nearby, someone powerful enough that the Nails wanted them dead. Gideon was happy to oblige them.

His bloodlust kept growing, every step making the burning pain increase, the pulses came faster, Gideon’s growing rage and rampant hatred fought the pain, the Nails struggling to decide between rewarding his emotional state and continuing to drive him to kill whatever was nearby.

Then he found the driveway. Long, stretching enough distance that even Gideon’s enhanced eyesight would struggle to discern what was at the end. But he wasn’t looking that far ahead. The first thing he saw was the gate, a sturdy thing, perfectly welded and powder coated a marvelous color.

Gideon smashed it. His fist collided with the hinge post of one of the leafs. Steel buried with concrete doesn’t match up well to a magical super soldier hopped up on bloodlust that would make anyone squeal. The post snapped, sending it and the gate leaf hinged to it skittering into the driveway.

Then he sprinted. No matter how long the driveway was, Gideon was fast. He’d reach the end and whatever mage was exciting the Nails. He laughed as he ran, someone was going to die, and Gideon wouldn’t wait.

Fan Works / Gideon’s OC Shenanigans
« on: February 07, 2019, 04:37:01 AM »
Days Gone By
(click to show/hide)

Days Gone By, pt 2
(click to show/hide)

Approved Profiles / Ximena Ortez
« on: February 01, 2019, 10:24:48 PM »
Name and Occupation
- Taken Name: Ximena Ortez
- Pronunciation of the Name: Shee-MEH-na/Yhee-MEH-na Or-tayz
- Name Etymology: Ximena is the old Spanish and Portuguese female equivalent of the Hebrew name Simon, meaning listener, after spending 3 days in pitch darkness using primarily her other senses to stay alive, she chose Ximena as her name. Ortez has had several meanings over the years, Ximena chose it for its meaning “communes with the dead.” 
- Given Name: Kathia Azerbaj
- Pronunciation of the Name: Kha-TEE-ah Ah-zer-bojj (a uvular J sound)
- Character Job: Currently Ximena is the head of the Diabla Llameante drug cartel and one of Silas Crayne’s highest ranking lieutenants.
- Qualifications: She a certified badass that’s her qualification my guy.
- Titles: Madre Serpiente (Snake Mother), General (not General Ortez, that would imply there is another general somewhere.)
Character Mentality
- Character Personality:Ximena is predatory in the truest sense of the word. She sees only two kinds of people. Those she can prey upon, and those that can prey upon her. Very few fall into the latter category. Ximena grew up on mean streets full of meaner people, it fashioned her into a conniving, manipulative, and downright lethal woman. Many of her ilk have explosive tempers, inspiring fear and respect through constant violence, but not Ximena. While adept at the art of terror, hers is an altogether more subversive and deadly kind. Wildly unpredictable and viciously sharp, she’s just as likely to threaten someone as she is to have their tongue cut out for insubordination. She uses this unpredictability as a mask to hide her vicious intelligence, she’s cold, calculating, and utterly logical, nothing she does is without clear and pinpoint precise purpose. Ximena is obsessed with control, a chaotic early life has lead to her feeling a constant need to dominate her surroundings, either through being in charge, or allying herself with whoever is, inevitably with a plan to become the one in charge.
- Character Likes: Ximena thoroughly enjoys toying with people, manipulating them into doing exactly what she wants without having to lift a finger. Though she rarely allows it, Ximena loves the transformation she undergoes as a vampire, the feeling of freedom and absolute animal power intoxicates her, even if it means sacrificing some of her mental faculties.
- Character Dislikes: Ximena despises all forms of loss of control, above all she hates having her magic bound, the one thing that separates her from mere mortals. Ximena very thoroughly dislikes Voluntas Arenea. She finds her smug sense of superiority and her constant statements of how uncivilized she is to be beyond grating. But above all she despises how untouchable she seems, and how despite the constant act, she can never lay a finger on Voluntas lest she risk Silas’ wrath, a constant reminder that she is never as in control as she thinks she is.
- Mental Traits: Ximena is far more intelligent than average, and thinks at a faster pace than normal, often she breaks her thoughts into small chunks, finding answers to small pieces of whatever she is faced with and combining them to create a cohesive whole.
Species and Allegiance
- Species: Human/Vampire
- Ethnicity: Colombian/Pakistani
- Nationality: Colombian
- Alignment: Neutral Evil
- Allegiance: Ximena is loyal to Silas Crayne and the Diabla Llameante drug cartel, of which she is the founder and current general of.
- Reasoning: As a child Ximena was powerless, and when the former king of the magical drug trade was disposed of by Silas Crayne, she wanted nothing more than to fill the spot, finally gaining a sense of power and control over her life and surroundings.
- Allies: Silas Crayne and his lackeys, various contacts throughout South America.
- Enemies: All other crime syndicates in Colombia and Venezuela.
- Family: She has a brother and mother in Medellin.
- Friends: Ximena considers no one to be her friend. Either a useful pawn, a useful ally, or an enemy.
- Significant Other: N/A
Character Age and Gender
- True Age: 48
- Appearance Age: 22
- Character Birthday: 8/8/1970
- Gender: Female
Character Appearance
- Skin Colour:  Ximena has caramel brown skin.
- Height: 5’ 7”
- Weight: 60kg
- Hair Description: Ximena’s hair is jet black and extremely curly. Her hair is shoulder length, it is parted in the middle of her forehead and is usually tucked behind her ears or in a ponytail. 
- Eye Description: Ximena has deep chocolate brown eyes.
- Facial Details: Ximena has a narrow, oval shaped face with a large forehead, and dark high-arched eyebrows. Her eyes are somewhat larger than normal, and her eyelids are somewhat sunken. She has a small nose that slants to the right.
- Physical Appearance: Aside from her significantly above average height, Ximena looks fairly unassuming, she has a wiry, athletic figure with a small bust, flat stomach, slender arms, legs, and fingers. Ximena seems to always be hyper-focused, her posture is always that of someone on edge, shoulders raised and leaning slightly forward as if ready to spring at whatever is in front of her. She has quite horrific scarring on middle of the left side of her neck.
- Attire: Ximena wears practical clothing for her environment and line of work, often a tee shirt, tight fitting pants made from breathable fabrics, lightweight boots, and sunglasses, never the same pair back to back. Ximena has several lightweight waterproof jackets and sets of rubber boots that she will wear during the rainy season. Ximena will always have a holster or sheath with some kind of weapon in it, either on her left hip or slung across her back.
Speech and Habits
- Character Voice: Ximena speaks in a low Contralto, her voice is smoky and quiet, but with an air of cold authority.
- Speech Traits: Ximena has a clear Colombian/Spanish intonation, she rolls her R’s, and has a very clear almost sing-song cadence to her speech.
- Languages: Ximena is fluent in several dialects of Spanish and English.
- Habits: Ximena bites her nails constantly, a holdover from her childhood.
- Mannerisms: Ximena will play with her hair when intentionally messing with people, usually when she tells them she isn’t about to cave in their skull.
Weapons, Equipment and Artifacts
- Large Equipment: None
- Small Equipment: Ximena will carry a flashlight at night, usually a combat knife or machete.
- Weaponry: Ximena has a compiled vast collection of firearms over the years.
- Ammunition: If she carries a gun she will rarely carry extra ammunition, generally only carrying what is in the weapon.
- Pocket Items: Wallet, phone, keys, small utility knife.
- Magical Equipment/Artifacts: None.
- Other: Most of Colombia.
Magical and Physical Abilities
- Magic Type: Adept
- Specialization: Bone Breaker
- Immersion Metamorphosis: Ximena has never had an immersion reaction.
- Ability Specific Info: As a bone breaker Ximena is capable of focusing her magic to certain parts of her body and break bones to different degrees with the lightest of touches. Currently the only thing known to stop this from working is either metal armor or fabric layered with an incredible amount of Magebound magic. Ximena can do anything from merely causing cracks to appear in her target, to causing a bone to utterly explode inside her target.
- Magical Abilities: While a large boost in combat, Ximena tends to prefer to use her abilities to devastating psychological effect, often focusing her power into unexpected parts of her body, such as her lips, tongue, or the palm of her hand, causing what should be a harmless gesture to become an incredibly painful and often deadly experience for the victim.
- Physical Abilities: As a vampire and someone who has had to fight to get what she wants all her life, Ximena is a born fighter and survivor, with an immense pain tolerance and near limitless stamina thanks to her affliction, Ximena can take truly insane amounts of punishment despite her small size. In combat Ximena will often go for the kill as quickly as possible, if possible she will avoid hand to hand combat altogether, preferring to simply put a bullet in her problems.
- Strengths: Immense stamina, incredible pain tolerance, due to her vampirism her senses, strength, and speed are all far above an average mage even at their peak.
- Weaknesses: Ximena can be extremely cocky, and while this can be justified in close combat, it leaves her open to psychic attacks and unexpectedly skilled hand to hand combatants. Her magic requires physical contact and can be countered by amor.
- Training: Ximena was primarily self-trained in her magic, however her physical abilities and training came from the previous Colombian drug lord, Jose Notorio.
Magical Afflictions
- Magical Disease or Affliction: Vampire
- Cause of Infliction: Ximena was infected by her “mentor” Jose Notorio.
- Site of Infliction: Ximena has horrific scarring on her neck.
- Benefits: Ximena has massively enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and senses.
- Downsides: Ximena’s young age means that she has a constant thirst for blood, she loses all control of herself when she transforms, and using the Serum is incredibly uncomfortable.
- Fitting In: Ximena uses the serum to avoid the transformation, but as a result of her affliction most mages can tell she is a vampire with just a cursory glance, she moves with unnatural grace and fluidity and has noticeable fangs.
- Suppressant/Cure: There is a suppressant, which she takes. Currently Vampirism has no known cure.
Goals, Motivation and History
- Major Goal: Ximena’s current and only goal is to recapture Rico Classified before Silas has her replaced.
- Minor Goals: Currently, none. 
- Motivation: Ximena is motivated by her all-consuming drive to control, and she would like to get Rico back so that she doesn’t die.
- Bio:

Ximena’s bio contains several scenes of violence and torture, if these things upset you I advise you to steer clear.

(click to show/hide)

Europe / More Valuable Than Gold... (Gideon, Lottie, Murdock)
« on: January 29, 2019, 01:55:23 AM »
His office was completely banana'd. And so was most of his body. The fight had drained most of his energy, Voluntas helping herself to his magic mist definitely didn’t help. Her reaction reminded him of first time Booster users, too much power, not enough experience. It was impressive, truly. He’d seen her empathing in action before, but that, whatever it was, showed what Voluntas could become. It gave him an odd sense of pride, seeing his own power on display in someone else was once in a

”don’t be so smug, Silas. I could have kicked your ass without your magic.” Voluntas said through pursed lips. Silas couldn’t help but chuckle. ”If you thought me being able to see your aura was annoying, imagine now that I can feel your feelings.” Voluntas has finally finished her makeup, Silas thought the tribulations were over, until her green eyes zeroed in on the side of his head.
”You are not going out in public in that state, Silas Crayne.” She said, her tone was uncomfortably stern. She gestured with one finger for him to come closer. Silas obliged. He had a feeling what she was about to do but couldn’t quite put his finger on it, until she pulled her makeup back out.

”Oh llama no. You are NOT putting makeup on the bruise you put on my face.” The werewolf took a step backward as he voiced his displeasure. Voluntas stepped forwards, and pointed at the ground in front of her feet.

”As you WELL know there is enough anti vampire propaganda in this world, I will not have OUR coworkers see you with a purple bruise the size of India on your face after an hour in your office with your vampire business partner.”

Silas would have protested, but it would only make things worse.

After 20 minutes of fussing they finally left the office. Silas apologized to the intern and they made their way to the lobby. In the elevator Silas called Hawkeye. He answered, he sounded tired. Silas promised him one free favor if he saw him and Voluntas as soon as possible. The line was silent for several minutes before Hawkeye agreed, he told them to be there in 15 minutes.

(I had permission to use both Voluntas and Hawkeye))

Asia / Oh hey whats this
« on: October 30, 2018, 04:57:31 PM »
Kazuto loved Bangkok. Bustling nightlife, vaguely nice people, and plenty of people that other people wanted dead. Especially after the events of the previous year, most of Asia had become a safe haven for criminals, outcasts, and the generally unsavory types of the magical world. In this particular case, Kazuto was on a mission from Akira himself, some mages had banded together to form a sort of vigilante group, dedicated to an attempt to wrest control of Thailand back into the hands of the good, decent people. An admirable goal if there ever was one. But it wasn’t nearly advantageous enough to the Nagashino Necromancers. Their higher ups had been easy pickings, they never varied their schedules, they didn’t try nearly hard enough to not make their presence known. Heroes always thought themselves invincible.
Until Kazuto took care of them. They met in the same warehouse every month for two hours, and even if they had seen Kazuto coming, he was no ordinary thug. Two elementals and an energy thrower. By the time they knew something was wrong, Kazuto had shadow walked into the building, appearing in a puff of smoke and a blur of steel. In less than four seconds, what could have been a new beginning for Thailand, maybe a new set of power in Asia, was gone.
And now Kazuto Naginata needed a drink. So he headed into downtown, there was a rooftop bar there that served primarily mages, always a lively spot.   

Fan Works / Keeping a wolf in Vol's basement
« on: January 08, 2017, 03:03:37 AM »
“So this is him? The Scourge of Scotland himself.”
“Why isn’t he sedated?”
“Because as far as we know it isn’t possible.”
“How powerful are the drugs you tried?”
“As powerful as the can be. He shrugs off everything from valium to Midazolam and Fentanyl.”
“You give Etorphine a shot?”
“Yup. The mother goat woke up in 2 minutes.”
“How much did you use?”
“Three milligrams.”
“Holy fishing unpleasant excrement.” Silas pinched his nose and shook his head. He knew it was going to be hard to transport him, but he didn’t bargain for an un-sedatable mass murderer. “Have we tried just, ya know, knocking him unconscious?”
The doctor threw his head back and laughed.
“I won’t let you send anyone into that god-forsaken box. Besides, I doubt we have enough people in the facility here that are trained well enough to even try that.”
Silas arched and eyebrow, Crayne Tower London wasn’t exactly short staffed on security.
“llama do you mean, doctor?”
“I mean we would need to lock them inside a magic-binding box made of five layers of gaol-grade glass engraved with enough wards to make China Sorrows hot between her legs, then expect them to hit Gideon Macabre enough times that he gets knocked out. Especially after what happened in China we don’t want to llama with him.”
“What did it take in China, by the way?”
“A combined force of 30 Cleavers and Rippers, with a squad of Butchers thrown in for good measure. And even there he didn’t go down easy. We activated some kind of… berserker state after Irvine Cutter recaptured Sapphire Knifepoint.
“Again, doctor, llama do you mean?”
“He killed all five Butchers, 5 Cleavers, and 3 Rippers. Another six were in a coma in critical condition, two of them never woke up, another one is paralyzed from the waist down.”
Silas’ jaw dropped. Ever since the start of the Cleaver program he had never heard of someone fighting more than 3 Cleavers at once, let alone with their bare hands. Even behind the immensely powerful walls of the box that contained him, Gideon looked dangerous. Standing almost seven feet tall with Asgardium reinforced bones in his talon-tipped hands, there was nothing about him that wasn’t menacing. And then Silas blinked. For 450 milliseconds, his eyes were closed. In that space of time Gideon went from facing away from him, with his hands behind his back, to standing directly in front of Silas, his hands splayed on the glass. The doctor to his left screamed and jumped backwards, his shoes squeaking on the concrete floor.
It took every ounce of willpower that Silas had not to do the same. But his eyes widened, pupils dilated, color drained from his face and hands, and his lungs sucked in a short, sharp breath. To a normal person he didn’t react, but to Gideon it was plain as day, he started to cackle as he stared Silas down.
“Silas Crayne. The man with a bullet for everyone. Scared of a killer in a box.” Gideon slid his hands off the glass, his claws making scraping sounds as the returned to his sides as he stalked away. The way Gideon moved reminded Silas of a Muay Thai master he had met in the fight pits of Hong Kong, those underground bareknuckle fights and the woman who had broken six of his ribs without even trying.
“I’m not scared of you, dog.” Silas lied through his teeth as he pulled out his cigarettes, noticing his right hand was violently shaking. ‘Times like this I could use Vol and her Empathing.’ He thought to himself. Gideon didn’t react at all, just started pacing. The doctor to his left had righted himself by now, still sweating and breathing heavily. Silas just stared at him. “Go get Voluntas.” He said with the smoke still in his lungs.
“I’m sorry what?”
Silas let the smoke out.
“Keeping secrets from Voluntas is never a good plan. Besides, we’re in London. She finds everything out sooner or later ‘round these parts.”
“But still, it’s not like we’re showing her the fishing puppy that we wanted to surprise her with. It’s more like a goddamned timber wolf in a cage.”
“And she deserves to know her boss is keeping a timber wolf in her back yard.”
The doctor rubbed his temples and walked away, “Fine, Silas,” the doctor lit his own cigarette as he walked. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I, doc, so do I.”

General RP / The fishing. RP. Lottie.
« on: October 29, 2016, 12:44:09 AM »
Black armor glinted in the moonlight, it's lacquered surface simultaneously perfect and weathered, deep cuts from sword blades, remnants of spiderwebbing cracks from mace strikes, and puncture wounds from arrows all had been either filled in completely or edged in gold, making them perfect decorations along with the ornate patters that spiraled everywhere they hadn't been worn off. The horse that the figure rode seemed just as hardened as it's rider, the black chain mail on it'f fore end and haunches has silver scrapes up and down, several pink scars adorned it's face. A light brown cloak was wrapped around the rider's shoulders and head, his arms exposed from the elbows down. Through the narrow slit in the helm one could faintly make out a pair of deep purple eyes that seemed to glow from deep within.

The full moon above cast everything in a pale, baleful light, that seemed to make every shadow a thousand times darker than they had any right to be. The horse and rider went on in solemn silence for a little while longer, soon they came upon a large town, large enough that even half a league away the sounds of music and merriment could faintly be picked out on the breeze. As the black armored rider got closer to the town the faint sounds began to become a dull roar, and the golden light of fires started to beat back the moon's cold light. He rode for a short time before arriving in front of a tavern, a very, very loud tavern. Across the street was a brothel, two red lanterns seemed to beat back all other light, making the entire space seem alien in comparison to the rest of the town.

The rider dismounted and hitched his horse, placing his helmet in one of the saddle bags and pulling the cloak low over his incandescent purple eyes. Now with the helmet off people could make out his face, he had sallow features, with dark black hair and large eyes, his jaw was coated in patchy stubble, there was a small scar on the right side of his mouth, starting below his nose and making it's way across his lips and down to his chin. As the rider walked into the tavern he withdrew a piece of paper from his sleeve, and stuck it to the wall with a spike. It was a call for soldiers of fortune, a promise of gold for those who wouldn't mind getting their hands dirty, and that's before you get to claim whatever loot you find. The only stipulations? Play nice with the Knight Champion, Adric Fell, and be willing to die in a god-forsaken desert.

The rider wandered over to the bar and ordered a tankard of whatever they had that was strong, waiting until after he payed to take off his hood. As soon as he did that the seats on his right and left cleared out, and the barkeep scampered to the other side of the counter, her jaw suddenly very tight. Adric had to suppress a grin, the eyes of a Fell had a habit of intimidating the unpleasant excrement out of anyone. Well...  Almost anyone.

Europe / Wait, wait... You're my Llama-ing Soul Mate?!?
« on: August 02, 2016, 01:16:57 AM »
Silas’ eyes fluttered open, the ferocious beat of a headache already ensuring there wouldn’t be more sleep any time soon. He laid there for a few more minutes, the pain causing lights to dance across the ceiling, like sparks that were far too large, after it subsided to a reasonable level he rolled over to look at his phone. Halfway through the simple motion he realized his grave mistake. Pain, along with several harsh cracks rolled up his back. It felt like molten metal his been poured onto his spine. The werewolf gasped ad clenched his left fist around the blankets. His back had been acting up like that for almost three days now, it was most certainly bad enough to have checked out, but Silas never would, not in London anyways. Some would call it pride, a feeble attempt to hide from his age. In reality it was for Voluntas’ sake, if she ever found out he was having back problems she would fuss over him endlessly, not to mention joke about how old he was, and in London she would most definitely find out. That damned Vampire knew everything there.
The Old Mindwalker sat up, shoving the pain in his back from his thoughts; he had two new messages, both from Voluntas. One was admonishing him for choosing to spend his night up late with some pretty young thing and winding up three hours late for work, the other warning him that if he treated her townhouse in the same way he did the family mansions, she would ensure that he never spent a comfortable night in London again. Silas stood up and looked back at the grey-sheeted bed, the woman he had spent the night with still slept, he couldn’t remember her name for the life of him. Katy, Kathy, Kathia… He didn’t honestly care. In a few hours he’d forget her face, and come a few days he wouldn’t even remember her existing, he had no need of such sentiment.
What he did have need of was clothes so he could get his ass to work. He pulled on some jeans with a whitewashed leather belt and a dark metal buckle, threw on a button up silk shirt and his boots. Silas went to grab his sunglasses on the way out, only to realize he had no need of them, the sky was overcast, with slight amounts of drizzle.
’llama this place.” He thought to himself as he walked outside, a black Aston Martin Rapide was outside, engine running, one of Voluntas’ drivers was in the front seat. He realized that Voluntas had likely sent him when he had failed to arrive on time, likely because she assumed he was drunk. ’not drunk, just a monster headache.’ Silas walked slowly to the back seat and motioned to roll down the window. ”In her web.” He said to the driver. Que l’araignee est sur.” The driver responded, ensuring Silas that this was indeed one of Vol’s drivers. He climbed in and enjoyed the ride to Crayne Tower. There would have been no need for such measures if the Russian would ever leave Voluntas’ vicinity.
The driver let him out at the entrance to Crayne Tower, Silas thanked him and walked into the lobby. Each Crayne Tower was largely the same, the only exceptions being New York, and this one. Though in large part Crayne Tower London was unique thanks to Voluntas’ unique design choices. The floor was an expertly made mosaic of black and white marble, laid over each other to create intricate floral patterns, the edge of every flower adorned with a thin strip of gold, the center petals were all made of precious gems. Every stem and leaf were connected, and they all came together in the center of the room, forming to purely black two meter wide roses, surrounded with a gold oval six meters in diameter. The top half of the oval was engraved with the words ‘Crayne Consolidated Tower, London, Est. 1901.”
Silas made his way quickly across the floor, lightly stepping into the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor and it immediately started moving. There was no sound inside, magical enhancement of the materials made sure it was almost perfectly soundproof. The floor of the elevator was three layered pieces of wood covered in a shiny lacquer, each layer created a part of the Crayne Consolidated logo that covered most of the floor, a massive compass rose with the words Crayne Consolidated written underneath the east-west points. The elevator came to a stop on the 32nd floor, and Silas stepped out.
The floors were solid oak, the walls were black, pictures and paintings were hung on the wall. In the center of the room was a block of cubicles, each one three times the size of an average cubicle, and every one made of stainless steel and glass that could be blacked out at the press of a button. Solid white letters informed one of who the cubicle belonged to. A massive clock stylized like a compass rose made up the ceiling, however there was no ticking, despite the constant movement of the clock.

Silas started to make his way towards the end of the room, where his office was. The glass that made up the door was blacked out, and a do not enter placard was hanging on the handle. As he walked closer to the door he began to feel more and more uneasy.  His usual cocksure attitude quickly fading away, replaced by inexplicable mounting dread. As he opened the door he noticed his hand shaking. He was forced to wonder if what he was feeling these emotions himself, or if his partner had manufactured them.
Silas entered and stared at Vol. Her pale lags and arms were crossed in a sign of disapproval.
He leaned against the wall of the office, nervously scratching his neck where the collar was touching it.
"s-so Vol, how's your day gone?"

Approved Profiles / Silas Crayne
« on: July 17, 2016, 10:45:00 PM »
Name and Occupation
- Taken Name: Silas Crayne
- Pronunciation of the Name: Sai-las Cray-n
- Given Name: Aleron LaRouque
- Pronunciation of the Name: Ay-loe-roon La-Roke
- Character Job: CEO of Crayne Consolidated, a member of The Cabal.
- Titles: Mr. Crayne, some Italians jokingly called him Argento, the Italian word for Silver, during the War. However after seeing his werewolf form, they gave him the literal name of Lupo d’Argento, given the silvery fur.

Character Mentality
- Character Personality: Silas is a dangerous individual. He is brutal and sadistic, without mercy and lacking empathy, however in everyday life he is a suave, charming and smooth talking individual. His brutality and constantly simmering rage is only tempered by the knowledge that he has an appearance to keep up. Silas tries to avoid violence whenever possible, but by no means a pacifist, preferring to use scare tactics or blackmail to get what he wants. But despite his current state of violent hatred of the entire world, some know he wasn’t always this way. He cared deeply for people close to him, back when people could get close to him, and would go to great lengths to keep the people he loved safe. Some say he never lost this for his sisters. However, his mother’s insanity and constant abuse of him and his two sisters changed that. He wears the mask of rage and psychopathy so well even he thinks it is in fact his real face, but it isn’t. At his core, Silas is broken, drowning his deep-seated feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing over being unable to protect his sisters and first wife in alcohol and women. No matter how much wealth, power, and sexual conquests Silas has, and no matter how many people care for him deeply he will always see himself as an outcast, a pariah to be spit on even by the lowest of the low with no family to call his own.
- Character Likes: Power, music, cigars, whiskey, attractive women.
- Character Dislikes: Getting blood on his boots, being blackmailed or losing a fight. Silas also despises those who solicit prostitutes, finding it to be pathetic.
- Mental Traits:  Sadistic, Two-Faced, Conniving and manipulative, Silas suffers from constant nightmares, and often will go up to three days without sleep purely to avoid them, however as he goes longer and longer without sleeping he will develop hallucinations, mostly of his sister dying in his arms, or of his first wife and child dying before him. Silas has a deep-seated inferiority complex as well as it’s mirroring superiority complex. 

Nationality and Allegiance
- Race and Nationality: Werewolf, French.
- Allegiance: Neutral Evil.
-Organization: The Cabal, Crayne Consolidated.
- Reasons for Allegiance: Silas and Crayne Consolidated are working towards the goal of crippling the Sanctuaries and by extent, the world, the same goes for the Cabal. While Silas swears his allegiance to the Cabal, he is more than willing to burn their operations and all of them to the ground in exchange for more power.

- Allies: The other members of the Crayne Consolidated, Takeo Narada, The Cabal (Who are not aware of his scheming).
- Enemies: The Sanctuaries, Hellion Spawn, plenty of people who he has stabbed in the back, some literally, some figuratively.
- Family: Dead, his youngest sister, Adrianna, only died a few years ago. Despite Silas assuming her dead for almost 200 years. He took custody of her daughter Alexandrine after her death. 
- Friends: Silas would say he has plenty of friends, but not really. The sheer amount of money he has coupled with his naturally guarded personality means he rarely interacts with anyone on a level even approaching friendship. The one person Silas knows without a doubt is his friend is Voluntas Arenea.
- Significant Other: Leah Riverose was Silas’ first love, and whether he admits it or not he has a soft spot for her still. Silas has been married twice, divorced once, his first wife was killed by the American arm of Mevolent’s forces during the war.

Character Age
- True Age:  630
- Appearance Age: Late 40’s, early 50’s.
- Character Birthday:  13/12/1383
-Gender: Male, identifies as such.

Character Appearance
- Character Skin Colour/Ethnicity: Silas' skin is normally somewhat pale, but tans very easily. His tan has a reddish undertone.
- Character Height: 6’ 3”
- Character Weight: 100 kg. 
- Character Hair Colour: Hazel brown, starting to grey on the sides.
- Character Hair Length/ Style:  Silas has wavy hair that is about 8 centimeters long, worn in various ways depending on the day. His usual styles are either swept to the right side or slicked all the way back.
- Character Eye Colour: Silas has electric blue eyes with even lighter blue swirling through them, making it seem like he has a white pattern in his irises. Minor immersion metamorphosis occurs when he uses his magic, making his eyes become a glowing soft cyan in color, and his pupils become slits. The only oddity in his Immersion Reaction is that his pupils become like that of a ram, not snake or cat-like. 
- Character Description: Silas is tall and has a toned body. He isn’t overly muscled but his forearms, biceps and calves have curvature. He has a broad muscular chest with six pack abs. He has various scars across his hands and forearms from a hundred years or hard work and battle, his knuckles are crisscrossed with a lot of faint scars. Over the years a lot of women have considered him very attractive. Silas has very obviously French features. He has an angular jawline, average sized lips, almond shaped eyes set into deep sockets and high, swooping cheekbones. There are visible lines around his eyes and forehead, mainly stress lines. Silas generally keeps clean shaven, but his facial hair grows remarkably fast, meaning he can often be seen with a 5 O’clock shadow.
Silas has 3 sigils carved into his neck, 2 on either side and one at the nape. They alter his appearance slightly making his features appear softer or sharper depending on which one he activates, they also cause the shadows and light on his face to contrast much more sharply, leading to his face seeming to be far more defined than almost anyone else’s. They give his skin an ethereal glowing quality as well. The effects of the sigils are utterly illusions; they serve no purpose other than to feed his vanity.
His left wrist has a black ring tattoo around it, on the underside of it is a green teardrop shape with the Chinese character Fu inside. It pays homage to his former lover, Leah Riverose, and a necklace she gave him hundreds of years ago. Across each of his shoulder blades in a half circle pattern in tribal-esque lettering are two phrases, “No shepherd for the Black Sheep”, “and No minister for the heretic.”  Coming down his spine is a series of Chinese characters that read as "Death before surrender".
- Character Attire: When he is working Silas has a vast collection of dress clothes, primarily suits and various kinds of button up shirts. Most of his clothes are not magically tailored, being from mortal fashion companies of all stripes. He has a particular soft spot for Versace shirts and jackets, finding their outlandish and exuberant style to be just his type. When not working Silas usually wears blue jeans and boots, as though he was going to work with his hands. He will wear a T-shirt of some kind generally, along with a leather jacket he has had since the early 60’s. He wears a leather belt with an old and tattered Iron buckle, the belt itself is whitewashed. Silas’ jeans are usually old and battered, as are his boots. Just because he likes to act like a stereotype American Silas will wear a pair of aviators, often amber lenses with a carbon fiber frame, but he has been known to switch it up from time to time. Silas will often wear a Stetson, either black or white, always with a black band holding a tarnished iron skull on the front. 
Silas has an extensive wrismidgetch collection, and prides himself on always having a different watch for different occasions.
Silas also has combat attire, which looks like this:
(click to show/hide)
Habits and Mannerisms
The thing on his forearm is a shield gauntlet made of magically fortified steel.
- Character Voice: Silas has a baritone voice, not particularly booming or powerful, but carrying a clear sense of authority and self-assurance.
- Speech Traits: Silas has an odd mixture of accents thanks to extensive time spent abroad and around the United States, he has a very clear old Southern intonation, notable in the way he often drops his R’s from words like ‘power’, simultaneously he has picked up a good amount of Alexandrine’s Midland American accent, evidenced in the vowel shifts it words like ‘dress’, which can sometimes come out more like ‘druss’.   
- Languages: Silas is fluent in German, French, Russian and English. He is capable of speaking several other languages at a basic level thanks to his magic; just enough to interact with his clients, his understanding of Mandarin Chinese is the strongest of these weak links in his language skills.
- Habits: Silas is a smoker and a recovering alcoholic, though he does slip up he made the choice to stop drinking once he discovered his Soul Bond to Voluntas. Silas drums his fingers to a random beat when bored.
- Mannerisms: Silas scratches his head constantly, especially when stressed, oftentimes he has actually cut his head, much to the dismay of Voluntas who finds it both improper and uncomfortable on her head. Silas’ hands shake moderately, while he can deal with it and write his name normally and such, until he has adjusted to not drinking this will continue.

Weapons, Equipment and Artifacts
- Large Equipment: A briefcase, both mechanically and magically protected.
- Small Equipment: A wrismidgetch, what kind of watch varies day to day.
- Pocket Items: Wallet, keys, iPhone.
- Ammunition: He still own belts to hold bullets from the 1800’s.
- Weaponry: Silas owns a very old pair of Colt Single Action Army revolvers, various weapons scattered around offices and homes the world over, however he rarely if ever carries one on his person.
- Magical Equipment/Artifacts: His Pocket watch, made of Mnemosium, the watch itself doesn’t act as his animus, however the gemstones both within the watches’ workings and the quartz face serve as his animi. Another effect that the watch has that is, when a small amount of magic is poured into it the Mnemosium reacts by forming an intricately etched skull onto the top of the watch, with the initials SC on the forehead, the signifies him as himself and proves he isn't being impersonated, both in circles within the Cabal and Crayne Consolidated’s upper echelons.
- Other: Maserati Gran Turismo MC Stradale, 2 penthouse apartments in Chicago and Dubai, as well as many manor homes and estates all over the world, including a secret island getaway on Madagascar.

Magic and Abilities
- Magic: Adept
- Specialization: Mindwalking
- Immersion Metamorphosis: Minor immersion metamorphosis occurs when he uses his magic, making his eyes become an incredibly bright electric blue, and his pupils become slits. The only oddity in his immersion Reaction is that his pupils become like that of a ram, not snake or cat-like, under intense stress or pain his features become vaguely wolf-like and his speed, stamina and strength are all increased exponentially, his immersion reaction eyes are always present when he reaches this stage regardless of whether his magic is being used, crackles of electric blue energy with the appearance of small lightning bolts will appear and disappear when his eyes change color.
- Ability Specific Info/Magical Abilities: Silas’ specialties are Telepathy and Memory Manipulation. Silas has theorized that he could be capable of thought projection, though he has never seriously attempted it nor achieved it. Silas mastery of Telepathy came about before his 400 years of experimentation with memory, as a result he is a very fine example of an expert Telepath, and able to read the minds of almost anyone thanks to the number of people he has in various places. However, his Memory skills are far from rumors. A true prodigy even when he was only a couple hundred years old, Silas is a rare example of someone with a true affinity for this skill. Silas is capable of removing a memory, and replacing it with an altogether different one in only a few seconds. The effect will only last around eight minutes when done that quickly. However, if enough time is given, Silas can either wipe an entire mind clear, or give an entirely false set of memories for an extended period of time, he cannot rewrite a person’s entire life, but he can alter or provide entire new memories for up to a week prior. He is notorious for using this power to make people incredibly uneasy. One of Silas’ favorite weapons is the fact that he is very capable of using Detailed Erasure, the ability to remove certain aspects of a memory rather than the entire one. For instance, rather than removing the memory of being shot, Silas could make the person forget the shooter, or where they were when they were shot. Able to implant vague memories like seeing a concealed weapon or people who were never there easily and without being detected by anyone but a significantly powerful sensitive or other Mindwalker.
Silas is also a very experienced Spiker, capable of inflicting pain in varying degrees and to different parts of the body depending on his wishes. Silas is also capable of deciding what kind of pain to inflict, this can range from burning, freezing cold, stabbing, or any number or awful pains. Due to his upbringing Silas does not have the same holdups with using spiking as many Mindwalkers do. Silas is fully capable of causing lifelong cognitive damage due to the power of his spiking ability, though anyone he has spiked that severely is more than likely not still alive to discuss the lasting effects.   
Most of Silas’ memories and thoughts are heavily protected by Wards, and he is known to be able to shield himself from having his thoughts or memories read in an instant, and it is notoriously hard to break his shields. Most of his thoughts are organized into cases, the most important being protected both by Mindwalker wards of his own creation, and sensitive shields. Attempting to break through Silas’ wards will cause psychic feedback that inflicts pain on both the attacker and Silas himself.
- Physical Abilities: While by no means a force of nature on a battlefield, Silas can hold his own in a fight, if not for very long. His age and years of abusing his body means that most younger mages or well-trained physical combatants could beat him handedly in a fair fight. Of course, age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance, and Silas is nothing if not treacherous.   
- Signature Ability:  Silas's signature move is, when an opponent is weakened to grip their face and use the Erasure aspect of memory manipulation to literally wipe their mind clear.
- Strengths: Very useful for enemies that can cause trouble in the future, or who present a very real threat. He will also use this aspect as a torture and blackmail ability, or to keep his employee’s in line.
- Weaknesses: Wiping an entire mind requires an immense amount of power and time, it will literally take Silas days to finish, and at the end of a “session” he is completely unable to use magic for the rest of the day or even extending to the next day depending upon how long the session lasted. The success rate of erasing an entire mind is far from 100%, as the target’s willpower, the presence of wards or other sensitive-given protection, or actual psychic resistance from the target, can result in an incomplete erasure or a total failure. The biggest actual use of this technique is the fact that the few people it has worked fully on serve as such powerful weapons of terror that most will simply stay in line lest they end up under Silas’ mental knife.
- Training: Silas was privately trained for the first 70 years, and has continued to both learn from masters and himself over the years, as well as ancient texts, most of which line the walls of his office of his manor home in France.
Magical Diseases

- Magical Disease or Affliction: Werewolf
- Inflictee: Silas inherited the condition from his father.
- Bite Mark:None, Silas’ inherited the condition.
- Werewolf Form: Silas’ werewolf form is significantly more muscular than the average werewolf, and has silver fur that is obviously greying around the snout and eyes. Scars crisscross its body. It has faintly glowing cyan eyes, the pupils are like that of a ram, and a lightning like aura surrounds him when he first transforms. 
- Benefits: Increased speed, stamina and faster healing.
- Downsides: His transformation is particularly painful due to his age, and can often carry over back to his human form, while taking the suppressant it can cause severe headaches and anxiety as his wolf side tries to get out.
- Fitting In: Silas used to simply wait out the transformation during the phases where he would transform, however after discovering the Soul Bond it was decided that he should switch to using the hemlock and silver shaving concoction, as Voluntas would much prefer to deal with his irritability thank his animal side.   
- Suppressant/Cure: There is a suppressant, a mixture of silver shavings and hemlock, which Silas uses.

Soul Bond
-Soul Mate: Voluntas Arenea.
-Length and Strength of the Bond: Silas became soul bonded to Voluntas very recently, the exact date is unknown, though Silas theorizes the Bond has been present for some time, and only recently became so evident. Their bond is extremely powerful, given that they both possess psionic magic and powerful souls.
-Interactions Between Soul Mates: Silas and Voluntas both are in tune with slightly different aspects of each other. Silas is very aware of Voluntas’ thoughts and memories, and while he is aware of her feelings and surroundings it isn’t nearly as strong. In particular Silas can sense when she hears, feels, or sees something that triggers a particularly strong memory, Silas will also experience the flashback.
-Shared Immersion Reaction: When Silas or Voluntas enter Immersion Metamorphosis it will immediately bring the other into an immediate Immersion Reaction. This is incredibly dangerous, as the Shared Immersion Reaction will immediately entwine their minds and souls into a single personality thanks to them both being psionics. This state is referred to as The Manifold, and is incredibly dangerous for both parties involved, as they risk their minds being permanently melded together, torn apart, or simply leaving pieces of one another behind in the other person’s mind. Though their bodies don’t physically join together, they do remain nearby, allowing them to protect their bodies more effectively. When Silas and Voluntas reach their shared immersion reaction Silas will gain a large electric blue aura around him in the form of a wolf, the aura will change as Silas and Voluntas use their magic, with magic arcing off of it like electricity when Silas uses mindwalking and it’s eyes changing colors depending on what emotion Voluntas is using. In this state Silas will always stay close to Voluntas, often walking in protective circles around his soul mate.

Goals, Motivation and History
- Major Goal: Control both the mortal government and the Sanctuary.
- Minor Goals: None at the moment.
- Reasoning behind goal: Mostly down to his power-hungriness, he blames the Sanctuaries for what happened to his mother.
- Bio: Silas, born as Aleron LaRouque in southern France, the LaRouque family were old power, even back in 1383, both in the magical and mortal world. Militarily powerful and with connections to the crown, mostly as hired soldiers, the LaRouqe’s were almost uncontested in the magical world. Silas was the firstborn of four children, and thus was the inheritor of everything. Silas’ father, and his father before him, and so on and so forth, were all Mindwalkers. As a result, at only the age of five Silas began to hear voices, tiny little snippets of thoughts in other people’s heads. Silas’ family quickly capitalized on this development, he was immediately trained by his father and his grandfather in the art of Mindwalking.

To the outside world, Aleron’s life seemed perfect. He was rich, in a time when almost everyone had nothing, and he seemed to be treated well. However, this was not the case. His father was a verbally and emotionally abusive man, one of his favorite things to say to Aleron when he was young was, “No shepherd for the black sheep.” To this day, he remembers that phrase. But his mother, his mother was the physically abusive one.

Prone to bouts of extreme violence, his mother would not only beat Aleron, but almost anyone she could get her hands on randomly, she switched from beating Aleron viciously to apologizing and showering him in gifts almost daily. At 25 Silas took his name. At the age of 100 Silas had finished the tutoring of his father and grandfather, and had become heavily involved in the family business. The business was the running and ownership of a mercenary outfit named the Hundred Hounds, or Cents Chiens in French. The name was slightly misleading, given that at the time of Silas joining the ranks there were over 3000 men in the unit, with another 50 in a separate cavalry battalion. There were 100 men in an army, 50 in a battalion, 25 in a regiment, 15 in a company, and 5 in a squad. Silas was assigned the rank of Captain, in command of the 2nd Cavalry Company, also called the Hurlant Compagnie, or Howling Company. At first Silas was doubted, he had never seen combat before, and many of the men under his command thought him to be a soft young man from a rich sorcerer family. This changed in the first battle he was involved in. He and his 15-man company comprised mainly of Elementals, with two energy throwers and one Necromancer. Silas was going to charge a line of infantry, but rather than the traditional method of run in and wreck things, Silas began to use a fairly basic Mindwalking technique, psychic navigation. He bounced through the minds of the enemy, hunting for the mentally weakest, and achieved an amazing feat for someone so young; he spiked seven people at once. As soon as this happened, Silas and his Company charged, sabers drawn, and smashed through the front line, this charge won the day for the Hundred Hounds client. 

Silas would go on to win several battles for the Hundred Hounds using this technique over the next 33 years or so, then, in 1455 Silas and his family received an interesting correspondence from East Asia, Chen Le Xiao and Li Bian Huai in China were having trouble with another family. They needed a contractor with no allegiance in the area; the Hundred Hounds were the first on the list. Silas’ parents eagerly accepted and sent the Howling Company, albeit with five extra members. Riding magically enhanced horses capable of travelling almost three times the distance in a day, they reached their destination in two and two thirds months, or 50 days in total. Upon arrival Silas was shown the family’s business as it pertained to him and the Howling Company, as well as being introduced to their daughter, Li He Hua, and they set to work. The Howling Company were so effective that the family asked them to remain for some time, protecting trade routes and such. In 1459, shortly after their daughter had begun to become more of a go-between for her parents and Howling Company, Silas would avert an attempt on young He Hua’s life. The man, an expert in sigil magic snuck into the Li’s estate. He was armed with twin daggers, each dipped in a lethal cocktail of poison. Fortunately, depending on one’s perspective, (given that He Hua would no doubt have survived the attack), Silas was nearby that day.

His Werewolf-enhanced muscles meant that Silas was on him before he even knew what was happening, but he was faster than Silas has anticipated. He spun, his dagger coming only inches from Silas’ throat. The two fought for a short time, it was short and violent. Silas expertly knocked the man’s daggers from his hands, now disarmed; the assassin was forced to use his magic. Waves of blue energy hurled from his fists as he threw punch after punch at Silas. But Silas’ magic came out shortly after. With a vicious spike he doubled over, and Silas ran his Tulwar through his face. Even before this, but especially after, Silas began to notice that He Hua had fairly clear feelings for him. And if Silas was honest, he returned them.
The two became close, with Silas often spending extended periods of his off-duty time with her, what they did and how close they became is a closely guarded secret of Silas’s, however through records obtained through unknown means from an unnamed member of the Howling Company, it is known that their relationship was deeply intimate, on both the physical and emotional levels. At some point in late 1464 Silas was given a silver necklace with the Chinese character fú, meaning luck, suspended from it in jade. (Silas would lose this item in the mid-1800’s, only to have it tattooed onto his wrist.)

In late 1465 Silas suffered a psychotic break on the battlefield due to extended use of his Psychic Navigation, and attacked his own men. They had to knock him unconscious in order to bring him back to their camp. They informed He Hua that Silas had received an urgent message to return home, and so the Howling Company departed China.       
25 years of therapy brought Silas back fully to reality, however he doubted he would ever truly see combat again. Instead he was put into the business side of the Mercenary outfit, picking up contracts and collecting payments. Silas’ ruthless nature and natural business acumen made him a shoe-in for this roll. He managed this side of the company right up until the year 1762, when the LaRouque family made the move to the young nation of America, and took the Hundred Hounds with them.

In the still-young magical community in America, the LaRouque’s arrival was a fairly large upset, up until then Irish and German families had been the dominant forces. However the LaRouques very quickly became very powerful, buying out several legitimate businesses. Silas was moved from the Mercenary unit to the legitimate business side. Silas’ ruthlessness kept him at the top for a long time. 

However, there was another family who had been pushed down on the hierarchy by the LaRouques arrival that would not go quietly. The Messer’s were old power like the Larouques, and wanted the top dog spot back. It began as a legitimate business duel, however, things quickly turned violent.

The Messer’s also had a mercenary unit, the White Cloaks, and they made the first move. They struck a tobacco field owned by the LaRouques, burned it to ash and killed several of the workers in the field. Silas’ brother, Perrier, who had become the de-facto commander of the Hundred Hounds in his father’s old age, struck back, destroying a blacksmith’s owned by the Messer family.

This feud continued for almost a year before the two battle-hardened magical mercenaries would meet on an open battlefield. Silas once again let the Howling Hounds across a battlefield, his saber in one hand, and his horse’s reigns in another. Silas was once again, fully alive. The Hundred Hounds won a decisive victory over the White Cloaks, and Silas thought the feud would end there. But the Messer’s thought they would have the last word.

The Messer’s oldest son, who was well over 200, thinking himself to be taking vengeance on the family that had wronged his, raped and murdered one of Silas’ sisters. Silas heard her screams echo through the home, but by the time Silas got to her she was already beyond saving. Silas immediately rooted through her memories in her last few precious seconds, finding the face of her killer. He found him, and told her he would take his revenge on the son of a dog of female orientation that had killed her. But this came at a cost. Silas didn’t just see everything his sister went through, he felt it, all of it. Not just what happened while she was alive, but he was in her head when she died. Silas felt what it was like for life to leave his body. To this day, he carries that burden of knowing exactly what it’s like to die.

Immediately Silas dressed, he dressed well, but kept the shirt he had been wearing at the moment of his sister’s death. The blood was still wet on the dark blue silk. He grabbed his pair of flintlock pistols, as well as his brother’s, and got on his horse, set for the Messer’s house. He stalked up the steps of their manor home, two pistols in his hands, two strung around his neck. With strength the likes of which he has never since replicated Silas kicked the door of the Messer’s home open. He followed his mind to the son who had raped and murdered his sister.

Silas wasted no time. Two bullets into the stomach, then he grabbed the man by his nightclothes and dragged him outside. The parents of the man ran outside, hearing his cries of pain, only to see their son bleeding profusely, held upright on his knees by none other than Silas Crayne. They pleaded for a moment, but Silas wasn't listening. He slammed his sister’s rapist into the stone steps, once, twice, three times. Blood covered the steps, Silas slammed him into the steps one last time, then put two more bullets into the back of the rapist’s head, splattering his brain all over the marble steps of the manor.

Silas returned to his home, over a century of battle and ruthless business had hardened him, what he had just done made no impact, but what did was the sheer ridiculousness of the last year, the unnecessary bloodshed, the destruction of property, all for what? Silas didn't know and this thought sat at the back of his mind for decades. What did affect him was what had been done to his sister, the disrespect to his family was unforgivable, this event is what kindled the first flames of the rage that dwells in Silas still.
The Year was 1801, Silas had rebuilt what he could of the LaRouque empire, but was on the brink of walking away. The Sanctuary at the time of the LaRouque’s feud was too busy to handle what was happening; however, three years later someone had found the reports of murders and decided to take a look. The Sanctuary launched an investigation into both the LaRouques and the Messer’s. The Messer’s fate isn’t written in anything pertaining to the LaRouque’s. The records are believed to have been destroyed at some point in the War. However, the added stress completely snapped Silas’ mother, who was at the time teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown. She went utterly insane, and killed Silas brother, Perrier, and then herself.

After this, Silas was done, he left the Family and the business empire he had built, and started wandering. The year was 1830. Silas wandered the American west, looking for himself at the bottom of a shot glass and down the barrel of a pistol. He picked up plenty of scars and plenty of stories out there during the War, on his drunken haze of a vision quest. He killed a man over a bet about which of two raindrops would get down a window first, fell in with a crowd of Italian bounty hunters and chased a Faceless Ones follower from Louisiana to Oregon, he watched swarms of ghost horses gallop across a swamp and their spectral cloaked herder, when Silas looked him in the eyes, from his mind Silas could only find pain, sadness, and loneliness. Silas even claims to have been so fast in his prime that he deflected a bullet with the back of his hand, so far no one can corroborate this tale.

After getting tired of wandering he settled for a couple of years in a small mining town in Arizona, making a name for himself as a rare combination of hard worker and smooth talker. He came on as a ranch hand with a wealthy cattle farmer, a little over a year into being there Silas had a wife and a child, and his own small patch of land. His life was simple, he had put his revolvers away for a time, even hung up his famous skull-adorned hat. But in 1842 that would all change. According to official Sanctuary records, Mevolent's forces attacked without any warning, and without any mercy, led by their single greatest fighter in the midwest, an Irish woman named Caitlyn Creevan, a sharpshooter with a reputation for brutality.

All Silas has ever divulged about that tragic night was that his six-month old daughter and wife were killed by a sharpshooter's bullet, and the entire town burned. Silas doesn't know how many made it out alive, and the North American Sanctuary has never divulged the estimate.

After this Silas sought out the Italian bounty hunters who he had helped years before, he told them they would live comfortably for all their days if they assisted him in killing Caitlyn Creevan. Naturally the Italians agreed. A one-year long hunt occurred, before they found her, and her bodyguards in a cattle-town in Montana, thunder boomed overhead, and it began to pour down rain as the Italians and Silas drew up a vague plan.

The ensuing gun battle lasted two hours, and eventually came down to brutal hand-to-hand combat, with Silas and the Italians coming out on top, but the sharpshooter was nowhere to be found. Silas reached out with his mind, and found her hiding in a church bell tower. Instantly he spiked her, his emotions running so high and his intent so murderous that it knocked her unconscious. They nailed her to a wooden frame inside the bell and lit a fire underneath it after she regained consciousness. Silas still remembers the screams, and the smell of burning flesh in the stillness of the night.

In 1906 Silas returned to his family, to find that his last sibling, his sister Adrianna, had fallen ill and died in his absence. The Hundred Hounds were disbanded, and everything had been left to Silas. He immediately took over. Over the next several decades he rebuilt his empire yet again, and expanded it. Steel, oil, mining of precious metals, coal, and diamonds, in 1952, when Silas made his first billion, he unified his industries under the banner of Crayne Consolidated, the acronym CC paying homage to the French mercenary outfit that was Silas’ first venture into business.

In 1969 Silas became the second member of the Cabal, brought on by Adam Monroe. In 1970 Silas re-formed the Hundred Hounds with the help of Nazim Khamel, a sorcerer Algerian-born French Foreign Legion ex-pat, who had served with the Hundred Hounds when Silas was commanding the Howling Hounds, and the Italian bounty hunters who had been by Silas' side for a good deal of the war, Silas also began to experiment with corporate espionage. In 1980 they became a fully recognized Private Military Contractor and mercenary outfit for those in the criminal underworld. In 1975 Silas killed and took over the empire of Jose Notorio, a Colombian Drug trafficker and kingpin, this was when his Lieutenant Ximena Ortez came on with him. The manufacturing of Magical drugs began in 1983. In 84’ Silas began to make a move on Paris, which was at the time controlled by one Hellion Spawn, the Hundred Hounds and Silas’ seemingly infinite resources forced Hellion to concede the city to him. Unknown to Silas, he had just made a lifelong enemy. However, Silas wasn't done, despite Hellion’s control of Africa, Silas moved into the North, specifically Coastal Algeria, Morocco, and remains in complete control of Tunisia, as well as minor operations in Cote d’Ivoire. However this territory war died down when clear borders were drawn, the two met in Russia, neutral territory, and came to an understanding.

In 2006 Silas learned that his sister Adrianna had only died one year prior, and she had sent her daughter to be in his care. Silas, propelled by loyalty to his sister, adopted the young mage. Silas’ most recent noteworthy activity was to spearhead the Cabal’s destruction of the Chinese Sanctuary. 

- Suescore: 1

Discussion and Planning / The Suicide Squad (Plot, closed)
« on: April 20, 2015, 04:31:38 AM »
Anyone who is part of this is up to date with the details either through PM's or Skype. The gist of it is, that the Cabal, with Silas spearheading the effort,  are going to kidnap and blackmail several mages into razing the Chinese Sanctuary for them, which will assert the shadowy group as the dominant power in China.
I will be making Chinese Sanctuary Elders as NPCs, all the rest are unnamed and shall be killed at will and without any need for permission, the killing of Elders will be doled out.
It works this way, there will be two groups, a kill team, and a retrieval team. The retrieval team is being sent to recover the Spear of Longinus, which will be done by the time the RP is ready to go, they are also to retrieve a nameless magical bomb that's going to blow up the Sanctuary..
The Kill Team is being sent to kill the Elders and Grand Mage, fairly straightforward.
The teams meet back up after their respective objectives are completed.

The characters and players in this plot are as follows;
Gideon: Kazuto Naginata (Retrieval Team), Gideon Macabre(Kill Team)

Flint Deadshot: Flint Deadshot (Retrieval Team), Sapphire Knifepoint(Kill Team)

Phill Jupitus: Draconius "Draco" Falcone (Kill Team)

MsMadMurdock: Dirk Impervious (Retrieval Team)

Gale: Rift, (Retrieval Team)

Keilax: Malik Vaccaria (Kill Team), Matthew Bennett (Retrieval Team)

Individual topics can be made to explain what's happening and how your characters became embroiled in all this madness. Or it can be explained in the intro, it's left up to you. In the case of Gideon, Kazuto, and Matthew, Hunter's Union will act as that explanation.
Any questions?

Forum Games / Rate the Signature!
« on: April 18, 2015, 09:07:38 PM »
Name says it all.

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 9