Post by Shadow on Aug 23, 2014 11:33:34 GMT -8
"Shadow"
Up for grabs
Theme song:
"Cast it Out" by Ten Years
Physical/Psychological Description:
Shockingly white eyes rimmed in black are the first noticeable thing most people will see, that is, if they aren't outright frightened by the constant aura of fear emitted from Shadow. With pale skin and dark contrasting clothing, the Etherial would blend well into most crowds; however, Shadow tends to favor his escapades at night rather than during the day. Stalking is one of his primary interests, and he'll not hesitate to follow his chosen target all throughout the night regardless of where they go. He also has an uncanny interest in blood and the pain that follows--testing others to see how far their bodies can be pushed until death takes over. If a mortal is lucky enough to encounter him and be terribly maimed, (or in some cases he leaves people alone), it was Shadow's way of being nice.
In his true form, Shadow's blackened charred hands hide underneath a tattered black robe sleeves-- a series of long silver blades extend from above each knuckle permanently anchored there. It is even more rare to see these blades cleaned of blood when he assumes his wraith self.
While Shadow is 62 years old, he is still considered by his species to be a young child; however, he is so used to disguising himself as an adult that it has become second nature to him, and most of the time he forgets who he really is-- dangerously falling into childlike regressions every so often, mostly when he's frightened or angered.
In his true form, Shadow's blackened charred hands hide underneath a tattered black robe sleeves-- a series of long silver blades extend from above each knuckle permanently anchored there. It is even more rare to see these blades cleaned of blood when he assumes his wraith self.
While Shadow is 62 years old, he is still considered by his species to be a young child; however, he is so used to disguising himself as an adult that it has become second nature to him, and most of the time he forgets who he really is-- dangerously falling into childlike regressions every so often, mostly when he's frightened or angered.
Playby :
Line art (by Eury); Dementor
Age:
62 (acts, usually, and looks 20 in human years)
Gender:
Male
Race:
The Gods Made Me An Etherial
Height:
62 yrs:4'5" 20 yrs (human): 5'11"
Weight:
62 yrs: 63 lbs 20 yrs (human): 140 lbs
What is it you're looking for?:
Friends with benefits maybe?
Hooking up?:
Single
Class::
My Profession Is Oracle
Statistics:
The numbers you have to chose from are 18,16,14,14,12,10. Each number can only be used once.
Strength:12
Dexterity:18
Constitution:12
Intelligence:10
Wisdom:14
Charisma:16
Etherial: +2 Dex +2 Wis -2 Str (not factored in)
Child: +2 Dex +2 Cha -2 Str (not factored in)
Blackened +2 Cha
Total: +4 Dex +4 Cha +2 Wis -4 Str
Dexterity:18
Constitution:12
Intelligence:10
Wisdom:14
Charisma:16
Etherial: +2 Dex +2 Wis -2 Str (not factored in)
Child: +2 Dex +2 Cha -2 Str (not factored in)
Blackened +2 Cha
Total: +4 Dex +4 Cha +2 Wis -4 Str
Abilities:
Starting Cash:$350
Innate:
Phasing
Languages: Druidic
Purchased:
Aura of Fear lv.2 ($100)
Flight ($50)
Memory Thief lv.2 ($50)
Shapeshift lv.1 ($50)
Sonic Pitch ($50)
Misdirection ($50)
Weapon(s):
Claws (in wraith form), otherwise none
Transportation:
His phasing ability
Disposition to the Law:
Chaotic
Alignment:
Neutral/Evil (depending on the day)
Phobias:
Eisoptrophobia (fear of his reflection in mirrors)
Obsession:
Purging (killing), Stalking
Vice:
Envy
Virtue:
Humility
Background:
Ever since the young Etherial could remember, he spent his time helping his parents in guiding the souls of the dead to Varius' Hall. Repetition however good for a child proved to eventually get boring. Thus, the neonate decided to branch out his exploration and go about soul guiding on his own.
It was here he discovered his first dying body, that of a young mortal who had yet to fully let death claim them. Not fully understanding what was going on, the young specter knelt by the suffering individual-- watching as blood seeped into a crimson pool around his feet. He touched it, surprised at the warmth and then reached down to poke at the injures the mortal had clearly fascinated by them all. A scream of protest escaped from the dying's lungs. The child's outburst had drawn the attention of other unwelcoming spirits; the boy placed a hand over the other's mouth and nose. "Shh, they'll find us" he whispered. Not knowing he had suffocated the victim, their skin blueish purple he removed his hands after the danger had passed, and then noted a group of slightly older mortals showing up wanting to see what was going on. With a broad smile, the naïve specter asked,"I found your friend, I think. He is sick. Do you want play with me? We can take it slower for--". The long stare from the preteens finally got to him as he looked down to see the wounded dead, and it took the young boy a while to realize that they weren't happy with him.
He vaguely recalls how he escaped that situation. One of his parents certainly gave him a lecture; from then on he made it his goal to bring as many souls to Varius as he could in order to at first correct himself in the eyes of his parents. But as the deaths continued, the specter felt they weren't enough, that his job as a soul guider was going too slowly.
On top of that he watched the world turn and the people outside the realm of Varius' Hall enjoying everything else life had...and that made him jealous. That was when the killings started. Slowly at first, a rich man here, his wife there. Whole families slowly destroyed over time. The neonate felt the process needed to be sped up. He discovered how many busy places were open to adults at night, and learned how to alter his form into that of a grown human male. Clusters of people were brutally murdered. His rampage went from bars to strip clubs and everything in between. By the time he returned home, he watched his family leaving. He called after them but they continued on, and the boy started weeping deep in his chest a mournful sound. His skin gave way to black flesh, sliver claws bursting from his hands. A long matching tattered hooded robe covered his new form, shrouding his face in a pitch black veil.
The title, Shadow, (different from his real name) was then given to him--to signify to all other Etherials that he was a failure (to Rhaego), a being who could have become something. He still occasionally weeps a dreadful song when on his hunt for more victims, lost between trying to regain his gods' good graces, and experiencing a life he never had among the mortals.
It was here he discovered his first dying body, that of a young mortal who had yet to fully let death claim them. Not fully understanding what was going on, the young specter knelt by the suffering individual-- watching as blood seeped into a crimson pool around his feet. He touched it, surprised at the warmth and then reached down to poke at the injures the mortal had clearly fascinated by them all. A scream of protest escaped from the dying's lungs. The child's outburst had drawn the attention of other unwelcoming spirits; the boy placed a hand over the other's mouth and nose. "Shh, they'll find us" he whispered. Not knowing he had suffocated the victim, their skin blueish purple he removed his hands after the danger had passed, and then noted a group of slightly older mortals showing up wanting to see what was going on. With a broad smile, the naïve specter asked,"I found your friend, I think. He is sick. Do you want play with me? We can take it slower for--". The long stare from the preteens finally got to him as he looked down to see the wounded dead, and it took the young boy a while to realize that they weren't happy with him.
He vaguely recalls how he escaped that situation. One of his parents certainly gave him a lecture; from then on he made it his goal to bring as many souls to Varius as he could in order to at first correct himself in the eyes of his parents. But as the deaths continued, the specter felt they weren't enough, that his job as a soul guider was going too slowly.
On top of that he watched the world turn and the people outside the realm of Varius' Hall enjoying everything else life had...and that made him jealous. That was when the killings started. Slowly at first, a rich man here, his wife there. Whole families slowly destroyed over time. The neonate felt the process needed to be sped up. He discovered how many busy places were open to adults at night, and learned how to alter his form into that of a grown human male. Clusters of people were brutally murdered. His rampage went from bars to strip clubs and everything in between. By the time he returned home, he watched his family leaving. He called after them but they continued on, and the boy started weeping deep in his chest a mournful sound. His skin gave way to black flesh, sliver claws bursting from his hands. A long matching tattered hooded robe covered his new form, shrouding his face in a pitch black veil.
The title, Shadow, (different from his real name) was then given to him--to signify to all other Etherials that he was a failure (to Rhaego), a being who could have become something. He still occasionally weeps a dreadful song when on his hunt for more victims, lost between trying to regain his gods' good graces, and experiencing a life he never had among the mortals.
Zodiac Sign:
Leo
Do you have what the vamps like?:
AB+
Shadow worships Rhaego and Varius.