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| Ignotus' Characters; Done for now | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 3 2009, 07:04 PM (34 Views) | |
| Ignotus | Nov 3 2009, 07:04 PM Post #1 |
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Name: Siegnir D'Sivis - Nick Name: [Optional] Sieg? Age: 120 (Chronologically, though his apparent age is somewhere along his early 20's) Birthday: April the 14 Race: Esoinne Vampire Sex: Male Occupation: Vagabond Job Class: Spirit Mage Much like how energy is object of work for Black and White Mages, 'essence' is the fabric which a Spirit Mage Weaves. They are living embodiments of the void and the naught, their touch saps living things of their strength and adds to their own. When a Spirit Mage attacks, he does not merely hope to damage his foe, but to take some of their strength with each blow, until they've been dessicated into dead husks of their former selves. This comes at a price for the Mage, as their strength can never be their own, they may only take from others, and whatever effect comes to them is still a temporary thing. Furthermore, they're plagued with a hunger that they can never satisfy (which is perfect for vampires really). Because they represent the 'absence' of mana, rather than the manifestation of its power, Spirit spells tend towards elements such as ice, air, and most importantly darkness. 'Buffing' works by drawing upon the Magus' essence pool and converting the essence (temporarily) into fructifying energy, thus giving the Magus a semblance of life, strengthening his body (or even mending it). However the trade-off is that they're unable to benefit from the effects of White Magic, nor does their body recover from harm by resting. Conventional medicine also has no effect upon them either, forcing them to feed. Appearance: Hair: Long, it falls to around his waist and is merely let hang to his sides, it's colored jet-black. He doesn't wear it in any particular manner, disheveled one would say is his 'cut'. He takes care not to let his bangs fall before his eyes, he finds not being able to see to be an annoyance. Two long strands at the forefront are braided. Eyes: Slender and almond-shaped, with vivid irises colored crimson, they're mottled with specks of amber. Build: Lithe, limber, lanky Voice: Baritone, yet grave and somnolent he seems to always be in thought Height: 5' 10" Weight: 120 lb Clothing: General: I guess we should start with his face, it's heart shaped, with well-rounded features save for his chin which is pointed, he has an overbite, with his lips appearing as small lines that merely delimitate his mouth from his lips; his cheek bones seem to vanish into the shape of his face, his ears are lobeless and are usually hidden underneath his hair. He sports a Greek-nose (meaning really straight) that ends in a turn-up nose with small slit-like nostrils adorning the nares. His eyes provide most for his expression and seem to be fixed in an expression best described as in 'vigil', mediating between the world in his thoughts and that which surrounds him. A slender neck follows into a longilineal torso, with no apparent muscle build, in his back towards his right hip the word 'sentientia' is written in gothic lettering as a sort of ambigram. His arms stretch fairly below his waist, lending to his lanky appearance, they are well-built and strong as are his legs. His legs are long and slender, appearing stork-like to an extent, they are gifted with the ability to vault and jump to one's wish, sadly it seems that all the running in the world will not help him find what he seeks. There is an additional marking upon his body, a magic circle drawn upon his shoulder that travels down to his arm, it represents the covenant between he and Hashmal. Likes, Dislikes, Fears Hobbies, and Aspirations: - Likes: Reading, desserts & sweets of all kinds, a little quiet time for himself, curling up with a nice blanket on cold days, walking beneath the rain, the feeling of wet sand between his toes - Dislikes: Hot weather, overly spicy food, crowded places, noise, and the words 'fruit of thy loins', merely hearing the expression makes him shudder - Fears: Sunlight, fire, Final Death - Hobbies: Traveling, Cooking (though his only means of sustainment have changed) - Aspirations: Currently none, and the realization of this drives him to further his 'art' Personality: Somber, and somewhat dark. He wasn't always like this however, and it is well hidden under a veneer of altruism. The realization that nothing awaits him after death, is a dread with which he's dueled for countless nights; the mere idea that he's reduced to some sort of predator also langors on him, making him feel as though he's something less than human, all of these fears are well maintained behind a persona that acts as a sort of damper to the inner conflicts that stem from his very existence. He appears to others as warm, and to a certain point endearing, doting upon others; altruistic and with a generally positive view of the world. He expresses a philosophy of philantropy in a world that seems more populated by nihilists and stresses the point that a sort of brotherhood exists among all men; whether or not they choose to accept this is beyond him, however he's sure they all come to realize it sooner or later. Honor-bound, he would never dare go back on his word. He thinks it to be one of the last remaining vestiges of his past life, thus he enforces it with a zeal that borders on the brink of insanity. In a way believing that the disparate races of the world can be united under the single ideal of fraternity. He is fiercely loyal, and unwilling to leave comrades behind, paying penance for any task failed. In a way he thinks himself a living example of the weakness that exists within the heart of all men, and thus has tasked himself with preventing others from seeking this path. He follows his convictions truthfully and completely, rarely stopping himself from overcome some obstacle in his path (unless the lives of others are at stake). He's proper and well-spoken (often to the detriment of others), even to those who are beneath contempt, the realization of his longevity and the near infinite amount of time that is to follow, prevents him from bearing a grudge (who wants to spend immortality being so bitter all the time?), though he's quick to drop this should another person take advantage of his demeanor. All of this acts as a sort of mask to conceal his inner nature, as a sort of elaborate paradigm to confuse himself into enjoying this unlife of his, even if it is the death of his own humanity. History: Not much is known to him about the past, before his embrace. It comes to him in brief flashes, he sees himself in the eyes of children who've been deprived of childhood, and in the face of every young and aspiring mage that seeks to comprehend the complex forces behind one's spells, in the eyes of an old man as he faces his own death, and in the eyes of others of his kind. Strangely these things all seem to bring but modest amounts of only the faintest memories, but it's unknown to him if they stem from any associated event in his life, or if he's merely piecing his life back from memories that aren't his own. In truth, like any living being he was born, raised and then eventually let alone to wander the world, to find his own path or failing that... to make his own. He'd always been interested in magic and the thaumaturgical arts, and so without hesitation he enrolled, looking for a master to apprentice him. Diligently he worked to master theory, and eventually moved on to more complicated things, such as spell-casting. Alas, what fate had in store for him would never allow him to actually apply the knowledge which he'd accrued. Unfortunately he was born with no magical aptitude, unable to command even the most basic of energies, he was inept. Born without a natural link to the world, a clod, an aberration, for even the least magical of beings were capable of tapping into the powers of mana if even unknowingly. No, what he represented was the death of mana, a void that it could not touch. For some reason he was 'removed' from its flow, and unable to feel its all pervading touch. At the realization of this, he could do little else but weep for his dreams were taken from him since before their very conception. For years now, he'd dedicated himself to be a student of mana, and it had turned out to be all for naught. However for all he told himself he could not simply give it up. Within him still existed a fervent desire to apprehend all learning, become one with this unifying force and eventually manage to control it, if fate had planned otherwise for him he'd have none of it. Perhaps it was this spark that turned him towards 'other' sources of power, what followed would forever change the way he viewed the world. Scouring Zelphar he looked for ancient centers of learning,. their secrets to be unearthed by he. Looking towards the lore of ages, he sought something that could allow him this gift. He experimented with spell-binding, inscribing upon his flesh several sortileges, hoping that it'd allow him a small semblance of magic, however it was all for naught, he hadn't the raw power to bring his manifestations unto the physical world. Eventually his search lead him towards path and ritual magic, a type of magic that needn't require any magical talent and locked within he could find the power he sought. Studying runes and ancient circle, he came upon the ritae that could summon the Lucavi, spirits of heatless fire that could allegedly grant any wish. Preparing for the rite he found he needed an offering as well as the name of the one he would call, the sacrifice he'd already found, and it would cost him dearly for the years to come. The awaited night came when he scribed his magic-circle upon the ground, its complex and esoteric designs alien to all eyes but his own, he chanted the name of the one who would answer him, Hashmal. Nearing the dawn of the next day, he noticed as the air began to charge, hushing the life out of the flames that lit his darkened quarters, as the creature emerged from the naught. Its stern gaze eyed him from the midst of the room, as his boisterous voice filled Sieg's head. It boomed, demanding that an explanation be given to his summoning. Explaining his situation, the creature wizened its gaze to the nature of the pact and granted Sieg's wish, the catch? He'd offer his immortal soul in exchange. Drawing upon Sieg's flesh their covenant, the arrangement transformed him into the creature he is now, a vampire. A creature whom without an essence of its own, would have to consume that of others to subsist. Drawing from the power of the blood, he was able to empower his own spells, giving him exactly what he'd wished for, at the expense of his very being. All was not gloomy however, and for a time he delighted in this new existence, however lately he finds the taciturnity of his unlife unbearable. Seeking companionship and other mysteries to unravel is all that keeps him on the edge of sanity now, all that keeps him from walking into the proverbial light and consume himself. |
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4:21 PM Dec 4
