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Nicholas

500 HP - 6/6




Name: Nicholas

Age: 29

Physical description:
At 6'2'', Nicholas is neither a giant nor a mouse, a man of dark brown hair that is reaching out for his shoulders and is in dire need of a proper cut. His face is always covered with stubbles that hide the tiny cuts and scrapes a life by the sword comes with, making him appear more youthful and soft than he truly is. His dark brown eyes usually look attentive and friendly, adding to an impression that stands in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance and experience.

Nicholas' body is toned and muscular, a man in the form of his life, strong and fit for any challenge, or so he likes to make people think. Unfortunately, it is also covered with scars both small and large and his armor and clothes cover one that stands out among them all.

Birthplace: Sorei, Eteria

Magic User: Yes

Armor: Light



Stamina Rating: 6/6

Weapon(s): A bastard sword and a short sword.

Personality:
Nicholas is generally a friendly person who likes to crack jokes at his own expense and that of others, flirt and just generally keep the atmosphere light, sometimes making him appear careless and haughty; however, this impression can be deceptive. He is a good liar who tends to keep his intentions in the dark and doesn't feel comfortable confiding in somebody he doesn't know well, playing the role of the loudmouth to keep people at a certain distance and make them underestimate him.

But when action is called for, the deception ends. Nicholas faces threats head-on and keeps his cool and focus in most situations thanks to years of serving in a military of sorts and working as a mercenary. He defends those he is loyal to with reckless abandon, to the point where he values their life more than his own.

History:
Nicholas was an orphan, a nobody on the streets of Sorei who had to learn very soon that the orphanages were ill-equipped to deal with the sheer numbers of children like him. Times were particularly hard and without fending for himself and bringing home something of value, you usually didn't eat, which meant that you had to be either a good beggar or a good pickpocket. Nicholas became both.

But it wasn't until he joined the military that he actually began to shine. Unlike those who were taken from families, Nicholas had nobody to miss during long nights and had known nothing but hardship before this one; to him, it was a step up, learning how to fight and not having to worry about food as much. He showed talent for fighting with the sword early on, excelling both two-handed and with a shield to aid him; his skill earned him respect from those of his comrades who knew the value of honor or at least pretended to be, but although he had many friends or people he would have described as such, none were as close to his heart as Jessabelle and her sisters.

Isabelle was forced to join almost at the same time as him and they quickly came to like each other; through her, he met Jessabelle, her sisters and parents who treated him as cordially as could possibly be expected in these dark times. As others joined, he helped them, along with the other sisters, to suffer through the worst of it and come out on the other side relatively unscathed. As years passed and they grew up, Nicholas and Isabelle started a relationship and eventually got engaged, but it wasn't meant to last: Shortly after their parents died, he broke the engagement with little explanation and left everything behind.

From then on, he was on the road, living from mercenary work and the occasional spell, traveling and working with many different groups. He wandered from settlement to settlement in Eteria, Scion, and finally Azra. Whether he was looking for a purpose, work, or something else... He really couldn't tell anymore.

Other relevant information:
His left arm (his shield arm) is weaker than his right one and occasionally tremors run through it.
When he removes the glove on his right, one can see a silver ring on his fourth finger.
Other than his combat equipment, he has a backpack with food, water and what few belongings he has.
He has a keen interest in the world before the Catastrophe and reads everything he comes across, no matter how unreliable it is. As a result, he knows some things about ancient history, although not all of what he claims is necessarily true and somtimes, it is hard to tell where his acquired knowledge ends and his own jokes begin.
- Nicholas is a fairly talented pickpocket. -

Motivation: Could it be that this man wants nothing but fame and fortune? Only time will tell...

Significant Relations: Jessabelle and her sisters - first and foremost Isabelle (Nicholas' ex-fiancée)
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Garden Gnome Definitely made in IKEA

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IcePezz

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Slamurai

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Rockette 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

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"And thus I had come to be, where I knew naught death or salvation; only d e s p a i r. And in the bedlam of our entwined agony;
I also came to know the meaning of Hell and in that malice I found what I had been [m i s s i n g]:
my violation and torture in the hands of my [f a t h e r]."

THEME.
Y t o n e
Twenty-Nine. Magic User. Obake, Goro. 8 / 8.


physical description.
She is often described as a doll, one made for a malicious purpose.

She illustrates harsh mutilation and temperament in the subjugated will of an initiate bound and twined in clusters of penance, sacrifice, and conditioning the colour of pale-silver agony and despair. Stagnation has afforded her with constant suffering that fissures across the alabaster countenance of her Oriental flavour, blemished and flawed by the cusp of ebonette paint that bleeds and smudges into falsified tears and pain down to her wide cheekbones. Habit and ritual has seen her body marred and twisted, laced with ink privileged of Alchemy and granted by dye undone to her by the penetration of blades from her Fathers. And she hastens this maiming of her body with silverite trimmings that puncture her skin in various locations, they are embedded circlets, hooks dug into the flesh, laced and meshed with chain, fringing the body in a display of horrific, and beautiful, torture. It is, or was, a rite of passage; a proven quality in the methods of many tortures and mutilation: flagged, burned, scarred, and violated under the pretenses of ritualistic function. Her body is barely her own, but sanctioned as a macabre temple.

Fine weaves of charcoal and the deepest of blacks descend to the small of her spine, disarrayed and twisted with trinkets and impaled with jeweled sticks of the same colour, dull and unpolished and left to tangle into the thickets of her hair. These are the blessings and gifts of her sires, every bit of finery lacing from lobe to tip in her ears also seen as a gift. Creases and folds found in the corner of her eyes the colour of jaded coins of silver, singular lids bruised and usually half-lidded in her perpetual stupor unless wreathed in pain and lust where the piercing gaze is aflame with magic poison. She is slight and almost fragile looking, delicacy that translates into fluidity and training that leaves silence in her footfalls, and misleading those into complacency when encountered with her likeness. Scarlet decorates the plume of her mouth in a single touch, as if placed by the lightest touch of a finger to bring a touch of rouge to her expressions. She does not boast a tall figure, staunched in height by genetic flavouring and others means to subdue and convince her body to be what others desired.


armour.

Armour is seen to impair her fluidity, as Ytone's figure and stature is not befitting to be donned in chain, plates, or even cured leather embedded with steels and studs to soften blows. Instead, the Gaki have garbed her in dark, browns leathers of a harsh hide that are dulled with a grey-black undertone. To the touch, the thick drapes feel almost like skin, the membrane stitched through with ebony dyes, thick cords that cinch tight around the body. The leathery wardrobe consists of a simplistic design, a top that drapes over the upper portion of her body with wide, short sleeves and a wide collar that peaks up slightly high at the nape of her neck, the garment is sectioned off just at the ridge of her ribs, revealing the scarred plane of her mid-drift. The secondary potion of this leathery assemblage pools down from her hips in the style of robes, sheathing her legs in the thickness and dragging across past her feet embellished in the same amount of scars and leather. Wrappings of the hide cinch tight around numerous locations of her body, usually binding and entirely painful in their tight lacings.


weapons.

The Raksha Blade and her Tessen. — &&
Bequeathed with the epitaph of the previous Padmavati: Rakshara, the blade is a rare diagram of a double-edged alloy, elongated [almost as long as she is tall] into the traditional curvature of a Katana sword with an elaborate hilt and guard that is swathed in a crimson cloth. Each thread bare end of the fabric is interlaced with chimes and weights, fixating it over the ebony and silver laden sheath that is also used to secure the sword to her narrow-ink-riddle hip. In unison with the Raksha, a chain of steel can be attached to the hilt and spirals to the opposite end where her sister weapon, the Tessen, is interlaced. The Tessen is an iron fan, utilized in series of fluid, martial arts that seduce the fan's full potential in parrying blows and capable of puncturing flesh. The vast uses of the Raksha and Tessen are almost limitless, with the support of the chain, the bearer can reach lengths not achievable by short-arm alone.


magic.

The magic practiced under the Gaki pertain to complexity and pain in the private sanctuary of rituals that cripple, decimate, and foil the opposition. There are no whimsical titles to utter in their initiation, no monikers to label the practices under the pretenses of being blessed, powerful, or divine. Magic is a poison, not a wielding might of graceful light or redemption, it festers and boils: this is the power of destruction onto ones' self and their foes.

With webbings of blackened taint spiraling through the depths of her body, Ytone performs rituals of bleeding out the toxins in her body, issuing numerous, weeping lines that span the lengths of her arms and thighs; lacing scars around hips and shoulders every day and night when the magic becomes entirely too painful. The venom always remains, but the agony blindsides the after effects each time to dips into the weaves of mana infestation. The rituals given to her by the Padmavati see to the boiling of skin by touch, her hands weeping a magic taint that poisons and spurs the skin to rot and fester. The Gaki specialize in magic of the skin, their kisses and tongues literal bedlams for ruin.

While they are aware of the cancer that seeps through their pores and twists their forms, the practice still remains to be undone, and Ytone adheres to tradition and utilizes her magic in battle and rituals performed daily — sometimes using another individual in the process. The result always varies, but blood is often a conduit with the finer trimmings of flesh to seal it.


personality.

Her likeness is assumed of a harmless disposition, a soft spoken shell of femininity and habits that illustrate tales of profession. Such is the intention in her impression, to distract away from the cluster of silvery harm that whisper leagues of torture and self-infliction. In reality, Ytone's method of self and personality are psychological degrees of terrifying obsessions and addictions, extremes are achieved by pain, actions, and very little words. Her demented reflection is splintered and cemented with the belief of pragmatism and the lack of a morality compass in unison with this worship begets to a horrific practice towards other individuals. When Ytone speaks, it's in a whisper, a husky cadence that hisses and drags her phrases through shards of glass and bones. She desires no one, she needs naught but her methods of ritual performances and religious practices of pain, her sadistic natures blend seamlessly into her masochistic dependencies, whirring into a sadomasochism disposition that underlies the silence she prefers in the company of others.

Her blind devotion both hampers and protects her, the lack of tolerance for those that conflict with her beliefs literally carved into her mind, thus making her beyond leagues of difficulty to converse with or even be aside her. Her jaded, silver eyes seems to contain a plethora of secrets, whispers, and yearnings that are fogged over by the constant agony of her body and the judgement of the Gaki that have raised her to see only their ambition and truths. The world around them is nothing, it's a blasphemous blemish of depravity that must be purged by terror and torture. Power is desired, power is needed, and the desires of the selfish are foolish and incapable of being achieved; they are nothing. Anything is plausible, there is no wrong, there is only the uniform shades of black and grey that interchange through the world — everything is permitted.




history.

She was not given; she did not choose; she was taken.
Memories have long since been culled from her memorial of the mind, cleansed and purged and cauterizing the lengths of her past to fortify the hopeless will of one initiated into The Gaki. If such happiness and wealth of cheer existed in Obake, she cannot recall, for those taken by the Gaki know no origins or family, they only know their sires and the Padmavati: their matriarch, that is their unholy Mother. Surrounded by children much like her, Ytone was given her name by men and women donned in robes, just a singular utterance that would become their markers for the tombs; one could even call them mere titles and not names at all. As such, there has been many "Ytone's" that have passed through the rites of passage by the Gaki, but none have survived long enough to own the appellation. To be gifted her own name is considered an honour, a gift that is granted with the myriad of tools that she implements to harm herself to this day. She values them all with a near obsession; because it is all she knows.

However, beneath the beautiful tragedy, someone once existed. In Obake, there were few houses, but temples rather that spanned the small settlement from gate to gate, here they worshiped a pantheon of harvest and performed tasks governed by the phases of the moon. While Goro remained a desolate waste land and a reminder of their militia's arrogance, Obake survived by their small community and practices of chaste and religious methods. Oracle girls, maidens, lived in the main houses, and rumoured to be gifted foresight that made them blind in their later years. As such, it was magic that crawled through their pores, infected their sight, poisoned them should they dare look into the weaves of Fate. These tales reached the Padmavati, a woman who desired none else but virgins and pure souls and the Oracles of Obake were perfect for the endeavors that made her ruthless and cruel. Beautiful torment, a marvelous and malicious creature of a woman she was; twined in ink and eyes that bled; her followers hid their faces, only their eyes piercing through the gloom. Obake was seduced and wooed by the vast canyons of promises uttered by The Gaki, useless and empty, but deep and interchanging with their poisonous lies of retribution to cure Goro. We'll fix everything.

Ytone was among the Oracles, her divination not quite reaching the cusp that would begin the initial process of her prophecy, but there was a potential lain bare in the eyes that brimmed with defiance, an interwoven fire of fury if ever the Gaki saw such festering malice. They performed the only solution: to break her. Once the robes were shed and the true forms exposed, the residents taken from Obake were revealed the horrors of their mutilation: the scars, the burns, the piercings of metal that laced some from brow to feet, twined in endless links of chain and twisting skin to painful proportions. Each day, a new scar was lain, every hour, skin was peeled, and every minute was an eternity of suffering. Ytone was thrown into the pit of Nullification, a cavernous base of stone carved deep into the bedrock where Worms of Chyrn invaded the body to bring about the first stages of debasement. Three days: four nights.

A special fate was selected for this Ytone, plucked from the quivering mass of Oracles maidens still lost in the throes of the Worms; the Fathers of the Preta carved the first myriad of scars that would descend and whorl down her spine, the sigils of a cleansing, they said. Her mind fractured, broke, when those hands fell unto her. Splintered remains soon spread, falling into despair, locking down into one point of truth: that this was her Hell. The Preta conditioned their women in certain methods, the performances best remained a secret, for the fate and destiny of those chosen by the Preta was a twisted end indeed. Her body was being bred to become a temple to receive the blessing of a God, she would help bring about the children needed by the Padmavati; and she accepted such a curse. There was no glory, there was no specialty or divine selection, there was nothing but the pain, the terror, the sheer horrors that the Gaki did unto her, and even children. And Ytone willingly accepted this fate, the shell remains of her fury were fractured, and the shell countenance of a doll was left in place.

It was only by the ambition of the Padmavati that temporarily released Ytone from her shackles, burdened with the task of finding truth to the wealth and swell of rumours that had fallen ontp her ears. With eyes twinkling with power and brutality, she commanded that the secrets of immunity be found for her own glory and purpose, that Ytone was to find the beings likened to Gods and partake of their glory in the way she was originally crafted for. And should she come across individuals of particular grace, she was given the fall and chain to bring them back to Goro; to test their prowess and bring the Gaki's power to an even higher fruition. And with only her devotion and blindness of terror did Ytone journey to Armistice with the intention to fulfill the will of their Unholy Mother — for the thirst of the Gaki must be sated, no matter the cost.



motivation.

Her will, her heart and soul, are not her own. Ytone lacks personal motivation, and lives only to serve the purpose of the Gaki and the Padmavati that have instructed that she learn the methods of immunity and immortality by whichever means necessary.


significant relationships.

T H E G A K I

The Padmavati. —

The Unholy Mother that leads that Gaki as their matriarch. She's both ruthless and beautiful, her body laden with swirls of ink and metal, and her eyes dark like pools of slick oil that bleed against the harsh paleness of her features that have been painted in lines of white ink and black. She personally taught Ytone various rituals and leagues of magic to ensure her success in the endeavors of finding the secrets of immortality and immunity to their own magic. The Padmavati in this generation bears no name other than her rightly deserved title. Her methods are truly dark and twisted, depraved and sometimes described as utterly careless, but there is a harsh intelligence in her practice, painting her even more macabre than the rest of her followers.


The Preta. —
The Preta is a particular contingent of Fathers that select their women by means of power, grace, and appearance. They raised and conditioned Ytone into current self, using means whichever necessary of achievement to ensure her proper abilities. They're also responsible for teaching her means to use her blade and tessen, whilst the Padmavati taught her the means of magic.




other.

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