"Did somebody ring for a villainous villain? No? Well, I'm not hanging on to this psycho any longer than I have to, so here. He's your problem now." *Drops off the CS and runs like hell*
Name:
Drasinian, but also likes to go by what the people of London called him in 1888 . . . Jack the Ripper
Age:
Looks to be 25, is actually closer to 403
Gender:
Male
Personality:
Drasinian is a cruel, calculating psychopath with a mile wide sadistic streak and centuries of experience in the art of the kill. Born to be the perfect warrior, he's got guts and bravery by the gallons, willing and able to take on any foe, but is smart enough to know when it's time to retreat so he live to fight another day. He also has a very hunter like mentality, tending to pick his targets out weeks, sometimes even months in advance before making the strike, familiarizing himself with the way they move, their routine, everything about them. When he does move in for the kill, don't bother asking for mercy, for he has none to give. If anything, you should beg for a quick death, as he has a habit of taking his time cutting his victims apart, piece by piece, enjoying every second of their misery like it's the finest of wines.
He has no care for others, nor any need or want to interact with people, though he does so as part of his act to keep people from suspecting his true nature. He has little interest in understanding why people have a strange array of emotions, but he does like to pretend he has such things, and has grown quite good in his acting over the years, so as to amuse himself by toying with his prey. One of his favored methods of killing prey is to feign falling in love with them, and waiting until they're at their most vulnerable before ending them in the most painful and sickening of ways.
Abilities:
Jack's physical capabilities are much superior to that of any human, with his most enhanced characteristics being speed, reaction time, reflexes, and spatial awareness, making it hard to get the drop on him in most cases and hard to hit in others. Along with this is a capacity to use magic, though it's limited as a trade off for his other abilities, with his natural affinity being with Creation magic. To supplement this, he's skilled in the use of alchemy, using the materials of one thing and transmuting them to create another. He mostly uses this to create weapons on the fly and for tripping up his enemies by changing the terrain around him to foil their maneuverability and keep them on their toes.
Another thing that makes him very dangerous, however, is that Jack has something to better separate him from most Homnuculi. He's in possession of a magical trait, said to be similar to that of the person whose soul was used to create him. This was possible due to a mistake in the ritual that caused the energy from the soul to react bizarrely with the body it was being placed in. Whether this same defect also caused his unusual behavior and psychotic tendencies is a mystery to most. Either way, his magical trait is known to him a Dimension rift, and it allows him to create pocket dimension anywhere that follow him around at all times in a space just beyond our dimension. This allows him to store and call upon a number of items at will, as the size of the pockets is near endless, and his ability to summon from objects from them is near infinite as well.
While Jack can also enter these dimensions, it takes both time and more energy to allow a living being with a consciousness into the pocket dimensions, meaning that it something for when he wants to hide from others for a while or when he has no place to stay. While inside of a pocket dimension, he can move around the world inside of it and is able to view our current dimension, but it cost a decent amount of energy to do so, making it so that he generally stays in the same spot, If someone uses tracking magic on him while he's inside the other dimension, it will fail, but if they stick one on him before, they'll be able to find his current location easily enough, but will be unable to do anything about it unless he exits the pocket dimension.
Skills:
He was born with a knowledge of all the weapons around during his time, and is able how to use new ones with remarkable ease, no matter how complex it might be. His hand to hand is very strong, made even more so by his centuries of experience. He's an excellent tracker and hunter, gaining great patience and skill as he hunted one of the most difficult forms of prey: humans.
Equipment:
Along with a literal armory of weapons from his time on earth, kept in perfect condition by the environment of his pock dimensions, he also carries two special items on him for when it time to fight. One is a suit of armor that he has in a dimension around his person, enabling him to essential phase the suit onto him in an instant. This armor is infused with the soul of a strong demon and grants it's user increased durability and strength, though not by that much. It's most useful ability, however, is allowing him to analyze a mage and find out their affinity, known types of magic, and any possible magical trait they may have. This works very well with his secondary weapon, the Fang of Cerburus.
Whether or not it is actually made from the fang of the mythical hound doesn't matter, for it's ability is very powerful. The Fang can take on the affinity of another magus, albeit weakened and only if it could due applicable to a sword in the first place, upon drawing their blood. However, it doesn't just end there. If the Fang manages to kill a magus, the user can decide to absorb their soul into the blade, giving them the ability to not only take their affinity permanently, but allow him to cast spells of that affinity as if they were his own as long as he is holding the blade. There is a limit to how many souls the blade can hold, with the maximum being that of 3, and currently he has two. One being Lightening and the other, Life, which allows him to breathe life into objects, the amount of mana put in deciding the power and size of the construct created.
Brief Backstory;
Drasinian was created to be the perfect warrior, not to defend anything or make war, but just because the Magus who created him wanted to be credit with making a living weapon of unparalleled might, mightier than any thing alive. Drasinian started life like most homunculus, knowing their purpose in life and ready to serve it out. He did battle with many foes, beating them all with a mixture of skill and ferocity that few could match and none had beaten, But in these battles, he couldn't help but feel something was . . . missing. No matter how much he fought, no matter who he fought, he couldn't gain any joy from the reason of his existence. It was only when he first killed, the victim being a man who had decided to attack his master, that he felt something zip through him.
In that moment, something was set in motion that not even fate could stop.
In that moment, a monster had been born. Slowly at first, but with increasing frequency, he began to kill many people under the cover of night, able tog et away with it with ease as he and his monster were constantly on the move, the man being held by an intense feeling of wanderlust. However, the man was not dumb, and soon realized where the trail of spilled blood led. He confronted his creation, clad in his special armor with the blade that had been passed down through his family for generations. But alas, he fell in battle, no match for Drasinian even with the advantage of the armor and blade. And his death was not slow, the homunculus made sure of that. When his body was found some days later, it was hardly recognizable as human, so savagely had it been torn to shreds. Drasinain, sense then, has made his way across the world, killing many, many, many people, but never in a way that would draw undue suspicion. With his age came wisdom, and he became better and better at hiding his presence from the world.
The most public his killings ever got, however, is during his time in WhiteChapel where h employed with the action of sex for a short time, trying to see if it was for them and shelling out the coin for prostates so that he could try it easy enough with out unneed complications. It bored him rather quickly, so he began to take his boredom out on the local population of whores. Before he knew it, however, he was famous, as he'd gotten sloppy with his killings. And yet, he found himself greatly entertained by the events and the name that he was given by the populace as he continued his spree. He quit after at time, not wanting to get caught for such a blunder, but his five minutes of fame, and life long infamy made it so that it was his favorite string of murders ever and he still tends to go by ack more often than the name he was given at creation. It fits him better anyway, as far as he's concerned.