Dlayeth

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

His bio is a WIP.

Dlayeth's Character Repository

Name:
Alaisdair

Age:
His real age is unknown, but he knows he was born before the witch hunts of the 16th century. He appears to be in his late twenties.

Gender:
Male

Species:
Witch

Location:
Vlad’s Complex

Personality:
Alaisdair is a cautious person. He hates and fears humans. To his fellow supernaturals, he’s polite and good-natured. To humans he is cruel and cold.

Weapons:
He has a sword of iron.

Powers:
Wards
He is good at making barriers and wards to protect himself and others. He cannot use his wards offensively, except maybe as a battering ram centered around himself.
Sealing
He is capable of sealing the powers of others given enough time and supplies. Making seals for an ability requires a great deal of time. The stronger the power, the more complex the seal must be, and the more magic he must feed into the seal. Once a seal is placed, it must be maintained with a steady stream of magic. Sealing requires a great deal of preparation, and knowledge about what he must seal.
Magic-sensing
He can use his magic to "touch" incorporeal things. He can only use it to touch and study the immaterial.

Weaknesses:
Fire
He is terrified of it. He freezes up for a moment when he sees fire.

How you intend to use your humans you get:
Torture them, make them suffer.

Relationships:
None

Bio:
Alaisdair was born during the Medieval Inquisition. He and a group of his kind lived in a small village. For the sake of the towns and villages around, they did bone-mending, healing, weather-witching, and foreseeing to help warn the people in the area of coming disasters. For some reason, when the witch hunts rolled around, they thought they would be fine. They had never hurt anyone around them. They had only helped the villages and benefited them. They were grateful to the “white witches.” The white witches protected them, warned them of danger, and even worked the weather for them. Due to this, they always did well. At the very least, humans would protect their own interests, right?

Wrong.

At first, they were indeed protected. That only lasted a couple of months though. It’s surprising how fast beliefs can change. The witches, existing for centuries and centuries without any drastic changes, could not fathom such a fast change in beliefs. They never saw it coming.

Soldiers marched in. Accusations were flung. There was confusion. There was reasoning, followed by pleading. In the end, there was no hope. There never had been hope. They had been betrayed so easily by those they had cared for since generations ago.

Torture, confessions, sorrow and despair: it consumed them. Rage, hatred, pleas for mercy, all was naught in the face of the inevitable.

There were many shrieks and curses when the first one burned. Those they protected watched with impassive faces. No mercy, no regret in the frigid eyes of those they had cared for.

The witches attempted to escape, many died, but in the end, at least a few escaped with their lives. Even though they were broken, mutilated, haunted.

Alaisdair was spared the mutilation, because he looked like a child, though for humans, he was no longer one.

None of those who appeared to be adults had been unscarred. Tongues were split, fingers were missing, eyes had been burst with hot metal skewers, breasts had been tortured and mutilated until they were purple and black, delicate parts of both male and female anatomy were mangled, many women had been so abused they could no longer have children. Everyone bore the marks of the lash.

Those were nothing compared to the emotional and mental scars they bore. For Alaisdair, he had seen those he loved die. He had the image of flames consuming old Nan, a kindly old lady who had done nothing wrong. In his mind, he could see them burning, hear them screaming, smell the scorched scent of hair and flesh wreathed in smoke and flames. Alaisdair was plagued with nightmares. It was all he could do not to wake screaming.

Though they had escaped for the time being, they were fugitives in a strange world that had turned hostile. The witch-hunters continued to search for them, they would continue until the last died.

The witches could not go to towns or villages, because their scars marked them. They had to learn how to survive for themselves in the wilderness, despite being severely maimed and running for their lives. Of course, of those who escaped, few survived.

Alaisdair only had a relatively short time to learn magic, so the only magics he knew about were barriers. He had learned fire-starter magic, but the trauma of the event made him unable to utilize it. He learned a bit about sealing and traps.

It wasn’t long before he could only teach himself magic through trial and error. After all, those who could have taught him had died.

Alaisdair wandered the world now that he was alone. He saw the darkness of humanity. His home was not the only place hit hard by the witch hunts. Wherever he went, all he could see was misery and brutality. Perhaps he had forgotten how to see the beauty of the world. In his eyes, all had turned dark.

Along the way, he picked up new techniques, and honed the ones that he possessed.

Other:
He will never forget…
He will never forgive…
He will carry his hate and rage until he breathes…
No More.

He is a willing worker for Vlad. He's on board with anything that results in more human misery.

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

xAsunaWolfx said
No gonzo : | according the the CS Thread, custom is filled. Way filled.

That reminds me, I forgot to update the number of custom supernaturals, there are 20 of them.

Oh, and I think TheDoctor edited some of the info in the OOC first post as well. I only noticed that he had added increased regeneration to succubi.

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

Custom Supernatural

---

Name:
Alaisdair

Age:
His real age is unknown, but he knows he was born before the witch hunts of the 16th century. He appears to be in his late twenties.

Gender:
Male

Species:
Witch

Location:
Vlad’s Complex

Personality:
Alaisdair is a cautious person. He hates and fears humans. To his fellow supernaturals, he’s polite and good-natured. To humans he is cruel and cold.

Weapons:
None

Powers:
Wards
He is good at making barriers and wards to protect himself and others. He cannot use his wards offensively, except maybe as a battering ram centered around himself. At the same time, he's not very fit, and his speed/strength can't surpass that of a human. A fit person (probably a hunter) would also be able to dodge this "attack."
Sealing
He is capable of sealing the powers of others given enough time and supplies. Making seals for an ability requires a great deal of time. The stronger the power, the more complex the seal must be, and the more magic he must feed into the seal. Once a seal is placed, it must be maintained with a steady stream of magic. Sealing requires a great deal of preparation, and knowledge about what he must seal. To seal a power would require a set location to put them in and would take weeks. To set up an area seal/trap would take at least a day if the area wasn't prepared before.
Magic-sensing
He can use his magic to "touch" incorporeal things. He can only use it to touch and study the immaterial.

Weaknesses:
Fire
He is terrified of it. He freezes up for a moment when he sees fire. A candleflame makes him uncomfortable, sparks will make him flinch, and a bonfire will probably make him lose consciousness if he goes near it. A torch could very well cause a flashback. A flamethrower would reduce him to screaming and crawling away. He might be able to throw up weak barriers to protect him from the flames but it doesn't change the fact he'll be terrified and/or semi-conscious and trying to escape.
Smoke
Smoke itself will trigger flashbacks, he absolutely hates smoke. If there's a strong smoky smell in an area he will start to hyperventilate and try to flee. If he's left in the area long enough, he'll likely lose consciousness.
Scorched scent
A burnt smell especially that of a burning hair/skin, would cause him to have terrible flashbacks and possibly collapse.

His abilities are focused solely upon the three he mentioned above. What this means is that he does not have: increased regeneration, an ability to heal, any enhanced physical senses, strength, speed, agility, or stamina greater than a humans.

When he casts magic he must constantly feed his energy into his wards/seals otherwise they will fall apart. He does have access to ley-lines however, and it is possible for him to use certain mediums to make a lasting barrier/seal that requires a minimal amount of energy to upkeep it. With ley-lines he can gather up his energy faster. It is possible for him to store away energy. He is still bound to his physical stamina as well. Even if he has an abundance of magic power, he is still limited by his physical state and physical power. Magic requires some level of concentration to maintain.

How you intend to use your humans you get:
Torture them, make them suffer.

Relationships:
None

Bio:
Alaisdair was born during the Medieval Inquisition. He and a group of his kind lived in a small village. For the sake of the towns and villages around, they did bone-mending, healing, weather-witching, and foreseeing to help warn the people in the area of coming disasters. For some reason, when the witch hunts rolled around, they thought they would be fine. They had never hurt anyone around them. They had only helped the villages and benefited them. They were grateful to the “white witches.” The white witches protected them, warned them of danger, and even worked the weather for them. Due to this, they always did well. At the very least, humans would protect their own interests, right?

Wrong.

At first, they were indeed protected. That only lasted a couple of months though. It’s surprising how fast beliefs can change. The witches, existing for centuries and centuries without any drastic changes, could not fathom such a fast change in beliefs. They never saw it coming.

Soldiers marched in. Accusations were flung. There was confusion. There was reasoning, followed by pleading. In the end, there was no hope. There never had been hope. They had been betrayed so easily by those they had cared for since generations ago.

Torture, confessions, sorrow and despair: it consumed them. Rage, hatred, pleas for mercy, all was naught in the face of the inevitable.

There were many shrieks and curses when the first one burned. Those they protected watched with impassive faces. No mercy, no regret in the frigid eyes of those they had cared for.

The witches attempted to escape, many died, but in the end, at least a few escaped with their lives. Even though they were broken, mutilated, haunted.

Alaisdair was spared the mutilation, because he looked like a child, though for humans, he was no longer one.

None of those who appeared to be adults had been unscarred. Tongues were split, fingers were missing, eyes had been burst with hot metal skewers, breasts had been tortured and mutilated until they were purple and black, delicate parts of both male and female anatomy were mangled, many women had been so abused they could no longer have children. Everyone bore the marks of the lash.

Those were nothing compared to the emotional and mental scars they bore. For Alaisdair, he had seen those he loved die. He had the image of flames consuming old Nan, a kindly old lady who had done nothing wrong. In his mind, he could see them burning, hear them screaming, smell the scorched scent of hair and flesh wreathed in smoke and flames. Alaisdair was plagued with nightmares. It was all he could do not to wake screaming.

Though they had escaped for the time being, they were fugitives in a strange world that had turned hostile. The witch-hunters continued to search for them, they would continue until the last died.

The witches could not go to towns or villages, because their scars marked them. They had to learn how to survive for themselves in the wilderness, despite being severely maimed and running for their lives. Of course, of those who escaped, few survived.

Alaisdair only had a relatively short time to learn magic, so the only magics he knew about were barriers. He had learned fire-starter magic, but the trauma of the event made him unable to utilize it. He learned a bit about sealing and traps.

It wasn’t long before he could only teach himself magic through trial and error. After all, those who could have taught him had died.

Alaisdair wandered the world now that he was alone. He saw the darkness of humanity. His home was not the only place hit hard by the witch hunts. Wherever he went, all he could see was misery and brutality. Perhaps he had forgotten how to see the beauty of the world. In his eyes, all had turned dark.

Along the way, he picked up new techniques, and honed the ones that he possessed.

Other:
He will never forget…
He will never forgive…
He will carry his hate and rage until he breathes…
No More.

He is a willing worker for Vlad. He's on board with anything that results in more human misery.

[Beauty+Dating Tips Thread] So Valentine's Day is coming up...

eh...8/10. I ate cheesecake with strawberry and blackberry sauce.

I ate Italian cream cake or something like that. was pretty good. There was much cuddling, and I had my first gourmet burger, which was meh, but the onion rings were good.

Yeah... other than that, I mostly slept.

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

Mike the Bloodwolf said
Strangely enough, no. I like him in the past, he was one of those villains that had a likable personality

Is that so?

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

Mike the Bloodwolf said
I miss the manager

Though in the past, you probably hated him.

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

TheDoctor said
Let's just say every single time he has the potential to save his friend, come up with a brilliant plan, or get out of a dangerous situation, it just gets worse for him. I find it funny.

Oh? Really? Tell me more? I want to know. It sounds very interesting.

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

TheDoctor said
Everyone loves screwing over Rand, really he's had the worst time more than any of my characters.

Oh? How so?

Oh Waiter! They're Gone! (Supernatural RP)

Rand can curse mike to his deathbed.

I really pity Rand.

False kindness that kills.

If you can dirty your hands to spare someone future pain... isn't that a good thing? Instead you choose to turn your back because you'd rather not dirty your hands.

In the end, no one is spared, but at least your hands are clean, right?

Ah the world of black and white. I haven't been there since elementary school.