Lucian

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

Essentially Superman was the first superhero, but now he's one of the last.

@AndyC

That's super cool. Can't wait to read it.

The Worldwalker

@Solaris
Well, in fairness, so did this person and this person. Obviously it's up to the GM, I'm just pointing out what's already happened in the thread.

@Roosan

Solaris has been quite active in the Discord chat since I started working on my character, so I assume they're an exception, as I was. Can't speak for Lyla though.

I will say it must be quite flattering (if not overwhelming) to have so much interest hahah

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

Oh man, Lexcorp. Here we go.

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

Champion Of The Gods

---

The Rock of Eternity. 1938

---

Billy Batson was terrified. He'd been trotting gaily down Deacon Avenue, when suddenly there came a terrible boom, and a flash of light, and now he was in this... castle, was it? He couldn't tell, but he was sure he didn't know of any place like this in Fawcett City. He was in a great, lengthy torchlit hallway. Some ways ahead, statues lined either side of the hallway's walls and it thinned out. He could hear thunder outside the building, but inside it was quiet as the grave, aside from the crackling of several torches on the wall. Billy stepped forward gingerly, scanning the stone walls for a door of some sort. So far, he hadn't seen any. Creeping down the hallway at a tentative pace, he headed toward the place where the hall thinned. It seemed right, and he could make out a light at the end of the tunnel.

As he entered the hallway, his cautious tip-toeing gave way to an awed stumble as he took in the statues on either side of him. To his left, seven statues, terrible to behold sneered down at him, their monstrous visages causing a chill to run up his spine. To his right, however, six heroic and godly figures stood proud and tall, some smiling benevolently, and one even winking cleverly down at him. What was this place, to have such unusual and exotic decorations? Without warning, the extensively long hallway began to contract, shortening from about two-thousand feet to somewhere between twenty and thirty from end-to-end. The change happened so suddenly and swiftly that Billy didn't have time to feel nauseous, instead he just gaped, wide-eyed at the room on the other side of the hall, which was now much more in focus than it had been before. The room was massive and round, with a domed ceiling so large and high up that Billy couldn't even guess how big it was. The middle of the room was taken up by what looked like a miniature (but still enormous) mountain, above which a thundercloud hovered, occasionally zapping the peak of the mountain with lightning. Billy stepped into the room, eyes wide, attempting to take in the scale of it all.

"Gosh. Is this a new high-tech museum or did I fall over and hit my head?" Billy pondered aloud as he walked further into the huge chamber.

"Neither, William Batson. You are in the Sanctuary of the Rock of Eternity. The font of the power of the Gods, source of strength for their chosen champion."

The booming voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, reverberating and echoing throughout the cavernous chamber, but Billy could see its point of origin, though he could've sworn nothing had been there before. Situated halfway between the entrance to the hall he'd come from, and the mountain in the center of the room, was a large and ancient looking throne of stone, gilded in golden lightning-bolts and heroic imagery. An old man sat on the throne, white haired and long-bearded, and robed elegantly with a high collared cape to round out his deep purple ensemble. A golden bolt of lightning stood out on the chest of the man's robes. In some remote part of his mind, Billy thought of Merlin from King Arthur.

"Uhm... You know my name, sir?" Billy asked, speaking up to cover the distance between them, though that was apparently unnecessary, given the old man had heard his quiet mumbling earlier. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up now.

"I know many things, William. Forgive me for keeping you at a disadvantage, I am the Wizard Shazam."

As the Wizard spoke that final word, the storm-cloud above the mountain in the center of the room rumbled violently, spewing lightning in several directions, striking the walls of the room in great, bright arcs. The Wizard turned one hand toward the ceiling, and suddenly the lightning from the cloud redirected itself into the old man's open palm. Billy was worried for the man's safety for a moment, but was too awestruck to hold the thought for long, and the Wizard clearly wasn't harmed. After a few moments of the brief demonstration, the rumbling subsided and the old man lowered his hand back to the arm of the throne.

"Golly! You're like a living Tesla Coil!" Billy exclaimed.

"No, William. I offer much more than a brief light show. You are here for a reason. You have been chosen to receive the power of the gods. Should you accept this responsibility, you will become a force for justice and righteousness, a champion of magic, Earth's mightiest mortal."

"Err, mister Shazam, sir? I'm just a kid from Fawcett city. There's nothing special about me. You must have the wrong guy, I- I can't be-" Billy stammered in disbelief, but the Wizard didn't let him finish the thought,


"The Gods do not make mistakes, William. You have been chosen because, despite the adversity you have faced living without family in a hard city, your heart remains good and pure. You are a hero within, what I offer is the power to become that hero on the outside as well." The Wizard rested his chin on his right fist casually, as if this conversation were rather ordinary, but Billy felt like he had wandered into a dream or a fairy-tale. Stuff like this just didn't happen. Did it?

"This world will need you in the coming years. Do you accept, William? Will you be my force for good? Will you become the Champion of the Gods?" The Wizard asked, leaning forward in the stone throne and peering at the boy intently.

---

"Had I known, would I still have said yes? I honestly can't say for sure. I suppose I would, I think I've made a difference."

---

"Then step forward, William Batson. Raise your hands to the heavens, and call my name!" The Wizard said, the storm cloud above him rumbled in anticipation of the transference of power to come.

Billy did as he was told, the whole thing felt like a ritual, a ceremony, everything had a place and a purpose, including him. He didn't want to ruin it. He took one step forward,

S

For the Wisdom of Solomon

Another step forward, the hair on his head and the back of his neck was stiff, standing on end. A chill ran down his spine,

H

For the strength of Hercules

He raised his hand, and so did the Wizard, the thunder roared in excitement, the room shook at it's foundations now

A

For the stamina of Atlas

Though the room shook, Billy couldn't feel it. His feet weren't touching the floor. The air crackled with lightning, electricity all around him. He was too terrified to speak the name, though he knew he had to.

Z

For the power of Zeus

The Wizard was saying something, but Billy couldn't hear him over the deafening crash of the thunder, and the crackling and popping of the lightning. The room had visibly darkened, the torches on the walls grew dim. Billy realized faintly that the Wizard was chanting something, not talking. He knew he had to say the word, but he was too astounded by the spectacle of it all to make his mouth move.

A

For the courage of Achiles

The Wizard was looking at him, waiting for him. The Gods themselves were waiting for him to say the word. Abruptly, his mouth opened wide and he threw back his head to shout the word, though his throat felt dry.

M

For the speed of Mercury

---

Shazam! The boy called, and his voice echoed throughout the chamber, magically amplified to carry over the roar of thunder and the zapping of lightning.

The electricity that had been crackling around him now moved through him, into him. It was changing him, he realized distantly. The gooseflesh on his arms receded, and a new strength and confidence flowed through him, along with a new understanding of the spell the Wizard had just cast, the bond they now shared. The rumbling quieted, and it seemed to Billy that his body had soaked up all of the ambient power in the room, as well as much of the power in the Wizard himself. As he looked to the old man, the Wizard slumped back down into his throne, and nearly toppled forward.

Billy was there in an instant, however, and he caught the old man. He wasn't shocked by the swiftness of his movements, he knew he had Mercury to thank for them. He understood so much now.

"Are you alright, Shazam?" He asked the Wizard, his voice now considerably deeper than it had been, the voice of a young man, just in his prime, rather than that of a boy of nine. This too, he took in without surprise, because now he understood.

"That name belongs to you now, William. Let it be your shield against prying eyes, and ears with ill-intent. None should know your true identity but those you trust most deeply. The world at large cannot know of The Rock of Eternity either. We have enemies beyond counting, and should the sanctity of this place be destroyed, your powers would fall with it." The Wizard sounded weak, and truly old now, but he put a bony hand on Billy's (now quite broad) shoulder, "Stay here for awhile, William. Learn your new abilities, become accustomed to your body, but don't take too long. The world stands on the brink, and you will be needed soon. When you are ready, you will know where to go. Now, I must rest..." The Wizard trailed off and collapsed back into his throne, snoring loudly and rather comically.

---

The Skies Above London. September 7. 1940

---

The Earth's Mightiest Mortal floated alone high above the city, and though his vision was mostly obstructed by clouds, he could hear the engines of the bombers, and the scurrying of the soon-to-be defenders below, readying themselves for the coming storm. Oh, there would be a storm alright, and he, not the planes, would be bringing the thunder.

"By the Power of Zeus, and the Speed of Mercury." He whispered in quiet deference to the deities whose aid he would most need in the coming battle. As the first of the bombers came into view, the skies gradually grew dark as the mighty Shazam focused his many magical blessings, and at the first roar of thunder, he flew forward toward the oncoming planes as if shot from a cannon. The fighters swarmed in response, apparently taking note of him, but in the skies he was far more maneuverable, zipping through their defensive lines, taking a bullet here or there, but not enough to cause him any true harm. That would require larger ordinance, he knew from his training with the Wizard. The civilians below, however, didn't have the Endurance of Atlas. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop all of the bombs from falling on the city. Still, if he could save even one innocent life...

He reached the nearest bomber (the fighters had to disengage or risk shooting down their own now) and alighted menacingly on the plane just outside the cockpit. The pilot inside stared up at him, wide-eyed, and reached for a holstered pistol at his hip. Shazam shot his arm through the glass of the cockpit and grabbed the man's arm, pulling it easily away from the firearm and pinning it above his head. Pausing for a moment to search the inner pool of knowledge granted by Solomon's wisdom, Shazam looked briefly for the translation of the words get a parachute and jump. Though he never intended to kill the man, the obvious threat of the mystical titan spurred the pilot into action.

"Holen Sie sich einen Fallschirm und springt!" Shazam shouted at the man in perfect German. The man did as he was told, and soon the others followed. The bomber had to be disposed of before it could do any damage. Shazam took flight again, zipping around gracefully to the underside of the aircraft, and arcing it upwards further into the sky. As soon as he was high enough that he was sure the explosions wouldn't harm the city below, he called down the lightning.

"Shazam!" He roared to the heavens, and the boom of mystical thunder echoed in answer, as the lightning of the gods shot down to meet him. The bolt was interrupted by the plane he was holding, and the explosives within detonated all at once in a massive fiery explosion in the sky. He managed to clear the blast radius- barely- before any of the fire could reach him. He looked back to the encroaching wave of enemy aircraft, and his heart sunk just a little. The bombs were already falling, and he couldn't stop the destruction. Nevertheless, had had no choice but to fight on.

"One at a time." He muttered under his breath, then shot toward the next bomber.

The Worldwalker

Valter

Valter Reinhardt

Character Summary

Name: Valter Aleksandr Reinhardt
Aliases: Val, Thief of Blood, Kinslayer, Exile, King of Traitors, Last Son of Reinhardt
Titles: King (Deposed)
Age: 117
Place of Origin: Castle Reinhardt
Gender: Male

Physical Attributes

Build: Supernaturally lean and toned due to his vampiric nature.
Eyes: Golden Yellow
Hair: Pale Silver
Skin Tone: Pallid
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None (Body is incapable of holding a permanent alteration)
Day To Day Attire: Valter doesn't change out of his adventuring attire much, as his body doesn't secrete sweat or wastes, which removes the need to clean soiled clothing. However, on formal occasions, he wears stiff, high-collared dress-clothes. These clothes are usually coal black, and adorned with scarlet lace and golden embroidery.
Strengths: Intelligent, Experienced, Studious
Weaknesses: Arrogant, Self-Assured, Particularly weak to fire or intense heat

Psychological Attributes

Contemplative * Eloquent * Noble * Proud * Unflappable

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Outwardly, Valter is every inch the poised noble. He is calm, collected, and difficult to disturb. However, he is a very inwardly-reflective individual, often pondering the differences between himself and others, and frequently searching for ways to better himself. Occasionally, when roused to action, Valter can be considered cold and callous, dispatching death and judgement with a confidence that can only be possessed by someone who truly believes he has the right to do so.

This may lead some to believe that Valter is a soulless, cold machine who merely wears the guise of a Noble Aristocrat, but those who grow to know him closely, learn that he is a deeply contemplative and passionate person, and can be fiercely loyal when emotionally attached, though he hasn't been so attached to someone since his old mentor's death.
Habits: Tongues his fangs when annoyed, often adjusts his cuffs (or bracers, depending on what he's wearing) when nervous. Smirks frequently, and tends to raise his left eyebrow in incredulity or suspicion.
Hobbies: Meditation, Self-reflection, Magical Study, Anatomical Study
Fears: Succumbing to hedonism and addiction, Burning (A common fear among his kind, as they are particularly susceptible,) Lifelong Imprisonment
Likes: Verbosity, Books, Magic, Ettiquette, Respect, Gracefulness, Dedication to a craft, Demonstrations of personal skill, Self-reflection, Passion, Self-improvement
Dislikes: Hedonism, Barbarism, Self-indulgence, Overconfidence, Stubbornness, Ignorance, Stupidity, Rudeness, Acrimony

Skills

• Sanguimancy (Master): The ability to use one's own blood as a weapon or tool by manipulating its physical properties via magic. This can be used to a number of effects, including, but not limited to, changing the density, solidity, strength, temperature, and hardness of the mage's blood. Sanguimancy can be used with the blood of another, but the person must willingly allow the manipulation of their lifeblood by the practitioner. Also, to interact with someone's blood, an open wound upon the target (be it another, or onesself) must be present, otherwise a direct connection to the blood cannot be established.
• Swordsmanship (Journeyman): Though not his favoured form of attack, Valter must sometimes fall back on the use of his blade, whether to open up a wound for his Sanguimancy, to dispatch bloodless enemies, or to compensate if his personal reserves of blood are too low to conjure anything. He has had a very long time to perfect his form, though he is not among the masters, as he prefers a less martial approach to combat. As such, most of his time has been spent perfecting his grasp of the mystical arts, rather than swordplay.
• Sorcery (Expert): Aside from Sanguimancy, Valter is gifted in the study of many forms of magic, and has a natural nack for the arcane. He is constantly searching for new spells and rituals, and absorbs mystical knowledge and lore ravenously. Since his exile, he has traveled far and wide, and learned much in the way of magic.
• Political Strategy (Journeyman): Having grown up in a world ruled by a decadent aristocracy, Valter is skilled at playing the game. Though he certainly hasn't made a career of it, he can manuever at court well enough, whether it be clever deception, subtle espionage, dissemination of gossip, etc.
• Anatomical Expertise (Expert): Valter has taken an uncommon interest in not only his own anatomy, but that of mortal or "lesser" races as well. As such, he has a good understanding of the inner workings of the human body. Though this knowledge is often used offensively (for instance, which artery will bleed most when nicked?) it can also be used to the benefit of his allies, and he makes an excellent healer and doctor, should the need arise. When combined with Sanguimancy, this knowledge is especially potent, both offensively and in support of allies.
• Etiquette (Apprentice): Valter is well-versed in the etiquette of nobility and aristocracy, though he never bothered to learn much beyond the requirements of his former station. Still, he can hold his own without appearing a fool at court.

Talents & Powers

• Immortality: Due to his vampiric blood, Valter is functionally immortal. He does not age, wounds heal near-instantly, and given time, he could even regrow lost limbs. The healing factor is entirely dependant on blood, and should he not be freshly fed, his wounds would be just as lethal as they would to a normal human, although his body will never age, regardless of blood consumption.
• Vampiric Swiftness: Like most of his species, Valter can move preturnaturally fast, able to sprint at incredible speeds, rivaling the swiftest hunting-animals. Overuse of this power without subsequent feeding can result in loss-of-consciousness while his body slowly reproduces blood.
• Vampiric Strength: Valter's body is that of a pure-blooded vampire. As such, he was born with a different anatomy than that of humans, or even vampires who were changed. His bones are three times denser than a human's, the cords of his muscles are more tightly-packed, and his body is extremely efficient, with no excess weight due to water or fat, the entire machine is designed for speed and strength. As such, he is much stronger than an ordinary man, though the exact strengths are widely unknown, his own personal tests have placed his limit of lift-able weight at around two-hundred pounds. This, like his speed, however, exhausts his supply of blood, and if used too carelessly, can lead to incapacitation.
• Vampiric Immunity: Valter's body is immune to diseases, poisons, afflictions, and even aging. However, a well-guarded secret is the vampire's weakness to fire. The makeup of a pureblood vampire's body is highly flammable, it catches easily, burns swiftly, and requires much time to heal burns. Most vampires who catch fire don't survive long enough to get the healing blood they need. Fire asside, Valter has very few physical weaknesses.

History

Parents: Lazarus Reinhardt (Father, Murdered by Valter) Lucretia Reinhardt (Mother, Murdered by Valter)
Siblings: Samael Reinhardt (Brother, Murdered by Valter)
Childhood: Valter was born into the Noble Vampiric House Reinhardt, one of the five ruling houses which make up the government of Mortaria. Though not the most powerful house, Reinhardt was a wealthy and noble aristocratic family, who prided themselves on the purity of their bloodline, boasting that they could trace their lineage all the way back to their progenitor. Whether or not this is true is not known. What is known for sure is that house Reinhardt produces vampires with a quality of blood almost unrivaled in other houses.

Considering his location and status, Valter's childhood was mostly spent in opulence, decadence, and hedonistic revelry in his power. He was, however, cultured and taught the finer points of high-society at his parent's demand. His teacher was a lesser-vampire, and not of true blood, a once-human man named Davion, who was well-versed in the lore of the world. In the beginning, Valter despised Davion, viewing him as unworthy to teach him, given his humble vampiric origins. However, Davion's knowledge and mastery continued to impress Valter, until eventually the teacher seemed more of a father to him than his estranged biological father, King Lazarus, busy as he was with his hedonistic indulgences, and ruling of the house.

Adulthood: During his Stasis Ceremony (A celebration not of reaching adulthood, but of reaching the point where a vampire's appearance no longer changes/matures. This ceremony is always a hedonistic blood orgy,) A sudden revolt took place. Hundreds of lesser-vampires, lead by none other than Davion, Valter's lowborn teacher, mentor, and friend, assaulted the Reinhardt compound. The weaker vampires were no match for the powerful pure-blooded Reinhardt knights, and were dispatched with brutal efficiency, ending the would-be rebellion the very night it began.

Davion was captured alive, and was taken before King Lazarus and Queen Lucretia for questioning. Valter attempted to attend the interrogation, confused and concerned about recent events. He wanted to ask Davion why he had attempted such foolishness. Had his family not granted the lowborn fool immortality? Power? A place among the higher species, even if it was not as an equal?

Valter never got the chance to speak with Davion, as the lesser-vampire was put to death, burned alive for treason. When Valter asked his parents why he had turned traitor and fool, he was told that Davion had grown megalomaniacal, and wanted to steal the pure blood of the Reinhardt nobility for himself, increasing his own power, and stealing control of House Reinhardt in the process. Valter accepted this outwardly, but inwardly he was conflicted, as the motivations did not line up with the Davion he knew. A seeker of knowledge, yes, but not of power for power's sake. So, Valter hunted for his own asnwers.

Eventually, he came across Davion's secret laboratory, and his notes. His discoveries would have shaken the foundation of vampiric society. In Davion's journal, Valter learned the truth of his affliction. Vampires did not need blood to survive, they were merely addicted to it. The justification that had allowed the decadence of centuries to eat away at any morality that his species may have had was revealed through Davion's studies. The journal stated that Davion had attempted to tell King Lazarus and Queen Lucretia, but that they declared him a heretic and a madman, and that Davion felt his only chance was to get to Valter once more, that maybe he would see reason.

Valter, outraged by this discovery, and disgusted by the weakness his family had chosen to foster, returned to his home with a grim and volatile determination. That night, he confronted his father. An argument ensued, and eventually it came to blows. Valter slew his father, the King of his house, and then, in rage and disgust, drank dry his mother and brother, ensuring that the blood of the Reinhardt line would never be spread again, until his species was reformed, and could break the bonds of debauchery, hedonism, and addiction that was eating away at their society.

After the murder of his family, Valter forcefully took the throne of his father, and attempted to make harsh and strict changes to the laws regarding the consumption of blood and human life. His people, however, did not take to the change, and it did not take long for mass rebellion (backed covertly by the other houses of Mortaria) to oust the last living Reinhardt from his throne. Rather than die foolishly attempting to fight his enemies, Valter disappeared, forsaking his heritage and beginning instead a life of adventure, learning, and self-reflection.

Special Moments: Davion's lessons, and the slaughtering and cannibalizing of his family at his own hands.
Current Events: Valter has been wandering for the better part of fifty years, learning all he can of magic and the realms. Of particular interest to him is the concept of worldwalking, so he began to dabble. In this dabbling, he has been drawn into an adventure, and been given a new purpose. Though he still holds out hope for his people, he has been made aware of greater and more important threats to the realms.

Mortaria

Climate: Mortaria is cloudy and dark, a land of howling winds and constant storms. The world was long ago cut off from it's sun due to powerful magic, when vampires were still weakened by such things. The mystical sun-swallowing storm produces no lightning, but does thunder often, and produces rain very frequently. Due to these conditions, Mortaria is quite cold, which has no effect on vampires, but makes life dreary and hard for their mortal slaves.
Ruling(s): Mortaria is ruled by a council of five kingdoms or houses, who are themselves ruled by a king or queen. The houses are in a constant state of power-flux, but due to rules set down by their ancestors, no house is allowed to end the bloodline of another, thus ensuring that even during the most violent of house-to-house warfare, the five bloodlines remain in balance. This was true for thousands of years, up until Valter's treachery. These houses are (In order of greatest in power and influence to weakest)

House Fulgrim

House Fulgrim is massive not only in the number of noble vampires it has, but in everything else as well. The richest house in human slaves, Fulgrim holds the most land, has the largest and most well-defended stronghold, and has the largest standing-army of any house. Due to their size and power, the king of House Fulgrim, Ezekiel Fulgrim, is the defacto arbiter of disagreements between the other six kings and their respective houses.

House Fulgrim's lands are to the far north, nestled in both magical and natural defenses.

House Yrael

Yrael is the second most powerful house, mostly due to it's naval mastery. You want something shipped somewhere? They are the people you need to please. They handle nearly all trade from the sea, and make massive profit in both slaves and cattle. Their holdings on land are not vast, but their control of the seas is legendary. Their primary holdings, and their stronghold, are on the north-eastern part of the continent, though their domain is considerably larger if one considers the sea.

House Reinhardt

Currently a vassal-house of House Fulgrim, House Reinhardt is essentially an extension of the larger house, further solidifying Fulgrim's hold on the other houses. With no known living Reinhardt nobles left, the bloodline has been declared dead. Once known for the purity of their powerful blood, House Reinhardt is now little more than a standing army of mercenaries in the employ of House Fulgrim, it's lands reduced to cattle-farms to produce human livestock for the nobles of the Larger house.

House Drana

Drana is a mysterious house in the far-southern reaches of the continent. They live in seclusion in the snows of the south, hiding away in their towers. They are masters of the mystic arts, and what is well-known about them is that this house produces the most powerful vampiric sorcerers. Their Queen, Idranael, is the most skilled mage in all of Mortaria, though few have ever laid eyes on her. She rarely attends meetings of the ruling council, and even less so since the fall of house Reinhardt shifted the balance of power between the houses.

Now not only are they mysterious and reclusive, but they are altogether rare. There hasn't been a sighting of a vampire of the Drana bloodline in years, though communications with their far-southern stronghold still continue, albeit in the form of short, curt letters. Nobody knows what they're up to, but rumours abound.

House Malak

House Malak is the smallest and weakest of the ruling houses, but it was not always so. Long ago, they were powerful enough to rival Reinhardt, and rival Reinhardt they did. The rivalry began a war that ended shortly before Valter's birth, and resulted in the scouring of Malak's lands, and the destruction of half of their nobles, thinning the Malak bloodline considerably. They were allowed to survive, however, as per the Laws of Blood, although they never fully recovered. It was said that after the treachery of Valter Reinhardt, the remaining nobles of House Malak held a feast and gorged themselves in celebration of the murder of their swarn enemies.

History: Vampires have always existed in Mortaria, and the current state of the world has existed nearly static for so long that none are sure how things got the way they are. However, legends persist, particularly among the human currency of Mortaria, of a time before, when humanity ruled their world, and Vampires were merely pests to be feared only in the night.

These legends tell of a terrible and godlike Vampire, who, tired of living in the cracks and crevices of the world, blotted out the sun with impossibly strong magic, causing the Sunstorm that now covers the sky. After the creation of the Sunstorm, Vampires conquered the world, gathering around powerful leaders and seperating into noble aristocratic houses, which would eventually become the houses known today.

Though nobody is sure of the accuracy of these legends, Valter himself considers them very likely true, though obscured by the past.

Relations

* ☠ Enemy * ⚜ Unfriendly * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ღ Ally * ♥ Crush/Significant Other *

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Extras (Optional)

Character Quote: "Decadence can only be curbed by willing self-improvement, or death. I can assist you with either."
Theme Song: Ozar Midrashim
Aura Color: Deep, harsh red, with black writhing tendrils permeating throughout.
Scent: Dust, old books, covered by an enticing cologne
Anything Else:

Ban the Person above you

Banned for assuming Gutshot isn't great. _{Skip to 37:34}

@Gutshot

Pure top-decking luck, could've been any direct damage card. That was pretty nuts though.

Banned for watching competitive magic on youtube.

what has the avatar above you been put in jail for and why?

Jailed for wearing what appear to be living creatures as hair ornaments

Ban the Person above you

Banned for building a persona around a card that isn't even that great