Name: Alphonse Dreary
Image/Appearance:
Alphonse is tall and thin, standing at 6’2”. He looks to be relatively young, maybe to be older 20’s, although he’s lost track of how old he really is. Not old enough to be dying anytime soon, but old enough that he’s seen at least one world war. Representing a Black Witch Moth, Alphonse’s skin is a velvety stone gray, his whole body completely covered in a furry fuzz. Still mostly looking like a human, though, he has everything present that a human would. Arms, legs, stomach, chest, fingers and toes, all covered in that fuzz like Setae. While the mothmen look mostly human, they do have an extra pair of arms and hands. These limbs protrude just slightly under the normal pair, closer to his stomach.
The wings that sit on Alphonse's back are those of the Black Witch Moth, a beautiful black, white, brown and sometimes purple-tinted. They span a total of 90cm when fully stretched out, although the mothman tends to keep them either pressed firmly against his back, or wrapped around himself in a cloak-like fashion.
No ears or nose sit on his head, but where humans eyes should be, sit a pair of black compound eyes. They aren’t overly large, however, but are definitely bigger than what a normal human would have. A black mop of hair sits on his head, flowing unkempt, the bangs almost covering those larger eyes. The back of his hair is short but still wild, flicking and fluffing uncontrolled. One top of his head are two long antennae, fluffy and almost looking like leaves. While he doesn't have any sort of traditional nose present, his face isn't wholly round. A side-profile shows a slight curve, like the bridge of a nose, ending in a point, before sloping downwards to finish the rest of his face.
Alphonse prefers to dress nicely, often seen in at least a button up shirt and dress pants. Occasionally he will have a waistcoat on. He always carries some sort of crystal on him, and has a pendant of a crescent moon tucked under his shirt.
Race: Mothman
Often thought of as just a cryptid man, running around the mountains of West Virginia, Mothmen (and women) are truer than most believe. Originally seen as Death’s constant companions, it’s unknown when the first true sighting was, and it is believed that these monsters have been around almost as long as Death itself. Death would even use them, gifting them the power of a guiding flame, a small handheld light that gave those dying souls succor as they crossed into the realm of the dead.
Their ability to transform into a moth may have been their downfall, as most Mothmen have forgotten their true selves. Legend has it that they transformed to escape the ravaging of humans, and never changed back. The life of a bug was simpler, and with their flame slowly becoming extinguished with time, they too faded from the lorebooks of monsters. Few true mothmen remain now, and with the passage of time, their role as Death’s eternal companion has come to an end.
Racial Traits:
Fragile - Mothmen, just like their smaller selves, are fragile creatures. The wings on their back especially, a slight tear or scrape leaving them grounded for prolonged periods of time.
Flight - The ability of flight is granted from the delicate wings on the Mothmen’s back. If the conditions are right, they can fly for a prolonged period of time.
Guiding Flame - A gift given to them by Death, the mothmen can produce a very small flame in the darkest of conditions. It acts as nothing more than a light, not being able to actually alight anything, no matter how dry the substance is.
Antenna - The antenna on the Mothmen’s head helps a moth in many ways. Not having a nose, these antennas act as a nose for them, often leading them to their next meal or a mate. It also acts as a navigational tool, allowing for a simpler flight.
Night vision/Light Sensitivity - Mothmen have compound eyes with a reflective surface, giving them the ability to see in the dark. They are heavily affected by light, however, and are often seen during the day with wearing a blindfold or some type of covering over the eyes.
Proboscis - Not having a traditional human tongue, instead, Mothmen have a proboscis. The tubed tongue help them get to the nectar of flowers, if they find themselves in the wilds.
Setae (Skin) - Unlike humans, mothmen don’t have traditional skin, their bodies being coated by Setae, or a slight furry like scale. They are almost velvety to the touch, but hard to grab ahold of, almost seeming to slip right out of anyone’s grasp. This helps them keep protected, and remain uninjured, seeing as how they are so fragile.
Transforming - Mothmen hold the power to transform at will, turning themselves smaller. It used to be a way to get closer to those that are dying without detection, but is now used as a means to protect themselves from dangers much larger than them. There is a risk, however, that the longer one is transformed, the more they forget their true selves.
Long-lived - To be Death’s eternal companion, one must be around long enough to be of aid. Mothmen don’t age as normal humans, often living centuries, although death does come for them eventually. Once they forget themselves, however, they tend to only live a few months.
Requirements: Much like vampires needing blood, Mothmen need their own special sustenance - nectar. A simple batch of flowers would suffice. A garden would be nice, though, if there isn’t one already included in the complex. Being a more nocturnal creature, an area that has more dim light would be better suited for the moth.
Personality: Alphonse is a soft soul, often seen with a book in his hands. He is kind-hearted by nature, but often quite shy. Overly inquisitive though, he himself will often find a mess of trouble from sticking his (non-existent) nose where it doesn’t belong. Violence doesn’t suit Alphonse, the man preferring to flee any situation that would make him uncomfortable, rather than tackle it head on.
Definitely not at all a social butterfly, too much time around people he is unfamiliar with will drain his energy fast, and he’ll often need to recharge in his room or garden.
Background: He had almost forgotten himself, you know? After one particularly nasty incident with a pair of humans, cornering him in the streets of some long changed city, he had transformed to flee. The fear stuck with him, seeping into every inch of his tiny body, Alphonse thinking that if he ever changed back he would be done for. It had almost been too long, his mind beginning to forget the feelings of walking on two legs and studying a dusty book, instead only craving the sweet nectar of the flower field he found himself in.
Alphonse had heard a calling though, soft and sweet. A voice sang to him, reminding him what it had been like, to be human. The woman in the flower field, gathering what she could to adorn her house, reminded him. He hadn’t known she was a witch, a practitioner of dark magic that would once again draw him close to death. She wasn’t afraid when he changed, falling to the ground, forgetting how to walk. They lived together then, until the witch turned old, and Alphonse eventually had to lead her from this plane of existence.
It was then that he went in search of somewhere new, the loneliness of her small home sending him to look for a new companion. He found himself, shortly after, at the Umbra Rose Condos. The only place that he could truly be himself, without any risk of losing who he once was in the fear of the humans.
Building, Floor, and room: (Remember that building 1 is mostly for humanoids) Building 2, floor 5, room 2
Room description: Alphonse’s room is always dim, with only natural light or candles to keep it lit up. The wall facing the outside has two large windows on it, with a blackout curtain hanging above them, keeping the sun at bay if it’s overly bright. Everything in his room is some sort of black, purple, brown or gray, with occasional bits of a burgundy scattered throughout.
Crystals are scattered about, set delicately in certain spots, with a few always recharging on one of the window sills. A small desk sits in the corner, next to the full-sized bed. A black box embossed in gold, with a purple velvet cloth over it sits delicately there. The tarot cards in the box are treated well, and while Alphonse denies any actual realism behind his predictions, he will occasionally read your cards if you are close enough to him.
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