Appearance:
Name: Marshall Chambers
Gender: Male
Age: 1920, appears to be 16
Race: Human
Element: Light-natured; formerly Dark-natured
Dream:Less of a dream, and more of a mission, Marshall’s conscripted is to collect seven hearts steeped in sin; one for each of the Seven Deadly Sins. It is not a matter of if, he’s able to succeed, but once, that he will be allowed to dream of death forbidden.
Home:A land of darkness, where overcast sky and lasting rain is the norm, is where Marshall hailed many years ago. Naturally a denizen of the Dark, his cursed existence has many him an outcast in his own land, and such, he calls no place home; merely a place to rest before moving on.
Gimmicks:Immortality has its talents. Marshall cannot die in a technical sense, but be majorly incapacitated via removal of limbs; his Dark nature, though, makes his body easy to repair, should he be able to recover removed limb. However, if he should lose his right arm, he also loses his primary means of attacking: the Touch of Virtue – a ranged magical artifact that serves beings of a Light-nature with the ability to shoot light in thin beams from the fingertips, or a large beam from the palm. However, being of a Dark-nature, Marshall is forced to shoot his own blood; now saturated with the Element of Light.
Furthermore, despite his immortality, Marshall has a “limited ammo counter” equal to two pints of blood, before he starts to suffer from the effective of blood loss as he’s still human. This can be temporarily mitigated, however, by successfully drawing blood form a target in melee range, and “actively reloading” with this foreign blood.
Personality:Blunt. That's the best descriptor for Marshall's personality. Before becoming cursed by his benefactor – of sorts – into servitude, the thief known, currently, as Marshall Chambers was a brash and confident “reliever of items”. Never overconfident, but, pridefully, willing to maintain his reputation, Marshall gambled it all away in a moment. Having lived generations gone, seeing the ups and downs of many, and longed to join those gone Marshall is withdrawn and blunt, whenever he needs to speak to someone.
There are rare occasions, like seeing twinned snowflakes, that his old personality resurfaces; however, he remembers the pain of it, and is swift to cage it. He's a job to do, and the longer it takes, the longer he suffers the hell that is living, in his mind.
Background: Once upon a time, there was a Human that was born in the shadow of a shadow, under an overcast sky, when the moon was new, and the rain fell lightly. His name is long since forgotten, even though, he still lives and breathes. Unparalleled in his clan, the thief could relieve anyone of anyone, and gained the appropriate reputation for such a feat. He was brash, yet friendly; confident, yet collected; he took nothing to heart... save for one challenge: Stealing the heart of another.
Longingly, the thief sought for the hand of the daughter of the Clan Grandmaster. Unwilling to relinquish his daughter to any one man, he tasked upon the would-be suitors a single item from the Caress of Virtue – a suit of armor that could be used to snuff the darkness without fail. The Clan Grandmaster knew, even a single piece's absence would set back the production of the armor, and delay the worst, if only for a bit.. It was slightly for his pride in his reputation, and largely for his desire for the hand of the coveted daughter, that the thief swore to bring back a piece.
That was over 1,900 years ago, 1904 to be exact. He was sixteen, by human years, and had been since he met her: the Lady of Virtue, a Primal Beast of Light. He stole into her workshop, into her domain, and over his head. Perhaps, the Clan Grandmaster knew the outcome was undefiable failure, he surmised, as he held to a knee before the being of Light; his right arm burning and bleeding, as the Touch of Virtue bound to his being – surrendering its once beautiful silken look and royal colors of golds and red for a charred fabric appearance and burnt ash muddled with blood for colors.
Unthinking Light for its cruelties, the thief found himself bound to the Touch of Virtue, to The Will of the Creator, he found himself given a bargain from his pathetic state and surrendered freedom: “
Bring seven hearts steeped in sin, one for each, and, with them, atone for the sins you hold yourself. Until that day, wander, forever alive until the True Light fades, unable to die, but able to suffer all pain and loss.”
And so, the thief did wander, suffer, and lose; unable to return home, for the light inside him, and unable to stay rooted for the darkness brimming underneath. He wandered, surviving on, as the “immortal mercenary with the bandaged arm,” and becoming known as a man that simply would not die – even if ordered at the point of a sword and barrel end of a rifle. Death was too trivial a request to honor, if those demanding it could not even answer a simple question: “
Whose hearts are steeped greatly in Sin?”
Unfortunately, he would find that to anger law enforcement – especially the corrupt – then the sheer inability to die upon command can be spun as something worthy of capital punishment, and rewards by rotting away in a prison cell for forever.
However, for the immortal thief Ziggurat is a mere setback, and, perhaps, a sign...
Inventory:The Touch of Virtue
CitrusArms,
Noctis,
Snowdrops,
ppppppppp,
Bacon,
Apollosarcher,
Red Hood,
Autumn Moon,
RawrEspada4,
Nakushita
