Age: 19 Personality: A young man without any real happiness or hatred of his circumstances. He dislikes himself and his eyes. But seeing as how his life, as much as it was shaped by his eyes was also something he built and chose for himself he cannot bring himself to try and change it. He is in a way complacent and accepting of his situation, as it was something he was born in and something that has dictated his life.
Despite not wanting to people’s lives were shared with him and so he had no choice to think about them. To intervene, to help, to simply give a small helping hand. Ideas like that came to mind from time to time. Yet to change one’s routine, to change one’s habits and approach so was something he was resistant to. Instead he continued to be an observer, one who sometimes pitied people for their pain, sometimes hated people for their misfortune and how it made him uncomfortable. Even more he dislikes himself for feeling so selfish over the suffering of others. It wasn't like people were trying to share it with him, there was nothing they did wrong.
Pain that still throbbed day from day, mental scars that were covered up so people could fit into society. He saw what lied underneath the surface and shoved it away, spitting upon it for his own convenience. To not do anything was okay he reasoned. But to ignore and deny the pain of others, to dislike them for it was something he could not justify even to himself. He drowned out any guilt by saying he was the most cursed of all, yet feeling the pain of others such whispers to himself feel hollow.
Pain is something he tolerates, pain is an annoyance. His aversion to pain is normal, but his tolerance and feelings toward it are more casual and greater than most people. To him people are a pain, in the manner that they can be annoying and in the way that they’re quite literally pain. Loneliness is something he’s used to, although he still feels the desire for companionship and as such talks to people through media. Even with something as an intermediary he does not like talking to people he is around regularly that much. Knowing, and to an extent, understanding their pain, there’s a certain amount of intimacy that feels awkward to him. In a way he felt sometimes that despite being in isolation he was too close to people. Few people could experience each other no matter how much they cared for each other, how deeply they knew each other as much as he did. They didn't, they couldn't feel each others pains.
Was it really worth knowing people then?
Not that he can do anything about it either way.
Appearance: Wispy locks of black hair reach down to barely cover his ears and eyes. Yet even through that and his own attempts to keep his eyelids closed in his eyes are big and wide as if trying to taken in the world, happily molded to be quite visible. In the end they're contrasted by the minor signs of wrinkles around his sockets from from squinting his eyes all the time. Not all that particularly tall, if anything a bit on the short side. His body is normal, his athleticism is normal. He doesn't wear clothes to stand out, instead wearing whatever comes to mind. Fashion isn't something he cares of too much, nor is knowledgeable of as he finds it difficult to pay attention to things like that.
In the end he gives a sense of being a bit unwell, to the extent that you don't want to really deal with him, but not to an extent that you'd feel concern over.
Biography: He was a sort who did not deal with people, not by avoiding and shunning them, a way in which one would abjectly be marked as a different existence and either be rejected in turn by people just as they rejected people, or alternatively be an outsider they wished to pull in their midst. No, he was a sort who simply went with the flow. He talked to people but did not invite much interest or returned much attention. He acknowledged others and they acknowledged him, but such an acknowledgement was like the acknowledgement of a stranger. There was someone you knew who existed but that existence was inconsequential to your world, your life, your reality.
He grew up in in a small town, the only son in a family that had been part of the town for a long time. His family consisted of a father who often was working, a dealer of antiques who traveled to foreign places from time to time, always returning bringing a mixture of things to appeal to customer and things strange that simply caught his interest. A man enthusiastic about his work but not quite passionate. To him it was like a hobby, one he was invested in but not one where he devoted himself to. Yet it was more of a something to fill his interest than the life of a normal man, the life of a normal parent. His other parent was his mother who passed away before he had the chance to know her.
And in a way he never truly came to know anyone else.
Ghostly scars, glowing and translucent like jelly, cancerous small lines and blobs that clung to people, that weighed them down and seemed to spasm with life. They were not real objects, they were not a thing that existed, they were a thing no one else saw. Only he could see them, only he could touch them.
And when he touched them pain came. A firm touch brought pain to him, corresponding to the place. Faint memories, sensations and knowledge flowed to him each time. The lingering memory of scars. Pain kept him away from others, and other people meant pain. At first it was simply pain from touching people, but as he grew older this unknown abnormal perception grew in power. By the time he was in highschool the smallest pinpricks that hinted at the pain came just from sight, and the memories and knowledge, the context around the pain became clearer. While able to live through daily life incident With the presence of people with pasts full of trauma, mental or physical becoming prickly needles upon his skin when he saw them, a psychosomatic pain that he came to associate with the presence of people. He drew away from people due to associating them with the pain. He came to seek distance from others, to not see or be around them. He took refuge in himself.
Avoiding people, avoiding contact with people he lived his life quietly. Yet despite the fact that he disliked pain, that he was the sort of person who tried to not deal with his problem and instead hid away, he found himself unable to keep his eyes away from people in the end. It was okay as long as he didn’t know them or touch their scars. The pain of looking at them was unpleasant but he could deal with it, and knowing that they had such pain was something he could live with as long as he didn’t come to know them.If he couldn’t then he couldn’t live in society. Ultimately he could not distance himself completely from others.
Despite not wanting to observe the world he looked at people, both due to something in his nature and because of the necessities of living in society. In the way he associated people with pain he came to know people’s pains. New pains were something he took attention of, great pains he found himself curious about. But he only observed. In a way he was an outsider who watched people who was able to see in a way those in the limelight could not, like an audience for a show he felt the traces of what occurred and watched the people who lived different lives from him.
He lived as a normal student despite his situation and eventually graduated. Instead of shooting for a university or turning his sights towards some ambitious job he instead looked into fishing, or being a truck driver. The reason he came to Fuyuki was that it was city, a place with opportunity, but not too large of one. Somewhere like one of the big name cities was too much for him. He wanted as a job something away from people, something where he could be an introvert in peace. Especially as finally his eyes advanced to a point where touching people upon their scars reignited their own pain and brought the memories back from the past.
But as the ritual repeats again he’s noticed a new bruise, a mark.
This time it was on him and for some reason he felt it wasn’t normal. Origin:Refuge
Elemental Affinity: Earth
Number of Magic Circuits:C Quality of Magic Circuits:D Od: C Magecraft: He ain’t got jackshit, man… as a magus anyway.
No magecraft knowledge.
Little knowledge of the Supernatural World. However due to his eyes he has seen odd things here and there, and as such would not be too surprised by supernatural elements.
Mystic Eyes of Empathy.
An esper ability that is a hybrid power of Pure Eyes, that which can see what is not suppose to be seen. And Mystic Eyes, that which causes interference, of an esper type. An abnormal perception that does not fit in the common sense of mankind. He was born with this mutation that set him aside from humanity and yet tied him to them as his eyes are of sharing and bringing life to the pains of the past.
Otherwise he is able to see things that are not normally able to be seen as is standard with Pure Eyes. Such as astralized servants, certain energy, a certain Crimson Red Vermillion’s Origami and so on.
Through his eyes he sees lines and blobs across the bodies of people. Red means current pain, black means pain from physical trauma notable enough to be recorded while mental and emotional trauma is represented with white
Looking at people he feels faint echoes of the memories of their pain. Acknowledging one’s presence can be enough to feel this, so in a way it can be good to keep track of someone’s presence. However it is primarily a visual thing and so the effect is greatest when he’s looking directly at someone.
His touch retrieves the history of pain, mental or physical that was recorded on the soul. Small minor pains are forgotten, inconsequential unless he carefully looks at a person and tries to delve into the past. When he presses firmly on white or black the pain from that event returns. Like a certain curse of a certain useless servant that was mankind’s wish for all the evils of the world (Verg Avesta), this pain is reflected on the soul of those who he touches and also upon himself. With this pain comes a vague understanding of the context of the pain, and should he dive into it concrete memories and knowledge could be attained, a copying of memories and experiences similar to what is possible with Etherlite. When he touches Red all that happens is that the current pain of someone is reflected upon his soul.
He does not see anything on his own body.
Should someone have a severed part of their body that is able to feel pain then it would linger with the memory of the pain of being severed for a few days until it begins to rot. While it isn’t as if the soul would be connected to it at that point fragments/leftover thoughts akin to that which is the basis of a ghost/apparition can be accessed, along with the record of the injury within the bodypart for a perhaps less unintelligible and quite painful “memory/experience” to draw upon.
It is not limited to human beings, but to see anything of their pain the subject would have to hold a soul.
As an esper ability it is not subject to magic resistance.
Perhaps there is more that these eyes could exhibit with further development.
However in the end what he would most definitely wish for is the ability to control them and turn them off.
If only if he were fortunate enough to meet a red-haired sensei of his own, to either provide instruction or some glasses.
Equipment: Enough money to tide him over through a modest living for six months as he searches for a job. A rather recent flip-phone, a DS, a Playstation, a comic book, and book collection of varied taste. A decent amount of translated western books, but mostly local books written by Japanese people.
Access to odd trinkets from his father’s shop that he can “borrow” It is unlikely for much of it to be useful however..
Skills: Basic education, fast at reading. Somewhat decent at not grabbing attention.
Strength:C(B) Endurance:D(C) Agility:B(A) Mana: C Luck: E
Class Skills:
Presence Concealment - NA.
The Class Skill of Assassins. Servant Assassin does not possess this skill due to it being replaced by Secret Intel
Skills:
Secret Intel:B
At this rank Servant Assassin is able to give off the impression of a wise, kind and caring person. Hostile intentions are hidden and Servant Archer does not have the impression of a foe. In combat it does not function, although it does serve to hide the darkness of the grudge that his Noble Phantasm represents until it is activated. Servant Archer is seen as a friendly and helpful person, a deceitful cover to the hateful and foul being that is Nessus.
At this rank this skill does not prevent suspicion falling upon him from circumstantial evidence along with being unable to stand against allies outing Assassin. However unless definitive proof of his ill intentions or identity is provided then Servant Assassin will ultimately seem like a man with no ill intentions.
This skill replaces Presence Concealment.
Monstrous Strength:B
A Centaur, born of Centaurus, the son of Nephele and Ixion. Much more like brutish beasts than the wise man that Chiron was, tapping into his animalistic nature mixed with the faintest blood of royalty and divinity, the power of the mountain mares floods Archer and increases his Strength by a rank. By using this skill Servant Archer will eventually return to being a Centaur if he was summoned in the guise of a man to help hide his identity. Returning to a Centaur increases his physical parameters by a rank, but so too does his rank as a monster rise up. Continuing to use this skill in his Centaur-guise he comes to look more bestial and indeed degrades further into being little more than a common animal, a paltry excuse for a man-like being.
Mana Burst (Poison):B
Combining his grudges and the diluted Hydra Poison that flows through his veins Servant Assassin is able to infuse his arrows with magical energy that comes from the poison flowing inh his veins. Due to his legend Servant Assassin is weak to poisons but should he be attacked by a poison he is able to add that poison to his arrows. Finally the great pain from the poison of the Hydra leaves Assassin strong against effects that work upon inflicting suffering or pain rather than actual damage, but consequently using this skill grates at his spiritual core and causes damage.
TLDR this hurts like a bitch and generally being Assassin is suffering always.
Divinity:C
Descended from Centaurous who in turn descends from the nymph Nephele, Servant Assassin holds some degree of divine blood in him, although in greater amount is the simple blood of mountain meres, rendering him more beast than man or god. Servant Assassin is definitely divine, but his level is not that high compared to those with a more direct tie. However he rivals among those whose ties or divinity are in question. A divine monster in a way.
Noble Phantasms
The Arrow (Tunic) of Twin Bloods, False Faithfulness - The Hydra is a Serpent (liar) with many faces (deceit). Range 1-30 Targets:1
Anti-Unit A rank.
Born of the arrow used to slay him, it is filled with both Nessus’s grudge, the potent poison of the Hydra and his own blood he falsely proclaimed to Deianira that would bring the faithfulness that she desired from Herakles, this is an arrow holding a great curse born of the combination of the virulent hydra poison and his own blood tinged by his lie.
The noble phantasm that is the crystallization of his grudge that ended the greatest hero. It is a spiteful curse to lay low even the greatest of heroes. When Assassin is fatally wounded or slain his may as a last action invoke this Noble Phantasm as a curse of vengeance towards the one who defeated him. Plunging an arrow into his spiritual core the full power of the Hydra’s Venom consumes him and is empowered by his grudge, becoming a curse to strike down his target. Appearing in the chest of the target in mimicry of where he impaled himself, his blood congealed into a thick mud from the venom and hatred flows through to poison them. His pain becomes their pain, the pain of his death by their hands and the pain of the venom that has become one with his blood due to his legend.
A crystallization of the story of the Tunic of Nessus and the end of one of the greatest heroes in history, it is a powerful grudge to lay low even the mightiest legends.
