Supernatural Lifeforms Intelligence Communication & Eradication [Interest Thread]
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Name: Johnny H. Ezekiel
Gender: Male
Division: D5
Appearance: Half-elvish and half-human, Johnny stands at 5?11 and weighs 150 lbs. Although a bit slim in figure, his body is rather well-muscled and physically capable. He possesses blonde hair, green eyes and a lightly tan complexion. He has a rather handsome face with not a bit of facial hair on it and has lengthened his hair to the point where it can cover his pointed ears if need be. For casual attire Johnny likes to wear a demin jacket, black shirt, demin jeans, a pair of boots and leather archery gloves. When trying to appear more formal he?ll don a khaki-coloured suit with a white shirt-vest and patterned cravat. Regardless of the situation, he?ll never be seen without his brimmed hat. [http://www.wildearth.com.au/assets/full/510_61_KHAKI.jpg] He also wears a small silver cross along a brown string over his neck.
Gear/Powers: A folding mechanical bow which can be compacted to the point where it would fit into a shoebox. Arrows that expand from a pen-like shape to full length when activated. A HUD system with a red scanner glass over one eye and a com-sensor for an earpiece. In terms of more mundane equipment ? he carries around some rope, a thick empty bottle, a burlap sack, some tinder and a small knife. When it comes to physical powers, Johnny has excellent senses due to his elven blood. He has better sight, hearing and smelling than any human would.
Personality: Johnny is highly courteous, being fond using formalities such as ?sir? or ?ma?am? when speaking with others. He?s very friendly and generally possesses an optimistic, upbeat attitude in regards to most things. He does tend get a bit sour though when the subject of demons is brought to the table. He boasts about being dauntless when facings risks, but will often falter when he feels his life is at danger. Although rarely the brightest bulb in the room, Johhny is a sharp thinker when put under pressure. He's Christian and a strong believer in traditional moral values.
Bio: Johnny was born to an elven father and a human mother. Lucky enough to have been born without the more grotesque defects that commonly came with halfblood births, the boy had a relatively joyous childhood growing up in backwater Louisiana. Both his mortal and immortal parents were very loving of him. Being a halfbreed, Johnny wasn't granted to luxury of being able to socialize much with others. His sphere of friends was limit to his parents, his close family members who were already in on the secret and a handful of hillbilly folks who simply assumed his knifed ears to be the result of being an unfortunate inbred. Johnny learned to greatly value the few relationships he did possess because of this.
Both of his parents cared for him very much in their own ways. His human mother taught him about the importance of courtesy, loving others and telling the wrongs from the rights. His father on the other hand taught him the skills of survival and hunting - him often taking Johnny out into the bayou so the two of them could track animals and camp out together. Although he was often considered a scaredy cat and afraid of risk due to his internal defects, his father helped him over the years to overcome many of his fears and become more outgoing.
One day Johnny's pleasant life took a tragic turn. When his father had been wandering through the bayou, he had come under attack by a demon. The beast killed his father and left the corpse to be found by the boy. Filled with rage to the point where his heart almost seized up, Johnny took off into the swamps to track down the demon. He used the skills of hunting and survival which his elven father has taught him to help enact this attempt at vengeance. Unknown to the boy though was that the demon had been picked up on the radar of a certain agency, who had sent their own people into deep Louisiana to deal with him. When the agents finally managed to pin down the location of the demon however - they found it dragging its half-dead self through bloody swamp water with a dozen arrows in its hide, while being chased by a howling haldbreed.
Intrigued by the apparent skills of the bayou boy, the agents offered Johnny a chance at joining their organization to help fight other demons. Letting his curiosity the boy accepted the offer and left with them. After the agency put him under a series of difficult tests they found themselves impressed by the halfbreed. Deducing that his talents would make him an excellent reconnaissance operative, Johnny was quickly assigned to the D5 branch of SLICE.
Notes: While one might believe Johnny to be a healthy young man from the outside, within the boy is quite the medical mess. When he was born he possessed a defect within his heart which resulted in a hole between the organ's inner walls. While with normal people such a disability would be easy to treat, the bizarre workings the halfbreed's body makes it impossible to operate on without risking his life. This defect results in the blood and oxygen flow of Johnny's body to function irregularly, which it turns makes heavy physical exertion dangerous. Being forced to hold breath or experiencing an increase in blood pressure often poses serious risk to the boy's well-being. If put through these conditions, danger can be avoided by him taking specific medicines immediatly afterwards. Another hindrance for Johnny comes from what many assume to be a boon. As his elven blood heightens all of his senses, this results in his nerves being able to feel things much more intensively. Pain of any sort is exceptionally more agonizing to Johnny than it would be for any human or elf.
Gender: Male
Division: D5
Appearance: Half-elvish and half-human, Johnny stands at 5?11 and weighs 150 lbs. Although a bit slim in figure, his body is rather well-muscled and physically capable. He possesses blonde hair, green eyes and a lightly tan complexion. He has a rather handsome face with not a bit of facial hair on it and has lengthened his hair to the point where it can cover his pointed ears if need be. For casual attire Johnny likes to wear a demin jacket, black shirt, demin jeans, a pair of boots and leather archery gloves. When trying to appear more formal he?ll don a khaki-coloured suit with a white shirt-vest and patterned cravat. Regardless of the situation, he?ll never be seen without his brimmed hat. [http://www.wildearth.com.au/assets/full/510_61_KHAKI.jpg] He also wears a small silver cross along a brown string over his neck.
Gear/Powers: A folding mechanical bow which can be compacted to the point where it would fit into a shoebox. Arrows that expand from a pen-like shape to full length when activated. A HUD system with a red scanner glass over one eye and a com-sensor for an earpiece. In terms of more mundane equipment ? he carries around some rope, a thick empty bottle, a burlap sack, some tinder and a small knife. When it comes to physical powers, Johnny has excellent senses due to his elven blood. He has better sight, hearing and smelling than any human would.
Personality: Johnny is highly courteous, being fond using formalities such as ?sir? or ?ma?am? when speaking with others. He?s very friendly and generally possesses an optimistic, upbeat attitude in regards to most things. He does tend get a bit sour though when the subject of demons is brought to the table. He boasts about being dauntless when facings risks, but will often falter when he feels his life is at danger. Although rarely the brightest bulb in the room, Johhny is a sharp thinker when put under pressure. He's Christian and a strong believer in traditional moral values.
Bio: Johnny was born to an elven father and a human mother. Lucky enough to have been born without the more grotesque defects that commonly came with halfblood births, the boy had a relatively joyous childhood growing up in backwater Louisiana. Both his mortal and immortal parents were very loving of him. Being a halfbreed, Johnny wasn't granted to luxury of being able to socialize much with others. His sphere of friends was limit to his parents, his close family members who were already in on the secret and a handful of hillbilly folks who simply assumed his knifed ears to be the result of being an unfortunate inbred. Johnny learned to greatly value the few relationships he did possess because of this.
Both of his parents cared for him very much in their own ways. His human mother taught him about the importance of courtesy, loving others and telling the wrongs from the rights. His father on the other hand taught him the skills of survival and hunting - him often taking Johnny out into the bayou so the two of them could track animals and camp out together. Although he was often considered a scaredy cat and afraid of risk due to his internal defects, his father helped him over the years to overcome many of his fears and become more outgoing.
One day Johnny's pleasant life took a tragic turn. When his father had been wandering through the bayou, he had come under attack by a demon. The beast killed his father and left the corpse to be found by the boy. Filled with rage to the point where his heart almost seized up, Johnny took off into the swamps to track down the demon. He used the skills of hunting and survival which his elven father has taught him to help enact this attempt at vengeance. Unknown to the boy though was that the demon had been picked up on the radar of a certain agency, who had sent their own people into deep Louisiana to deal with him. When the agents finally managed to pin down the location of the demon however - they found it dragging its half-dead self through bloody swamp water with a dozen arrows in its hide, while being chased by a howling haldbreed.
Intrigued by the apparent skills of the bayou boy, the agents offered Johnny a chance at joining their organization to help fight other demons. Letting his curiosity the boy accepted the offer and left with them. After the agency put him under a series of difficult tests they found themselves impressed by the halfbreed. Deducing that his talents would make him an excellent reconnaissance operative, Johnny was quickly assigned to the D5 branch of SLICE.
Notes: While one might believe Johnny to be a healthy young man from the outside, within the boy is quite the medical mess. When he was born he possessed a defect within his heart which resulted in a hole between the organ's inner walls. While with normal people such a disability would be easy to treat, the bizarre workings the halfbreed's body makes it impossible to operate on without risking his life. This defect results in the blood and oxygen flow of Johnny's body to function irregularly, which it turns makes heavy physical exertion dangerous. Being forced to hold breath or experiencing an increase in blood pressure often poses serious risk to the boy's well-being. If put through these conditions, danger can be avoided by him taking specific medicines immediatly afterwards. Another hindrance for Johnny comes from what many assume to be a boon. As his elven blood heightens all of his senses, this results in his nerves being able to feel things much more intensively. Pain of any sort is exceptionally more agonizing to Johnny than it would be for any human or elf.
Aw, shit. This is gonna screw me over. The bio's going to be long, like Richard Graykin [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/540.395692.16208926] long. Also, as a sort of divine joke, I've got two major projects that need to be finished soon, both in the same week. The only thing that will effect participation is if I end up dead/with cancer, assuming I get accepted, so don't be afraid to accept my sheet. However, finishing the sheet by tomorrow will be a Herculean feat, unless you let me abridge/skip part of the bio. Everything else is done, by the way.RuedyN said:
Name: Medea
Gender: Female
Division: D6
Appearance: Medea is a striking person to say the very least. Starting from the head, she is completely bald, but the cause of that can be clearly seen. Burn scars mark scattered sections of her face. However that is not all, as brand marks can be seen on one side of her face, going no further to the other side than her nose. Those glow whenever she uses her powers and continue down one side of her body. Her eyes are rose-coloured, and often just stare ahead. Likewise with her face, Medea rarely shows any emotion. She is waif-like, pale and thin. Medea usually wears plain clothing or whatever is given to her by S.L.I.C.E. to wear. This is usually is a patient gown along with a medical ID bracelet as tests are being run on her and her abilities by D4 ever since they found her.
Gear/Powers: She only has what S.L.I.C.E. has given her, or what they trust her with. But as for powers, she has the ability to use magic. This manifests as a power to scry - that is, seeing visions of far away places, whether it be far away in time or in space. However, this is painful for her. The more far away the place is in time or space, the more painful it is for her. The glowing brands are not just cosmetic, they literally re-awaken and cause a burning sensation. That is not the only painful thing either, while scrying, the eye on the branded side of her face turns milky white then twists itself itself into a mockery of a demon?s eye. Though this can be countered somewhat with painkillers. Medea can also hex people with her magic, but that itself is draining as well.
Personality: Medea is, in a word, quiet. She keeps to herself and does whatever the scientists in D4 order her to do, as things are easier than way. Also, she does not actively seek out the attention of others or companionship. When others speak to her, Medea often takes the shortest route out of the conversation. Usually she just responds with rude remarks then walks away. She is somewhat ?broken? and is emotionally numb. Some of the scientists in D4 see this as a sign that she has PSTD disorder because of her unpleasant experiences with demons. However, she is not a doormat. Medea would rather get on with her assigned mission than waste time talking to others or worrying about the dangers ahead. She is also an insomniac, and stands guard every night until one of the D4 scientists injects her with something to make her sleep.
Bio: Her story began decades ago in 16th Century Scotland, where she was born. Born an orphan in fact, she survived by wit, guile and dark power. Medea, to put it bluntly, was a witch of the darkest sort. She made crops fail, spreaded illness across the land and more with her ill-gotten powers. Medea signed a pact in blood with a demon named Abigor, power in return for her immortal soul. And boy she had fun with it. But then, the North Berwick witch trials happened. Soon mobs were calling for blood, her blood. Medea tried to hide, but was eventually caught, thrown into a cell and tortured. Hot brands were thrust onto flesh and the witch?s bridle was placed around her mouth. She cried for help from Abigor, but he refused. None of her spells would work, as they were black, destructive magic. So, in order to stop the pain, she finally confessed to being a witch.
Her hair was shorn and she was given a rough rag to wear. A perfect look for her execution. She was tied to a wooden stake and was burned. But Abigor whisked her away to a hidden cave as soon as the flames began to lick her. Not knowing the true reasons why she was rescued, she fell on her knees and thanked him. As soon as she lay prostrate on the ground, Abigor leaned in close and whispered his plans for her. She screamed and the cave was turned into a little version of Hell, her own personal hell. Abigor tortured her for centuries then, as seeing her tortured by the humans had filled him with glee and he wanted more. Soon, all Medea knew was pain. She watched herself whither away to nothing, she saw visions of the demon war against the angels and more. But, she was saved from this by S.L.I.C.E.
The newly recruited agents of the newly formed organisation came across the cave during a demon-hunting mission. Now, she is in the custody of D4, who use her scrying powers to track down demon hiding places.
Notes: ?Medea? is not actually her real name but one she chose after reading about the powerful sorceress in Greek Mythology during her time in ?rehabilitation? - basically her getting accustomed to the modern world. She remembers almost nothing about her past except the name ?Abigor? and lots of pain.
Gender: Female
Division: D6
Appearance: Medea is a striking person to say the very least. Starting from the head, she is completely bald, but the cause of that can be clearly seen. Burn scars mark scattered sections of her face. However that is not all, as brand marks can be seen on one side of her face, going no further to the other side than her nose. Those glow whenever she uses her powers and continue down one side of her body. Her eyes are rose-coloured, and often just stare ahead. Likewise with her face, Medea rarely shows any emotion. She is waif-like, pale and thin. Medea usually wears plain clothing or whatever is given to her by S.L.I.C.E. to wear. This is usually is a patient gown along with a medical ID bracelet as tests are being run on her and her abilities by D4 ever since they found her.
Gear/Powers: She only has what S.L.I.C.E. has given her, or what they trust her with. But as for powers, she has the ability to use magic. This manifests as a power to scry - that is, seeing visions of far away places, whether it be far away in time or in space. However, this is painful for her. The more far away the place is in time or space, the more painful it is for her. The glowing brands are not just cosmetic, they literally re-awaken and cause a burning sensation. That is not the only painful thing either, while scrying, the eye on the branded side of her face turns milky white then twists itself itself into a mockery of a demon?s eye. Though this can be countered somewhat with painkillers. Medea can also hex people with her magic, but that itself is draining as well.
Personality: Medea is, in a word, quiet. She keeps to herself and does whatever the scientists in D4 order her to do, as things are easier than way. Also, she does not actively seek out the attention of others or companionship. When others speak to her, Medea often takes the shortest route out of the conversation. Usually she just responds with rude remarks then walks away. She is somewhat ?broken? and is emotionally numb. Some of the scientists in D4 see this as a sign that she has PSTD disorder because of her unpleasant experiences with demons. However, she is not a doormat. Medea would rather get on with her assigned mission than waste time talking to others or worrying about the dangers ahead. She is also an insomniac, and stands guard every night until one of the D4 scientists injects her with something to make her sleep.
Bio: Her story began decades ago in 16th Century Scotland, where she was born. Born an orphan in fact, she survived by wit, guile and dark power. Medea, to put it bluntly, was a witch of the darkest sort. She made crops fail, spreaded illness across the land and more with her ill-gotten powers. Medea signed a pact in blood with a demon named Abigor, power in return for her immortal soul. And boy she had fun with it. But then, the North Berwick witch trials happened. Soon mobs were calling for blood, her blood. Medea tried to hide, but was eventually caught, thrown into a cell and tortured. Hot brands were thrust onto flesh and the witch?s bridle was placed around her mouth. She cried for help from Abigor, but he refused. None of her spells would work, as they were black, destructive magic. So, in order to stop the pain, she finally confessed to being a witch.
Her hair was shorn and she was given a rough rag to wear. A perfect look for her execution. She was tied to a wooden stake and was burned. But Abigor whisked her away to a hidden cave as soon as the flames began to lick her. Not knowing the true reasons why she was rescued, she fell on her knees and thanked him. As soon as she lay prostrate on the ground, Abigor leaned in close and whispered his plans for her. She screamed and the cave was turned into a little version of Hell, her own personal hell. Abigor tortured her for centuries then, as seeing her tortured by the humans had filled him with glee and he wanted more. Soon, all Medea knew was pain. She watched herself whither away to nothing, she saw visions of the demon war against the angels and more. But, she was saved from this by S.L.I.C.E.
The newly recruited agents of the newly formed organisation came across the cave during a demon-hunting mission. Now, she is in the custody of D4, who use her scrying powers to track down demon hiding places.
Notes: ?Medea? is not actually her real name but one she chose after reading about the powerful sorceress in Greek Mythology during her time in ?rehabilitation? - basically her getting accustomed to the modern world. She remembers almost nothing about her past except the name ?Abigor? and lots of pain.
Dammit Penguin, I was gonna go with a Greek prophetess if nobody wanted Lars. Admittedly, the character I had in mind was more a mixup of Cassandra and River Tam, but still....
She's not greek, she's scots. So you're in the cleat to make a character know one believesdeathbydeath said:
Edit: lol, spell check, you fail sometimes.
I was talking about general character themes when I said "Greek prophetess", but upon closer examination, Medea's not what I thought she was.MortifiedPenguin said:She's not Greek, she's Scots. So you're in thecleatclear to make a characterknowoneI believes.
Edit: lol, spell check, you fail sometimes.Fixed.
Also, moar grammar fixes
*Shrugs*deathbydeath said:I was talking about general character themes when I said "Greek prophetess", but upon closer examination, Medea's not what I thought she was.MortifiedPenguin said:She's not Greek, she's Scots. So you're in thecleatclear to make a characterknowoneI believes.
Edit: lol, spell check, you fail sometimes.Fixed.
Also, moar grammar fixes
Thats what I get for typing on my phone.
Well it's good to know you're one of those people who gets kicks out of unnecessarily correcting other peoples spelling/grammar.deathbydeath said:*Rebuttal Shrug*MortifiedPenguin said:
Mine fixes my spelling
Name: Lars Eckhart
Gender: Male
Division: 1, but he doesn't spare himself field work and investigations. If not, then D5 with strong connection to D1.
Appearance: He's getting old, and he can feel it. Healthy habits have certainly prolonged his prime, but be still isn't what he once was. Formerly sporting a short blond cut that looked like it was singed with a blowtorch, Lars' hair is now lightening up quite a bit, losing the darker colors he once had in exchange for a growing luster he never had before. His eyes still retain their traditional dull hazel, though, one of the few parts of him that refuses to age. Unlike his eyes, though, Lars' face is evidence of his age and experience, with its assortment of largely healed-up scars, with the notable exception of a gouged-out tract under his right eye, following the trail a tear would, assuming Lars still has tears after these long years. In addition to the scars of demons, though, are the scars of time itself. Wrinkles are starting to show themselves on Lars, mostly skirting the edges of his face and jaw, but they are there even when buried among demonic injuries sustained over the years. His parents were also German immigrants to the States, in case you needed to know.
Gear: Not much, honestly. When he's deployed as an investigator, he'll wear civilian clothing. When in a war zone, he'll put on body armor, but he keeps it light so he can stay mobile. He can use a gun competently, although he rarely goes on mission packing a weapon due to his use of magic. Speaking of magic, he's a mage, but he's not a caster. He manipulates some sort of magic/ki/energy, depending on how shit works, but nonetheless, he manipulates the energy into solid form and pokes people with it. When it stops touching his body, it won't go far/last long, but a few projectiles can be flung as desperate measures. He generally molds the energy around his right arm like a foil, and uses the immaterial blade to facilitate the fencing style he uses.
Personality: If you don't mind me referencing TVTropes, he's a nihilistic Type III Antihero who's reasonably sadistic at times. He follows the "Closed Fist" ideology which, if you haven't played Jade Empire, means that he places individual strength/ability above all else, and refuses to help others if it means depriving them of a chance to become stronger. Condescension is a bad habit of his, and he can't stand stupid people. He's also a grammar nazi.
Bio: Lars was began in a manner similar to other many great heroes: He exited the womb of a woman as an infant, and that woman became his "mother". All facetiousness aside, Lars' mother, Helen, was a German immigrant into the US who arrived a decade prior to her son's birth. His father, Arthur, was also of German descent, but not as directly since his family had entered America quite a few generations ago. Heritage aside, Lars was a wonderful child. He was very respectful and polite, harbored a deep desire to learn and study how things worked, and while not introverted, he was cautious and guarded around people he had yet to know.
Lars lived his life for another twenty three years, with nothing too noticeable showing its face or interrupting his life, at least not yet. At the sprightly age of twenty-three, Lars and several of his college friends planned a two-week trip to India, because why not? They came up with thorough plans, rented a car, prepared passports, and set up pretty much every thing they could think of. Lars went ahead of the group to secure rentals, book hotel rooms, etc. about three days beforehand, partially to do what he described, and also partially to wander around Northern India without the ball and chain of his friends restricting what he wanted to do. That was not a good idea. On his second day there, a massive storm rolled in, cutting off all air traffic in the region, and pretty much stopping all long distance ground traffic. To accentuate this problem, demons were running about. Lars didn't know this at first, though, he just saw the symptoms, like disembodied corpses hanging from buildings and humanoid but deformed shapes skulking in the outskirts of his vision. After about twenty hours of this paranoia-inducing trauma was when the firefights began to break out. They started off in the distance, with the staccato pattering comparable to a drum line out of sync with itself. Given time, though, the noise grew closer and closer until it was right outside of his lodgings. Curiosity overriding his sense, Lars peeked behind curtains and through cracked doors, all to get a look at the conflict steeped between the two sides. Most of the gunfire he heard originated from presumably human, but I use the word presumably because there were other monsters warping from grotesque beasts to exquisite creatures to shapes as human as you or I. Some would pick up firearms and lurk behind enemy lines in plain sight, while others would emerge from their homo sapiens masks to wreak havoc among the human ranks. This continual conflict raged around the building Lars was hiding in for a good while, with both parties eager to vanquish the other frontally than annex the nearby structure. The unfortunate trajectory of some thrown bodies, however, lead to demons storming the residence and Lars removing himself from the premises as expediently as possible. This lead to the first half of his intense hatred for demons.
Lars sprinted through/around buildings and street corners, attempting a mad escape from the Lovecraftian beings haunting every other footfall. He dashed and sprinted, leapt and rolled, and generally maneuvered in the opposite direction of any moving being, such was his paranoia and fear. In due time, though, Lars' luck ran out, just like his places to run. This is where fate kicks in. A man fell (or possibly leapt?) through the roof above Lars, ridding the college student of his pursuers through masterful applications of bullets, a sort of magic, and pointy objects. Upon confirming the temporary security of the situation, the new stranger escorted Lars away from the war zone, with brothers/sisters-in-arms retreating in short order. As Lars was escorted by the combatants away from the battleground, questions poured out of him like water from behind a broken dam. Who are you? What are those? Why are you fighting? Why here? Aren't those guns illegal? Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Eventually, his numerous pleas for enlightenment were met with a slap on the back of the head; they weren't out of the woods yet.
Finally, when they were, Lars was properly inspected for demonic influence and found satisfactory, being left with the man responsible for Lars' continued living. They sat in silence for several minutes, each acknowledging the other but not making contact. Finally, the mysterious savior burst Lars' dam of curiosity again: "What happened to all of those questions you had earlier?" This time, however, there was no danger, and each of the questions were answered. The man's name was Arthur Kent. He was twenty-nine years old. He was also of German descent, but lived in Wales. His hair was the color of pine bark, except after it had been ground up in a blender and sprinkled with sand. He was a large and strong man. Hardly a brute, but the closest a human can get to matching the physique of a tiger. His eyes were endlessly blue, and so deep you didn't want to look into them without a parachute on your back. Arthur was both Lars' savior, as well as his mentor and teacher. Arthur taught Lars everything he needed to know, and much more he only used later. Lars was instructed upon the psychology of the demonic, about their bloody history with other races, and how to hunt them while being hinted by them. He was informed about the sudden appearing and mass migration from China to India and the campaign launched by smaller groups or single hunters, united together to stop the demonic "Domino Theory". Arthur didn't just lecture Lars, either. He taught him how to survive, how to keep others from doing the same, how to recognize friend and foe. He even educated Lars in the ways of firearms, hand-to-hand combat, and even utilizing magic to an extent, which quickly became Lars' go-to method of inflicting lethal wounds. The two became fast friends, each sharing something new with the other. Arthur was a flutist, womanizer, and connoisseur of fine wine. Lars was an artist, clever handyman, and damn good soccer player.
Arthur wasn't the only person fighting demons in India, however, nor was he the only person Lars became friends with. During his transformation from college student to demon hunter, Lars fought alongside and bonded with others like Abdul-Hakam, Niami, Irena, Brandon, and Karam. These skilled seven, in conjunction with other pockets of martial prowess, were invaluable in counter-campaigning against the demons, and Lars stuck with them all the way. Even when the civilian side of things cleared up, and transportation opened up again, Lars refused to leave. He had found his place in life, defending humanity from their eternal enemy alongside a multinational ragtag group of (relatively) young people. Lars' days became a comfortable routine, following an amalgamation of scouting with Arthur and Irena, training magic with Abdul-Hakam, and kicking everybody's ass at poker. He even developed a relationship with Niami that flourished during the war. Although it died down to merely a close friendship after they all left India, both of them will vehemently deny that anything happened to this day. In a manner not dissimilar to all other good things, though, this one ends as well.
Gender: Male
Division: 1, but he doesn't spare himself field work and investigations. If not, then D5 with strong connection to D1.
Appearance: He's getting old, and he can feel it. Healthy habits have certainly prolonged his prime, but be still isn't what he once was. Formerly sporting a short blond cut that looked like it was singed with a blowtorch, Lars' hair is now lightening up quite a bit, losing the darker colors he once had in exchange for a growing luster he never had before. His eyes still retain their traditional dull hazel, though, one of the few parts of him that refuses to age. Unlike his eyes, though, Lars' face is evidence of his age and experience, with its assortment of largely healed-up scars, with the notable exception of a gouged-out tract under his right eye, following the trail a tear would, assuming Lars still has tears after these long years. In addition to the scars of demons, though, are the scars of time itself. Wrinkles are starting to show themselves on Lars, mostly skirting the edges of his face and jaw, but they are there even when buried among demonic injuries sustained over the years. His parents were also German immigrants to the States, in case you needed to know.
Gear: Not much, honestly. When he's deployed as an investigator, he'll wear civilian clothing. When in a war zone, he'll put on body armor, but he keeps it light so he can stay mobile. He can use a gun competently, although he rarely goes on mission packing a weapon due to his use of magic. Speaking of magic, he's a mage, but he's not a caster. He manipulates some sort of magic/ki/energy, depending on how shit works, but nonetheless, he manipulates the energy into solid form and pokes people with it. When it stops touching his body, it won't go far/last long, but a few projectiles can be flung as desperate measures. He generally molds the energy around his right arm like a foil, and uses the immaterial blade to facilitate the fencing style he uses.
Personality: If you don't mind me referencing TVTropes, he's a nihilistic Type III Antihero who's reasonably sadistic at times. He follows the "Closed Fist" ideology which, if you haven't played Jade Empire, means that he places individual strength/ability above all else, and refuses to help others if it means depriving them of a chance to become stronger. Condescension is a bad habit of his, and he can't stand stupid people. He's also a grammar nazi.
Bio: Lars was began in a manner similar to other many great heroes: He exited the womb of a woman as an infant, and that woman became his "mother". All facetiousness aside, Lars' mother, Helen, was a German immigrant into the US who arrived a decade prior to her son's birth. His father, Arthur, was also of German descent, but not as directly since his family had entered America quite a few generations ago. Heritage aside, Lars was a wonderful child. He was very respectful and polite, harbored a deep desire to learn and study how things worked, and while not introverted, he was cautious and guarded around people he had yet to know.
Lars lived his life for another twenty three years, with nothing too noticeable showing its face or interrupting his life, at least not yet. At the sprightly age of twenty-three, Lars and several of his college friends planned a two-week trip to India, because why not? They came up with thorough plans, rented a car, prepared passports, and set up pretty much every thing they could think of. Lars went ahead of the group to secure rentals, book hotel rooms, etc. about three days beforehand, partially to do what he described, and also partially to wander around Northern India without the ball and chain of his friends restricting what he wanted to do. That was not a good idea. On his second day there, a massive storm rolled in, cutting off all air traffic in the region, and pretty much stopping all long distance ground traffic. To accentuate this problem, demons were running about. Lars didn't know this at first, though, he just saw the symptoms, like disembodied corpses hanging from buildings and humanoid but deformed shapes skulking in the outskirts of his vision. After about twenty hours of this paranoia-inducing trauma was when the firefights began to break out. They started off in the distance, with the staccato pattering comparable to a drum line out of sync with itself. Given time, though, the noise grew closer and closer until it was right outside of his lodgings. Curiosity overriding his sense, Lars peeked behind curtains and through cracked doors, all to get a look at the conflict steeped between the two sides. Most of the gunfire he heard originated from presumably human, but I use the word presumably because there were other monsters warping from grotesque beasts to exquisite creatures to shapes as human as you or I. Some would pick up firearms and lurk behind enemy lines in plain sight, while others would emerge from their homo sapiens masks to wreak havoc among the human ranks. This continual conflict raged around the building Lars was hiding in for a good while, with both parties eager to vanquish the other frontally than annex the nearby structure. The unfortunate trajectory of some thrown bodies, however, lead to demons storming the residence and Lars removing himself from the premises as expediently as possible. This lead to the first half of his intense hatred for demons.
Lars sprinted through/around buildings and street corners, attempting a mad escape from the Lovecraftian beings haunting every other footfall. He dashed and sprinted, leapt and rolled, and generally maneuvered in the opposite direction of any moving being, such was his paranoia and fear. In due time, though, Lars' luck ran out, just like his places to run. This is where fate kicks in. A man fell (or possibly leapt?) through the roof above Lars, ridding the college student of his pursuers through masterful applications of bullets, a sort of magic, and pointy objects. Upon confirming the temporary security of the situation, the new stranger escorted Lars away from the war zone, with brothers/sisters-in-arms retreating in short order. As Lars was escorted by the combatants away from the battleground, questions poured out of him like water from behind a broken dam. Who are you? What are those? Why are you fighting? Why here? Aren't those guns illegal? Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Eventually, his numerous pleas for enlightenment were met with a slap on the back of the head; they weren't out of the woods yet.
Finally, when they were, Lars was properly inspected for demonic influence and found satisfactory, being left with the man responsible for Lars' continued living. They sat in silence for several minutes, each acknowledging the other but not making contact. Finally, the mysterious savior burst Lars' dam of curiosity again: "What happened to all of those questions you had earlier?" This time, however, there was no danger, and each of the questions were answered. The man's name was Arthur Kent. He was twenty-nine years old. He was also of German descent, but lived in Wales. His hair was the color of pine bark, except after it had been ground up in a blender and sprinkled with sand. He was a large and strong man. Hardly a brute, but the closest a human can get to matching the physique of a tiger. His eyes were endlessly blue, and so deep you didn't want to look into them without a parachute on your back. Arthur was both Lars' savior, as well as his mentor and teacher. Arthur taught Lars everything he needed to know, and much more he only used later. Lars was instructed upon the psychology of the demonic, about their bloody history with other races, and how to hunt them while being hinted by them. He was informed about the sudden appearing and mass migration from China to India and the campaign launched by smaller groups or single hunters, united together to stop the demonic "Domino Theory". Arthur didn't just lecture Lars, either. He taught him how to survive, how to keep others from doing the same, how to recognize friend and foe. He even educated Lars in the ways of firearms, hand-to-hand combat, and even utilizing magic to an extent, which quickly became Lars' go-to method of inflicting lethal wounds. The two became fast friends, each sharing something new with the other. Arthur was a flutist, womanizer, and connoisseur of fine wine. Lars was an artist, clever handyman, and damn good soccer player.
Arthur wasn't the only person fighting demons in India, however, nor was he the only person Lars became friends with. During his transformation from college student to demon hunter, Lars fought alongside and bonded with others like Abdul-Hakam, Niami, Irena, Brandon, and Karam. These skilled seven, in conjunction with other pockets of martial prowess, were invaluable in counter-campaigning against the demons, and Lars stuck with them all the way. Even when the civilian side of things cleared up, and transportation opened up again, Lars refused to leave. He had found his place in life, defending humanity from their eternal enemy alongside a multinational ragtag group of (relatively) young people. Lars' days became a comfortable routine, following an amalgamation of scouting with Arthur and Irena, training magic with Abdul-Hakam, and kicking everybody's ass at poker. He even developed a relationship with Niami that flourished during the war. Although it died down to merely a close friendship after they all left India, both of them will vehemently deny that anything happened to this day. In a manner not dissimilar to all other good things, though, this one ends as well.
They fought Homo-Erectus. That's what I was going for there. Humans basically started off fighting demons, both sides were created roughly around the same time, homo erectus was simply the first ones to use tools, similar to demons, and so they fought them for supremacy. Poor old Erectus didn't have magic, but gained it through Sapien, which is a result of crossbreeding.deathbydeath said:
And I forgot I put math in there, so I'm just going to say either Leibniz or Leibniz's wig is a demon. Or he simply rediscovered it. Either one really.
The thread will be closing tomorrow due to complications.