Meathods of Madness
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- #120
- Joined:
- May 4, 2011
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[align=center]I feel it right at the heart of me And it grips me physically
Dragging down so far below And it's a violent vertigo
Digging it in like a parasite Feeding off what I keep inside
Manifest when I'm throwing trust To the cold and the nebulous[/align]
Character Number- 8 (Spoils of War)
Name- Bade*
Age- 24
Gender- Male
Sexuality- Asexual
Appearance-- Bade carries no physically memorable or impressionable features apart from one; winter white dreadlocks that fall to his mid-back. At least, they would be the color of fresh snow if they were washed and not subjected to constant slews of grunge that both defiles the pure color and acts as a binding agent for the dreads. Characteristic to his line, he inherited his family's genetic of 'white hair'. In actuality, the tresses are truly clear due to a lack of pigmentation. He usually has the roped cords pulled into a thick, loose tie at the nape of his neck. Only during the execution of a ritual does he let his hair fall freely.
Manipulated into looking shorter due to the length in which his hair is kept, Bade still only stands at an average 5'7”. He is thin and wiry almost as if his ascension from adolescence has not caught up with him. There is little musculature to speak of traced over his limbs, barely enough to define him apart from the female gender and still make him look akin to a gaunt scarecrow. His face is ovular in shape, set with a simple nose and ghostly wisps of lips. His cheekbones, while gently curved, still stretch obviously beneath his skin and make his skull appear almost surrealistic. The eyes set in prominent sockets are like pools of the night sky, hardly a shade or two lighter than pitch black painted onto the irises. When viewed in strong light, the true hue of murky, russet-brown can be deciphered.
Bade's skin was once a striking, handsome tan in his youth but now only bears a mockingly pallid tone, the softest touches of whispered tawny breathed over bone white. His hands and feet are skeletal, long and with skin stretched tightly over bone. There is no misplaced dexterity to them, however, and he exercises his efficiency with both accurate motioning with his hands and surefooted gaits on foot. Heavily calloused, his feet are often susceptible to being trudged around unprotected by shoes and have built up thickened skin to compensate from the harsh traversing of terrain.
The young man's attire is typical to his proclaimed profession of being a witch doctor. His lower body coverings are naught but thick strips of cloth and leather that fall from waist to just above the knee. These remnants of materials are fastened onto a pair of thick twine cords held together by rungs of large teeth and claws of various animal species. Anklets of similar design are found around both ankles. He wears a shirt fashioned from rib bones lined together to make a unique v-shaped garment with a sternum set in the center. The macabre designer piece is bound by adhesives and strung together by red cord that cross-tie in a style similar to a corset. It is only enough to cover his pectoral muscles and uppermost ribs and leaves his lower torso unclothed. Unmistakable to the world's eyes, he is apparently fed enough to keep the emaciation of his ribcage to a minimum and even allow a trace of tightened core muscles to press against the taut skin.
He has thick, black dire wolf furred bracers on his wrists that cover half his forearm. The last of his typical garb is his most prized and often worn either over his face or across his back – the famed witch doctor's mask. The body of the mask is the old bone lion skull, formerly from one of the heads of a chimera. Fitted behind like feathers in a cap are five of Drest's shed primary feathers arranged like the descending five-point star of a maple leaf at the crown of the mask. It has been painted a deep brownish-red with thick, contouring pale gold lines following the curves of the mask as if to trace its shape within the edges.
Personality- - Bade over the course of a decade has devolved into nothing more than a hollow puppet. Drest’s presence and manipulations have gutted the once quiet, spirited boy into an obedient puppy, helplessly forlorn in existence outside of his master’s direction. He’s a brainwashed follower, lost in the belief that his actions are taken for the betterment of the victim’s spirit. No amount of reasoning or rationalizing can hope to ever pierce the veil Drest has shrouded his rider within. Bade’s delusional nature has so overpowered his own sense of purpose that his former goals of purification have been twisted into a violent mockery of what his younger self aspired for.
Once he had been a more extroverted image of his younger brother, Amoux. Confident, compelled, faithful to his tribe’s ways and beliefs; he was the heir beneath his father, due to pick up the torch of becoming head shaman of his tribe. But like the corrosion set in motion like oxygen to iron, his former purity has been rusted into a twisted visage. The ceremonies coaxed and demanded from him have morphed divine purpose into ritualistic sadism. Rites decreed by the Ruin are preformed with a fierce sense of obedience. Bade will follow instruction like a carefully conditioned working dog with all but blind loyalty to the dragon holding his leash.
So malleable is he that the coercion is no longer fought against. He’s so withdrawn into a shell-like state that the only real impulse he feels the need to act on, asides from base necessities, is his fastidious nature. Probably the one and only trait he is still able to cling to from his younger self, Bade is a highly organized individual to the point of compulsion. All his tools are kept cleaner and more polished than his own personal appearance, every detail of the rituals taught unto him remembered and well practiced, like the final thread binding him to his former grandeur.
Rank- Blood, Witch Doctor
History- - Born as the first child and son to the head shaman of a nomadic village, Bade was everything and more than the tribesmen could hope for. A future, a leader, a guide; someone to take fill his father’s moccasins whenever the elder’s time would come to pass. This is what they saw in the young protégé, this is what the nomads hoped to one day guide their paths. So thus Bade was raised, to be a leader, loyal, kind and companionate on his path towards unlocking his own inner sight.
The child grew in years, shepherded gently along the way. His loyalty and attention to detail with his father’s teachings showed promise for his future. Every passing year drew him closer to adulthood within his clan and nearer to the mastery of how to save the spirits of his kin. His twelfth year was finally waning; the eve of his thirteenth birthday creeping slowly forth by time’s ticking hands while the travelers had bunked down for the night on the stretches of the Zavan Plains. Unfortunately, a darker fate was due to intervene.
Descending like wraiths in the night, a host of scavenging Taints had been loosed for the purpose of gathering suitable candidates for their leader’s awaiting clutch of various eggs due to blend into his ranks. A few of the village’s youths were taken, Bade among them. Fear of the unknown gripped him while the Mycotic that carried him away clouded his mind with hallucinogenic spores. Eventually the fungal toxins wound their way through the boy’s system, warping reality into a chaotic dream as the Taints closed upon the Murks and the cloying hatching ground within the wasteland.
A crystal soon followed the amassing of unwilling prospects as the foreboding ceremony started underway. Horrors spilt forth from shells, clawed their way into the world with malice unmatched. It was when the smoking Ruin egg shattered that finality marked Bade for a lost soul. Twins spilled forth, a pair of steaming Revnants bound by blood. While his sister sought her own match, the maned brother prowled languidly to claim the pale haired Bade as his prize and divulged his ominous name built from riot and ruin: Drest.
The Ruin wasted no time in whittling away at his partner’s character, sometimes in a compelling coax yet other times with malicious ferocity. Drest tore at the fabric of Bade’s personality as years passed, forcing him to bend to the creature’s beliefs and twisted lies. He convinced the shaman that in order to save those he hoped to guide, ritualistic slaughter would save their souls. Cajoled into the specter’s words, soon Bade took them for truth, seeking a false sense of ‘salvation’ and ‘healing’ for those captured by the nebulous vapor.
Bade’s fall from grace has been a long one. With the death toll and ostentatious demand for larger theatrics from the Ruin climbing higher, the mastermind sought an enforcing presence to protect his pastime pleasures. After seven years since bonding, the Ruin collected a Cerberus pup into his clutches. The equivalent of a ‘black dog’, Barghest was raised as protector of the rituals and borders of their realm. While he’ll defend what is asked of him from either human or dragon, like Bade, the beast’s primary master to serve and who holds the final say is Drest.
After the capture of the Tainted Lord, the Ruin pairs’ lives have hardly been hit with repercussion. Nothing vital has changed in the Ruin’s chaotic routine and pursuits. But the malevolent beast is keeping an eye on the unraveling of events, searching for a suitable opportunity to wreck havoc where offered and rise in both prowess and power.
- *No last name was ever given to Bade, as he was snatched on the eve of his 13th birthday before the rite of passage was performed within his tribe. His name is spawned from the French word for “full moon” but doubles its meaning with the past tense of “bid”, to command.
Pet(s)- - Barghest – Male – Cerberi
Large, bulky, and hard to miss, Barghest lives up to the terrors of his species. His wolfish frame sides along the lines of a Sundasher in overall appeal, built with strength and endurance as keystone focuses. His coat is a mottling of deep umber broken by inky guard hairs. The near-black mahogany is most noted near the beast’s core, as the points of each face, ears, legs and tails all are collectively obsidian in pelt and scale. The melanistic gene is responsible for his shadowed tones, as without it, he would have been more akin to the coloring of a russet red wolf. He boasts impressively long claws and fangs like the fabled monster he was named after along with three pairs of haunting, pale blue-gray eyes that mirror the likeness of the full silvery moon.
Protective, Steadfast, Fierce He’s certainly not a beast to be trifled with. As the guardian instated for perimeter protection during Drest’s rituals, territory guarding is a highly motivating factor for this Cerberus. He’s often charged with the joint task of both keeping unwanted eyes out of boundaries as well as captured victims within them. While he will follow commands set in place by Bade, Drest is his true master, just as the Ruin is master over his human bonded.
The Dragon
[align=center]Come to me, kill for me, worship me Follow everything I do, act it out before me I’m the one they told you would come again Let me show you all the signs to bring about the end [/align]
[align=center] [/align]
Name- Drest
Age- 11
Gender- Male
Element- Ruin
Appearance-- Much like his breed standards demand, Drest is a fine specimen of a Ruin fit within the expected bounds. He's built from lovely sloping sinew in a frame that stretches to 80' in length and 20' at the shoulder. His spine is rather peculiar; it slopes almost like that of a German Shepherd, giving his forearms the appearance of a slightly greater reach than his hind as well as a more pronounced rolling gait. He bears a decent bit more bulk from worked muscle mass than the wispier of his kin, much like a great toned cat, and isn't afraid of using this added volume to his advantage. His stride exudes rippling power despite his element's ineptitude with physically harming a breathing opponent.
His head bears the Revnant's most distinctive aspect and it’s fairly safe to say his eerie mask does little to disappoint the horrors of imagination. Its figure is that of a saber tooth tiger's skull, frozen at the height of a ferocious roar. The carefully maintained fangs are pristine, free of chips or jagged breaks, with the most notable canine fangs scything out from the muzzle like twin reaching daggers. Because his maw is forced to forever remain yawning open like some gaping grin, gases spew forth from the jaws in endless waves. Drest's mask is primarily coated by a deep maroon, a hue stolen from dried blood, though one can find splattering effects near the corners of his jaws and around the forehead and base of his mask where bone white shows through. The overall effect is as though layers of caked on blood have washed over the mask and been allowed to dry into permanence, despite this being the natural coloring.
Carved forth in the mask are two sets of eyes, the larger socketed where normal orbs would sit in the feline shaped skull and the smaller second set diagonally beneath. The iris's are a sharp, bloody ruby tone devoid of pupils, but more oft than not their haunting demeanor is masked behind the swirling vapor that rises like a translucent curtain before them. Caracal-like ears twitch up from behind the cranium, triangular and tipped with a fringe of tuft fur at the end of their stretched length. Drest long ago had a pair of spearing bull's horns that overshadowed his mask, but these had been broken in a skirmish and since slowly filed down into hidden nubs beneath a shaggy mane of quills encompassing his neck like that of a lion. The quilled mane is primarily coated in pale, washed out tawny with brindled highlights of even lighter cornsilk playing across the nape of the neck.
While the full of the mane ends at the start of his chest cavity, the dorsal quills continue on the entirety of his length until it blends seamlessly into a thick bottlebrush tuft at his tail tip. Four acute osprey-shaped wings mark him for the Air mutation that he is. The larger pair is set behind his shoulder while the smaller fan from his far lower back. The feathers are all markedly simple with their dusty chocolate coloring and would appear altogether normal if it weren't for the billowing vapors constantly stirring around and from them. The smoky curtain trailing the specter is a startling nebula of starkly saturated rose brushed with strokes and wisps of accenting indigo like an astronomer’s painting.
His crystal is a rather odd piece of work, shaped like an ornate starburst and a blackened, tarnished bronze in shape and hue. A dim luster remains, but only just. It’s located between his shoulder blades amidst the sea of hefty mane to guard it from prying eyes.
Personality- - This Ruin’s been plagued by a bout of insanity’s twisted purpose since the day he and his sister spilled forth into the world in a mottled cloud of twining gases. He’s lured by the dark, entranced by the sadistic gluttony that drives his ever-changing motives. Causing havoc is his only constant road. He’s much like a rabid dog relieved of his chain, yet gifted with the cool calculation to remain a collected individual, well in control of his antics. Unfortunately he’s a highly volatile persona, capable of being incited to murderous rage with the slightest disturbance to his liking.
His malcontent nature is perhaps the driving force behind his devil-may-care attitude towards what his actions cost. Drest has never been overly concerned with authority’s potential rebuke towards his brash thrills. The Ruin is a beast of passionate theatrics, ambitious in the arts of one day being the hellion to stand above all and watch the world merely burn itself to a cinder after he’s tipped the right scales. Being as obstinately ambitious in his seize for power, Drest isn’t like to ever lose his lust for influence. The more he can weave into his masterful spell with his suave demeanor and debonair charms, the closer to empowerment he feels.
Drest is every bit as self-entitled as a dictator who sees nothing but gain to come of his actions. Even with the death of the Dark Lord and full dictation of his own mind, the mutated Air retains no grudging mourn for those he’s toyed with or put to the altar. He’ll continue down his damnable path, mesmerizing and inspiring the souls he’s managed to steal away from reason and practicality’s sway.
Sibling- - Female Ruin Asherah (twin)
Children- By Toxic Augari -Female Ruin Ghede
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