Reed, Octavious
May 17, 2011 19:11:54 GMT -8
Post by Octavious Reed on May 17, 2011 19:11:54 GMT -8
Name: Angus Easton
Age: 16
RP Experience: Not much.. That is to say, none at all.
Activity Level: 1-2 hour spans at most, on and off over the day.
- The Character -
Name: Octavious Reed
Species: Human
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Affiliation: Hell
Member Group: Transfigured Human
Appearance: Standing 6 foot flat, with albino skin and pure white hair, Octavious Reed was nothing other than an abnormality. He lived in-between the two barriers, exactly in the middle of the two rings. His business, however, was located closer to the Hellmouth, so he was invariably moved toword Hellish energy and powers. Octavious himself seems almost unchanged, if viewed from a distance. Up close, he remains albino… on half his skin. Roughly half his body, the borders flowing oddly across his form, now shines scabby brown-red, and is growing spiny. His transfigured right arm seems exactly the same as it would normally be, but with rigid spines crawling from fingertip to shoulder. At the fingertip, the spines are still big enough to tear out the eye of a man. Normally, he wears a deep purple robe to help hide the mutations, a burgundy crimsonish. His hair is unkempt, sweeping about all his head in random angles. His ears themselves have grown to sharpened points, looking like the pointed ears of a predator beast.
Personality: Octavious, before his transformation, was a patient man. He respected life, and kept check of everything. His temper is rather long, so he is long to anger and his opinions appealed to any and all sides that had dispute. Once transfigured, however, Octavous has become unpredictable and unstable.
He preaches insanity, attempting to spread the worshippers of darkness across the whole city. He sees everyone as either enemy or ally. There can be no middle, for him. His words are either spoken quickly, instantly stating his opinion, and it usually contradicts anything that is put before him unless it serves him or his masters. His goals are always webbed traps, using one person as a pawn only to sacrifice them the instant they are not needed. All are pawns in the game, even he.
Likes
- Furthering of his or evil plans
- Minions that obey
- Watching pain unfurl.
- Feeding his imps strips of flesh
Dislikes
- When things don’t go as planned or a plan fails
- When minions backsass
- Anything angelic
- Honor
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths
- Has a whole church of tainted at his command
- Acid shooting hand
- Can summon pet imps constantly
- Manipulating son of a bitch.
Weaknesses:
- Not a Daemon.
- A scourge, a 50. Cal browning model, and your arm aren’t the best when it comes to defense.
- Makes decisions instantly. Or never makes them.
History: Octavious grew up with seven siblings, Montahue, Diana, Tristan, Quadric, Quintus, Sexana, and Septimus. Growing up in a family of so many, and a religious family at that, he loved life and all that it stood for. His family was in a good spot, being about middle upper class, so the income fed the whole family with a bit to spare. He majored in Theology and psychology, as well as psychoanalysis. He then took up the graceful job of head priest at a local church, near the middle of the city. He was seen as chosen due to his pure white skin. He was destined for this purpose.
In all ways, Octavious was happy with his life. He had anything he could ask for. Worshipping light, friends, family, and he never had to worry about worldliness. He was walking home one day when the Hellmouth had opened, blasting behind him quite literally as if all hell was breaking loose. He turned as saw a great darkness, a blackness, and he was instantly in love with it. He fell upon his knees and pledged his loyalty.
After the transformation, he has become the leader of a church known as “The Tainted.” They are a group of fanatical heathens, pledging their lives towards the furthering of the Daemonic cause. He stands upon his podium preaching chaos, death, and despair for all those who do not see his ways. He sends recruiters out daily, who are more torturers. Their job is to kidnap those who disagree, or to bring along those who willingly go. Those who oppose have unspeakable horrors committed upon them, until they either go mad or agree to follow them. He holds congregations nearly daily, standing upon his podium, screaming to his hordes of followers while whipping them across their upturned faces and heads with a barbed scourge, driving them into frenzy until he unleashes them upon the streets to wreak their havoc.
Side note about Imps: Imps are small, maybe 2 to 3 foot tall creatures. They're colours vary from brown to purple. They do inhabit hell, but are simple nuisances to Demons. Some keep them as pets, treating them in what form of a loving manner Demons can try and use. They're not very combat effective, but provide great distractions and are capable of actually killing something if given time to sneak up. Octavious keeps them as spies, guard dogs and lovable pets.
Roleplay Example:
“Come in, son.” Octavious sat at his desk in the church, cluttered with his skulls, and strips of flesh. A man walked into the room, his clothes tatters and his face weeping from wounds that seemed to constantly close and re-rip themselves open. “Master, we have broken the non-believers as you asked. However, I am afraid there is one left who refuses to give in.” Octavious sighed. Writing his next sermon would have to wait. He stood, toppling his stool with the violent motion. In the corner, his imp twitched, startled by the movement. Octavous’s quilled arm grabbed a piece of dried skin and lightly threw it to the creature. “So, there is one who has yet to see the true way.” Octavious did not move his head to look at his servant. “There is always one. Always… I will see him.”
The man was a strong looking fellow, his shoulders broad and his muscles bulging. He was struck up above a vat of boiling oil, slowly jumping up to sting his face, chest and nether regions. Bare as he was, he made no noise. Stoically he stared on, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes whenever the oil jumped to his face. Slowly, Octavous wandered nearer, scourge in weak hand, his face solemn. “So, you are the one who refuses to join us.” The man said nothing. Octavious sighed, and handed his follower his whip. “You are simply not doing it right, my child. Watch.” Picking up a heated piece of lead, Octavious examined the man. He had scorches across his front side, from the oil no doubt. Few scratches along his limbs. “You have not touched the back, my sheep. Behold.” He took the heated metal and slowly touched it to the mans back. He hissed in pain, but kept silent otherwise. Silently, Octavious drove the prod into the mans back, and dragged it along his spine, leaving a blackened furrow along the mans back. Finally, he heated the rod again, and drove it into the mans rectum. He screamed as his stool was scorched, and foamed at his mouth. “It seems I have been too rough with him, as you were not.” Pulling the rod out of the mans backside, he looked at the now soiled piece of metal. Covered in baked shit, he smirked, then frowned. Slamming the still burning stake into his followers face, he walked off. “Untie him, and pen him. He is mad. We will serve us only in battle. Next time, do not interrupt me for something so trivial.”
Age: 16
RP Experience: Not much.. That is to say, none at all.
Activity Level: 1-2 hour spans at most, on and off over the day.
- The Character -
Name: Octavious Reed
Species: Human
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Affiliation: Hell
Member Group: Transfigured Human
Appearance: Standing 6 foot flat, with albino skin and pure white hair, Octavious Reed was nothing other than an abnormality. He lived in-between the two barriers, exactly in the middle of the two rings. His business, however, was located closer to the Hellmouth, so he was invariably moved toword Hellish energy and powers. Octavious himself seems almost unchanged, if viewed from a distance. Up close, he remains albino… on half his skin. Roughly half his body, the borders flowing oddly across his form, now shines scabby brown-red, and is growing spiny. His transfigured right arm seems exactly the same as it would normally be, but with rigid spines crawling from fingertip to shoulder. At the fingertip, the spines are still big enough to tear out the eye of a man. Normally, he wears a deep purple robe to help hide the mutations, a burgundy crimsonish. His hair is unkempt, sweeping about all his head in random angles. His ears themselves have grown to sharpened points, looking like the pointed ears of a predator beast.
Personality: Octavious, before his transformation, was a patient man. He respected life, and kept check of everything. His temper is rather long, so he is long to anger and his opinions appealed to any and all sides that had dispute. Once transfigured, however, Octavous has become unpredictable and unstable.
He preaches insanity, attempting to spread the worshippers of darkness across the whole city. He sees everyone as either enemy or ally. There can be no middle, for him. His words are either spoken quickly, instantly stating his opinion, and it usually contradicts anything that is put before him unless it serves him or his masters. His goals are always webbed traps, using one person as a pawn only to sacrifice them the instant they are not needed. All are pawns in the game, even he.
Likes
- Furthering of his or evil plans
- Minions that obey
- Watching pain unfurl.
- Feeding his imps strips of flesh
Dislikes
- When things don’t go as planned or a plan fails
- When minions backsass
- Anything angelic
- Honor
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths
- Has a whole church of tainted at his command
- Acid shooting hand
- Can summon pet imps constantly
- Manipulating son of a bitch.
Weaknesses:
- Not a Daemon.
- A scourge, a 50. Cal browning model, and your arm aren’t the best when it comes to defense.
- Makes decisions instantly. Or never makes them.
History: Octavious grew up with seven siblings, Montahue, Diana, Tristan, Quadric, Quintus, Sexana, and Septimus. Growing up in a family of so many, and a religious family at that, he loved life and all that it stood for. His family was in a good spot, being about middle upper class, so the income fed the whole family with a bit to spare. He majored in Theology and psychology, as well as psychoanalysis. He then took up the graceful job of head priest at a local church, near the middle of the city. He was seen as chosen due to his pure white skin. He was destined for this purpose.
In all ways, Octavious was happy with his life. He had anything he could ask for. Worshipping light, friends, family, and he never had to worry about worldliness. He was walking home one day when the Hellmouth had opened, blasting behind him quite literally as if all hell was breaking loose. He turned as saw a great darkness, a blackness, and he was instantly in love with it. He fell upon his knees and pledged his loyalty.
After the transformation, he has become the leader of a church known as “The Tainted.” They are a group of fanatical heathens, pledging their lives towards the furthering of the Daemonic cause. He stands upon his podium preaching chaos, death, and despair for all those who do not see his ways. He sends recruiters out daily, who are more torturers. Their job is to kidnap those who disagree, or to bring along those who willingly go. Those who oppose have unspeakable horrors committed upon them, until they either go mad or agree to follow them. He holds congregations nearly daily, standing upon his podium, screaming to his hordes of followers while whipping them across their upturned faces and heads with a barbed scourge, driving them into frenzy until he unleashes them upon the streets to wreak their havoc.
Side note about Imps: Imps are small, maybe 2 to 3 foot tall creatures. They're colours vary from brown to purple. They do inhabit hell, but are simple nuisances to Demons. Some keep them as pets, treating them in what form of a loving manner Demons can try and use. They're not very combat effective, but provide great distractions and are capable of actually killing something if given time to sneak up. Octavious keeps them as spies, guard dogs and lovable pets.
Roleplay Example:
“Come in, son.” Octavious sat at his desk in the church, cluttered with his skulls, and strips of flesh. A man walked into the room, his clothes tatters and his face weeping from wounds that seemed to constantly close and re-rip themselves open. “Master, we have broken the non-believers as you asked. However, I am afraid there is one left who refuses to give in.” Octavious sighed. Writing his next sermon would have to wait. He stood, toppling his stool with the violent motion. In the corner, his imp twitched, startled by the movement. Octavous’s quilled arm grabbed a piece of dried skin and lightly threw it to the creature. “So, there is one who has yet to see the true way.” Octavious did not move his head to look at his servant. “There is always one. Always… I will see him.”
The man was a strong looking fellow, his shoulders broad and his muscles bulging. He was struck up above a vat of boiling oil, slowly jumping up to sting his face, chest and nether regions. Bare as he was, he made no noise. Stoically he stared on, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes whenever the oil jumped to his face. Slowly, Octavous wandered nearer, scourge in weak hand, his face solemn. “So, you are the one who refuses to join us.” The man said nothing. Octavious sighed, and handed his follower his whip. “You are simply not doing it right, my child. Watch.” Picking up a heated piece of lead, Octavious examined the man. He had scorches across his front side, from the oil no doubt. Few scratches along his limbs. “You have not touched the back, my sheep. Behold.” He took the heated metal and slowly touched it to the mans back. He hissed in pain, but kept silent otherwise. Silently, Octavious drove the prod into the mans back, and dragged it along his spine, leaving a blackened furrow along the mans back. Finally, he heated the rod again, and drove it into the mans rectum. He screamed as his stool was scorched, and foamed at his mouth. “It seems I have been too rough with him, as you were not.” Pulling the rod out of the mans backside, he looked at the now soiled piece of metal. Covered in baked shit, he smirked, then frowned. Slamming the still burning stake into his followers face, he walked off. “Untie him, and pen him. He is mad. We will serve us only in battle. Next time, do not interrupt me for something so trivial.”
