Post by Norion on Mar 30, 2010 22:03:39 GMT -8
Name: Deus Bonaparte
Alias: Bones
Age: 21
Race: Human
Physical Appearance:
Personality:
Deus is arrogant and cold. He has lived his life taking advantage of people to get what he wants. Dues is a tactical genius, as well as brilliant over-all, and isn't afraid to let you know he is better than you. He has never had an emotional relationship with anyone and sees people as his toys.
Although Dues is a conniving prick, he is also very contemplative. He is a thinker, I guess you could say. He sees things in a way not many people do. Deus examines the world for what it is, and is always analyzing things more than he should. He is excellent at reading body language, and has brought some to the conclusion that he is psychic. Deus is also a very good liar.
Deus is arrogant and cold. He has lived his life taking advantage of people to get what he wants. Dues is a tactical genius, as well as brilliant over-all, and isn't afraid to let you know he is better than you. He has never had an emotional relationship with anyone and sees people as his toys.
Although Dues is a conniving prick, he is also very contemplative. He is a thinker, I guess you could say. He sees things in a way not many people do. Deus examines the world for what it is, and is always analyzing things more than he should. He is excellent at reading body language, and has brought some to the conclusion that he is psychic. Deus is also a very good liar.
Powers/Abilities:
- Tactician- Deus is brilliant in combat. He is often at least two steps ahead of his opponent(s).
- Weapons Mastery- Deus is sound in combat with any weapon in his hand, particularly a bow.
- Heightened Agility/Reflexes- Deus may not be unnaturally strong or fast, but his reflexes and agility are scary to witness first-hand.
- Charisma- It is hard to dislike Deus. He can manipulate people very easily, making him an excellent leader.
- Photographic Memory- Deus remembers things... really well.
Equipment:
- Spear
- Suit of medium weight plate-mail
- Short Recurved bow & a quiver containing 50 arrows.
Gold: 750
Weaknesses:
- Mortal- Despite what Deus thinks of himself, he is a human and he can die.
- Arrogance- Deus tends to find himself in over his head more often than naught.
- Gimp Leg- Although it doesn't affect his movement in any way, his right leg is prone to reoccurring injury. It is his weak-spot, you could say.
Background:
Born to a privileged family in the Rivengaud Citadel, Deus rarely had much to worry about. From a very young age he was able to focus on his studying, whether it was in the books or in the field. He soon grew out of books and into spears, swords, and bows. Something about fighting lit a fire in his heart, and he couldn't figure out what it was.
Every so often the citadel would hold tournaments. By the age of 12, Deus was holding his own against the grown men of the city. The men in the town resented him for having those skills at such a ripe age, and they would often torment his family for it.Eventually, the men went as far as to beat his mother and burn his house to the ground. Deus decided it was time to go hunting.
Deus, armed with his bow and arrows, eliminated each man that had attacked his family. However, he was only able to kill 4 of them before the city guard intervened. They did not want to kill such a young child, so they exiled him from the Citadel. once out in the real world, Deus soon learned what it meant to fend for himself. He became a hardened veteran of real combat by the time he was 16.
Although he was still a teenager, bandits respected him for his skills. By the time he was 18, he had a small bandit settlement in the middle of the Shen Anrath desert. He would often lead the raid parties into the grasslands of Tall, and lived in relative tranquility for about a 2 years. And then...
His bandit party spent three months travelling into Alarunde, wanting to see the Orcish Citadel for themselves. However, they were soon attacked by a swarm of wild Ogres. Deus was barely able to make it out alive.
That was just the end to the beginning of his journey...
Born to a privileged family in the Rivengaud Citadel, Deus rarely had much to worry about. From a very young age he was able to focus on his studying, whether it was in the books or in the field. He soon grew out of books and into spears, swords, and bows. Something about fighting lit a fire in his heart, and he couldn't figure out what it was.
Every so often the citadel would hold tournaments. By the age of 12, Deus was holding his own against the grown men of the city. The men in the town resented him for having those skills at such a ripe age, and they would often torment his family for it.Eventually, the men went as far as to beat his mother and burn his house to the ground. Deus decided it was time to go hunting.
Deus, armed with his bow and arrows, eliminated each man that had attacked his family. However, he was only able to kill 4 of them before the city guard intervened. They did not want to kill such a young child, so they exiled him from the Citadel. once out in the real world, Deus soon learned what it meant to fend for himself. He became a hardened veteran of real combat by the time he was 16.
Although he was still a teenager, bandits respected him for his skills. By the time he was 18, he had a small bandit settlement in the middle of the Shen Anrath desert. He would often lead the raid parties into the grasslands of Tall, and lived in relative tranquility for about a 2 years. And then...
His bandit party spent three months travelling into Alarunde, wanting to see the Orcish Citadel for themselves. However, they were soon attacked by a swarm of wild Ogres. Deus was barely able to make it out alive.
That was just the end to the beginning of his journey...
Sample RP:
Tokyo was the symbol of industrialism. The very human ideal for technological advancement. And yet, and Deus sat atop one of the many buildings in Tokyo, he couldn’t hate it anymore than he already did. The metallic grey of the steel jungle broke through the horizon line like spikes, metal rods bent on taking the disorder and creativity out of life itself. Deus could only sigh as he withdrew his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pants pocket. The red label of the cigarette pack stood out against his black and white outfit; the black dress pants, black vest, black tie, and white button-up shirt with the rolled up sleeves. When he compared his outfit to the metal maze beneath him, he realized the pot was probably calling the kettle black.
As the cigarette came to his lips, the tip ignited on a smooth blaze. The nicotine laced smoke was the closest he would get to the sensation burning brimstone gave him, and it reminded him of home. Ah, Deus Bonaparte. The textbook definition of nostalgia.
The sun broke across the skyline, filling the horizon with fuchsia, scarlet, and crimson. So many wonderful colors stemming from a single object… his moment of reflection was cut short when he realized that all these buildings were in his way. They were the metaphor of society; a bunch of asinine object that all look the same, standing in the way of the true beauty of creation. If Deus could have his way they would all die one by one, forced to watch one another perish by his hand. They would learn the value of existence by feeling it slip from their grasp.
There was no counting how many times he had sat there, on that very building, contemplating how he would destroy mankind and all of its "glory".
The sun was high in the sky when the tremors came.
At first, Deus thought that he was sitting on a cell phone set to vibrate. He quickly stood, throwing his cigarette over the edge of the building. Was his vision vibrating? No, it wasn’t Deus. He wasn’t being summoned; humans had lost the ability to command Deus the moment he was cast out of Hell. It was the noise that caught him by surprise. The sound was akin to a god cracking his knuckles, and as Deus looked over the edge of the building his stood on he found the source of the noise. The ground was just… splitting. Deus’ nostrils flared and he clenched his fists, focusing the majority of his energy into his fists. Had it finally come to settle its feud with Deus once and for all…?
No, that wasn’t it. Tokyo was just getting raped by an earthquake.
The buildings around him began to crumble under the might of Mother Earth one by one, until Deus found his footing disappear. He could feel his energy melt through his hands, down his torso, and into his feet. With the simple use of his will, Deus shot up into the air, and the building beneath him began to grind and crush itself into the ground. As Deus descended down towards the debris below him, he could hear the screams and cries of countless humans. He didn’t need to speak the language to realize what they were saying. High-pitched wailing and running said the same thing in any country.
Fear.
The split second before Deus hit the ground, his sent another burst of energy from his feet into the ground. The pressure on his legs was enough to snap the bones of a normal man, but Deus was anything but normal. He landed softly, without a scratch. The dust clouds around him were so great that he couldn’t see a single thing. Deus closed his eyes, and let his mind clear; the body heat of the people around him began to create an image for him. He could see the wreckage, the cars, the trees, the bodies… so many bodies. He could see the dead ones, still warm from their recent demise, and the ones that were still alive, trapped beneath the buildings that had fallen. Deus chuckled to himself as he lit another cigarette with his willpower. The buildings were still the symbol of society.
Nothing lasts forever...
Tokyo was the symbol of industrialism. The very human ideal for technological advancement. And yet, and Deus sat atop one of the many buildings in Tokyo, he couldn’t hate it anymore than he already did. The metallic grey of the steel jungle broke through the horizon line like spikes, metal rods bent on taking the disorder and creativity out of life itself. Deus could only sigh as he withdrew his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pants pocket. The red label of the cigarette pack stood out against his black and white outfit; the black dress pants, black vest, black tie, and white button-up shirt with the rolled up sleeves. When he compared his outfit to the metal maze beneath him, he realized the pot was probably calling the kettle black.
As the cigarette came to his lips, the tip ignited on a smooth blaze. The nicotine laced smoke was the closest he would get to the sensation burning brimstone gave him, and it reminded him of home. Ah, Deus Bonaparte. The textbook definition of nostalgia.
The sun broke across the skyline, filling the horizon with fuchsia, scarlet, and crimson. So many wonderful colors stemming from a single object… his moment of reflection was cut short when he realized that all these buildings were in his way. They were the metaphor of society; a bunch of asinine object that all look the same, standing in the way of the true beauty of creation. If Deus could have his way they would all die one by one, forced to watch one another perish by his hand. They would learn the value of existence by feeling it slip from their grasp.
There was no counting how many times he had sat there, on that very building, contemplating how he would destroy mankind and all of its "glory".
The sun was high in the sky when the tremors came.
At first, Deus thought that he was sitting on a cell phone set to vibrate. He quickly stood, throwing his cigarette over the edge of the building. Was his vision vibrating? No, it wasn’t Deus. He wasn’t being summoned; humans had lost the ability to command Deus the moment he was cast out of Hell. It was the noise that caught him by surprise. The sound was akin to a god cracking his knuckles, and as Deus looked over the edge of the building his stood on he found the source of the noise. The ground was just… splitting. Deus’ nostrils flared and he clenched his fists, focusing the majority of his energy into his fists. Had it finally come to settle its feud with Deus once and for all…?
No, that wasn’t it. Tokyo was just getting raped by an earthquake.
The buildings around him began to crumble under the might of Mother Earth one by one, until Deus found his footing disappear. He could feel his energy melt through his hands, down his torso, and into his feet. With the simple use of his will, Deus shot up into the air, and the building beneath him began to grind and crush itself into the ground. As Deus descended down towards the debris below him, he could hear the screams and cries of countless humans. He didn’t need to speak the language to realize what they were saying. High-pitched wailing and running said the same thing in any country.
Fear.
The split second before Deus hit the ground, his sent another burst of energy from his feet into the ground. The pressure on his legs was enough to snap the bones of a normal man, but Deus was anything but normal. He landed softly, without a scratch. The dust clouds around him were so great that he couldn’t see a single thing. Deus closed his eyes, and let his mind clear; the body heat of the people around him began to create an image for him. He could see the wreckage, the cars, the trees, the bodies… so many bodies. He could see the dead ones, still warm from their recent demise, and the ones that were still alive, trapped beneath the buildings that had fallen. Deus chuckled to himself as he lit another cigarette with his willpower. The buildings were still the symbol of society.
Nothing lasts forever...