Name:
Ronnel Qunae
Nickname/Alias:* Experiment No. 87
Age: 24
Race: Human (Fallien)
Height: 6'4”
Weight: 215lbs
Occupation:
Personality: Confident, quiet, comfortable with talking. Ronnel is sure of himself and faces challenges head on. Due to events, he is slow to trust - but when he does, he holds on tightly.
The times when Ronnel is most vocal is when Experiment 25 is trying to get him speak for her. Other than that, he tends to be quiet and reserved. He is ever watchful, almost to the point of paranoia - less for himself, and more for her.
Likes: Strong, windy days, starlit skies, Experiment 25.
Dislikes: The dark, still air, being alone.
History:
Ronnel grew up in a small, tightly knit family, his mother and father raising him with love and care. From a young age, he was a bit different - he would often be seen talking and responding to people that weren't there, and one single person more often than others. He always seemed a bit softer with this imaginary friend, and it kept him quiet and safe as he spoke with them, so his parents let it be. He was often ignored by the other children in the area for his odd physical appearance - silver hair, red eyes, and pale skin made him stand out amongst the heavily tanned natives of Fallien, and children are ever cruel to those who are different. But he didn't seem to mind - his ‘friends’ didn't care what he looked like, he claimed to his parents, so the cruelty of the other children washed off of him.
It was as he approached his teenage years that things went terribly, terribly wrong. His mother died in childbirth - a miscarriage gone horrible. The medics in the area were few and far between, and poorly trained, and both mother and child - a sister to Ronnel - died on the birthing bed. Ronnel was thankfully spared the sight - but his father had been there, desperate to help. And watching his wife and daughter die - broke the man. He became an alcoholic, wasting away all of the savings the family had accumulated, driving Ronnel into the streets to try to earn money to feed his addiction.
So began a life of petty crime, with Ronnel detesting what he had to do for his father. The man’s temper got worse as time wore on, his need for alcohol getting worse and worse. Until it became too much - and debtors came for him, because he had finally run dry on money, and credit. Ronnel - was nowhere to be found. The debt collectors assumed the boy dead in a ditch somewhere, and took the father away to Hernsford.
Ronnel was - both more and less fortunate. Before the debt collectors came, someone else had found the silver haired child. Tales of a silver haired thief had reached the ears of a particularly nasty group - ones who despised outsiders with a passion, and who felt that experimenting on them, and learning how to improve ‘good, true Fallien lives’ was vital and necessary. So the young teen was kidnapped, mere hours before debt collectors would have taken him for slavery. Spared that life - fortunate. Pulled into the life of an experiment, less fortunate.
The teen was subjected to years of experimentation. Drugs, torture, magical and mental assaults - designed to drive him into the depths of despair and madness. But also trained. Meant to be a soldier, a tool in the service of the strange group, he was whipped into excellent shape, forged into a ruthless weapon. Or - they tried to. Because Ronnel was never, ever alone. His friends were still around - many of them different than they had been, older, rougher voices, ones that begged to be used, to help him bathe in the blood of everyone around him for their actions. Years of their whispers left him colder, quieter than he had been as a child.
But. There was one. One voice that remained the same, ever present, ever constant. Ever caring, reaching out for him even when, it became clear, that both of them were in pain. Her voice was his star, his strength. She kept him sane, even as his captors tried to break him. She kept him whole, even as unseen beings tried to get him to use them. In the depths of that hell, in those dark days, her voice, soft, steady, caring, pulled him forward. And he returned it - talking with her long into the night, sharing with her his life outside of that hell. They relived his memories, together - but never seeing each other, just imagining the others presence.
And then, Ronnel learned something terrible. Something that made him shift. Something that made him call one of his friends to him. Something that finally, finally made the now young man, let his darkness consume him.
Appearance: Mildly albinistic. Has silver hair, and his irises are red - the color of his blood showing through.
Ronnel is tall and lean, and has a honed physique. He has a myraid of scars littering his pale skin - from years of experiments and torture. He does his best to keep these scars covered up, as he feels they aggravate concern in people. The worst scar is a one directly in the middle of his chest, and his back. It looks like exactly what it is - something with a massive blade or claw piercing straight through his chest, nearly bisecting him.
One interesting note is his silver hair. While it is silver in his base state, it tends to shift and change whenever he takes on a ‘demon’, becoming a color matching the primary element of whatever he has Assumed. It is an odd trait, and one he doesn’t always realize has happened.
Skills:
Thievery: Ronnel spent several years practicing as a thief, focusing on pickpocketing and cat burglary. He knows how to identify easy marks, both in crowds and locations, and knows how to fence things.
Fighting: For several years, Ronnel was subjected to attempted mental conditioning, trying to make him into a pliable fighter, a soldier. The conditioning didn't take - but the training did. Skilled mostly with swords and knives, Ronnel knows how to wield a variety of personal melee weapons with a high level of proficiency.
Abilities:
[Locked Ability]
Born From Pain:
Ronnel was experimented on. This went beyond just trying to bring out his magic - the experimenters were also trying to create better soldiers, stronger, faster warriors to serve as their weapons. Ronnel bears the results of those experiments, as his body adjusts to what was done to him.
Enhanced Strength: [i]Ronnel Currently has 2x human strength in his natural state.i[/]
[End Locked Ability]
Breath of Wind:
One of Ronnel’s two innate abilities, this is the one he has used the longest and is most familiar with. He has an ability to take control of the air around him - in up to a five foot radius. When he does so, the temperature drops several degrees, a sign he is exerting his influence. Right now, aside from cooling the air, he has only one other power:
[Wind blades Locked]
Creating small blades of wind that are as strong as iron. He can use this ability three times per day, and can manipulate between one and three blades per use of the ability.
Assume the Facade:
Ronnel’s other innate ability. He can create ‘deals’ with non-corporeal entities, allowing them into his body to experience life and sensation. In exchange for letting them experience ‘the Real’ he gains partial access to their forms.
When Assuming a Facade, Ronnel loses access to Breath of the Wind and Born from Pain.
Current 'Deals':
VENTUS:
A ‘demon’ of wind. When Ronnel Assumes Ventus’ facade, he becomes - taller, wispier. His form becomes somewhat indeterminate, and his hair becomes a blue-green hue. His hair also starts to move back and forth under unseen winds - and his left arm becomes a deadly sharp whip.
Grants:
Partial immunity(25%?) to wind based attacks.
Increases damage(25%?) received from fire based attacks.
Increases speed to three times human normal.
Whip arm is as strong as ironl.
Facade can be assumed twice per day, and held for four posts. It takes a full post to Assume the Facade of Ventus, and another to release it.
Equipment/Weapons:
Iron Falchion:
A short, simple curved blade, wide and strong. Made of iron - this is a common weapon for desert warriors. ‘
Theme Song:
To be determined. Possibilities: They Need a Monster; Monster
