Knave
12-27-08, 09:03 PM
Name: Lawrence Spades AKA Squeaky
Age: 25
Race: Hostis humani generis : A being who has been changed to serve an eldritch monster of unknown species. He remains mostly human aside from a few base changes and exists to sell humanity short. The most apparent change is the fact that he does not sleep, he merely waits. The name literally means, ENEMY OF ALL MANKIND.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Height: 6’11
Weight: 178 lbs
He has noticeably sharp and clean cut features, what one would envision a cold hearted accountant to look like. His hair is slicked and greased down, even the eyebrows are firmly set in place. Lawrence’s eyes are beady and yellow gleaming with the scheming intelligence of a man who has not good intention in his mind. The jaw line and cheek bones are defined. Color wise he is noticeably dark.
Physically he is not very imposing possessing a mild mannered form that hides his strength. The arms and legs are fairly long and his torso is one of the more average variety appearing to be without definition while at the same time unimaginably solid. A knife wound in his right hand has made the use of it very painful.
*Occupation: Caretaker/Specie Traitor/Smuggler/Mass Murderer/Charity Worker/Cultist/Mover and Shaker/Thief/Good Samaritan/Bad Samaritan/Actor
*Personality: Ever ambitious and phasing between methodical and manic he can be a very dangerous individual especially with his very hands on approach to life. He has no major goals beyond living and feeding the inhuman power beneath the waves.
Squeaky fears death to an extreme and more than once proclaims that he will live forever, this very well may be the case ash e has ceased to age since the day he was devoured. It is not something that interferes with his ability to take the most unsavory jobs, but it does fill him with a strange amount of physical energy to be terrified. Not much needs to be said about what happens when Squeaky’s fears come into play simply that someone is going to get stabbed. He also fears twitchy things, making eye contact is simply something he rarely does, and sea food. A love for perfection and symmetry has left him with something of a habitual desire to be perfectly clean and his surroundings immaculate.
A man with high ambitions, but little hopes he has a cynical look on life and a dark intentions for the future. Squeaky views being the means to his young master’s end as wicked, an unforgivable sin, he lets go and moves on about his business. Ever careful and sure he takes careful his victories in all affairs bypassing tact and guile with murderous intent and actions.
As a hobby Lawrence is quite fond of weapons and collects them. He also sings opera fairly well until he knows someone is listening, his throat then promptly closes up. He likes to ride horses, but by habit is fairly reckless and a danger to himself and everyone within galloping distance.
In Public he is a lackadaisical type of person half focused on the goal as well as how he gets there. As a public speaker he is very compelling and is rarely disbelieved. Efficient, while acting on a level that rarely leaves room for excessive foolishness he is always fairly calm. One thing about him is obvious, he is always paying attention, never openly given to reminiscing or acting in a counter productive manner. Squeaky learns as much about everyone as possible. When in danger or with weapon in hand he is much more… animated. Uncontrollably prone to monologue, blade happy, and filled with joyous laughter. There is no point where he will a man however, souls are precious things, too precious to let float away.
In response to his mistress he is overly kind, even fussy over her meals and works to ensure she gets the best. This is odd as she is extremely cold toward her servant.
In private deep in the darkness of his mind he is megalomaniacal, willful, persistent and a perfectionist. Has a strange sense of humor in development.
Appearance: Describe your character as he or she would first appear to someone else.
History:
He was born for the arts, both the part he played before and after his remaking in his master’s image. Teresa, Fredric, his parents, born poor, propagating the poor, and raising their children in poverty. They lived, they loved, they grew close as a family and by disease thinned and grew apart. Louise, Lawrence, Frederica found themselves alone as their parents succumbed to the Consumption of the times and only a few family to care for them they were divided, Lawrence and Louise to their mother’s mother and Frederica to their aunt.
Roberta Spades. She ran a small acting company under her deceased husbands name but times being as they were it was a rag tag group of hooligans and misfits claiming to perform. Nearly thirteen at the time the boys were put to work to which Lawrence showed his talent, but his brother… They played in parts, together and apart as friends, enemies, soldiers and rivals for a town with little love for the art, but for a break in their lives. These were happy and somewhat remarkably hungry days. They were often without incident except for one moment in their many duels, where Lawrence’s hand was run through on the point of his brother’s sword. It healed poorly, almost crippling in the use of his fingers.
It was the end for nothing, but Louise’s acting career by his and his domineering and willful grandmother. He joined the militant army of Fallien and became what he and his brother jokingly referred to as “a real hard man.” It was in this way that they saw each other rarely, but kept each other in mind. The world turned and Lawrence played on its stage, his hand pained him and made him unfit for acting in all but the most menial tasks. The money ran dry and actors forced to work for their bread. It was a dark day to discover himself eighteen with no trade or work to set himself to. What else was there, but crime? It was the cornered final solution, one that paid well for all its ludicrous risks.
By way of a friend he became a smuggler sailing the waters with illicit cargo from the lord’s sweat mercies to those seeking easy passage across the borders. These were not happy times and Lawrence soon doubted they would ever come, as his less than reputable friends navigated the waters, their hands never far from their weapons in the silence of night. It was by luck alone they were not arrested and jailed for their crimes, be they from smuggling to borderline treason.
In retrospect, and all things in clear view, things could have been much worse. A night three years ago they had sailed down the river into the bay to meet a ship not yet ready for port. The boxes lowered into their schooner were small and threats in idle chatter of how men’s were nothing to their priceless cargo. Should have been simple delivery from there. Sadly, no. The sea heaved. The ocean seemed to rise in the distance and draw near at speeds that nothing so big should have. Tentacles, paws, it was a blur of blue flesh and teeth before each and every man was dragged below ship and all.
They awoke shivering in the darkness only the dirt and stone walls apparent. It was apparent that something else was their dominating the darkness with its presence. It was round by all guesses, warm too and helped to stave off the cold. Then it broke, at first slowly startling all then finally free it released the squelch of a newborn monster. What followed was a long and drawn out meal. It was the size of a man to be sure and its eyes were seen as pits of even deeper black. It took one of the sixteen and ate him with fresh teeth. They fought back of course, but there were no weapons and their fists proved merely an annoyance.
Every man that day perished. All but Lawrence who was forced to live. It bonded with him. It worked its magic and bits of its power beneath his skin and when it was done he was a new man. Egrim’saltchek was its name and its mother had come from the stars to leave her offspring. There Squeaky, as his mistress dubbed him, found himself wrapped in the reproductive cycle of a being who thought so little of mankind. He became a lure, for what his new mistress’s desired most were souls. Not immortal, but an unchanging nurse maid.
He has done many things, and has recently begun infiltrating any establishment with power. All to gather increasing numbers of people for his mistress.
Skills:
Speech: The way he sculpts his words is a magic in itself. He conveys reason and twists logic to a breaking point. If left to talk he can cause people to believe his words and the only defense is to be deaf, to ignore him with all your power, or to shut him up.
Master of Disguise: With much, albeit painful, concentration he shifts the structure of his body. He can change the the color of his eyes, warp the bones bemneath his flesh, grow between eight feet and 6 in height. Without much effort he can impersonate nearlly any person he chooses or become someone entirely new.
Danger, Low Voltage: There have been many changes to his body the most prevalent being the electrical voltage he can generate in his hands. By no means powerful enough to fling lightning from his palms but more than enough to cause horrible spasms in the bodies of others. Intense, but relatively low discharge.
Strength: Far more than anyone man should have, but not to the point of the superhuman. Merely gracing its borders. The muscles beneath his flesh seem to offer up some protection showing his body to be tougher than the average man. Apparently 1.5 times stronger than a human.
His Senses: They are preternatural, he sees the distance, feels the wind, smells all, and hears nearly all. This is almost to the point of oversensitivity making it a serious weakness and advantage.
Venom: His saliva is highly toxic to any living being causing a blistering and burning in humans, when injected via “La Kiss” or just plain biting, it grows in potency as he levels @-@ Never done a stat based site before. A neurotoxin that erodes the flesh as it pumps through the blood. Multiple bites have been shown to cause massive organ failure. This of course requires him to get extremely close and even put his neck on the line.
Equipment
A minister’s robes: Ordained in whites and reds he appears as a high member of a nondescript religion. This is mostly an arrangement of rich colors and rare fabrics always changing to avoid being recognized. The symbols he wears are like wise always shifting. They are always worn in a fashion that is easy to change or even strip off instantly should he need to flee.
White mask: A white face worn over his own. Its eyes are oddly emotive when worn seeming to widen and narrow with emotion and the lips smile kindly or draw back into a yellow toothed scowl. it’s a fine piece and made to last.
Chain mail: Rings of steel enclose his chest… and extend to his elbows and knees. Not the best armor but effective against most bladed weapons.
Tent: A large tarp and poles that fit together to cast it up and over. Ideal for those rainy nights or when those abominable stares glare down too brightly.
Black Mesa: A long and slightly tapered blade extremely sharp. It is top of the line from Lura a master piece in its lethal simplicity. One should keep in mind that it corrupts blood into poison that breaks down cell tissue. Healing is by no means quick or painless. Where he keeps this is unknown to most, when needed it is always in his hands, however. (Locked till later levels)
Camouflage: Standard pants and shirt covered in splashes of black and dark green. In the light of day it is often plain and common but in the darkness and at a distance he becomes more and more a blur. Indeed striking him down or even seeing him can be a problem depending on circumstances.
Massive Pack: A bag aptly named and large enough to stagger normal men. It holds a surplus of money, articles of clothing. Technically a weapon in its own right when swung with enough force though unwieldy. Normal people would worry about theft, but Lawrence knows better. Much of the money collected here belongs to the dead.
Familiar:
Egr’msatchek: That monster from so long ago has grown quite large, but still needs to feed before it can leave this forsaken world. Capable of much she sleeps beneath the waves eagerly waiting for its next meal. In the mean time she dreams are clairvoyant and it watches this earth constantly an eye always on his faithful servant. Though it has some affection it will rarely come to his aid simply thinking of him as entertainingly expendable. . To describe her is all her magnificence is impossible the sheer scope of it all being too much, rather she is seen in only the closest details. Her deft, sinuous reaching tentacles are beyond compare. Egr’msatchek’s many mouths are ringed with teeth to shame the finest steel. Nearly a dozen glowing yellow eyes watch the world unblinking. To be perfectly clear, Lawrence is her familiar
Age: 25
Race: Hostis humani generis : A being who has been changed to serve an eldritch monster of unknown species. He remains mostly human aside from a few base changes and exists to sell humanity short. The most apparent change is the fact that he does not sleep, he merely waits. The name literally means, ENEMY OF ALL MANKIND.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Height: 6’11
Weight: 178 lbs
He has noticeably sharp and clean cut features, what one would envision a cold hearted accountant to look like. His hair is slicked and greased down, even the eyebrows are firmly set in place. Lawrence’s eyes are beady and yellow gleaming with the scheming intelligence of a man who has not good intention in his mind. The jaw line and cheek bones are defined. Color wise he is noticeably dark.
Physically he is not very imposing possessing a mild mannered form that hides his strength. The arms and legs are fairly long and his torso is one of the more average variety appearing to be without definition while at the same time unimaginably solid. A knife wound in his right hand has made the use of it very painful.
*Occupation: Caretaker/Specie Traitor/Smuggler/Mass Murderer/Charity Worker/Cultist/Mover and Shaker/Thief/Good Samaritan/Bad Samaritan/Actor
*Personality: Ever ambitious and phasing between methodical and manic he can be a very dangerous individual especially with his very hands on approach to life. He has no major goals beyond living and feeding the inhuman power beneath the waves.
Squeaky fears death to an extreme and more than once proclaims that he will live forever, this very well may be the case ash e has ceased to age since the day he was devoured. It is not something that interferes with his ability to take the most unsavory jobs, but it does fill him with a strange amount of physical energy to be terrified. Not much needs to be said about what happens when Squeaky’s fears come into play simply that someone is going to get stabbed. He also fears twitchy things, making eye contact is simply something he rarely does, and sea food. A love for perfection and symmetry has left him with something of a habitual desire to be perfectly clean and his surroundings immaculate.
A man with high ambitions, but little hopes he has a cynical look on life and a dark intentions for the future. Squeaky views being the means to his young master’s end as wicked, an unforgivable sin, he lets go and moves on about his business. Ever careful and sure he takes careful his victories in all affairs bypassing tact and guile with murderous intent and actions.
As a hobby Lawrence is quite fond of weapons and collects them. He also sings opera fairly well until he knows someone is listening, his throat then promptly closes up. He likes to ride horses, but by habit is fairly reckless and a danger to himself and everyone within galloping distance.
In Public he is a lackadaisical type of person half focused on the goal as well as how he gets there. As a public speaker he is very compelling and is rarely disbelieved. Efficient, while acting on a level that rarely leaves room for excessive foolishness he is always fairly calm. One thing about him is obvious, he is always paying attention, never openly given to reminiscing or acting in a counter productive manner. Squeaky learns as much about everyone as possible. When in danger or with weapon in hand he is much more… animated. Uncontrollably prone to monologue, blade happy, and filled with joyous laughter. There is no point where he will a man however, souls are precious things, too precious to let float away.
In response to his mistress he is overly kind, even fussy over her meals and works to ensure she gets the best. This is odd as she is extremely cold toward her servant.
In private deep in the darkness of his mind he is megalomaniacal, willful, persistent and a perfectionist. Has a strange sense of humor in development.
Appearance: Describe your character as he or she would first appear to someone else.
History:
He was born for the arts, both the part he played before and after his remaking in his master’s image. Teresa, Fredric, his parents, born poor, propagating the poor, and raising their children in poverty. They lived, they loved, they grew close as a family and by disease thinned and grew apart. Louise, Lawrence, Frederica found themselves alone as their parents succumbed to the Consumption of the times and only a few family to care for them they were divided, Lawrence and Louise to their mother’s mother and Frederica to their aunt.
Roberta Spades. She ran a small acting company under her deceased husbands name but times being as they were it was a rag tag group of hooligans and misfits claiming to perform. Nearly thirteen at the time the boys were put to work to which Lawrence showed his talent, but his brother… They played in parts, together and apart as friends, enemies, soldiers and rivals for a town with little love for the art, but for a break in their lives. These were happy and somewhat remarkably hungry days. They were often without incident except for one moment in their many duels, where Lawrence’s hand was run through on the point of his brother’s sword. It healed poorly, almost crippling in the use of his fingers.
It was the end for nothing, but Louise’s acting career by his and his domineering and willful grandmother. He joined the militant army of Fallien and became what he and his brother jokingly referred to as “a real hard man.” It was in this way that they saw each other rarely, but kept each other in mind. The world turned and Lawrence played on its stage, his hand pained him and made him unfit for acting in all but the most menial tasks. The money ran dry and actors forced to work for their bread. It was a dark day to discover himself eighteen with no trade or work to set himself to. What else was there, but crime? It was the cornered final solution, one that paid well for all its ludicrous risks.
By way of a friend he became a smuggler sailing the waters with illicit cargo from the lord’s sweat mercies to those seeking easy passage across the borders. These were not happy times and Lawrence soon doubted they would ever come, as his less than reputable friends navigated the waters, their hands never far from their weapons in the silence of night. It was by luck alone they were not arrested and jailed for their crimes, be they from smuggling to borderline treason.
In retrospect, and all things in clear view, things could have been much worse. A night three years ago they had sailed down the river into the bay to meet a ship not yet ready for port. The boxes lowered into their schooner were small and threats in idle chatter of how men’s were nothing to their priceless cargo. Should have been simple delivery from there. Sadly, no. The sea heaved. The ocean seemed to rise in the distance and draw near at speeds that nothing so big should have. Tentacles, paws, it was a blur of blue flesh and teeth before each and every man was dragged below ship and all.
They awoke shivering in the darkness only the dirt and stone walls apparent. It was apparent that something else was their dominating the darkness with its presence. It was round by all guesses, warm too and helped to stave off the cold. Then it broke, at first slowly startling all then finally free it released the squelch of a newborn monster. What followed was a long and drawn out meal. It was the size of a man to be sure and its eyes were seen as pits of even deeper black. It took one of the sixteen and ate him with fresh teeth. They fought back of course, but there were no weapons and their fists proved merely an annoyance.
Every man that day perished. All but Lawrence who was forced to live. It bonded with him. It worked its magic and bits of its power beneath his skin and when it was done he was a new man. Egrim’saltchek was its name and its mother had come from the stars to leave her offspring. There Squeaky, as his mistress dubbed him, found himself wrapped in the reproductive cycle of a being who thought so little of mankind. He became a lure, for what his new mistress’s desired most were souls. Not immortal, but an unchanging nurse maid.
He has done many things, and has recently begun infiltrating any establishment with power. All to gather increasing numbers of people for his mistress.
Skills:
Speech: The way he sculpts his words is a magic in itself. He conveys reason and twists logic to a breaking point. If left to talk he can cause people to believe his words and the only defense is to be deaf, to ignore him with all your power, or to shut him up.
Master of Disguise: With much, albeit painful, concentration he shifts the structure of his body. He can change the the color of his eyes, warp the bones bemneath his flesh, grow between eight feet and 6 in height. Without much effort he can impersonate nearlly any person he chooses or become someone entirely new.
Danger, Low Voltage: There have been many changes to his body the most prevalent being the electrical voltage he can generate in his hands. By no means powerful enough to fling lightning from his palms but more than enough to cause horrible spasms in the bodies of others. Intense, but relatively low discharge.
Strength: Far more than anyone man should have, but not to the point of the superhuman. Merely gracing its borders. The muscles beneath his flesh seem to offer up some protection showing his body to be tougher than the average man. Apparently 1.5 times stronger than a human.
His Senses: They are preternatural, he sees the distance, feels the wind, smells all, and hears nearly all. This is almost to the point of oversensitivity making it a serious weakness and advantage.
Venom: His saliva is highly toxic to any living being causing a blistering and burning in humans, when injected via “La Kiss” or just plain biting, it grows in potency as he levels @-@ Never done a stat based site before. A neurotoxin that erodes the flesh as it pumps through the blood. Multiple bites have been shown to cause massive organ failure. This of course requires him to get extremely close and even put his neck on the line.
Equipment
A minister’s robes: Ordained in whites and reds he appears as a high member of a nondescript religion. This is mostly an arrangement of rich colors and rare fabrics always changing to avoid being recognized. The symbols he wears are like wise always shifting. They are always worn in a fashion that is easy to change or even strip off instantly should he need to flee.
White mask: A white face worn over his own. Its eyes are oddly emotive when worn seeming to widen and narrow with emotion and the lips smile kindly or draw back into a yellow toothed scowl. it’s a fine piece and made to last.
Chain mail: Rings of steel enclose his chest… and extend to his elbows and knees. Not the best armor but effective against most bladed weapons.
Tent: A large tarp and poles that fit together to cast it up and over. Ideal for those rainy nights or when those abominable stares glare down too brightly.
Black Mesa: A long and slightly tapered blade extremely sharp. It is top of the line from Lura a master piece in its lethal simplicity. One should keep in mind that it corrupts blood into poison that breaks down cell tissue. Healing is by no means quick or painless. Where he keeps this is unknown to most, when needed it is always in his hands, however. (Locked till later levels)
Camouflage: Standard pants and shirt covered in splashes of black and dark green. In the light of day it is often plain and common but in the darkness and at a distance he becomes more and more a blur. Indeed striking him down or even seeing him can be a problem depending on circumstances.
Massive Pack: A bag aptly named and large enough to stagger normal men. It holds a surplus of money, articles of clothing. Technically a weapon in its own right when swung with enough force though unwieldy. Normal people would worry about theft, but Lawrence knows better. Much of the money collected here belongs to the dead.
Familiar:
Egr’msatchek: That monster from so long ago has grown quite large, but still needs to feed before it can leave this forsaken world. Capable of much she sleeps beneath the waves eagerly waiting for its next meal. In the mean time she dreams are clairvoyant and it watches this earth constantly an eye always on his faithful servant. Though it has some affection it will rarely come to his aid simply thinking of him as entertainingly expendable. . To describe her is all her magnificence is impossible the sheer scope of it all being too much, rather she is seen in only the closest details. Her deft, sinuous reaching tentacles are beyond compare. Egr’msatchek’s many mouths are ringed with teeth to shame the finest steel. Nearly a dozen glowing yellow eyes watch the world unblinking. To be perfectly clear, Lawrence is her familiar