We Despise The Wretched
11-09-10, 11:57 AM
I found this report before the place burned down, strangely untouched by the devastation... I'd always wondered what this son of a bitch was writing about me during our sessions.
Name: Trevor. Never did like the name... But whatever.
Age: About thirty. I hate this kind of shit.
Height/Weight/Build: Roughly 73" (6'1") tall, around 200lbs with robust stature; broad shoulders and firm posture would deem Trevor as one familiar with physical exercise.
Race: Appearing mostly human, Radasanthan, though a keen observer would speculate elven blood in a past generation. You'd be wrong.
Personality: Trevor seems to be a complete, self-loathing nihilist with bipolar, maybe even lighthearted, tendencies. A thick layer of melancholic, extremely thoughtful calmness acts as a cold-hearted shell. Not much of a talker... Though with closer inspection, and the more we talk, it isn't so much as a hatred for the world, as it is an apathy formed to protect oneself from further mental trauma. Digging through this man's psyche, however, has been like trying to break into a steel vault with a rusty spoon. So this is what he wrote about me. Strangely enough... I agree on some points.
Capabilities: My reports make mention of Trevor's past of espionage and mercenary work, though he claims he remembers little of it. He seems more cunning, resourceful, and intelligent than he lets on so I would not call it impossible. As well, his physical abilities are above average. I don't know what landed him as a patient in this secluded facility. I was telling the truth when I said I remember little before my stint at this place. Guess it matters little either way now though... It's left me with no path forward.
The rest of this just seems like bullshit... I won't even bother.
Appearance
Trevor's visage is usually unkempt. His dark brown hair is longer than normal and frizzy, as well as sporting thick natural curls. Similarly brown eyes hide beneath bushy brows and belie his dark and gloomy disposition with a hidden warmness. His face is rugged, often masked with a scowl or solemn expression, and is usually kept clean. He keeps a light full beard as decor, accentuating a solid jawline to give an appearance not necessarily handsome, but also not unappealing.
His muscular form, neither overly bulky or entirely lithe, denotes him as one who enjoys physical training over magical pursuits. This is complimented by a pair of large, callous hands, thick chest, broad back, formidable posture, and a quiet yet gritty and strong baritone voice. His preference for clothing generally stays along the lines of baggy and loose, yet comfy and durable as well as functional.
One distinguishing feature is a tattoo set in deep black in running down the inside of his right forearm, reading in arachic text "Death is the beginning".
Natural Abilities and Attributes (Multiplier number values equate to that of an average human.)
Strength - Encompassing weight capacity, lift capacity, physical force, and swinging speed (of most weapons). Trevor is very much so a physical combatant, and daily exercise has kept him in peak condition over the years. Yet there is always room to improve. (1.6)
Dexterity - Incorporating movement/running speed, hand-eye coordination, flexibility, and overall reflexes. While not having trained in this area specifically, Trevor is no stranger to limberness as it's required by most of his combat training. (1.3)
Mentality - Certainly not of poor education, Trevor is smart and resourceful, though not necessarily book-smart or intelligent as one would deem a more studious type such as a wizard. Still, he proves to be articulate and well-learned when he chooses. On the other hand, his apathy and bipolarity have made him aloof, making him not so wise. All in all, however, his general mentality may be considered above average.
Martial Arts - With little formal training, Trevor is left to his own devices when it comes to his martial arts training. This does not detract from his effectiveness, however. He has developed his own style that incorporates surprisingly fast and aggressive flurries of solidly practiced punches and kicks, favoring function over flourish. Practicing ground-work and mid-air combat is also commonplace for Trevor, instead of simply focusing on fighting with the intent that one and his opponent will always be standing. His hand-to-hand prowess is currently above average, though untamed.
Swordplay - Not particularly a swordsman, though Trevor has swung a blade in his day, preferring them over any other type of melee weapon. However, he does lack real training in the area and prefers to fight with martial arts, or throw the two into a mix of sword swings and hand-to-hand. Perhaps someday he will formally melt the two together into an art. Average.
"My Pain... My Friend" - Simply put, Trevor's pain threshold. Despite his lack of mental control, controlling his body is second-nature. He treats pain as an ally, a driving force if you will. Not immune to it necessarily, but he has taught himself to simply wince at a wound that would cripple a normal man in tears. This does not, however, mean that an injury such as a broken bone can be shrugged off as if it didn't happen. A broken kneecap will still fell the man, he just won't cry and bitch about it. This ability is in no way magical...
Supernatural Abilities and Attributes
None.
Equipment/Clothing
Iron Longsword - Of simplest design. Trevor managed to find this shoddy sword off of a dead guardsman upon his "escape" of the institution he was being held captive at. It is rusting a little, usually dangling free at his waist without a sheath.
Patient's Clothing - An outfit given to him after having all of his previous possessions taken away, simply consisting of a, now tattered, thick cloth shirt, and pants. Both morbidly black.
A Hooded Cloak - A long cloak of cloth with a low-hanging hood. Of forest green color, an emblem stitched with black thread on the back depicting a symbol similar to a dagger atop a fist. Trevor "stole" it from one of the deceased psychologists from the Facility.
Name: Trevor. Never did like the name... But whatever.
Age: About thirty. I hate this kind of shit.
Height/Weight/Build: Roughly 73" (6'1") tall, around 200lbs with robust stature; broad shoulders and firm posture would deem Trevor as one familiar with physical exercise.
Race: Appearing mostly human, Radasanthan, though a keen observer would speculate elven blood in a past generation. You'd be wrong.
Personality: Trevor seems to be a complete, self-loathing nihilist with bipolar, maybe even lighthearted, tendencies. A thick layer of melancholic, extremely thoughtful calmness acts as a cold-hearted shell. Not much of a talker... Though with closer inspection, and the more we talk, it isn't so much as a hatred for the world, as it is an apathy formed to protect oneself from further mental trauma. Digging through this man's psyche, however, has been like trying to break into a steel vault with a rusty spoon. So this is what he wrote about me. Strangely enough... I agree on some points.
Capabilities: My reports make mention of Trevor's past of espionage and mercenary work, though he claims he remembers little of it. He seems more cunning, resourceful, and intelligent than he lets on so I would not call it impossible. As well, his physical abilities are above average. I don't know what landed him as a patient in this secluded facility. I was telling the truth when I said I remember little before my stint at this place. Guess it matters little either way now though... It's left me with no path forward.
The rest of this just seems like bullshit... I won't even bother.
Appearance
Trevor's visage is usually unkempt. His dark brown hair is longer than normal and frizzy, as well as sporting thick natural curls. Similarly brown eyes hide beneath bushy brows and belie his dark and gloomy disposition with a hidden warmness. His face is rugged, often masked with a scowl or solemn expression, and is usually kept clean. He keeps a light full beard as decor, accentuating a solid jawline to give an appearance not necessarily handsome, but also not unappealing.
His muscular form, neither overly bulky or entirely lithe, denotes him as one who enjoys physical training over magical pursuits. This is complimented by a pair of large, callous hands, thick chest, broad back, formidable posture, and a quiet yet gritty and strong baritone voice. His preference for clothing generally stays along the lines of baggy and loose, yet comfy and durable as well as functional.
One distinguishing feature is a tattoo set in deep black in running down the inside of his right forearm, reading in arachic text "Death is the beginning".
Natural Abilities and Attributes (Multiplier number values equate to that of an average human.)
Strength - Encompassing weight capacity, lift capacity, physical force, and swinging speed (of most weapons). Trevor is very much so a physical combatant, and daily exercise has kept him in peak condition over the years. Yet there is always room to improve. (1.6)
Dexterity - Incorporating movement/running speed, hand-eye coordination, flexibility, and overall reflexes. While not having trained in this area specifically, Trevor is no stranger to limberness as it's required by most of his combat training. (1.3)
Mentality - Certainly not of poor education, Trevor is smart and resourceful, though not necessarily book-smart or intelligent as one would deem a more studious type such as a wizard. Still, he proves to be articulate and well-learned when he chooses. On the other hand, his apathy and bipolarity have made him aloof, making him not so wise. All in all, however, his general mentality may be considered above average.
Martial Arts - With little formal training, Trevor is left to his own devices when it comes to his martial arts training. This does not detract from his effectiveness, however. He has developed his own style that incorporates surprisingly fast and aggressive flurries of solidly practiced punches and kicks, favoring function over flourish. Practicing ground-work and mid-air combat is also commonplace for Trevor, instead of simply focusing on fighting with the intent that one and his opponent will always be standing. His hand-to-hand prowess is currently above average, though untamed.
Swordplay - Not particularly a swordsman, though Trevor has swung a blade in his day, preferring them over any other type of melee weapon. However, he does lack real training in the area and prefers to fight with martial arts, or throw the two into a mix of sword swings and hand-to-hand. Perhaps someday he will formally melt the two together into an art. Average.
"My Pain... My Friend" - Simply put, Trevor's pain threshold. Despite his lack of mental control, controlling his body is second-nature. He treats pain as an ally, a driving force if you will. Not immune to it necessarily, but he has taught himself to simply wince at a wound that would cripple a normal man in tears. This does not, however, mean that an injury such as a broken bone can be shrugged off as if it didn't happen. A broken kneecap will still fell the man, he just won't cry and bitch about it. This ability is in no way magical...
Supernatural Abilities and Attributes
None.
Equipment/Clothing
Iron Longsword - Of simplest design. Trevor managed to find this shoddy sword off of a dead guardsman upon his "escape" of the institution he was being held captive at. It is rusting a little, usually dangling free at his waist without a sheath.
Patient's Clothing - An outfit given to him after having all of his previous possessions taken away, simply consisting of a, now tattered, thick cloth shirt, and pants. Both morbidly black.
A Hooded Cloak - A long cloak of cloth with a low-hanging hood. Of forest green color, an emblem stitched with black thread on the back depicting a symbol similar to a dagger atop a fist. Trevor "stole" it from one of the deceased psychologists from the Facility.