Post by Mitzer on May 10, 2008 13:15:35 GMT -5
Name: Mitzer
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Corner Preferance: No Preference
Age: Ageless, appears to be around 17.
Description: Mitzer is short and sleek in appearance. He has soft boyish features, and a young appearance. From spending years growing up in the desert his skin has grown a deepened almond hue and his hair from genetics is a soft white. He is strong, and appears to be at the age of 17.
Personality: Mitzer is tormented. His age is retarded to the point of a 17 year old. He grew up in a tribe of other wild men such as he, the Okar tribe run by a powerful dark mage Makau. They were warriors, instructed and taught at a young age to thrive and survive in a violent world. He is generally untrusting of other people and creatures. He is withdrawn and broken since being separated from his tribe. However, he had tried to do something that under their law was unforgivable. At the young age of around 17 his mother passed away and Mitzer attempted to study and use magics to try and bring her back. Whether it was actually possible or not was no matter to him. The spell he conjured left her corpse mangled and torn. Her blood and guts splattered all over their sacred temple. That day a part of him seemed to die. His strong kinship with his mother and his inability to rescue her from an untimely death left him devastated. She departed for the realm of the dead and his soul became tied to it and her. Often he is troubled with waking dillusions of her and other presences from the realm of the dead. There is no one to say his incite into that realm has any validity, it could simply be delusions from his growing madness. Over the years that passed since that day his madness grew. He began to insist that his soul was tied to the realm of the dead and that he owed a price for the crime he tried to commit in trying to revive his mother. He swears on this price and that one day it will consume him.
Mitzer also has great powers, however it is not in his nature to use them anymore. He often sees the magic as a curse and believes the more magic he uses the more he becomes tied to the world of the dead. So he often chooses not to utilize his powers. But surges of emotion have caused him to go off before. He is young relatively, and hasn't had the time to really master and control his magics, and no longer has the will to.
Skills: Since the day he tried to breathe life back into his mother he hasn't aged another minute. His features remain the same as they were on that day. He no longer ages, but this does not mean he isn't suseptable to death. Quite the contrary his madness makes it easier to die.
From his youth he retains the skills of a quick warrior and wields two daggers in combat. Each was a gift from his birth mother and father and he cherishes them to do his bidding.
A secret of his tribe, a magic running through their blood from father Makau is a power that enhances their speed and endurance in battle. It can lessen the effect of pain on their minds so that their broken bodies can continue to fight long after sustaining serious wounds. However, this can also take a large toll on their health even resulting in death if they are too careless with it. When this power becomes active, often Mitzer's naturally blue eyes turn an acidic yellow and grow slits much like a feline's eyes.
With the master of this skill and this rage, the powers Makau inherited can be honed to his advantage. At a time in his life Mitzer could find that he could shapeshift or grow fire from his hands, or generate powerful storms. However, it takes masterful devotion and many years to concur the mental barriers that prevent such powers from being released. Also, the use of these powers takes a heavy toll on the user and often result in great harm or even death.
Sample Post:
The youthful white haired boy made his way through the forest. He was clad in soft white furs that kept his body warm and protected. He was more accustomed to the desert from where he came, but he knew he could never go back.
He remembered that day so clearly in his mind, even now. How old was he now? How many birthdays had he spent alone? Countless. Perhaps 40, perhaps 50. He wasn't sure. It was hard to count the days and the years when he couldn't see the evidence of it passing on his features. He had no family, no tribe left for him to relate to anymore. He chose to live alone... But his loneliness had taken a toll on him. He suffered from the delusions of his past, growing more and more worn as the years went on.
Snap.
Mitzer's eyes darted to the left to see a small doe standing there in the brush. Mitzer was a hunter. He had grown better at using his magics for the sake of filling his belly, though he often regretted it. Now was one of those times where his stomach took top priority. He felt it rising up within him slowly as he stood their quietly. His lips curled back into a maddening silent snarl that he could only hear within his mind. His heart increased, his breathing became slow and deliberate. It was a rush. It felt good even. He slunk down close to the ground, being careful and quiet with all the grace of a hunting feline. In a quick motion he came to the animal, digging the two daggers into its side. The creature was young. Mitzer had no guilt for slaying the young, he needed the nutrients. Immediately Mitzer began to gorge. He tore out skin and flesh with his daggers and fingers and slipped the warm meat into his mouth. The taste of blood was maddening to him. He laughed and gorged as if this meal was the ultimate pleasure.
He collapsed onto his side suddenly, his eyes shifting from that maddening yellow to a soft terrified blue. He was.. only a child at heart. At that moment he felt a sickness. He felt a longing. "Mother..." He said softly. He could remember the flash of light, then waking up in the room covered in his mothers flesh and blood. Her head laying on the floor... her eyes open. The small creature winced and curled up in a ball. He felt sick.
His stomach emptied on the ground in front of him. The slimy mess he abandoned laying a few feet away, feeling his sides ache.
He could no longer live life like this...
Wild Eyed Poodle
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Corner Preferance: No Preference
Age: Ageless, appears to be around 17.
Description: Mitzer is short and sleek in appearance. He has soft boyish features, and a young appearance. From spending years growing up in the desert his skin has grown a deepened almond hue and his hair from genetics is a soft white. He is strong, and appears to be at the age of 17.
Personality: Mitzer is tormented. His age is retarded to the point of a 17 year old. He grew up in a tribe of other wild men such as he, the Okar tribe run by a powerful dark mage Makau. They were warriors, instructed and taught at a young age to thrive and survive in a violent world. He is generally untrusting of other people and creatures. He is withdrawn and broken since being separated from his tribe. However, he had tried to do something that under their law was unforgivable. At the young age of around 17 his mother passed away and Mitzer attempted to study and use magics to try and bring her back. Whether it was actually possible or not was no matter to him. The spell he conjured left her corpse mangled and torn. Her blood and guts splattered all over their sacred temple. That day a part of him seemed to die. His strong kinship with his mother and his inability to rescue her from an untimely death left him devastated. She departed for the realm of the dead and his soul became tied to it and her. Often he is troubled with waking dillusions of her and other presences from the realm of the dead. There is no one to say his incite into that realm has any validity, it could simply be delusions from his growing madness. Over the years that passed since that day his madness grew. He began to insist that his soul was tied to the realm of the dead and that he owed a price for the crime he tried to commit in trying to revive his mother. He swears on this price and that one day it will consume him.
Mitzer also has great powers, however it is not in his nature to use them anymore. He often sees the magic as a curse and believes the more magic he uses the more he becomes tied to the world of the dead. So he often chooses not to utilize his powers. But surges of emotion have caused him to go off before. He is young relatively, and hasn't had the time to really master and control his magics, and no longer has the will to.
Skills: Since the day he tried to breathe life back into his mother he hasn't aged another minute. His features remain the same as they were on that day. He no longer ages, but this does not mean he isn't suseptable to death. Quite the contrary his madness makes it easier to die.
From his youth he retains the skills of a quick warrior and wields two daggers in combat. Each was a gift from his birth mother and father and he cherishes them to do his bidding.
A secret of his tribe, a magic running through their blood from father Makau is a power that enhances their speed and endurance in battle. It can lessen the effect of pain on their minds so that their broken bodies can continue to fight long after sustaining serious wounds. However, this can also take a large toll on their health even resulting in death if they are too careless with it. When this power becomes active, often Mitzer's naturally blue eyes turn an acidic yellow and grow slits much like a feline's eyes.
With the master of this skill and this rage, the powers Makau inherited can be honed to his advantage. At a time in his life Mitzer could find that he could shapeshift or grow fire from his hands, or generate powerful storms. However, it takes masterful devotion and many years to concur the mental barriers that prevent such powers from being released. Also, the use of these powers takes a heavy toll on the user and often result in great harm or even death.
Sample Post:
The youthful white haired boy made his way through the forest. He was clad in soft white furs that kept his body warm and protected. He was more accustomed to the desert from where he came, but he knew he could never go back.
He remembered that day so clearly in his mind, even now. How old was he now? How many birthdays had he spent alone? Countless. Perhaps 40, perhaps 50. He wasn't sure. It was hard to count the days and the years when he couldn't see the evidence of it passing on his features. He had no family, no tribe left for him to relate to anymore. He chose to live alone... But his loneliness had taken a toll on him. He suffered from the delusions of his past, growing more and more worn as the years went on.
Snap.
Mitzer's eyes darted to the left to see a small doe standing there in the brush. Mitzer was a hunter. He had grown better at using his magics for the sake of filling his belly, though he often regretted it. Now was one of those times where his stomach took top priority. He felt it rising up within him slowly as he stood their quietly. His lips curled back into a maddening silent snarl that he could only hear within his mind. His heart increased, his breathing became slow and deliberate. It was a rush. It felt good even. He slunk down close to the ground, being careful and quiet with all the grace of a hunting feline. In a quick motion he came to the animal, digging the two daggers into its side. The creature was young. Mitzer had no guilt for slaying the young, he needed the nutrients. Immediately Mitzer began to gorge. He tore out skin and flesh with his daggers and fingers and slipped the warm meat into his mouth. The taste of blood was maddening to him. He laughed and gorged as if this meal was the ultimate pleasure.
He collapsed onto his side suddenly, his eyes shifting from that maddening yellow to a soft terrified blue. He was.. only a child at heart. At that moment he felt a sickness. He felt a longing. "Mother..." He said softly. He could remember the flash of light, then waking up in the room covered in his mothers flesh and blood. Her head laying on the floor... her eyes open. The small creature winced and curled up in a ball. He felt sick.
His stomach emptied on the ground in front of him. The slimy mess he abandoned laying a few feet away, feeling his sides ache.
He could no longer live life like this...
Wild Eyed Poodle
