AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jul 2, 2019 4:14:06 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g “Razivia,” when he spoke the name, another voice seemed to mock him. It was something he decided to ignore as anything acknowledging the new voice would only encourage worse things to happen. Mordred took note of his other wounds closing up, thanks to the combination of his magic and Razivia’s handiwork. As he looked around again, he finally gathered fully what she was about. He had disturbed the sanctity of her workplace, somewhere that she had put all her efforts into. He could see it in the works of magnificent art around him, the clothing that she left many hours of her life in. His features softened upon realizing that.
Naming himself after what the people called him may have incited panic, he thought. He didn’t need her to run out into the street, potentially attracting Council cretins. Even worse, he couldn’t possibly risk another encounter with--
There. Mordred saw her. Darting around the corners of the household at any place that Mordred’s eyes would fall on. No reaction came from the Grimm Troupe leader, instead opting to return his focus to what was important. A pinprick brought him back to the life-saving efforts Razivia was committing. At this point, he was going to be fine, but she wasn’t keen on his abilities. To which, Mordred blinked, recalling a time when he may have known someone that considerate. For whatever purpose, she had looked past the tattoos and the smell of bloodlust to aid him in his time of need.
So what did it matter if she knew his name?
“Mordred,” he said, as she completed on another stitch, “and I’m sorry.”
“For…” he had to get used to speaking again. When he attempted, he saw what he did earlier. A woman that traversed Razivia’s shop with a teasing frolic. The sight was enough to make Mordred stop in his place. He watched as black locks faded behind a door. Once she was gone again, Mordred tried to speak once more, clearing his throat.
“For all of this.”
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 28, 2019 1:20:34 GMT
Myria of Blades
As confirmed by Papa Aether, Glamour Magic exists. So it's possible that Mordred just applies some (possibly by Myria's request). I think we can start with somewhere like the Great Bazaar or the Colosseum. Really, the two hanging out would be a good place to start before heading straight into the more gruesome things we both know they do. In the more light-hearted thread, it could be them speaking on their different viewpoints since they're both intrigued by the other's.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 21, 2019 3:44:28 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g A fight.
A fight that led to the current circumstances in which Razivia and Mordred met. There weren’t many words shared between them, outside of what she originally said. Fortunately, it wasn’t needed--Mordred could tell her that he wasn’t much of a talker. The joke might not have gone over too well, and he ran the risk of going under. Mordred rested his head back on the table, relaxing for her to do her work. He didn’t make a peep or recoil at any of the punctures. It was his fault, really. He was weak for one moment, and it allowed the enemy to do the damage that Raz now had to adhere to.
Mordred spent the time reflecting on the mistakes he made during the battle. His opponent was rabid, but he left them as injured as he was. If he knew them as well as his memory pieced together, then they would be fine. As Razivia finished on one major wound, Mordred’s magic began to take hold. Flesh began to intertwine with one another, grasping each other in a loving embrace. Mordred let a low groan at the feeling, knowing that the wound still had to heal over time. Razivia was doing a wonderful job with little preparation that she had.
As he studied her, he realized the awful irony. A person dedicated to ending the lives of others in the most artistic of ways was being treated by someone entirely unknown. Fate must have had found humor in his condition. Yet, Mordred himself found beauty in the matter. He was certain of it by the way that Razivia pushed through the carnage. She was focused on saving Mordred but she must have known the pain that she imparted onto the man. It was a duality that Mordred ate up, to the point of even letting a small smirk break through his stoic features.
It was going to be okay now.
He was in good hands.
It was now a matter of figuring out who she was. As he laid there, his vision inverted, he tried to study the surroundings more. She was a tailor, obviously, but who was she? A name would be nice, in order to properly thank her. He found no conclusive evidence to the existence of a name, which in some places wasn’t uncommon. Nevertheless, he came to another thought as Razivia made another pinprick in his anatomy. He took a soft breath, one barely audible but all too important.
“What is your name?” came a voice that wasn’t used too often anymore.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 21, 2019 0:56:24 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g Mordred looked at Blue finish its meal with the efficiency that was almost breathtaking to witness. Panning away from the sight, Mordred saw a dismembered arm laying on the ground. With a head tilt, he noted that Blue was a tad messy or just missed the piece. Meanwhile in the background, Blue swallowed down another body, this time with a little more playfulness in the act. Mordred scanned the area, seeing that the prey was getting further away. Or at least, that’s what they believed.
Blue approached Mordred, bouncing up and down. Mordred smiled at the slime and offered the arm to his ally. The interaction was cut short by Cassie’s call. Letting go of the arm for Blue to do what it wished, Mordred turned his attention to the facts spoken to him. Running was only a temporary solution, Mordred thought as he came close to Cassie. He merely gave her a look, a nod, and took off towards the escapees.
He didn’t seem to mind that he failed to answer Cassie’s answer directly. For the most part, Blue would handle a lot of what went on anyway.
Vaulting over canopy and vines, Mordred began his hunt of the people who thought they had a chance. The only thing they had to their name was how grisly their deaths would be. Whatever tied them to the mortal world would be gone before they know it. They saw the black marking inching towards them, taunting them with the expectations of their demise. One man tripped, but Mordred left him behind. Honestly, it was worse luck for that to happen.
Cassie wasn’t as impatient as Mordred was when it came to hurting people.
Mordred leaped over the fallen man, giving him temporary peace. Terror filled the newly developed feeling as the Grimm Troupe leader pounced on one of the two remaining people. One blade in the jugular to silence a scream but the other one went through the back of the skull for other purposes. Mordred tilted his head, contemplating what to do next with his art piece. A quick twist to turn the head backward did the trick. What a lovely sight left for anyone straying nearby. His eyes snapped onto the other coward; he must have had the ruby.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 13, 2019 2:00:54 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g Mordred counted how many people that Blue managed to kill. Twenty men were engaged in the affairs of thievery, but the black Kavus tore through six of them with ease. The second blow delivered killed two more. The amount of screams were not what Mordred expected. Truly, he thought that they would stay firm against what appeared. They had the appropriate numbers to handle such a monstrosity. They even had the experience already. It was a team of thirty when they were attacked by another Kavus, but they killed it with relative grace after they stabilized. They must have been fatigued, took a relaxing breath, and were forced back into their defenses. It was a futile effort, to start with. Cassie's performance had done a good job of enhancing the disruption of their attack.
Eyes fell on the first escapee, one of the employers. Rushing off into the brush, abandoning all that came with him, the runner had something clutched under his arm. Mordred knew that Cassie would see him and she would do her part there. No, Mordred's sight lingered onto the stragglers starting to wane away from the combat. Perhaps they noticed how their magic and weapons didn't do anything to stop the rampage. They could have finally felt the fear settle in their head, convincing them that this was a fight that they couldn't win. In any case, they were strategically far enough away for Mordred to enact his part of the operation. With a long release of air, so did Mordred unleash the first part of his magic.
Like a snake winding down its place on the tree, black markings made their way down onto the ground. It felt the heat of its victims growing closer to them. One man stopped, stepping onto the magical markings. He regretted looking down, knowing that something unfamiliar was there to greet him. The Kavus wasn't approaching him, so he had the opportunity--
His throat was sliced open upon him blinking.
Mordred descended on the mass of people, staring mostly at the Kavus. This wasn't the first time that Blue was before Mordred, doing something absolutely beautiful. Mordred twirled his two daggers around, letting blood splash against anyone nearby. They had only enough time to stare at Mordred, and one of them didn't even get to have that for too long. Mordred stole his vision from him with a dash of his blade. The wound was deep enough to end the man's suffering, but it wasn't the customary method that Mordred would have utilized. No, it was a waste of good time to kill these fools so quickly.
For Mordred, the targets around him had to be slain quickly.
But the one man trying to scramble to his feet, one of the original thieves?
Oh, there was time for him.
So. Much. Time.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 3, 2019 20:55:15 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g We didn't see them coming.
My group was hired on by an even smaller group of sophisticated bandits. These people were elitists, but they paid well. They must have done something decent with their lives because they got this far. They had some shitty equipment and tactics but they had guts. Most of all, they had this red jewel. The leader of them, a man by the name of Femron, kept it close to him, saying that some powerful people would want a piece of it. I'm not sure what it does but I've worked in this business long enough to know that it was extremely valuable. It had a weird resonance that made my men and myself wonder about its origin, even a little.
We didn't see them coming.
What made me curious was these markings I kept seeing. We were close to Dunhold but far enough away that the jungle could play tricks. Eos is a strange world, I know, but these markings? They looked like lyrics. They made my skin crawl and I saw a man get mauled by one of those Kavus creatures.
Then she appeared. I didn't get a hard read on her but she looked too pristine. She wasn't meant to be here. Something wasn't right.
And the way my stomach turned? It meant something wasn't right in the slightest.
And I ran.
I would love to think that it was my intuition but it was probably fate kicking my ass to move. I told some people that this mission was a dud but only a few believed me. I was a senior member of the crew, so some people listened to me.
I dread to think what happened to everyone else there.
I know that they didn't make it out of that jungle alive.
- Bragg Redmarsh, former mercenary captain of the Skywatch Brigade
The request was wrong, Mordred noted as he overlooked from a treetop. The amount of trees was more than appropriate for what Mordred needed. The whole time tracking them was a matter of seeing them try to navigate around the foliage. Animals kept by due to the natural repellent they carried and their numbers. Suppressing his presence was easy to the group of arrogant employers and their lackadaisical bodyguards. There were ten guards making sure they were no openings on their sides, a leisurely defense tactic for those who believed nothing could go awry. Diving down could result five being killed immediately but it wouldn't be necessary.
At least not now.
Cassie would handle her part of the job. The fact that she would kept his magic from sparking out of control. It was the beauty of having a partner like Cassiopeia. The Ballad enjoyed watching how others engaged in the arts. So, Mordred waited, settling in to watch what would transpire. The eternal grin on his face tugged ever-so-slightly.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on Jun 3, 2019 18:37:34 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g Fainting with his eyes open, Mordred had to come back to reality. He crossed over for the briefest moment, teasing the boundary of death. An ethereal hand grasped onto him and dragged him back over to the living side of things. When he came to in that instant, he felt his new location--a workbench. His vision flickered, capturing sights of where he was in a desperate attempt to identify anything. The sound of someone busily making their way throughout the location. He saw numerous outfits, many were complete--others were in process. There was one haphazardly placed to the side away from the blood that was leaking out of Mordred’s body. He blinked steadily, surely getting his bearings but as slow as a person of his status could. Finally, he noticed that he was horizontal, not vertical.
Whoever was within the shop had brought him in. He could detect only one person, the tone of the breath told him that they were panicked. The source entered the room, carrying a bucket of water. Had she dragged him in by herself? Mordred didn’t linger too long on the thought. The world of Eos was full of strong people, and he noted the definition of her physique immediately. Before long, she was administering stitches into the wounds. As skin and flesh were pulled together with rudimentary string, the wounds began to close as per his regeneration. It was weak, faint, but it was working its process. Nevertheless, Mordred didn’t utter a word, a noise, anything in response to Razivia’s actions.
He never broke gaze with her, watching as she took aim at each puncture. At that moment, he felt okay. The pain of his wounds began to fade away in favor of the warmness returning to his body. His mind had begun to switch to its other process, realizing that registering the endless pain would only cause future problems. Though she needed to adhere to something else. Mordred reached and grabbed her wrist, making sure not to add force. He brought her hand up to another wound, one fixated around his lung. It looked shallow from the outside, but Mordred showed a glimpse of the deep agony that it caused him. It was much more fatal than the other ones that she was stitching up.
He let go of her wrist and laid back down on the table, his energy giving way. He had to wait to use his magic when she was done. Until then, he would have to stave off the hand of Death. A part of him wanted to laugh, but it might bother the woman helping him. There was a question tugging at the back of his mind. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t challenge fate while she was stitching him up, saving his life.
Why?
Mordred pondered, and it was the thing that helped him stay tied to the earth.
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on May 28, 2019 4:26:13 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","opmind"] [attr="class","opmindtop"] [attr="class","opmindtopp"] [attr="class","opmindtopcenter"]Two Step Cover Up [attr="class","opmindblurb"] [attr="class","opmindblurbq"]
Quest Type: Unique[break] Quest Requirements: 2 Grimm Troupe Members.[break][break]
Quest Location: Dunhold[break] Quest Client: Lord Flynn Bluemarsh[break][break]
Rewards: Declared by staff
[attr="class","opmindblurbq2"] Quest Description [break] "I couldn't possibly go to the Council on this matter. No, they would try to take away the materials I found. Grimm Troupe, there are so people out in the Dungrove Jungle. They're toting around a stone, one that shines like a ruby, but it's clearly not. It's something precious to me for research purposes and I need a team of two very talented individuals to go handle this for me. Especially since I'll also need some souls forcefully laid to rest, if you get my meaning. A small group of five people are out there, trying their best to figure out the secrets to the material. If you bring it back to me with evidence of the deaths of the group, then the Grimm Troupe shall be handsomely rewarded. Thank you!" - Lord Flynn Bluemarsh
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on May 28, 2019 2:56:51 GMT
Cassiopeia
I'll take a stab at making a mission.
Please standby. ♥
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on May 27, 2019 2:29:23 GMT
i'm biting i'm teething i ' m b l e e d i n g She had gotten so much stronger since the last time they saw one another. The story of those facts was stretched across Mordred’s body. Numerous holes and slashes that bled more with each step, but Mordred had to keep walking. It was a stalemate that left two people clinging to life. The Black Market was filled with enemies licking their chops over the chance to kill him. He gritted his teeth as he held the open wound on his ribs. If he dug his finger into the cut, he would have felt his rib—he almost did it just to see the severity and validity of his thought. The coldness of the rainfall did its part in making his trek worse, clouding his vision under the veil of natural darkness. He didn’t detect anyone around him, meaning that there may have been people overturning their presence.
Mordred’s body began to give way, no longer standing the coldness and the rising pain. Falling against the brick wall of a building, he made sure to press his hand there, the one that wasn’t stained in blood. He didn’t need a trail, not even in the degradation around him. Before beginning to observe what the building exactly was, Mordred tore off a piece of fabric and used as a tourniquet around his arm. Every other wound wasn’t allowed to seep blood beyond the thick clothing he had over himself. More so, he reached for a dagger, one that had been lodged in his abdomen. Luckily, it was a shallow pain, one that didn’t force him to the damp ground. He gritted his teeth again and made his way towards the door.
If the person could help him, fate was kind to him.
If he had to kill the person afterward, fate was testing his fortitude.
He wanted to throw up.
Weakly, the Grimm Troupe leader banged on the door. He tried the doorknob before he fell face first into the hard-oak door. His brain told him a useless fact; the door was recently replaced. The coughing resumed, trying to stop excess blood from going down into unnecessary places. He hacked it up into his hand, and the effort forced him to the ground. He felt warm for a moment before the reaching hand of cold death began to curl around his form. Mordred stabbed the door with the last embers of his strength. He hoped that the dull sounds would rise someone awake.
Someone that could help.
Anyone.
Mordred felt the corners of his mouth move. Though unable to stay focused, his eyes noted the environment. It was a shop, Mordred thought. He couldn’t exactly measure what kind it was, but he smirked at the notion of dying at the doorstep of some shopkeeper. Were the proper thoughts one should have while their body began to shut down? Perhaps it was just the hysterics of a dying mind giving its owner something to feel joyful about.
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
May 26, 2019 19:14:22 GMT
Post by Poltergeist on May 26, 2019 19:14:22 GMT
Cassiopeia
We should just start a thread. We can do a mission if you want to get into the nitty-gritty or a social one if you want to play around with the humor of the relationship.
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on May 26, 2019 2:05:49 GMT
Cassiopeia
Mordred doesn't normally feel the sympathetic notions, sob stories aren't anything to him.
Cassie is different.
Due to her being a primary ally, he would have to stay in close proximity to her. With that, he wouldn't know her story. It's just the understanding that Cassie has suffered immensely. For that, I would like to present his softer side to her. Though it's still in the odd way that only a devoid person like him can do. He brings her ice cream when he comes to see her and tries to stay by her side. That said, he will also make sure she still does what she needs to do--such as picking her (literally) up to take her on missions.
Thoughts?
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|
AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
May 24, 2019 22:17:19 GMT
Post by Poltergeist on May 24, 2019 22:17:19 GMT
Myria of Blades
I think that idea is...absolutely adorable.
I dunno, I like plot lines like that. The juxtaposition of two people who can easily kill many people they want just enjoying time together in strangely precious outings. I think it would work out because Mordred isn't necessarily hostile in any passive way. They would have to do some things in order to hide his appearance, such as find some glamour or illusion magic to shroud the markings all over his body. Find him some clothes because the man doesn't wear a shirt often. It would be bizarre but that's a fantastic idea.
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
May 22, 2019 23:33:29 GMT
Post by Poltergeist on May 22, 2019 23:33:29 GMT
Ariadne Economos
I guess I ought to get to the other leaders. wheeze.
Mordred is a helpful soul at the end of the day. As a hand of fate in many cases, her sense of right and wrong wouldn't rub off on him. BUT it also means that he adheres to it enough to aid her on a frequent basis. So at the very least, he would be sociable enough to assist her in anything she might desire. Sadly, he doesn't really engage in afternoon tea. If he did, he would chug the cup and devour the confectioneries. I also think they would just get one another as they wouldn't have any obstructions to the others' way of life. Ariadne despises nobles on an astronomical level, Mordred believes that they're stopping the world's progression. Even their methodologies correlate together, like a sequence. She plants the seeds of an enemy's downfall while Mordred slaughters them while they're at their lowest.
Conclusion? They could be a very dangerous one-two punch, you will.
It's just the social skills that Mordred mostly has to work on for her. Thoughts?
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AGE
24
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Leader - Byzel
UNSORTED
|
Post by Poltergeist on May 21, 2019 3:42:05 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Montserrat:800|Poppins:600|Roboto:400,400i,700,700i] [newclass=.punkidishonest]width: 500px; min-height: 400px; padding-bottom: 25px; margin: auto; background: #ffffff; overflow: hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .t]height: 150px; width: 500px; padding-right: 1px; background: url('https://i.ibb.co/0cwMcvx/Top-Banner-Plotting.png'); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 100% 0, 100% 115px, 0 100%);[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .t .overlay]height: 150px; background: #000000; opacity: 0.9; position: absolute; width: 500px;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .t .overlay div]position: absolute; margin: -10px; width: 520px; height: 170px; font-family: Montserrat; font-weight: 800; color: rgba(255,255,255,0.1); font-size: 40px; line-height: 40px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: -2px; text-transform: lowercase;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .avvie]width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 20px solid #ffffff; border-radius: 50%; background: url('https://i.ibb.co/wLVHpvc/100x100-Plotter.png'); position: absolute; margin-left: 180px; margin-top: -80px;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .t .circle]position: absolute; width: 170px; height: 170px; padding: 5px; border: 6px solid rgba(255,255,255,0.3); border-left-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-radius: 50%; margin-left: 155px; margin-top: 44px; animation: punkidishonestoutercircle 15s linear infinite;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .t .circle div]width: 164px; height: 164px; border: 3px solid rgba(255,255,255,0.3); border-radius: 50%; border-top-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: transparent; animation: punkidishonestinnercircle 6s linear infinite; } @keyframes punkidishonestoutercircle { 0% { transform: rotate(0deg); } 100% { transform: rotate(360deg); } } @keyframes punkidishonestinnercircle { 0% { transform: rotate(0deg); } 100% { transform: rotate(-360deg); }[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .charname]text-align: center; margin-top: 60px; font-size: 35px; line-height: 35px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #000000; font-family: Montserrat; font-weight: 800; letter-spacing: -2px; text-shadow: 1px 1px #ebebeb, -1px 1px #ebebeb, 1px -1px #ebebeb, -1px -1px #ebebeb;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .lyrics]text-align: center; font-size: 12px; line-height: 30px; background: #000000; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; margin: 20px 0; font-family: Poppins; font-weight: 600; color: #ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .accent]margin: 0 150px; height: 1px; background: #ebebeb; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .block]margin: 0 25px; background: #fbfbfb; border: 1px solid #ebebeb; padding: 15px; min-height: 18px; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px; color: #000000; font-family: Roboto; text-align: justify; } .punkidishonest .block b { font-size: 12px; color: #804D4D;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonest .block i]font-size: 12px; color: #804D4D; font-weight: 700;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonestcredit]width: 500px; margin: auto; font-size: 11px; line-height: 25px; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Roboto; letter-spacing: 1px; font-weight: bold; color: #646464;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonestcredit a]font: inherit; font-size: inherit; color: #000000; transition: all 0.3s ease;[/newclass] [newclass=.punkidishonestcredit a:hover]color: #804D4D;[/newclass] [attr=class,punkidishonest] [attr=class,t] [attr=class,overlay] oh you wear your facade so well covered up in a plastic shell you're a liar to everyone around you [attr=class,avvie] [attr=class,charname] POLTERGEIST [attr=class,accent] [attr=class,block] The Poltergeist to most of Eos’ population is almost a phenomenon. Appearing out of nowhere with only markings left behind as evidence, Poltergeist doesn’t seem to stay in one place for too long. It’s a murderous phantom, a nightmare sulking around the entire world. No motivation of why it kills people in such brutal ways. It doesn’t have any apparent tell of its selection of victims. Wanton destruction of life, obsession with chaos, and love for the mystery that it has generated. The Poltergeist’s existence began only a year ago but the records of its crimes only multiply upon every new month. The name and other details of identification are well-kept by the Council to preserve a secret that should never been breached. [break][break]
That reality is that the Poltergeist is a person, not some malevolent spirit. The Poltergeist even has a name that only a few know of. Mordred vi Leomagne, the oldest son of the Black Wolf, Lucius vi Leomagne. As the son of a famed soldier of the Council, Mordred’s decision to abandon his family’s established loyalty came with the first true act of the Poltergeist. The Massacre of Dunhold revealed to the Council and his father what Mordred truly was. A methodical, vicious monster masking himself under the face of the beloved heir of a dynasty. [break][break]
So, what does that say about Mordred vi Leomagne, the feared Poltergeist? He does retain many traits of his family’s bloodline. However, everything merged with the horrendous qualities that lurked underneath. He bears the lionhearted traits that many of the strongest warriors in his family possessed, yet it’s tainted by the fact that he’s not scared of a thing on the planet. His loyalty to the Troupe presents itself in a want to kill every single person on the planet that cannot benefit the Troupe. His ambition, something that goes back to Sarras I, displays itself in a desire to fulfill the most haunting goals imaginable. All the passion that he has only gone towards the worst possible outcomes. He’s devoted to the idea of chasing his ill-toned dream, and nothing else. [break][break]
As such, he does not seem to have a shred of remorse for his actions. Not to say that he revels in the bloodshed and carnage. If anything, he’s inherently calm about his activities, more akin to a predatory animal than a serial killer. He doesn’t seem to believe that he’s just, more of believing in the idea that his actions are a byproduct of some cosmic action, or at least that what he alludes to in a deadpan tone. Due to the nonchalance towards the expression, it’s not apparent if the prior philosophy is something he truly follows. This unclearness spreads even upon his outward expression. No one is even sure if he truly enjoys what he does, seeing as the gleeful expression he often carries appears vacant in origin. [break][break]
Thus, the question that remains about Mordred is if he has any human thought patterns when it comes to the nature of his heinous actions. To summarize, his psychological profile may allude more to the idea that Mordred feels that he has to seek out the death of human life than a sadistic desire to do so. Beyond that, he’s polite, soft-spoken, but suffers from sudden bursts of intense emotion. These episodes include manic bouts of laughter with tears rolling down his face and hostility pinpointed on single individuals. Mordred, or the Poltergeist, may not be here anymore. [break][break]
Additionally, the nature of the Wartime Ballad, which has the properties of a parasite being, only seems to worsen the innate aggressive qualities in the Poltergeist. While active, the magical ability tends to make him gain an affectionate attachment to people who relish combat, alongside a need to fight. It also worsens his established lack of self-preservation. Most notably, when it’s active, Mordred will attribute his motivation to capturing art in its most precious state. Unfortunately, Mordred believes that when someone creates art through visceral methods, it becomes something legendary. Henceforth, Mordred believes a macabre death is a most esteemed way to make a tribute to the arts. [break][break]
[attr=class,lyrics] face the honest truth [attr=class,block] In the storm that Mordred calls his personality, he does have a capacity to recognize allegiances. Friends is a hard word to use when speaking of anything that Mordred has towards people. However, it’s not the wrong word. Mordred will be highly respectful to those in the Grimm Troupe, a part of the Leomagne bloodline that has not gone away. For mere moments, he can be approachable and oddly considerate, yet none of his actions would point to the obvious. He’ll never blatantly say anything, instead opting to show things sporadically. That devotion does extend to an apparent desire to protect those he would call an ally. Mordred dives in front of attacks, kill any enemy that may prove a threat and will appear at a moment’s notice to aid in a dire situation. Obtuse in presentation but loyal to a fault, the Poltergeist’s attachment to others can be difficult to grasp. [break][break]
Mordred, underneath all the madness, does have a free-spirited mindset towards sexual activity. Though he does not actively pursue it, Mordred does display lust towards others, even beyond what the Wartime Ballad warps into his mind. As for romance, the only recollection that anyone has for Mordred having any romantic feelings is way before he became the Poltergeist. Family members say that his romantic actions mirror that of a mix of the Leomagne’s loyalty and gentle persistence. The definition of that being that Mordred may never fully express his feelings, but he’ll show his love through actions and loyalty that never breaks—even if the world deems it not so. As the Poltergeist, it’s not apparent if he still bears that same mindset or not, but it’s nothing that he has ever expressed. [break][break] [attr=class,lyrics] you were never you [attr=class,block] In contrast, Mordred doesn’t seem to have any sort of recognition of a foe. Since he seems dedicated to the idea that all his ruthless acts are something he must do to progress, he doesn’t waste time attaching someone to himself as an enemy. That said, he easily recognizes threats and those who are needing to be slain for the sake of the Troupe. Primarily, Mordred seems to kill Council soldiers on sight, even if he’s after another target. The means of him adjusting a proposed victim seems to calibrate on their status in the world. If one survives an encounter with the Poltergeist, he does continue to acknowledge and recognize them but in the same vacant way he seems to do everything else. [break][break]
However, the Wartime Ballad does implore a strange sense of affection towards those who wish to do Mordred true harm. As such, it’s possible for Mordred to gain mortal enemies as his primary combat magic seems to dictate him possessing such idealizations. The affection that it applies to those enemies isn’t anything healthy. Instead, it seems that when that love arises, it morphs into a lust for another person mixed in with a need to kill them in a beautiful manner.
[attr=class,punkidishonestcredit] template by punki
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