Name: Grey Alucard
Nickname: N/A
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Position: Confused, unaffiliated.
Powers: Though he is a wild, savage fighter, he has no formal training other than the occasional street fight. Though he’d much sooner use diplomacy than throw his fists, if he can.
Ferocity of Thirst: Speed is increased by 50%. Half of the damage given is absorbed through the gauntlets and turned into HP. Restoration affects are doubled if fighting a female.
Duration: 2 posts.
Cool-down: 3 posts after the effects have faded.
Odd Senses: Though still new, Grey’s mask grants him the ability to smell open wounds from great distances (1 mile radius, for now). This also allows him to sense people, and other blood filled creatures, at about 20 feet.
Duration: Constant
Splintered Being: Grey Commands the ability to, for lack of a better word, explode into a flock of bats. This form is intended only for swift travel, and acquiring otherwise unachievable heights.
Duration: 1 post or less. Will be obvious.
Cool down. None, but can only be used three times per topic.
Still my beating Heart: Grey resists all Ice damage by 50%, but is, in kind, doubly affected by Fire based attacks.
Weapon's:Archaic Gauntlets: Sharp and sturdy weapons shrouded in mystery. Taken from the remains of what grey believes to be the legendary monster known as Nosferatu. They’ve somehow become permanently infused with his body.
Archaic Mask: A mask that on contact revealed its insurmountable dark energy, and corrupted Grey into killing his two partners in order to leave his home world behind. It too is permanently fused to his body, disallowing Grey to eat or drink conventionally.
Appearance: Standing at 5'10 and 148 pounds, grey is of formidable stature, despite being of very low percent body fat. His Face and forearms are Infused with An ancient, mysterious armor of unbelievably dark potential. His hair is a brown flow of thick curls that falls to his mid back. He wears the remains of a tight fitting, tan button-up shirt, shredded and tattered at cuffs. His dark blue jeans are distressed, held up by a red sash tightly bound around his waist, leaving the excess to billow at his side. Red shoes cover his feet. There are differing opinions on his eyes. Some say their depth is wondrous, while others see none at all.
Personality: Grey is never too serious, but isn't necessarily the town jester either. If there are two things one can expect from him, they're sarcasm and logic. His sense of humor can come off as dry, or even misplaced if you haven't known him for too long. Also, he wont let his emotions guide him. Grey is the a who will make decisions based on facts rather than feelings. "I'll never be a slave to my emotions." he'd once told a girl who didn't quite get it. This isn't to say Grey is emotionless; he's actually quite up-front with his feelings, though, at critical moments he may come off as coldly calculated.
Ever since the incident involving his acquisition of the mask and gauntlets (see history) Grey has been confused. His mind races too fast for his own comfort, and destabilizes him every time he remembers something, like he's looking at everything he knew with new eyes. It's as if everything he once felt is being rewritten.
Original World: Plane of the Vampyr
Current World: Traverse Town
History: Born into the Plane of the Vampyr, things were very difficult for grey from the very start. A time of disease took his mother shortly after she birthed him, and his father, assuming he was incapable of providing, left Grey in the hands of an orphanage.
He grew up as an orphan would, hungry and always wanting. He had friends, but mostly kept to himself. At the age of Eleven, Grey and another boy, Remi, had forged a kind of rivalry. Remi was sort of the schoolyard bully. Though grey was never bullied directly, he would often intervene in defense of his friends. They'd fight with their fists, often ending when one of the nuns interrupted, or one of the two boys started bleeding from the face. these fights happened frequently, and sometimes it would be Grey against all of Remi's friends. It was these fights that began Grey down the dark path he would follow.
Eventually, Grey left the orphanage and got a job as a blacksmith's assistant. It was hard work, but he ate well enough, and the blacksmith let Grey sleep in his barn, which was great most of the year. Grey kept his head down, and avoided fighting for a whole year, which was a refreshing time. His heart felt light, and he had plenty of time to think about other things. At the age of 16, those other things were girls.
Grey was living as a young man should, and after two years of hard work, chasing girls, and sleeping easy Grey wondered if the bitter fighter from his old days was dead for good. Those three years would remain his finest memory for the years to come, as darkness crept back in on all fours.
An older man from far away, by the name of Van Helsing, came to town looking to enlist the help of young men to aid him on a journey to a far away castle. Grey signed up immediately, incapable of refusing the massive pay he was promised. On the day the group embarked, Grey was surprised to see his old rival had signed up as well. The two acknowledged each other, but spoke little. Seemingly no hard feelings remained from their earlier years together.
The trip was long and tiresome. grey longed for the comfort of his home, and the warmth of the sun that seemed to nay exist in this strange land. Grey's old friends, Cold and Hunger, had come a long as well.
One night, as the group traveled across a mountain ridge that old man Van Helsing insisted was a short cut, The group was attacked by things Grey had only imagined in nightmares. Terrible, grotesque flying creatures. Van Helsing proved himself very seasoned that night, fighting them off eloquently. these attacks became frequent, though less intense, as the nights went on. Eventually no one was surprised when they came. We lost a few men. Grey thought coldly that this wasn't what he signed up for.
Grey's birthday came silently, as he'd been keeping quite all along, keeping himself going only with thoughts of home. They reached the castle atop a mountain in the dreariest, most dismal land Grey had ever seen. Or maybe it just looked that way to his tired eyes. They made camp outside the gates, readying the expedition for the morning. Nothing attacked us that night. Grey later considered that the calm before the hurricane, as they were certainly in the eye of the storm that night.
Van Helsing insisted the men take weapons. All of them, including Remi and Grey were considering turning back. They didn't of course. "We'd come this far, and the curiosity is killing me." Grey had thought.
When those gates swung open and the men rushed in, not a one of them would have signed up had they known. Helsing lead the way through a hell-scape of terror and monstrosities. It was pure chaos. Grey's memories are blurry, but he remembers watching his ally sort of explode in front of him, drenching him in blood and meat. Banshee like screams never ceased, and Grey defended himself and ally's as best he could with his weapon, which was a shovel.
Then, in a dark grey-orange blur of hell and screams, there was silence as Helsing slammed the gates behind them. They'd made it to the top floor of the castle. Grey saw only Van Helsing, Remi, and himself had survived. Helsing told Remi to barricade the door, and signaled for Grey to follow him, which he did. The two men opened to coffin, revealing a mummified skeleton encased in archaic armor. Helsing then began a strange ceremony involving Grey and Remi.
Grey put on a pair of gauntlets, as ordered by Helsing, in order to handle the rest of the ingredients. Things became even more dark and strange as the minutes passed, Helsing nearly in a panic that this be done quickly. As grey worked, he accidentally made contact with the mask inside the coffin. In no time at all thousands of thoughts raced from the mask to Grey, infusing its mind with his own. His gut churned and he began sweating. The Evil was pure, and tremendously
powerful. The gauntlets moved on their own, lifting the mask. Grabbing the mask was a surreal sensation, disconnecting him from his own body. Grey heard a voice at that moment, too low to be heard by human ears, inside his head.
"Leave this land, with the help of two lives. Leave this land as you always wanted." He recognized the low voice as his own, turned monstrous. He placed the mask to his face and tied it on. Grey then acted as he never had before, pulling the mask up to his face where it remained bound indefinitely. Helsing was chanting spells and losing his mind over what was unfolding. Grey had been corrupted by the being he'd come to destroy. Helsing knew he had to kill grey, but the darkness inside Grey's young body was a hard target for a withered old demon hunter. Helsing fell by Grey's hands, dead before he hit the cold stone at their feet. Then, the blood of an old peer spilled, as Grey ripped Remi from life, to death. His body was in auto pilot, fresh with the information the mask had to offer. He performed a messy ceremony in order to take himself away from this world.
Grey lay down inside the coffin with the bones and fresh blood, shutting the door, chanting words he'd never heard until the mask, thinking about a million things at once. In the darkness he spoke at frightening speeds, sealing the deal and sending himself elsewhere. It wasn’t until after what felt like a night of rough sleep, Grey opened his eyes in Traverse town, the armor infused with his skin.
Role Playing Sample: Seven made a fist, and threw several punches at the sparring dummy before him. It waned beneath his striking hands, tape and string warping with the pressure. He swung his body around, landing on his hands, and sent two Capuera style (the break-dancing martial art) kicks in in the direction of the dummy’s neck and head. Loud thuds and the sound of the shaking plastic bass of the dummy filled room in which Seven sparred. Sweat fell from his shirtless body, dripping from the scars, and the ends of his dark hair. His breath grew heavy, and the dummy showed signs that this was the last sparring session it could handle. Seven took a step back, and looked upon his practice partner with sadness. He sighed to himself, fixed his stance. He performed a nearly perfect roundhouse kick, severing the dummies head.
Upstairs, Seven Grey showered, searched the fridge, and to no surprise found nothing that wasn’t expired. He never went to the grocery store, let alone prepared his own meals. He pulled on his jacket and left the house in search of food. He took deep breaths of the cool air outside, walking towards town. He checked the pocket watch on the inside of his coat. It was 9:55. I’ve got a whole day ahead of me, and my dummy breaks. Classic. Seven shakes his head at the thought, and walks on, pulling his bangs out of his eyes.
Seven stops at a bagel shop downtown, Dawn city bagels, and buys a couple Everything bagels with cream cheese. He sat down on the side of the lively streets of downtown Dawn city, and watched as all the people spent their Saturday mornings window shopping with their families, or whatever it is everyone is always doing downtown. The first bagel was delicious. Seven wrapped the second one and carried it off in his right hand, walking towards the center of the activity.
People “oohd” and “ahhd” at the make-shift stage before them. Seven approached curiously, cracking the knuckles on his left hand with his thumb out of habit. Sparks fell from the immediate air above the crowed. A boy with black hair, clearly younger than Seven, who is almost nineteen, stood and spoke with great conviction, spelling every word he said in the air with magic sparks like miniature fireworks. He called himself “Xiac the Wondrous!” Seven couldn’t say that he thought the name didn’t fit. Xiac was very impressive. So young, and already such a gifted magician. Seven was certainly enthralled, thinking back to the frustrating days when he worked on his own magic skills.
The show carried on, and Seven Grey watched with intent as Xiac held the audience in the palm of his hand, drawing laughs and aw filled sounds at every other moment, smiling the entire time. Seven truly enjoyed the show, and as the magician drew his endeavors to a close nearly an hour later, the audience demanded an encore. Seven humored them, and shouted “encore!” a couple of times himself. Xiac turned and smiled at the words, and did something so simple, yet so significant that Seven almost dropped his bagel.
Xiac called forth a Keyblade with his hand, and showed it off to the applauding audience. It was extremely showy for a key blade, but that wasn’t important. The important part was that he did have a Keyblade. He was a Keyblade bearer, plain and simple. Seven was almost completely sure he was the only one, but alas, some goofy magician stands before him with the weapon to destroy the darkness. Not only was Seven not the only one on the world, he wasn’t even the only one in Dawn city.
Confusion muddied Seven’s mind, as he stood in utter stillness contemplating his next actions. Xiac was leaving, and the people were dispersing to whatever they had planned for the rest of their Saturday. Seven’s Saturday was now booked. He moved quickly, following Xiac to wherever he was going. It wasn’t the best plan he’d ever come up with, but he was playing this by ear.
Xiac entered a graveyard, and Seven followed on nearby rooftops, using what little research he’d done on stealth to his advantage. He know only to walk from heel to toe, and to shift his weight as evenly as possible. Luckily The roof tops were just high enough for Seven to keep a close eye on Xiac without too much concern for silence. The only trouble was, when Xiac stopped to speak to a girl sitting below a large tree, Seven could hardly make out what was said. Seven did, however, see the kid with the red hoodie hiding from the other two behind the tree.
Seven took a seat, and pulled out the second bagel. Nothin’ like a steak-out, on a Saturday morning. He thought to himself.
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