[Journal] Pyroth Ignatius : Duplex #5

[Pyroth Ignatius]

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[Pyroth Ignatius]

On the island, Pyroth has so far met the following people (some only in passing).

Ambrose
Aubrey
Greer
Cassidy
The Dude
Hargun
Colche
Vasile
Amaya
Awen
Emerwyn
Antony
Bobby
Chubbs
Billy
Zach

 

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Pyroth was born into a nomadic tribe known as the Gi, who inhabited arid and dry plains some months of the year and the lush grasslands other ones. He was born on a night where the moon was gone, and therefore predestined to be a follower of the less favourable of the clan's two gods.

His mother was in a high standing in the matriarchal society and his father was a decent warrior and hunter. However, Pyroth's birth brough with it misfortune and thanks to his birthdate, he was burdened with the rank of Kureeha, the lowest and most hated in the tribe. He took this in his stride however and kept right on in what he was doing, learning the old rituals of Karai Xinai and the elder gods as was expected of him, until one day, the outside world came to his clan who had tried for so long to stay seperate from the rest of the world.

The men that came to the Gi that day, bore guns and other sophisticated weapons, and in a deft turn of events, they they took several hostages, intending to use them as free labour in their drug smuggling and other illegal activities. It was like this that Pyroth spent the rest of his teenage years, constantly being passed around from one undergorund circuit to the next, learning as he went, until after some time, the men noticed his value and skill as a killer and took him on as a hitman. He revelled in the power and perks of the job and quickly became addicted to many hallucinogenic drugs which he felt helped him to predict and plan the deaths of his victims.

But it wasn't to last. After some time he was captured in a government raid and turned against those he had served for so long. He killed off those he had trusted for so long without a moments remorse. However, once that was all over, he was nothing but a liability to the government and was sent out on a spoof mission, hopefully to die.

He wasn't so lucky however, and ended up on the island of doctor moreau.  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Currently, Pyroth is at 50% progress in his transformation.  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Pyroth lives in duplex number 5  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Pyroth's clan hold a religion of many gods close to their heart, there are gods of war, of journeys and the like. But dominant over all of their actions are the two central gods, Illumise and Karai Xinai, both are hemaphrodites, maintaining the balance of power essential to an effective creation force but both are not worshipped equally among the Gi.

In recent years, much of the religious focus seemed to fall onto Illumise, the god/goddess of light and birth, an internal signal of the influence of the outside religions on the old Gi traditions.

Pyroth however was born into the Ignatius family line, one that went very far back in their beleif in Karai Xinai, the god/goddess of death and endings. It is to this neglected god that Pyroth entrusts all of his luck and decisions in life, not to mention his moral decisions.

Karai Xinai, the many eyed god of the night, doesn't care if his followers kill or show no mercy and it is for this reason that Pyroth was able to follow his old job for so long without moral repercussions. These days however, he's referring to Karai Xinai less and less for murder pardons and more for luck to help him endure his stay on the island.  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

The Coyote

Subject of a significant amount of mythology in Pyroth's clan, the Coyote was a mysterious animal. Considered a pest by some inhabitants of the area, his tribe made a point of always showing kindness to the coyote. The reasons were always unclear as folklores are, especially when all too many belief systems vyed for attention in the wild lands. Some said the coyote was the spirit of a dead relative, come to check back on the family, other said it was illumise come to walk the earth. To most however, it was not a pest but merely a little wolf come to walk amongst them.

Pyroth thought all these legends rubbish.

Still, despite Pyroth's opinions on the matter, the Coyote is a facinating creature.

Quote:

The coyote, or "little wolf" as the Native Americans call
it, is a member of the dog family. It is the topic of many Native
American folklore tales. Its name comes from the Aztec word
"coyotl." Its scientific name is "canis latrans" which means
"barking dog."

The coyote has the appearance of a medium-sized dog or a
small German Shepherd. Coyotes are about one and a half to two
feet tall and between forty-one and fifty-three inches long.
Weight ranges from twenty to fifty pounds. They have a bushy
tail that is tipped with black. Most are grey, but some show
rust or brown coloration. Coyote tracks are more elongated than
dog tracks.

This nocturnal animal is most active at night, but if not
threatened by man they will hunt during the day. The coyote is
omnivorous. They will eat fruits, grasses, and vegetables along
with small mammals. The coyote has a bad reputation for killing
sheep and other livestock, but studies show that livestock
accounts for only 14 percent of the coyotes' diet.

More often you will hear a coyote rather than see one. Its
howl can be very deceiving. Due to the way the sound carries, it
seems as though it is in one place, where the coyote is really
some place else.

 

[Pyroth Ignatius]

 

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Reserved Space  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Start of RP 1

____________________________________________________________

Pyroth glanced out of the boat's window as it made it's way over in the direction of this uncharted island he had heard so much about. It was one of the first times that he had dared to do so since his departure from the base of operations. After all, there was only one thing that he hated more than all else, and that was water. Choppy water which stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions around him, as slate grey and void as the tumultuous clouds that writhed above him. He almost had a panic attack to himself right then and there, so immense was the sight that greeted him, but somehow, through a massive effort of composure, he held it together, his deep chestnut gaze firmly fixed on the island ahead of him where his mission directed him.

Water water everywhere...

He thought to himself as he listened to the rain drumming down from above and as his boat lurched alarmingly in the waves. This was not good, not good at all. He was no seafaring man and the boat had been preset on a course for the island by the GPS, he couldn't steer it if a storm hit him. The thought made Pyroth feel like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

In an attempt to distract himself for a moment, he thought back to the dimly lit room (they always had to be dim, didn't they?) where he had been given his mission breifing by yet another indeterminable face. He was to land on a small island in the Bermuda triangle and determine if claims of perversion of local tribal history and artifacts had occured and to find out if a small slave trade had sprung up there. The very mission itself, he felt, was a bit of an insult to someone such as him with so much experience in the field, but he complied nevertheless.

Now of course, he regretted that decision greatly. He was really in trouble as the boat rocked once again precariously to the right (or was that the starboard?) and, picking himself up from where he had fell to thanks to the lurch of the boat, he picked up the boat's radio and sent out a distress call to any mariners in the area. This had been a covert op, but not much could be done about his cover at this moment in time. He had always been taught that a man's mission comes before is life, but Pyroth wasn't stupid or honourable enough to believe that.

He filed the distress call and held on for dear life, the rain sounding like a roar in his ears. He would have to go on deck soon and he knew it.
 

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Pyroth awoke from restless dreams hours later. He had been being chased through a wasteland by watery and insubstantial demons, all of them after his life, then he had fallen headlong into a rushing void and silence. As he realised where he was, he opened his eyes. The ruined boat swam into veiw, afloat as it was on calm seas once more, the sun overhead. Apparently the storm had passed and through some miracle, left him alive.

He recalled the previous night's struggle with the boat, on deck, attempting to work with sails he didn't understand and to override a computer program he didn't create. It was by Xiani's mercy that he was still alive it seemed.

However, he noted, with a sinking feeling. Xiani loved a joke. The boat's motor was nearly crushed beyond recognition by the broken mast and the on board navigation showed nothing but error code. He was alive, sure, but for how long?

 

[James Brodstrom]

The whirl of a black helicopter was seen overhead as it approached the ship. The model was a Agusta A-109k2, a helicopter normally used for medical rescue and such. Though they weren't normally painted black.

"Climb up!" a booming voice announced through an intercom.

The helicopter seemed to be holding it's place with expert skill. "Get on the Helicopter Now!" the deep voice reiterated, the intercom only making it sound more intimidating.  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

As Pyroth silently mused over his fate, he became aware of a dim buzzing in his ears. He guessed that this was what resulted from being afloat in the only thing that truly terrified you, so mortified that you felt numb. He tried to block it out, but the buzzing got louder and louder until it became recognisable as the distinctive sound of spinning rotor blades. He looked up, startled as the huge black-painted machine swung into veiw.

Someone must have picked up his distress call, and, for now Pyroth didn't care if they were friend or foe, flight was the lesser of two evils and he'd rather face the unknown with this individual and his helicopter than the sea on his own.

Obeying the command almost without hesitation, Pyroth began to climb up to the helicopter, not once daring to look back on the sea that, though innocent now, had put him through hell only the previous night.

As he reached the top, Pyroth climbed into the helicopter and looked around to see from whom the voice had come.  

[James Brodstrom]

"Welcome abord!" a huge man said in a deep bass-like voice that didn't even seem to need the microphone. The very large man was odviously muscular, and bulky, an interesting combination of being toned and overweight at the same time. He was dressed in a black suit with a tie that looked like it was excellent quality and he wore gloves and sunglasses.

Intimidating would be an understatement.

"Sit down, I'll fly you back to the island. Your lucky we rescued you, but Dr. Moreau was very curious about your distress call. You have a lot of questions to answer." A sort of smile crossed the pilot's face as he lifted the copter off and started heading back the direction he had come from.  

[Pyroth Ignatius]

Pyroth felt incredibly small in comparision to the pilot's expansive build. He had been considering force as an option of getting to his destination. Hijack the chopper and fly there. With this man however, he really wouldn't dare. Besides the fact he could break Pyroth in two no doubt, he didn't seem all that hostile.

However, the one thing that did strike Pyroth with a sense of foreboding was the other man's reference to a "Dr. Moreau" and certain "questions" he would have to answer.

Well they knew about him now, he would just have to face the music.

"Thanks." was his somewhat brief affirmation of the pilot's words as he settled himself down, noting as he did so, how damp his clothes were. He would have apologised for getting the seat damp, but at the moment he was feeling horribly like a child caught misbehaving and the less said, the better.