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 Posted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 2:40 pm
Name: Areehah
Nickname: Ram [ Preferred name for less formal interactions. ]
Hobbies:
Climbing ::
xxxxxCrystal climbing, rock climbing, building climbing... If there's a surface for Ram to dig his claws into and scale across, he will find it, and he will utilize it. Despite being such a massive beast, Ram has an immense fondness for heights. While this doesn't usually make for a perfect combo, weight being an issue and all on some less sturdy structures, he doesn't exactly possess any remorse in destroying said structures in the process of looking for a proper perch. That being said, he prefers to hang off the sides of structures, claws on his hands and feet digging into the surfaces to keep himself anchored. Usually he can be found within the Rift up high on a crystal, just hanging around, watching whatever his three eyes can see. He doesn't exactly have a specific thing he likes to watch--though he does have the presence of mind to point out what a great vantage point he tends to have--largely because just watching the limited scope of his world is just a bonus to the real thing he enjoys: being up high above everything else on his own strength. It's possible this tendency to climb came about as a way to assert his own value and dominance over some other youma, but if questioned Ram only knows he likes heights. Therefore, he will climb to be up high. Why make it more complicated?
Fangs and Bones and Skulls, Oh My! ::
xxxxxRam has a love of collecting certain things. He likes tying them into his mane, or seeing if he can get Agents to craft whatever he's found into more accessories he can attach to the collection he already sports. His themes are quite simple. Fangs, bones, skulls... he adores them. He frequently utilizes his time outside the Rift to kill stray animals to take their parts to add to his collection, and is more than happy to spend more time around any Agent who brings him such wonderful little gifts--especially if they are nice stones, or even ways for him to fasten his treasures to his body. He does keep his collection carefully tucked away in his own little nook between some of the high crystal in the Rift, his own version of a den. Each treasure is attached to specific memories for him--and while sometimes they can grow blurry and confusing to him over time, Ram still finds great enjoyment and power in gazing upon his collection of what he considers to be embodiment of those moments.
Hunting ::
xxxxxA creature of destruction and Chaos, Ram only knows one real purpose and one real enjoyment: hunting. Beyond simply the thrill of the chase, or the sensation of sinking fangs and claws into flesh and bone, he no longer feels complete without prey to track and kill. All other aspects of his life revolves around this singular purpose, from his use of high places as vantage points in his hunts to locate his prey, to keeping trophies of the kills from the targets' mangled corpse. Each time he is summoned from the Rift, he expects without fail he will be given a target to run down, and any attempt or order that keeps him from his task is met with almost childish reactions. He feels complete during all stages of the hunt, knowing he is completing the sole objective of his existence. But he will hunt anything set before him: cats, dogs, rats, birds... civilians, senshi and knights are of course highly preferred above all others, even guardian cats are enjoyable prey to him. Ram certainly longs for prey with more energy to feast upon, but that is not his sole concern. Anything that offers a challenge, a real hunt, he will chase tirelessly to the ends of the known worlds and beyond. At least, until the Rift or an Agent calls him back.
Virtues:
Photo-album Recollection ::
xxxxxDespite having lost so much of his personality from his time as a human, Ram does still possess a keen mind. With a near photographic memory, he is capable of retaining information presented to him almost perfectly--names, data, coordinates, plans, etc. He can recite the information rapidly and with no hesitation when questioned, though the result is a rather monotone, almost computer-like regurgitation rather than anything filled with personal remarks or input. Such additional thoughts or details require triggers to help him focus the memory--such as his various collections. If questioned, Ram will always describe memories as a jumble, though if this is due to the effects of Chaos or simply his own mind it is unclear. Yet his trinkets give momentary clarity to his mind, he believes, as he has a hard time keeping the actual context or faces attached to the information he can recite fresh in his mind. Not that this is a bad thing, necessarily. Ram has no qualm repeating almost entire conversations back he has heard to Agents when commanded to, and while he might need a little help remembering exactly what the individuals were doing while they spoke or other important context, he can at least report the factual information without issue. Useful, when he's allowed to keep to his high perches on surveillance for short periods. Agents should be cautious what they say around him.
Fear's for the Weak ::
xxxxxIt is hard to fear death when each time a senshi or knight dusts you, you simply regenerate within the bowls of your home. Or fear heights when long falls don't kill you, least not permanently worse case. Really, about the only thing that makes Ram really stop and think about what he's doing, is the potential ramifications of punishment from Agents. He is a creature of Chaos, and this in concept he knows. He knows his purpose is to hunt and kill and obey orders, and this singular concept guides his focus. Of course, though he prefers to keep to his own plans and methods, provided the orders given to him by an Agent follow his purpose... those are among the few times he'll object to orders. Sending him out into the fray on the front line, or having him skulk about the high rises of the city to gather whatever vantage points or intel he can are the highlights of his existence--and the Agent will not be disappointed by his enthusiasm. Or the measures he will push himself to to obtain the best possible results. With nothing but consequences from the Negaverse to concern him, Ram has no difficulty pushing the envelope on all he does, pushing boundaries to have the best report, the best results, show off how he is the best. And clearly deserving of all the more time outside the Rift, he's done so well...
Psudeo-Puppy ::
xxxxxRam can be affectionate... sort of. He does like to nudge up against the Agents he prefers, similar to a cat rubbing up against someone's leg, it just might be a bit awkward given how big he is. He's also very willing to give Agents rides in his climbs, and does enjoy showing off his vantage points in the Rift if they're curious. These are short moments, usually only facilitated by Ram first having a preference for an Agent that he believes will not only continue to give him gifts, but not contain him. Thus the use of his shows of affection. In his mind, he sees it as a trade. He gives loyalty to the Agent while they are around, and perhaps even when they are not if they have gained enough favor from him, and in exchange he expects less meaningless orders once he is summoned from the Rift. He seeks those moments of loose freedom explicitly, and will offer anything he can in exchange for them. Of course, sometimes it seems his affection might almost be more genuine than that, but provided he gains more time away from the Rift through it, not even Ram can say if the affection is true or just a business transaction. However, the sensations of loyalty and affection are gone as soon as official orders are given for him to do anything against his plan in that moment--even if it's as minor as "stay here"--or as soon as the Agents are away from him. He can still recognize he prefers them over other Agents, but the level of caring decreases exponentially, to the point that even if they were to die he would be unaffected. In that sense, his preferences can change very quickly over time. It all just depends on whom comes around enough to keep giving him reasons to keep the memories fresh.
Flaws:
Solitude is Golden ::
xxxxxRam can only tolerate others for so long. Most youma he encounters are quickly ripped apart if they do not willingly leave his space, as he does not like to take the coward's approach of simply separating himself from the nuisance--assuming the other youma in question isn't a personal youma of an Agent, or is in fact far more powerful than Ram himself. Then he tends to be a bit more lenient and willing to take his own leave. His dislike of company extends even to Negaverse Agents, regardless of their rank. While he would not attack an Agent, any without a direct bond to him would find themselves quickly abandoned as soon as orders allowed a loophole to do so. An easy way around this is of course to simply order him to stay within a certain range, or summon him back, but the snarls and snapping fangs will quickly show his displeasure for the binds. In such a state, Ram is likely to start utilizing his size and claws to rip apart feral youma near him, or property if he doesn't have a living victim for his mounting rage. He is not too proud to keep himself from throwing a monstrous youma-sized tantrum if he can't go back to his prefer lonesome state. A way to deal with a less destructive Ram though, beyond orders that usually result in him throwing as much of a tantrum as he can given whatever orders he's received, is to barter with him. Recognizing an Agent that has given him things for his collections, or allowed him freer reign in his killing tendencies, he will put up with their presence for a far longer stretch of time, though this is something that must be built up over time--and something he's likely to ignore if he still finds them giving him a great deal of orders to "heel, sit, stay." Once this connection has been established however, is when he shows his more psudeo-affectionate state, which even then is not promised forever.
Affection Not Everlasting ::
xxxxxRam can form attachments of sorts to Agents who frequent his space and give him things, and could be considered affectionate towards them while they are in his space. However, should the Agent suddenly leave him, or should he decide they are no longer bringing him adequate gifts, he will be without any remorse or gift as he takes his leave of them. His affection is only in the moment of their presence and in the moment he is looking at gifts given to him by them. Oh he would be enraged if his preferred Agents were killed before him, but the rage would very quickly fade into the simple love of killing and causing mayhem rather than be any form of vengeance. Even if questioned later on about his feelings or thoughts on their death he would only comprehend that the weak die. Weak youma die and regenerate in the Rift. If an Agent does not regenerate, then they must have been extremely weak. Ram will, after a while, even begin to throw out whatever gifts the Agents gave him that he has since "stricken out" of his existence, all to further help the memories fade. They at that point no longer hold any use to him, as all associated affection would be completely nulled.
Lights Are On But... ::
xxxxxRam can recall a great deal of information, but only outside triggers allow him to maintain emotional connections within the context of the information or maintain his own emotions. Ram can maintain connections and even psudeo-working relationships with people, but only with consistent outside effort and continuous use. Ram can follow orders and even give input on plans, but will only follow without objections should they fulfill his objective of hunting and killing prey. He possesses a personality, can speak for himself, learn and analyze events around him even in the thick of battle... but he is still little more than a beast of Chaos. Connections and relationships hold no actual value to him, and his collections are little more than remnants of his own mind. The longer he spends within the Rift, the more whatever human aspects of his personality begin to fade further. He is a beast of war and largely this is all he truly knows. His existence boils down to, even within his own mind, that he will continue to hunt and fight and maim until something stronger takes him out. Only the strong return, regenerate, and go back to fight. His own loyalty to the Negaverse itself is only formed on the basis that the consequences of attacking them would likely mean his own execution. How long such a concept of self-preservation will exist however, and not simply be replaced by unconditional loyalty driven by inhuman instinct... Ram does not always have the self-aware presence of mind to question this, though every now and then the thought will find a away to dig through the mess and jumble of thoughts likely influenced by Chaos.
Abilities
Physical: Super Strength
xxxxxAlready a large creature, Ram ups the threat level even further by his incredible physical strength. Lifting small cars and tossing them at opponents might cause him to grunt and break a sweat, but manageable. SUVs? Pushing it beyond the max, but still possible if he gets a good leverage on one--which likely means a lot of body damage already as his claws rip apart the body, and also requiring a good influx of energy from devouring starseeds. Though he wouldn't be able to throw it more than a few feet if he was really, really lucky. Ram is not a youma you want a bear hug from either, if there ever was a youma you'd want a bear hug from.
Magical: Scorching Touch
xxxxx As if getting too close to Ram wasn't bad enough already. The youma can focus its energy into super-heating its own flesh and spikes, making it so that anything he touches risks second degree burns if his touch lingers on bare skin or surfaces for more than 10 seconds. Any contact less than that would only feel the incredible heat and pain, but would have no lingering physical effects soon as they broke from hi grasp. As it is, he can only maintain this heat for 15 seconds at a time, and due to the amount of energy it requires to focus and maintain for that period, he is only capable of doing it twice per day. Any further attempts at using this magic would result in him winding back up in the Rift for some much needed regeneration.
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Posted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 2:43 pm
 History:
xxxxxHistory is written by the victorious and the wealthy.
This was a statement that had run true in David Johar's mind. A would-be historian in the making by his own declaration, trying to bring to light the injustices across various cultures' histories that were hidden away by works of art and text commissioned by--yes, the wealthy. The same folks with the funds to usually support the largest fighting forces. The same forces that, usually, ended up victorious. A man who sought to show the world the full extent of damages done by this concept, both in the ancient world and in modern day, he had begun to turn to illegal means to gain evidence. His goal, as he would keep saying, was not to create set people on trial. Only to get the information out there, expose the truth.
It was these activities that drew the attention of one of the Generals of the Negaverse, interested in using his knowledge of such illegal avenues for different purposes. Not that such intentions were made aware to David. David had been too willing to join after a period of time was taken to convince him of the General's sincerity to joint efforts, the young man keen on one prospect in his acceptance: this agency, with so much power at their disposal, surely had the wealth to further back up such efforts. Efforts that he put genuine efforts into for years even after being brought into their ranks. He'd utilized social media and less reputable forums to leak information where he could, trying to raise awareness to the people that way. He was enjoying his life. People were becoming aware. He was taking trips out to hot spots for rock climbing, an old love of his that had been put on the side to focus on his plans, but with increased productivity and funding vacations were possible for him. His family was enjoying the profits of his labors for the Negaverse, unknown to them though they were. He'd even begun to date another officer, built friendships and connections he felt confident would only strengthen as time went on. Plans were made time and time again, dreams of what he would accomplish as he gained ranks, gained more power.
That was the crux he hadn't even begun to realize was there. Till he gained more power. His connections gained him better job opportunities, and those he couldn't legally get a foothold in, he would utilize his alternate identity as a Negaverse Agent to either weaken individuals who stood in his way--or as time went on, kill them. All in the name of righting other wrongs of course. He just had to be in a better position to do it.
Such was the logic that wormed its way into his brain, into every facet of his day.
A better position to help people. More power to help people. More wealth to help people. If history could only be written by the victorious and the wealthy, then surely becoming such himself would enable him to rewrite history correctly. The idea that he was hurting innocent people, spilling blood for an ideal that was becoming warped and as demented as the injustices he claimed to be trying to fix, no longer occurred to him. Vacations were taken less frequently, family visits less important as he focused on his plans.
It was merely by chance that he'd discovered the incredible boost from ingesting multiple starseeds. Oh he knew about the effects, the boosts. He'd used them once before for an emergency, but he'd been... only curious that night. He had too many projects to work on, and so many sources with a board of historians before him. He'd already slated them for death, useless bags of filth who lied and spewed biased crap for children to pick up in textbooks and documentaries. But he had so much more work to do after he finished with them. Quotas to meet, papers to write, more leaks to get out... so much work, so much work...
He'd plucked the first few starseeds without issue, hesitating only a moment before he consumed them. He'd taken the rest for later, reserves. The starseeds had offered a boost unlike anything he'd experienced. He'd completed his work in record time, even had time to spend with his girlfriend whom he'd previously canceled a date with per work.
It was a whole new world, fulled by the crystallized souls of the wicked for his benefit. So much energy at his disposal, he felt he was being more productive than ever before in his life. The more he consumed, the more he was able to accomplish. The effects were staggering, awe-inspiring, and he was only more enthusiastic about obtaining more. He used the boosts from the starseeds to increase his productivity in collecting more, in tracking down more targets to take them from. Less time was spent with family, no time spent on vacations--his girlfriend? She worked. He kept telling her she really had to focus more on her work. Her efforts were embarrassing compared to his. It was... difficult for him to remain around her unless she improved her efforts. She had to grow up. She had to focus on her priorities.
Exactly as he was. History was written by the victorious and the wealthy, and he was en route to becoming one of those who would rewrite the entire book.
At least.
That had been the plan.
David spent less and less time on his endeavors, focusing more and more on collecting starseeds, consuming starseeds. The hunt for more was all he began to care about. He'd never noticed when his girlfriend left him, moved out of their apartment. He never noticed when his family kept trying to find him, kept trying to contact him, then eventually stopped. Even his connections among the rest of the Negaverse became strained, forgotten in his search for power. For starseeds. For more power that would lead to more wealth--no. To more power. It was all he desired. All he wanted.
A Captain so close to becoming a General, David was lost to the never ending hunt for starseeds. It was an addiction he could not break, a never ending hunger that ate him alive. Consumed him just as he consumed the starseeds. He'd killed so many. He'd slaughtered so many. Ripped apart chest cavities using his weapon, trying to carve starseeds out in methods that would never produce the crystals.
He scarcely noticed when the General had found him, hacking away at a corpse's chest. He barely noticed the other presence, the press of energy. The press of Chaos.
He needed to hunt. He needed to feed. These thoughts repeated, over and over in his skull. To hunt. To feed. To hunt. To maim. To hunt. To hunt. Power. More power. Hunt for more power. Become more powerful. Hunt. Consume. Hunt. Kill.
xxxxxHistory is written by those who survive just long enough to write it.
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Posted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 6:01 pm
Hey Kae! Your boy looks fantastic to me<3 A GM will be by soon!
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Posted: Sun Nov 09, 2014 11:31 pm
Looks good to me, have fun playing!
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