Ruby City App
Nov. 14th, 2014 01:30 amPLAYER
Name: Eric
Age: 30
Personal Journal:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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CHARACTER
Name: Duane Adelier
Canon: Unsounded
Age: 40s?
Timeline: End of Chapter 9
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A
Personality: Duane Adelier is in a constant state of fighting the dark impulses that came with his new "life". Undead have an eternal ravenous hunger, specifically for raw meat. It's a futile attempt to fill them with the life that they now lack, and they are partial for the flesh of living humans. Unlike your run of the mill zombie, Duane keeps the intelligent mind he had in life during the daylight hours, reverting to a mindless monster at night. His intelligence does not cancel out the hunger, merely enables him to maintain the will to resist it. He describes the hunger as like a hungry snake roiling in his gut. He always strives for total control over his environment, because he fears what happens when he isn't allowed to be in control. Temptations are dangerous for him. He keeps a pair of shackles on him, which he uses on himself when the sun starts to set, chaining himself to something sturdy so that he can't go on a killing spree during the night.
He hasn't always succeeded resisting his darker nature. Sometimes the monster wins and people die, but Duane keeps trying because he is an intensely moral person. The events that led up to his death were caused by political fallout from him punching a politician over a moral debate (and some racism, which didn't help matters.). The man had suggested introducing a plague to a previously unaffected part of the population to lower their population and thus their political power, and Duane had been horrified.
He is a very honorable man. He deals with people as honestly as he can, and expects others to do the same. We see him at his angriest when he has realized he has been deceived. In conflicts, he attempts to match his opponent: he usually doesn't use magic against non-casters or weapons on the unarmed. He doesn't like ambushes or sneak attacks, preferring to meet people openly and face to face. All of his hits are, metaphorically speaking, above the belt. He isn't as good as he wants to be, and will break his own rules if he's desperate enough, but over all he strives for honor and honesty as his ideal.
His honest nature makes him lousy at glamour. That's glamour as in an illusion. He uses such a spell to hide his face. The spell steals some of the beauty from the world around him and focuses it on his face, which in normally that of a rotting corpse, allowing him to appear in public without causing a panic. However his glamours are unstable. If he isn't calm and collected, direct eye contact can cause it to dissolve. As such, Duane favors a hood that shades his eyes.
He has a soft spot for children. He still feels guilt over the fact that his eldest daughter got caught up in his own assassination. His last living memories were of her death. As such, he gets especially intense, angry, and even irrational when the lives of children are in danger. The fact that he didn't abandon or even strangle Sette, his travelling companion and the most obnoxious young lady you will ever meet, was largely because of the fact that she looked an awful lot like his daughter. Towards evening when his mind was starting to slip away, he would sometimes call Sette by his daughters name. The most unbalanced we have ever seen Duane was when he found a dying child. His desire to help her was in conflict with his undead urge that smelled her blood, leaving Duane irrational and violent, striking out at anything that got near in an attempt to drown the hunger in rage.
In short, Duane's mind is an unstable one, walking on the razors edge between sanity and madness. He builds his life around around stability, trying to keep to the sanity side, because he is terrified of what he would become if he didn't.
Background: Unsounded wiki and Duane's character page
Since that's very bare bones though, here's the gist of Duane's story:
He was a powerful and skilled Spellwright (mage) of the nation of Alderode, which was at war with its southern neighbor Cresce. Alderode is a strange land, where something has been done to the natural magic of the region that makes humans grow into several distinct castes, with different physical appearances, personality trends, and lifespans. Duane himself was a very middling caste, but chosen as spell composer, which is a very high honor normally saved for higher castes. Unfortunately, it also marked him as a target of Alderode's enemies. An assassin from Cresce, Alderode's long time foe from the south, killed Duane, trying to make it look like a rival Aldish faction had done it to stir up political strife within the country.
But Duane's story did not end there.
Some time later, Duane awoke. For reasons as of yet unclear, he had been resurrected as a galit, an undead abomination that still keeps the mind of the man it once was while the sun was up. By day, he disguised himself with magic to appear as no more than a man. By night he would chain himself up, for his mind would fade away, leaving nothing but a mindless beast that longed for nothing more than to feast on human flesh.
Unable to stand the idea of people from his old life seeing what he had become, Duane fled to a distant land, Sharteshane, where he started a new, er..."life" as a scrivener, writing and reading letters and documents for the illiterate. He was comfortable here until the local mob boss found out what he was and blackmailed him into escorting his daughter across the continent on a morally gray mission.
And so began Duane's adventures with Sette Frummagem. She led him across the country and back to Cresce, the one place he wanted to go less than Alderode. Duane got up to his nose in crime syndicate wars, involving a hunk of magical silver that had been eating pain for months and was gaining a mind of its own. Last we saw him, he was being dragged off to be sold as a new kind of spell-casting zombie worker.
Abilities: Duane is dead. More specifically, he is a galit, which is a kind of zombie that can talk and think like a living person during the day, but reverts to mindless killing machine during the night. That means that, since he's physically dead, he can "survive" wounds that would normally be fatal. Gotta destroy the brain and all that. He has increased strength and endurance, and does not need to eat.
He's also a tacit spellwright, which is a fancy word for a mage. Through their knowledge of the mystical First Tongue, spellwrights can command aspects. Aspects like weight, flexibility, temperature, strength, color, and so forth can be condensed, reassigned, swapped, borrowed, and otherwise moved around. The sharpness of a sword can be borrowed to create a slashing blade of magic. The weight of a rock and a piece of paper can be swapped. The heat can be pulled out of the air to make a fireball. A good spellwright is limited only by their imagination. And of course by concentration. Maintaining the movement of several aspects, or of just a lot of one aspect is difficult thing, and the main limitation of a spellwright.
A tacit spellwright is one who can cast spells without speaking. While most spellwrights need speak instructions in the First Tongue to command aspects, Duane and other tacit casters can do so with mere gestures. This is a rare ability, but does not grant a huge advantage. Tacit spellwrights cannot cast much faster or more powerfully than regular spellwrights. They mainly have the advantage that other wrights cannot hear their spells and get a hint about what they are about to do.
Since no one in Ruby City speaks the First Tongue, this probably won't be very significant.
First Person: A testrun post. Feel free to ignore the prompts for Elka. All the threads are Duane.
Third Person: The sun creeped above the horizon, and the first light of dawn shined in through Duane's window. His mind, such as was left of it, reassembled itself as the madness of night melted away like frost. The hunger was still there as always, like a hungry snake in his gut, but it was controllable. Duane took a moment to check his surroundings. Still in his room, good. No dead bodies or blood lying around, good. Still chained to the sturdy iron bar he'd had installed into the wall for exactly this purpose, good. No surprises last night, then. Good. He could never be sure.
Duane grabbed a pen lying on the desk next to him and tossed it across the room. He quickly transferred the velocity to the key lying across the room and caught it after it as it sailed back towards him. Not things he could do as a mindless plod during the night, but child's play for one who could have been spell composer. He popped the gauntlets off and slipped on his gloves as he wandered downstairs.
He looked about his small domain. A desk with various pens and kinds of ink, paper, several shelves of books...not much, really, but it was a tiny world where he was completely in control. Nothing unexpected happened. No temptations threw themselves in his path. He turned around the closed sign so that it said open and sat down at his desk. A scrivener didn't get much business in a city where everyone could read, but he didn't have many expenses, so that was okay. His life was simple, here.
After a few minutes of no one coming (Not surprising. It was early, yet.), Duane leaned back in his chair and reached out to pluck a book off the shelf. He started reading and did his best to forget the outside world.
Name: Eric
Age: 30
Personal Journal:
overbringerE-mail:
AIM/MSN/etc:
CHARACTER
Name: Duane Adelier
Canon: Unsounded
Age: 40s?
Timeline: End of Chapter 9
If playing another character from the same canon, how will you deal with this?: N/A
Personality: Duane Adelier is in a constant state of fighting the dark impulses that came with his new "life". Undead have an eternal ravenous hunger, specifically for raw meat. It's a futile attempt to fill them with the life that they now lack, and they are partial for the flesh of living humans. Unlike your run of the mill zombie, Duane keeps the intelligent mind he had in life during the daylight hours, reverting to a mindless monster at night. His intelligence does not cancel out the hunger, merely enables him to maintain the will to resist it. He describes the hunger as like a hungry snake roiling in his gut. He always strives for total control over his environment, because he fears what happens when he isn't allowed to be in control. Temptations are dangerous for him. He keeps a pair of shackles on him, which he uses on himself when the sun starts to set, chaining himself to something sturdy so that he can't go on a killing spree during the night.
He hasn't always succeeded resisting his darker nature. Sometimes the monster wins and people die, but Duane keeps trying because he is an intensely moral person. The events that led up to his death were caused by political fallout from him punching a politician over a moral debate (and some racism, which didn't help matters.). The man had suggested introducing a plague to a previously unaffected part of the population to lower their population and thus their political power, and Duane had been horrified.
He is a very honorable man. He deals with people as honestly as he can, and expects others to do the same. We see him at his angriest when he has realized he has been deceived. In conflicts, he attempts to match his opponent: he usually doesn't use magic against non-casters or weapons on the unarmed. He doesn't like ambushes or sneak attacks, preferring to meet people openly and face to face. All of his hits are, metaphorically speaking, above the belt. He isn't as good as he wants to be, and will break his own rules if he's desperate enough, but over all he strives for honor and honesty as his ideal.
His honest nature makes him lousy at glamour. That's glamour as in an illusion. He uses such a spell to hide his face. The spell steals some of the beauty from the world around him and focuses it on his face, which in normally that of a rotting corpse, allowing him to appear in public without causing a panic. However his glamours are unstable. If he isn't calm and collected, direct eye contact can cause it to dissolve. As such, Duane favors a hood that shades his eyes.
He has a soft spot for children. He still feels guilt over the fact that his eldest daughter got caught up in his own assassination. His last living memories were of her death. As such, he gets especially intense, angry, and even irrational when the lives of children are in danger. The fact that he didn't abandon or even strangle Sette, his travelling companion and the most obnoxious young lady you will ever meet, was largely because of the fact that she looked an awful lot like his daughter. Towards evening when his mind was starting to slip away, he would sometimes call Sette by his daughters name. The most unbalanced we have ever seen Duane was when he found a dying child. His desire to help her was in conflict with his undead urge that smelled her blood, leaving Duane irrational and violent, striking out at anything that got near in an attempt to drown the hunger in rage.
In short, Duane's mind is an unstable one, walking on the razors edge between sanity and madness. He builds his life around around stability, trying to keep to the sanity side, because he is terrified of what he would become if he didn't.
Background: Unsounded wiki and Duane's character page
Since that's very bare bones though, here's the gist of Duane's story:
He was a powerful and skilled Spellwright (mage) of the nation of Alderode, which was at war with its southern neighbor Cresce. Alderode is a strange land, where something has been done to the natural magic of the region that makes humans grow into several distinct castes, with different physical appearances, personality trends, and lifespans. Duane himself was a very middling caste, but chosen as spell composer, which is a very high honor normally saved for higher castes. Unfortunately, it also marked him as a target of Alderode's enemies. An assassin from Cresce, Alderode's long time foe from the south, killed Duane, trying to make it look like a rival Aldish faction had done it to stir up political strife within the country.
But Duane's story did not end there.
Some time later, Duane awoke. For reasons as of yet unclear, he had been resurrected as a galit, an undead abomination that still keeps the mind of the man it once was while the sun was up. By day, he disguised himself with magic to appear as no more than a man. By night he would chain himself up, for his mind would fade away, leaving nothing but a mindless beast that longed for nothing more than to feast on human flesh.
Unable to stand the idea of people from his old life seeing what he had become, Duane fled to a distant land, Sharteshane, where he started a new, er..."life" as a scrivener, writing and reading letters and documents for the illiterate. He was comfortable here until the local mob boss found out what he was and blackmailed him into escorting his daughter across the continent on a morally gray mission.
And so began Duane's adventures with Sette Frummagem. She led him across the country and back to Cresce, the one place he wanted to go less than Alderode. Duane got up to his nose in crime syndicate wars, involving a hunk of magical silver that had been eating pain for months and was gaining a mind of its own. Last we saw him, he was being dragged off to be sold as a new kind of spell-casting zombie worker.
Abilities: Duane is dead. More specifically, he is a galit, which is a kind of zombie that can talk and think like a living person during the day, but reverts to mindless killing machine during the night. That means that, since he's physically dead, he can "survive" wounds that would normally be fatal. Gotta destroy the brain and all that. He has increased strength and endurance, and does not need to eat.
He's also a tacit spellwright, which is a fancy word for a mage. Through their knowledge of the mystical First Tongue, spellwrights can command aspects. Aspects like weight, flexibility, temperature, strength, color, and so forth can be condensed, reassigned, swapped, borrowed, and otherwise moved around. The sharpness of a sword can be borrowed to create a slashing blade of magic. The weight of a rock and a piece of paper can be swapped. The heat can be pulled out of the air to make a fireball. A good spellwright is limited only by their imagination. And of course by concentration. Maintaining the movement of several aspects, or of just a lot of one aspect is difficult thing, and the main limitation of a spellwright.
A tacit spellwright is one who can cast spells without speaking. While most spellwrights need speak instructions in the First Tongue to command aspects, Duane and other tacit casters can do so with mere gestures. This is a rare ability, but does not grant a huge advantage. Tacit spellwrights cannot cast much faster or more powerfully than regular spellwrights. They mainly have the advantage that other wrights cannot hear their spells and get a hint about what they are about to do.
Since no one in Ruby City speaks the First Tongue, this probably won't be very significant.
First Person: A testrun post. Feel free to ignore the prompts for Elka. All the threads are Duane.
Third Person: The sun creeped above the horizon, and the first light of dawn shined in through Duane's window. His mind, such as was left of it, reassembled itself as the madness of night melted away like frost. The hunger was still there as always, like a hungry snake in his gut, but it was controllable. Duane took a moment to check his surroundings. Still in his room, good. No dead bodies or blood lying around, good. Still chained to the sturdy iron bar he'd had installed into the wall for exactly this purpose, good. No surprises last night, then. Good. He could never be sure.
Duane grabbed a pen lying on the desk next to him and tossed it across the room. He quickly transferred the velocity to the key lying across the room and caught it after it as it sailed back towards him. Not things he could do as a mindless plod during the night, but child's play for one who could have been spell composer. He popped the gauntlets off and slipped on his gloves as he wandered downstairs.
He looked about his small domain. A desk with various pens and kinds of ink, paper, several shelves of books...not much, really, but it was a tiny world where he was completely in control. Nothing unexpected happened. No temptations threw themselves in his path. He turned around the closed sign so that it said open and sat down at his desk. A scrivener didn't get much business in a city where everyone could read, but he didn't have many expenses, so that was okay. His life was simple, here.
After a few minutes of no one coming (Not surprising. It was early, yet.), Duane leaned back in his chair and reached out to pluck a book off the shelf. He started reading and did his best to forget the outside world.
