Abraham Solis

[Abraham Solis]

Picture of Character

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Abraham Solis

|Full Name|
Abraham Rivka Solis

|Nicknames / Aliases|
Only Abraham

|Age|
Indeterminate, appears early to mid twenties

|Gender|
Male

|Sexuality|
Questionable at best

|Species|
Human...ish Horseman

|Password for that species|
Admin - Accepted

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|Height|
5' 11"

|Weight|
170lbs

|Eye Colour|
Green

|Hair Colour|
Red

|Appearance|
Though not looming, Abraham's height is respectable and accented by a lean, long limbed frame with a fine musculature. Snow pale skin just hints towards a peachy gold in certain lights, and somehow retains just enough color where the blood runs closest to the skin to keep him from appearing sickly. His face is long with a hard, prominent bone structure. His nose is pronounced, even hawkish, and deep brows shadow his eyes. Beryl green eyes are slanted and narrow, deep set and yet somehow managing to catch even the faintest gleam of light. Silky curls of hair the color of fresh blood whisp across his forehead and around his ears, the longest strands just brushing the nape of his neck. It is unrully and never tamed by more than a quick run through with his fingers. Lashes and brows a few shades darker than his hair further frame his striking eyes.

There are those who, upon first glance, would not believe that Abraham is human. Rumors abound about why this is, whether it be that he is some strange half breed, or if he is simply so steeped in demon magic that it has changed him physically. Abraham himself is tight lipped about the truth, as he is about many things. His skin is largely unmarked even by scars. One distinct exception is the symbol of aeries tattooed in the upper left portion of his chest, just beneath where the collar bone ends.

Abraham moves with a tightly controlled grace, almost ponderous when watched. Like he must take care to keep his long limbs from becoming tangled or getting in the way. And yet, he rarely has a misplace step.

Some say that they've caught, from the corner of their eye, a different vision of Abraham. They say that when he steps from darkness, there's the shadow of ram's horns crowning his head, and he moves on onyx cloven hooves.

|Face Claim|
none

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|Personality|
Reclusive and aloof, Abraham does not mingle. And yet, when drawn or forced he is suprisingly soft spoken and charming. Courteous and quite the gentlemen, he knows how to play people, and how to be social. Left to his own devices though he will keep to himself, observant and alert. Rarely does Abraham seem to have ruffled feathers, always composed. It's curious, really, that he keeps so to himself, hardly ever sharing and collaborating with other mages. Perhaps that makes sense given their competitive nature. But Abraham takes it perhaps to the next level, for few even see him perform magic unless it is well disguised as something else. He prefers subtlety to raw shows of power.

Near obessesive about his privacy, Abraham does not like people poking their noses into his business and is prone to reacting quickly and violently. Cold and ruthlessly practical, in a former age he likely would have been labelled a psychopath. He has no real compassion for life. However, Abraham has a few things that could be called redeeming features. To those whom he decides to, he is incrediblly faithful though he may not be overtly so. It is only in actions, in subtle deference. He does not take being mastered well unless he has willing accepted the yoke of servitude, as he has with Gog.

When the subject of demons and the abyss comes up, it is not uncommon for Abraham to just smile and refrain from commenting. He has a certain quiet smirk that says he knows more than you think. A subtly hidden but not incredibly secret fact- Abraham is at heart an arsonist, with a lust and passion for fire. On the rare occassions when his emotions get riled, for make no mistake his emotions run deep and powerful, the heat and sight of flames is what calms him.

|Likes|

• Fire
  
• Blood
  
• Kilts
  
• Pretty stones
  

|Dislikes|

• The color blue
  
• Driving dust and wind
  
• Vomit and excrement
  

|Personal Weaknesses|

• Abraham has an extreme fear of being trapped
  
• He is extremely hesitant to put himself in danger for others even if it would further his own purpose
  
• When badly startled or disoriented he strikes out violently without thinking about the consequences
  

|Personal Strengths|

• 
  
• 
  
• 
  

|Fears|

• Being trapped
  
• The world of the Fae
  
• There is a certain nameless terror of the unknown that makes him hesitate and avoid dark places that he doesn't know.
  
• Trusting anyone on an intimate and personal level
  

|Goals|

• To maintain his position as a Horseman
  
• To further Gog's goals
  
• To gather more personal power to himself
  

|Secrets|

• Most of his power comes from consuming demons rather than dealing with them.
  
• His obssession with fire is deeply, almost dangerously engrained in who he is.
  
• Abraham wants, even yearns for someone, a partner, perhaps even a lover. Love doesn't have much to do with it, but having someone to trust in and to perhaps even give over control to is so tempting. It's something he's never had. In face, Abraham has never even kissed.
  

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|Family|
None living that he knows of


|Connection to Horde|
A Horseman of the Horde

|Connection to Host|
Enemy of the Host

|History|
Through out time there had been legends of the Fae kidnapping children, even before the world shattered. Abraham is, perhaps, one of these victims. He remembers little about his childhood. The warmth of a hand and the sound of lullabies, cold wind and sharp nails. A nightmarish kaleidoscope of color and noise. His first coherent memories are not of youth, of first loves, or learning and guidance, but rather of this wasted earth. When the world cracked, Abraham fell through naked and alone.

Captured and enslaved in the Horde pens, it took little time for demons to find him. And he took to the magic. The magic infused lands of the Fae had changed him incrediblly, and perhaps it was this that made the power tame to his hand so easily. But it was most certainly of product of his twisted human mind that spurred the thought that, perhaps, he didn't have to bargain with demons to gain their power. So in the midst of human suffering he devoured what passed for a demon's soul. Their essence, the core of it's being.

His rise to power was fast and bloody. Abraham slaughtered every challenger quickly and brutally with little care for bystanders. The kinds of power he showed while he fought his way into the position of Horseman is something that he has not overtly showed since. He sank his claws into the position, and seems oddly satisfied, swearing his fealty to Gog and showing no real ambition to move further. He has been through many demons since his first, and in truth it has become almost an addiction. His current demonic partner in crime has him stonewalled- neither has been able to outsmart that other enough for it to make a difference in how their relationship works.


Perhaps because of how steeped in demonic essence he is, Abraham has an easy time accessing and communicating with creatures of the abyss.

|RP Sample|
Darkness swelled through the ruins of the city and Abraham picked his way carefully over cement and rebar. He passed under a half collapsed archway, ducking his head. As he straightened into a beam of foggy moonlight it phased through semi transluscent ram horns the color of smoked quartz. There was a click of onyx hooves, and then as he stepped from the rubble into a cleared area he walked again in boots, and the horns were no where to be found amidst the scarlet of his hair.

He stood for a moment, contemplative. His face held a mask of quiet serenity. After a few minutes collecting his thoughts he slipped a small knife with a blade no longer than his thumb from the the belt cinched neatly around his narrow hips and the coarse black fabric of the kilt that covered him to his knees before giving way to scuffed boots. Metal flashed beneath the quicksilver moon, highlight the blood that welled up as he slid the blade across his skin. Scarlet rivulets traced over alabaster skin, then dripped to the ground dampening the layer of grime that seemed to coat everything in this wasteland.

He spoke too softly to clearly be heard, voice rising and falling in gentle cadence. Pleasant and middling in tone, Abraham's voice has a soft spoken quality that didn't quite fit his figure and feature. Piercing grin eyes watched not his surroundings but the careful line his dripped onto the ground, already aware of the deepening of shadows around him and the deep, growling voice that echoed his with a delicious dissonance. The Beast's figure formed slowly from the shadows, ethereal and barely manifested enough to show the bulging quadruped outline and the misshapen body he chose to portray.

Abraham fell silent as he reached his starting point again, lifting his gaze from the etched spiral. Emerald colored eyes met the demon's own many times multiplied gaze, and a slow smile again touched his thin lips.

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|||Your Name|||
Rien
|||Your Age|||
20
|||you Experience|||
A lot. I've been roleplaying for about 8 years now.
|||Where did you find this site?|||
Proboards looking for!
|||Did you read the Setting?|||
Admin - Accepted
|||Did you read the Rules?|||
Admin - Accepted
|||Do you currently have any other accounts on this site?|||
No

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[St. John]

Admin - Accepted