Post by Fasdeus on Mar 6, 2011 17:03:11 GMT -5
FASDEUS
|Full Name|
Fasdeus
|Nicknames / Aliases|
Prince of the Nightfylers, Hand of Shadow, Cold Adam
|Age|
Fasdeus has claimed to be the youngest son of a Duke of the Bitter Lands, barely nineteen years of age. He has claimed to be more than four thousand years old, and have witnessed the crucifixion of Christ. All are true. None are true.
|Gender|
Male
|Sexuality|
Straight
|Species|
Faerie, Unseelie
|Password for that species|
Admin - Accepted
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|Height|
6'4"
|Weight|
200 lbs
|Eye Colour|
Gold
|Hair Colour|
Platinum
|Appearance|
With his long platinum hair draped long down his back, Fasdeus' pale Asos sí complexion marks him as Unseelie nobility. His beautiful smooth face is marked by ritualistic carving all to complete the look of a corpse. When in court, Fasdeus dresses in the height of Fae fashion. But when in battle, this Unseelie donnes armor crafted from the bones of his fallen enemies.
|Face Claim|
Luke Goss
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|Personality|
"What nobility of feeling! To sacrifice your own pleasure to preserve the comfort of others! It is a thing, I confess, that would never occur to me."
"Fairies are, by and large, irredeemably indolent. Though they are fond of high rank, honours and riches, they detest the hard work of government."
"It is often remarked that, though a Fairy's magic far outstrips any abilities that a human may display, a Fairy's common sense, compared to that of a human, can barely be classified as sane."
"... his speech was full of metaphors and allusions, but what he seemed to be saying was that fairies are naturally wicked creatures who do not always know when they are going wrong."
"... there is a rather odd belief that Heaven is large enough to hold only a finite number of the blessed, and for every christian that is damned, a place opens up in Heaven for a fairy..."
|Likes|
- Victory in battle and all rewards deserved for such things
- Honor - at least the Unseelie version of it
- Fasdeus has a strong passion for poetry
|Dislikes|
- Seelie faeries
- Humans
- Cowardice
|Personal Weaknesses|
- Cold Iron
- Can be very stubborn
- Has a short temper
|Personal Strengths|
- School in the etiquette of courts
- The manipulation of animal and human emotion
- A thorough knowledge of magic and history, especially of that forgotten by humans.
- Hand of Shadow
- Hand of Mirrors
|Fears|
- Being rejected by his sister
- To be shamed on the battlefield
- The end of his immortal life
|Goals|
- To posses his sister completely
- To Gain favour int he UnSeelie court
- Become the Crown Prince of the Unseelie
|Secrets|
- Fasdeus desires his sister as his wife
- Has already successfully arranged the deaths of three of his brothers in secret
- Is a coward at heart
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|Family|
Fasdeus has many family members far too numerous to count.
Ophelia ~ Immortal ~ Youngest Sister
name ~ age ~ relationship
name ~ age ~ relationship
|Connection to Horde|
Allies with them on occasion when it suits his own needs.
|Connection to Host|
Has had brief encounters witht he Host mages onthe battlefield
|History|
Born the seventeenth son to the King of the Nightflyers, Fasdeus was born into a life of privilege. As an heir to the his father's throne, Fasdeus was placed in a rigorous training regiment and sidhe schooling almost immediately. His first century, he was tutored in diplomacy and politics. During this "infant" years, Fasdeus knew no one but his tutor, a cousin of his father's. At the end it, Fasdeus was introduced for the first time to his father, the Nightflyer King.
It was more of an inspection then the first meeting between a father and his son. A period over which Fasdeus was tested on all he had learned with failure marking him for death. But Fasdeus did not disappoint. In return, the King granted him two hundred more years of schooling, this time as a silent aid to a member the Unseelie Court. It was during these years that Fasdeus witnessed first hand the laws and enforcement of the Sidhe ways.
This process repeated itself many times, with different subjects being the sole focus of education for hundreds of years. In the final five centuries, Fasdeus was forged on the field of battle. Given a phalanx of his own, he was set against enemies and monsters of all imagination. This was more then simple combat training. "Any fool can fight," his General had said, "but only Sidhe Heroes can lead armies."
It was here that Fasdeus learned what would be his place in the Kingdom of the Nightflyers. While his oldest brother was destined to be the next King, Fasdeus rose to become a great general in his home kingdom. But this was not enough. Fasdeus craved the Crown of the UnSeelie court.
It was only recently that Fasdeus discovered another joy in his life. His father's newest child, Ophelia. Still very young, she has been spoiled and let loose into the human world. This, Fasdeus believes, is a mistake. His obsession with his sister has become very dangerous, distracting him from his other goals more often than not. He dispatches agents of his legion into the mortal realm to watch her and appraise him of her actions.
|RP Sample|
The human stood preening himself in the bathroom mirror. Whatever he had said or done to Ophelia, she was now intent on following him. Fasdeus' mind swirled with the unclean things this human must have had intended for his little sister in this place. But, thanks to his protective hand, those things would not happen.
The man leaned in closer to gaze into his own reflection. As he brushed his hair aside from his perfect skin, he paused. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. And how fortunate he would have been if it were just his mind. Perhaps the lighting from this old building was creating odd shadows in the mirror. neither of those explanations seemed to satisfy the poor boy as he noted, with absolute certainty in his own reflection, the thin line of red running just under his right eye. Unable to see the cut without the mirror, the human raised a tentative finger to touch it. The skin flapped like a curtain against his finger. As he pushed a little more into it, the man became more and more terrified. All colour ran from his face as he explored this horrible wound. His forefinger was nearly a full fingernail-deep under the skin. It felt so loose, and dry, like dead skin does when it is just hanging on. That was it! This was not a nightmarish wound but just some dead skin. With his thumb now pinching the flap against his forefinger, the man confidently pulled away the dead skin. But it was not perfect. As he pulled it away, more dead skin revealed itself along the edges. That beautiful woman out there would be in here soon and he just had to look his best. Grasping at the next biggest flap, the man took a good hold and pulled at that. More and more skin was coming undone with each tear. Now using both hands, he pulled frantically at every flap of loose skin he could find. He pulled and he tore and pulled and tore.
At last, the man was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall and his breathing hard. Exhausted and strangely sore all over, he stared hard at the ground, regaining his breath. The old rust-coloured wooded floor were wet and he could feel the water soaking through his pants as he sat in it. Pulling his hands up, the man saw the truth of the 'water'. His hands were covered in blood! Trembling, he pulled himself to his feet, though it was difficult as the blood had somehow spilled onto his face and was now running down, blurring his vision. Finally stable at the sink, he turned on the water so as to wipe away the blood from his eyes. As his first hand swiped gently across his brow, the man's face exploded in pain. It was like running razors across his flesh. The nerves reacted so violently that the man swore he would pass out soon. Determined, as he was, he took more water in his hand and splashed it over his face. His legs buckled and he was forced to grab firm to the sink or collapse completely as his face erupted in pain. Frightened and confused, the man slowly lifted his head. He had to know. He had to know where all this blood had come from in the first place. And he had to know why it hurt so much.
Both answers came in one reality-shattering moment as he caught look of his own tortured appearance in the mirror. The blood poured out from wounds all along his skinless, gouge face. Panic. Fear. These words could not begin to describe the moment for this man. As he stared in horror at his own reflection, his own self-mutilated face, the man's world broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Someone was screaming. It was a sound so primal that he could not understand that it was his own voice.
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|||Your Name|||
Chad
|||Your Age|||
23
|||you Experience|||
I have been on two other sites that died out before they could get fun.
|||Where did you find this site?|||
Proboards
|||Did you read the Setting?|||
Admin-Accepted
|||Did you read the Rules?|||
Admin-Accepted
|||Do you currently have any other accounts on this site?|||
Not yet
Chad
|||Your Age|||
23
|||you Experience|||
I have been on two other sites that died out before they could get fun.
|||Where did you find this site?|||
Proboards
|||Did you read the Setting?|||
Admin-Accepted
|||Did you read the Rules?|||
Admin-Accepted
|||Do you currently have any other accounts on this site?|||
Not yet