Post by victor on Dec 30, 2012 14:05:31 GMT -5
Well I'll put up a character and thank you for your time!
Name: Victor Vareen
Age: Who wants to know? Oh you do well then 18, but this is out little secret, ya hear?
Gender: Male, is there much else to say?
Race: Half human, unknown other half.
Where he currently resides: Tamasha
Occupation: A pick-pocket...mostly... I could tell ya your fortunes...for a price that is, oh look a distraction!
Weapons: A butterfly knife, mostly, if I can lift that hefty sword of yours though then all is fair in war and war, no?
Ability: Psionic ability passed down from parent to child and is strictly hereditary. It means Victor is technically blind, his eyes are naught but black pits, there’s no telling where he’s looking at times. But he can see, though, a world of grey outlines etched in white and black detail, only ever broken by the colour of emotion. An advanced frame of mind, this ability develops with Victor's age. He sees people by their emotions, dictated by the color that mood gives off.
Red means hostile or angered.
A light shade of blue means calm or unperturbed. A primary blue means nervousness and nearing a state of unease. A deep marine blue conveys suspicion and disbelief.
Orange means threatened and alert, on guard.
Black means dead/undead. This can be indicated in divine races, of one’s of god like status.
Purple incantations indicate to Victor if there is magic present. This can be seen bleeding into other colours if the race of the person is steeped in magic or magical abilities.
Green can mean happy and healthy, a deeper more olive shade indicates envy or jealously.
(The colours can be mixed and flow into each other if a person is quick to changes of emotion.)
The ability can go through walls, and solid objects. Material objects appear as grey, rarely ever varying in shades and detail is mostly lost on him. People are picked out with few details, so facial features and tattoos are wasted on his vision. Victor's brain works faster than average due to having a roomy 74% of his brain unlocked in comparison to the 20-21% that would apply on average to most races. All that extra room (around 53%) is dedicated towards his unique version of sight.
It can also be used to focus in on a potential threat or target, making everything around him dissolve into 'slow motion’; it really is just him moving faster than that which surrounds him, it highlights a person’s internal organs and major arteries but also it highlights in a soft yellow ‘opportunities’ to escape or dodge an attack, this is especially useful when in full sprint when his world blurs to grey with splashes of colour here and there. Weapons appear as grey as everything else in his world until they are used in combat, then they glow a soft red, warning Victor of their danger.
Personality: Victor can be sly and devious at times, but only if the need calls for it, say to save his life or get out of a sticky situation. Normally Victor is a lonely individual and searches out places where he can at the very least pretend to have company. Victor is very much a victim of circumstance especially due to his upbringing on the slums of Tamasha but he likes to think himself above the lower scum of the street due to his ability. His,’ luck' as he refers to it. Though he uses it mainly to get money for food, or the food itself, he likes to have a sense of 'dignity' as he steals strictly from rich and greasy merchants that frequent Tamasha, his own version of twisted morals, never women, nor children, nor those who need what little they have.
Weaknesses: Don't be fooled by his advanced ability to see, Victor may surpass many in the powers of observation but he is not an adept fighter. His lean, scrawny body means he's designed for flight, he can climb and scale with ease, many years of his life dedicated to his vaulting over walls to escape being caught attributing to this. He is weak physically, swords prove a great difficulty to lift, he could not for the life of him string a bow and he is in no way magically inclined. His sight is all within the mind and is no spell. Though his sight can pick out weakness in an enemy, Victor is rarely ever strong enough to carry them out, the only muscles mass he really has would be in his legs so he can deliver a sound kick but his arms are only really useful for supporting his light-weight frame when climbing should he ever be engaged in combat he is more likely to go for a swift nick of a major artery but only if the option to flee is not available and he knows his life is threatened, though he tries not to get into that situation in the first place.
Victor also has a weakness or more so a want for company, regardless of whether he's welcome or not, his childhood was a lonely one and he'll take any social activity he can get. Lastly Victor has an utter fear of blindness, the irony not lost on him that he is under the guise of blind man, but with his superior sight and his mind being so keenly focused on his eyes, the fear is always there of his 'luck' turning in on itself and no longer functioning, not helped by the fact that Victor has never seen the world in any other form, say as we would see it.
Due to all this complexity in terms of his sight, it is easily short-circuited. Should a person have constantly changing emotions it is almost definite that Victor will pass out, and when he’s out cold, he’s practically deadened to the world. This evokes another fear. Should be sleep, Victor actually ‘shuts down’, and unlike when in waking, this causes his reaction timing to be horribly delayed. It also saw to the development of insomnia, but there are times when he faints from fatigue, due to an unhelpful lack of energy.
Back-story: At first it was just a child, crying for its mother, its loud shrieks carrying over the crowd. But then a scream rang out from the surrounding locals. The crowd fled from the child, fled from it. Why? He reaches out into the black abyss searching for something, someone to cling to. He is awash in a sea of darkness, seeing naught but black. The warmth was gone; the silky, smooth words of comfort were gone. Everything was gone. Crying out again and again he could hear people and their fearfully whispers, why did they not help? Could they not? Would they not? He finally felt a hand on his shoulder, Victor twists almost viscously to grab a hold of the warmth it offered, that someone cared. But the hand was torn from his grip quickly and he was once again alone. A panic overtook the crowd as they hurried from the little boy with eyes as black as sin, the shadowy veins that ran from the black pits only fuelling the hysteria. Nobody would dare approach the child, it may have looked human but who could say? The...thing stumbled backwards, stumbled again and again...was it blind? But it disappeared as quickly as it had come and people wondered as to where the hell-child could have possibly gone.
‘Mother...mother please, help me’ it was a wonder he’d survived as long as he had, blind until the age of five and then...sight, glorious sight. It began with naught but grey, but months past and the shades began to vary, to morph into...something more. Colour. Bright and beautiful, the colours now painted his world vividly and were at last apparent to him at the age of seven. The dark world from whence he came was gone, leaving behind but the memory of a soft touch and even softer words. But that was lost to him; all he had left was this sight, this vision...this luck. He needed all the luck he could get. It was difficult and trying, Tamasha’s slums, its underground ring of crime and assassination was what built the city. The nobles and passersby could think what they wanted of the nobility, they did not run the city; they controlled nothing, turning heads at the first sight of imperfection, leaving those to their fates, were they not wealthy enough to be worth saving. Even then nobles fell at the drop of a particularly gold coin, much to the delight of their fellows. But that doesn’t matter...it doesn’t matter that, now with the guise of a blind man in place, people gave him a wide berth. He’d find her, one day ‘I’m coming, mother...soon.’ With or without anyone’s help. But first enough coin to leave this wretched place...and maybe just maybe a companion to journey with him.
Appearance: Short and scrawny, Victor has a rather permanent dishevelled appearance, from running away from the guards of Tamasha not to mention his sight cannot pick out reflections, he has no idea that that one time when climbing the side of a tavern that his landing ended up leaving him a scar on the left side of his mouth to his chin. He is unaware that people shy away from his black, pupil-less, iris-less eyes that give way to blackened veins on the sides of his eye sockets, sticking out painfully on his pale, pallid skin tone. He wears all black leathers and a black hooded cloak, but they could have been pink for all he knew, as his vision does not extend to colouring in material goods, proper luck would have that that they weren’t though. After realising just how spooked people were of him, and having no idea why, the problem was solved when he took to wearing a black blindfold, other than the appearance of being blind, he could then walk amongst people without them fleeing from his unnerving visage. Victor is very self-conscious of the fact that he has no idea as to what he looks like, even though apart from his eyes he’s vaguely handsome, in a ‘has been dragged through brambles’ way.
Name: Victor Vareen
Age: Who wants to know? Oh you do well then 18, but this is out little secret, ya hear?
Gender: Male, is there much else to say?
Race: Half human, unknown other half.
Where he currently resides: Tamasha
Occupation: A pick-pocket...mostly... I could tell ya your fortunes...for a price that is, oh look a distraction!
Weapons: A butterfly knife, mostly, if I can lift that hefty sword of yours though then all is fair in war and war, no?
Ability: Psionic ability passed down from parent to child and is strictly hereditary. It means Victor is technically blind, his eyes are naught but black pits, there’s no telling where he’s looking at times. But he can see, though, a world of grey outlines etched in white and black detail, only ever broken by the colour of emotion. An advanced frame of mind, this ability develops with Victor's age. He sees people by their emotions, dictated by the color that mood gives off.
Red means hostile or angered.
A light shade of blue means calm or unperturbed. A primary blue means nervousness and nearing a state of unease. A deep marine blue conveys suspicion and disbelief.
Orange means threatened and alert, on guard.
Black means dead/undead. This can be indicated in divine races, of one’s of god like status.
Purple incantations indicate to Victor if there is magic present. This can be seen bleeding into other colours if the race of the person is steeped in magic or magical abilities.
Green can mean happy and healthy, a deeper more olive shade indicates envy or jealously.
(The colours can be mixed and flow into each other if a person is quick to changes of emotion.)
The ability can go through walls, and solid objects. Material objects appear as grey, rarely ever varying in shades and detail is mostly lost on him. People are picked out with few details, so facial features and tattoos are wasted on his vision. Victor's brain works faster than average due to having a roomy 74% of his brain unlocked in comparison to the 20-21% that would apply on average to most races. All that extra room (around 53%) is dedicated towards his unique version of sight.
It can also be used to focus in on a potential threat or target, making everything around him dissolve into 'slow motion’; it really is just him moving faster than that which surrounds him, it highlights a person’s internal organs and major arteries but also it highlights in a soft yellow ‘opportunities’ to escape or dodge an attack, this is especially useful when in full sprint when his world blurs to grey with splashes of colour here and there. Weapons appear as grey as everything else in his world until they are used in combat, then they glow a soft red, warning Victor of their danger.
Personality: Victor can be sly and devious at times, but only if the need calls for it, say to save his life or get out of a sticky situation. Normally Victor is a lonely individual and searches out places where he can at the very least pretend to have company. Victor is very much a victim of circumstance especially due to his upbringing on the slums of Tamasha but he likes to think himself above the lower scum of the street due to his ability. His,’ luck' as he refers to it. Though he uses it mainly to get money for food, or the food itself, he likes to have a sense of 'dignity' as he steals strictly from rich and greasy merchants that frequent Tamasha, his own version of twisted morals, never women, nor children, nor those who need what little they have.
Weaknesses: Don't be fooled by his advanced ability to see, Victor may surpass many in the powers of observation but he is not an adept fighter. His lean, scrawny body means he's designed for flight, he can climb and scale with ease, many years of his life dedicated to his vaulting over walls to escape being caught attributing to this. He is weak physically, swords prove a great difficulty to lift, he could not for the life of him string a bow and he is in no way magically inclined. His sight is all within the mind and is no spell. Though his sight can pick out weakness in an enemy, Victor is rarely ever strong enough to carry them out, the only muscles mass he really has would be in his legs so he can deliver a sound kick but his arms are only really useful for supporting his light-weight frame when climbing should he ever be engaged in combat he is more likely to go for a swift nick of a major artery but only if the option to flee is not available and he knows his life is threatened, though he tries not to get into that situation in the first place.
Victor also has a weakness or more so a want for company, regardless of whether he's welcome or not, his childhood was a lonely one and he'll take any social activity he can get. Lastly Victor has an utter fear of blindness, the irony not lost on him that he is under the guise of blind man, but with his superior sight and his mind being so keenly focused on his eyes, the fear is always there of his 'luck' turning in on itself and no longer functioning, not helped by the fact that Victor has never seen the world in any other form, say as we would see it.
Due to all this complexity in terms of his sight, it is easily short-circuited. Should a person have constantly changing emotions it is almost definite that Victor will pass out, and when he’s out cold, he’s practically deadened to the world. This evokes another fear. Should be sleep, Victor actually ‘shuts down’, and unlike when in waking, this causes his reaction timing to be horribly delayed. It also saw to the development of insomnia, but there are times when he faints from fatigue, due to an unhelpful lack of energy.
Back-story: At first it was just a child, crying for its mother, its loud shrieks carrying over the crowd. But then a scream rang out from the surrounding locals. The crowd fled from the child, fled from it. Why? He reaches out into the black abyss searching for something, someone to cling to. He is awash in a sea of darkness, seeing naught but black. The warmth was gone; the silky, smooth words of comfort were gone. Everything was gone. Crying out again and again he could hear people and their fearfully whispers, why did they not help? Could they not? Would they not? He finally felt a hand on his shoulder, Victor twists almost viscously to grab a hold of the warmth it offered, that someone cared. But the hand was torn from his grip quickly and he was once again alone. A panic overtook the crowd as they hurried from the little boy with eyes as black as sin, the shadowy veins that ran from the black pits only fuelling the hysteria. Nobody would dare approach the child, it may have looked human but who could say? The...thing stumbled backwards, stumbled again and again...was it blind? But it disappeared as quickly as it had come and people wondered as to where the hell-child could have possibly gone.
‘Mother...mother please, help me’ it was a wonder he’d survived as long as he had, blind until the age of five and then...sight, glorious sight. It began with naught but grey, but months past and the shades began to vary, to morph into...something more. Colour. Bright and beautiful, the colours now painted his world vividly and were at last apparent to him at the age of seven. The dark world from whence he came was gone, leaving behind but the memory of a soft touch and even softer words. But that was lost to him; all he had left was this sight, this vision...this luck. He needed all the luck he could get. It was difficult and trying, Tamasha’s slums, its underground ring of crime and assassination was what built the city. The nobles and passersby could think what they wanted of the nobility, they did not run the city; they controlled nothing, turning heads at the first sight of imperfection, leaving those to their fates, were they not wealthy enough to be worth saving. Even then nobles fell at the drop of a particularly gold coin, much to the delight of their fellows. But that doesn’t matter...it doesn’t matter that, now with the guise of a blind man in place, people gave him a wide berth. He’d find her, one day ‘I’m coming, mother...soon.’ With or without anyone’s help. But first enough coin to leave this wretched place...and maybe just maybe a companion to journey with him.
Appearance: Short and scrawny, Victor has a rather permanent dishevelled appearance, from running away from the guards of Tamasha not to mention his sight cannot pick out reflections, he has no idea that that one time when climbing the side of a tavern that his landing ended up leaving him a scar on the left side of his mouth to his chin. He is unaware that people shy away from his black, pupil-less, iris-less eyes that give way to blackened veins on the sides of his eye sockets, sticking out painfully on his pale, pallid skin tone. He wears all black leathers and a black hooded cloak, but they could have been pink for all he knew, as his vision does not extend to colouring in material goods, proper luck would have that that they weren’t though. After realising just how spooked people were of him, and having no idea why, the problem was solved when he took to wearing a black blindfold, other than the appearance of being blind, he could then walk amongst people without them fleeing from his unnerving visage. Victor is very self-conscious of the fact that he has no idea as to what he looks like, even though apart from his eyes he’s vaguely handsome, in a ‘has been dragged through brambles’ way.
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.