Ptou the Messenger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
over_the_fop) wrote2012-01-14 04:10 am
over_the_fop) wrote2012-01-14 04:10 am
APPLICATION
Character Name: Ptou, The Messenger
Canon: Original Character (Sabra la Tau)
AU/OC/Previous Game: Previous Game
Age: Redonkulously old (appears in his early 20s, if not younger)
Appearance: The form he would be taking would look young, and have a wiry, runner's build. Generally healthy Caucasian skin tone, long wavy/curly black hair that falls into his eyes and a really dorky smile. Skinny, tall, likely dressed rather formally when he appears in Thusia, and bearing a wooden staff with a stylized wing carved at the top.
Cause of Death: His nihilistic bid to kill the rest of his people, destroy the world and himself went SMASHINGLY thank you very much.
Impact of Death: He will be pretty zen on the idea of being dead, but the idea of serving another god, as a mortal, to save a dying planet will cause just inordinate amounts of glee. He will be SO INTO THIS.
References Link:
General info!
Judge info! (NOTE, Messenger was originally played by Aeris and then passed off to me for the latter part of the game)
Old Sabra info!
GDOC OF DOOOOOM
Character Info:
There was once a world where the Gods of it were born of the earth, an Old Man who was lonely with his wife, the Sun, so far away. They in turn, created mortals when the Old Man was too silent. The head of this pantheon of Gods was the King, the Order and the Queen, Weaver of Fate.
They had two childen, Rota, the goddess of rebirth and life cycles, and Ptou, Heir and the Messenger of the Gods. On their birth, their mother wove their fates, and saw that their son, one day, would be the one to kill their father, King of the Gods and take his throne himself. The Weaver, being wise, showed this tapestry to her husband, because many times the future she sees is not what is set and sealed, but what is probable if nothing is done.
The King, being also wise, did not cast out his son into the wilds, nor have him killed, because that never really goes well as far as traditional narrative is concerned. Instead he raised him... or rather let him live somewhere in the general vicinity of him and ignored him all of the rest of the time. While traditionally the heir to the throne, Ptou really could never get anything near his father's attention, much less approval no matter what he tried. Instead he became something of a momma's boy, and lived almost entirely outside of the politics and often violent dynamics of the god's world, without much of an opinion or a care for anything.
He deeply enjoyed and trailed after his sister's perchance for curiosity, and became best friends with a trickster spirit named Kokoli, who taught him the joy of pranks and humor. (This was often an ill-fated past time, as Ptou, himself cannot lie by his nature.) He listened to his mother's stories and loved retelling them even bigger. He would often bother his uncle, Corpus, the Surgeon and learn of medicine and science and generally get underfoot as children do. He was generally well liked, precocious and useful at most tasks he was given, he could never seem to get the one bit of approval he really wanted.
Still, he grew up, carefree, indulgent and prone to mischief and enjoying the finer things in life. He became the patron god of the arts and was often worshipped by sailors and seafaring countries for his kind, if flighty, disposition and his mastery of the wind. He was also known for being kind to travellers, merchants and entrepreneurs and was often called upon for safety before a long trip.
And long story short, he never really ever thought about the idea of killing good ol' pops until the world ended, and the King refused to let it die and everyone started going a little batshit. His mother began to starve herself to death, his uncle shut himself away with his experiments, his father would speak to no one. His sister's mind broke as her husband, the Trickster, took the first blood sacrifice in her name.
Soon the world became twisted, the Old Man, wanting to die, but couldn't because his children still sustained him. The Old Man started to attack, devouring the residents to bring them back into the earth. The King took away the God's true names and gave them roles, changing who they were, they lost their people, due to being devoured by the earth and infertility. The King ordered them to begin to drag others in, from other worlds to sustain them… And finally he spoke up, denouncing the decree and their actions.
For this rebellion, King had his mouth sewn shut, so that he could no longer speak the truth, but neither could he lie. As the god of communication, he was able to speak, but never say anything of meaning. He snapped, finally at the end of his sanity himself and became cold and distant. He still came off easy and amiable, but in truth, he began manipulating every element he could in order to bring the world, and his family, to an end at whatever cost.
Old Game Info:
When the characters who apped into Sabra la Tau met Messenger, he really didn't seem like much. He ran little nothing games... but those paying attention could catch little snippets of information. Helpful aspects of the world and wildlife, information about the gods and the system, couched into the games.
Without much obvious reason, Messenger started HELPING the trapped people, known as Blanks... he gave them journals with odd, encrypted messages, and would sometimes add new things to them. He lead them to a place where they could talk to each other without King or anyone else able to hear them. Then, perhaps most amazingly, he gave the Blanks a strategy for beating the Trickster's worst games.
Then, after an appearance of a broken ghost of a Judge, things started to get strange and intense, Surgeon's games changed... and Messenger, with Flowers, helped the Blanks kill Trickster with almost no visible motive.
Someone particularly of suspicious mind, might have looked at Messenger, and all that he was doing, - how infuriatingly evasive he was, often talking in circle and derailing on nonsensical points when asked pointed questions - and thought that, in all of this gracious benefit, there was actually an ulterior motive... and they'd have been right.
Originally, Messenger didn't honestly care much for the Blanks, just saw them as a force to be reckoned with. He had convinced the King that people of strong will have greater faith, and with greater faith will be more power from the games, and stacked the deck in their favor. He never quite saw the blanks as individual people, so much as a movement that would be overlooked, and could be more powerful than anyone could estimate. With that, he could finally do what he was meant to do, and destroy all of this properly.
And then came Delphinus. He took the particular team under his wing for various reasons, they were collected and thoughtful, cautious in interactions and likely to be discrete. They didn't trust him, and were unlikely to trust other Judges readily either. He NEEDED the power that direct faith could provide, and well... the country that the team was named for, used to be one of the great bastions of worship for Messenger in days of old. It was a bit of nostalgia.
And slowly, they got under his skin... and he starts to really LIKE the little bastards. They're oddly patient with him, if not often exasperated, willing to work with him, and just... INTERESTING. He starts living with them (kind of), starts seeing them as people... he stops taking any energy from them... or anyone, deciding to go the way of Weaver as he remembers his distaste, thinking they really have enough to manage. He had given them a lot of hints, a lot of puzzle pieces, he pointed them at the Queen, Flowers had a team that would kill her properly, he could just fade off.
Then Delphinus risked everything by going into his heart (a game device in Sabra where people would go into a symbolic representation of the person and were able to make changes) on invitation of Persona, and freeing him from the binding King had him under. He could SPEAK. He knew his NAME. He did a u-turn. He took extra disciples, gave Ophiuchus tasks, ran games, everything he could to gain more power without harm. He decided to trust them, all of them, and back them on their resolution. And well, he KNEW it was a long shot, but he was now actually determined to MAKE it rather than just push things in the right direction and take the easy way out.
He no longer had the intent of just watching this place burn and then just, you know, doing what he could for the poor schmucks caught here. No, he owed it to them in his mind, and dammit he was going to TRY to do this. It was the first time he felt like himself again. His OLD self. He was going to try and get them their wishes and send them home, he just needed to get to the end and take the crown himself.
In the end, he managed, but not without a lot of help.
Major CR:
King: DAD. He had approximately three million feelings about dear old dad. A need for approval, a sneaking hurt, something of a middle child syndrome, and very honestly, he's always KNOWN something was wrong, but couldn't quite get up the nerve to do something about it. Even in the final stages of the game, the King never paid much attention to the Messenger's actions until the very end, when he was forced to. And there's still something of a question as to whether it was willful ignorance, or just pride blinding him. More than anything, Messenger really wished King would have just listened and they could have resolved this peacefully long ago.
Queen: The Other Woman. The Queen in the game phase of Sabra la Tau was the Mother of All Monsters, chaos incarnate, the Decadence. And while yes, Weaver was all stately and knowing, the Decadence just had a fantastic rack on her and was just AMAZING in bed. When Weaver died, she became Queen - a logical choice, since she's been a mistress and a long opponent of the King since the beginning of time... and Messenger's really never taken to her. She made at least one attempt on the Messenger's life while the plot was coming to a head.
Surgeon: Uncle. His mother's twin brother, the Surgeon was always too serious, always stern, always focused on duty and his work. And really Messenger was oddly fond of him, as Surgeon for one reason or another, always put up with his nephew. Not without some large amount of grumbling.
Weaver: Mother. GOSH he loved his mother, and was doted on by her in turn. She died very early in Sabra history, refusing to take any tithings from the mortals trapped there, no matter how much he and her brother begged her and offered. When the remnants of her spirit returned to Sabra to show the people trapped there the truth of the world's history, Messenger found his resolve to go forward with some of the more unpleasant parts of his plan.
Flowers: His twin sister and easily the most important family member to him left in Sabra. Once upon a time, she was kind and earnest, a little moe and gifted with an unusual outlook on the world. She was the decomposition that allowed new flowers to grow, the death that made way for new life. The continuance of the cycle and the change of seasons... and Sabra was not easy on her. After the world went underground, she was, absolutely, utterly, completely and without any way back, completely insane. She wanted nothing more than to die, and to show everyone the horror of the world they lived in. Messenger promised her all of his help in doing both of those things, to the point he made sure he would not die before she did to be sure she was killed properly and permanently..
Trickster: The Trickster was Messenger's best friend in possibly the entire pantheon. They were omega bros and there for each other thick and thin. The Trickster, as always, was a great catalyst of change, and the greatest force against complacency and stagnation, so it was no wonder he created the cruel game system... and with the intent of keeping Flowers alive and healthy. It's doubtful that he meant it to break her as badly as it did, and he followed soon after, not much more than a shell, repeating his actions and games. More than anyone, Messenger felt the most guilty about arranging for Trickster's death.
Soldier: ANNOYING FRATBOY OLDER BROTHER. Gave him a lot of wedgies and made him a buttmonkey of the gods.
Persona: One of his few open allies in the final struggle. They hadn't really had much to do with each other over the millenia, but she stepped in and allowed his patroned team to undo the curse on him, to allow him to speak clearly again.
Clockmaker: The god of history and chronology, time itself. On and off lovers, and always friends, they got along, outside of a few minor tiffs (that accidentally changed the course of major world events, but you know how those things go.) Just generally enjoyed each other's company and could talk for just hours about everything. Quite literally.
Graces: Surgeon's daughters. They often made him go to other worlds to get them ice cream and make him paint their toenails, or proofread their bad poetry.
Delphinus: SEE ABOVE. Basically DEREDEREDERE.
Pyxis: While they were always a little more Soldier-y. He had to like a team so dedicated to the wind and willing to give a good dickpunch where it was needed.
Abilities (before Powercap): Most notably, Ptou had skill with Words, an ability shared with his father. With enough power and determination, what he would declare would happen instantly, if not rewrite itself so that's the way it had always been. Otherwise his realms were in communication, art and language, being greatly skilled and able to gift mortals in any of these. The wind, and speed were his to control, said to be able to circle the world in minutes, when a message was dire enough. He could call catastrophes of wind, tornadoes and hurricanes when he was angry.
Abilities (after Powercap):
-Ability to turn into a squidrat at will (a tiny creature known for their larceny, intelligence and speed. And is otherwise an oddly cute combination of squid and rat)
-Wind manipulation (minor) could knock someone off their feet, maybe fetching a remote from across the room, but tornadoes and hurricanes are RIGHT OUT
-Babelfish: He's a walking one (possible long distance communication??? Too twinky? let me know.)
-Spontaneous musicals (song AND dance)
-Can speak in iambic parameter
-STILL CAN'T LIE :D
Items Brought In: His staff: Practical, a nice sturdy walking stick, and a focus for what powers he has left, but in general, it's more symbolic than anything.
A pan-flute or ocarina SOMETHING SIMILAR. No real power but he does play it compellingly well.
Samples:
Character monologue (internal or external) on a subject of your choice.
I must say, I really did not expect to wake up again. That is not to say that I am ungrateful for it, even in the least! As much as I did put on a brave face of a hero, I will admit to being something of a coward. "Something" being the understatement in that sentence that, if you were to look for one, is a good one to start with. All that lovely theology and shared belief about what happens after life is more of a mortal schtick. All I really knew is that things just, well, ended. Kaput. Out. A great naptime of the soul without that nice REM phase.
I don't mean to be misleading, an end was what I was looking for, and I certainly did turn down a chance to just go frolic off into the stars with a starship full of booze and ridiculously ecstatic people. I'm certain that simple fact sort of negates any right I had to complaining that I was dead. Tactic suicide sort of does that. Still, it's rather NICE to be alive. And breathing.
Do you know I've actually never done that before? It's extraordinarily novel and if I'm to be absolutely truthful about it, rather exciting. Have you ever really thought about it? If you stop there's a bit of a discomfort but the act itself is not just calming but it's really refreshing. In and out, in and out. And each little in just feels rather wonderful! It's like you're being rewarded for just continuing to do so. It's really a brilliant design... I wonder how many people take it for granted? I mean, do all of that breathing and never really stop to think about how NICE it is just to fill your lungs up to a good, comfortable level and let the air out in one slow breath. I could do it all day.
… Or rather, I hope I could. And all night too. This isn't one of those things that needs you to pay much conscious attention to it? I'm not sure I have the knack yet and that would be something of a painfully embarrassing way to go, after all this.
Wait. No. I'm getting side tracked, aren't I? No, no need to answer, I absolutely am. Let's get to the point, then, shall we?
As I understand it, I'm here, as a mortal, to serve a set of gods in the act of saving their world from destruction.
I must say, this is perhaps a million times better than any afterlife I'd ever envisioned. Irony, poetic justice, circular narrative, I mean I could go on and on about the literary devices in use here, but it really boils down to one singular, utterly astonishing, and frankly MARVELOUS point: Karma exists.
When do I start?
IC Survey:
Introduce yourself in a few sentences.
Oh, just Ptou will be quite fine for now.
Describe yourself physically.
I am stunningly good looking. Well, for a matter of taste, as it were. Most specifically, mine. I mean, I did make me, after all.
What was your childhood like?
For what it's worth, I really can't complain very much. I was left to my own well enough and just filled up my time as my little heart desired. I mean, as far as things went, what family doesn't have it's little ups and downs?
Who is most important to you, and why?
That's dreadfully difficult for me to answer. Do you mind if I pass for now? I'd need to think a bit on it.
What's your biggest pet peeve?
Calling loanwords 'cognates.' Honestly now, if you're going to just borrow a word from another language just USE it with the proper pronunciation. Why bother going through the trouble of stealing it, adapting it and then just fussing with it by a letter or two and then trying to pass it off as yours too? Is it that important that you have to pretend that they're coming from the same etymological background? You're really not fooling anyone at all, just getting people all flummoxed up in the accent! Honestly! Why bother?
Do you consider yourself an optimist or a pessimist? Why?
I... well... good question, actually. I had liked to think myself an optimist, but that may have just been a very long phase. But then again, a little good faith paid out in the end. Hmm. This and that? Perhaps just mostly on a case by case basis I can be either should the situation require it.
Where, or how, did you learn your most important skills?
Oh from a great number of people over a great, great many years. Generally just listening, watching, and most importantly, asking "why" incessantly until the answer was shouted in a monumental explosion of frustration and hope I'd be satisfied with that finally.
… Not the most productive of ways, but it certainly did the job.
Do you think world peace is possible?
I hope it is, reverently so, but I don't honestly expect it is the truth.
Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
I'm afraid my first instinct is somewhat evasive.
What turns you on the most?
I'm quite divided between "a fantastically skillful conversationalist full of energy, originality and wit" and "an adorable, utter failure at the spoken word and expression of emotions." It's so hard to decide!
Anything else you'd like to say?
A rather open invitation, but just this time, I think I'll pass.
Canon: Original Character (Sabra la Tau)
AU/OC/Previous Game: Previous Game
Age: Redonkulously old (appears in his early 20s, if not younger)
Appearance: The form he would be taking would look young, and have a wiry, runner's build. Generally healthy Caucasian skin tone, long wavy/curly black hair that falls into his eyes and a really dorky smile. Skinny, tall, likely dressed rather formally when he appears in Thusia, and bearing a wooden staff with a stylized wing carved at the top.
Cause of Death: His nihilistic bid to kill the rest of his people, destroy the world and himself went SMASHINGLY thank you very much.
Impact of Death: He will be pretty zen on the idea of being dead, but the idea of serving another god, as a mortal, to save a dying planet will cause just inordinate amounts of glee. He will be SO INTO THIS.
References Link:
General info!
Judge info! (NOTE, Messenger was originally played by Aeris and then passed off to me for the latter part of the game)
Old Sabra info!
GDOC OF DOOOOOM
Character Info:
There was once a world where the Gods of it were born of the earth, an Old Man who was lonely with his wife, the Sun, so far away. They in turn, created mortals when the Old Man was too silent. The head of this pantheon of Gods was the King, the Order and the Queen, Weaver of Fate.
They had two childen, Rota, the goddess of rebirth and life cycles, and Ptou, Heir and the Messenger of the Gods. On their birth, their mother wove their fates, and saw that their son, one day, would be the one to kill their father, King of the Gods and take his throne himself. The Weaver, being wise, showed this tapestry to her husband, because many times the future she sees is not what is set and sealed, but what is probable if nothing is done.
The King, being also wise, did not cast out his son into the wilds, nor have him killed, because that never really goes well as far as traditional narrative is concerned. Instead he raised him... or rather let him live somewhere in the general vicinity of him and ignored him all of the rest of the time. While traditionally the heir to the throne, Ptou really could never get anything near his father's attention, much less approval no matter what he tried. Instead he became something of a momma's boy, and lived almost entirely outside of the politics and often violent dynamics of the god's world, without much of an opinion or a care for anything.
He deeply enjoyed and trailed after his sister's perchance for curiosity, and became best friends with a trickster spirit named Kokoli, who taught him the joy of pranks and humor. (This was often an ill-fated past time, as Ptou, himself cannot lie by his nature.) He listened to his mother's stories and loved retelling them even bigger. He would often bother his uncle, Corpus, the Surgeon and learn of medicine and science and generally get underfoot as children do. He was generally well liked, precocious and useful at most tasks he was given, he could never seem to get the one bit of approval he really wanted.
Still, he grew up, carefree, indulgent and prone to mischief and enjoying the finer things in life. He became the patron god of the arts and was often worshipped by sailors and seafaring countries for his kind, if flighty, disposition and his mastery of the wind. He was also known for being kind to travellers, merchants and entrepreneurs and was often called upon for safety before a long trip.
And long story short, he never really ever thought about the idea of killing good ol' pops until the world ended, and the King refused to let it die and everyone started going a little batshit. His mother began to starve herself to death, his uncle shut himself away with his experiments, his father would speak to no one. His sister's mind broke as her husband, the Trickster, took the first blood sacrifice in her name.
Soon the world became twisted, the Old Man, wanting to die, but couldn't because his children still sustained him. The Old Man started to attack, devouring the residents to bring them back into the earth. The King took away the God's true names and gave them roles, changing who they were, they lost their people, due to being devoured by the earth and infertility. The King ordered them to begin to drag others in, from other worlds to sustain them… And finally he spoke up, denouncing the decree and their actions.
For this rebellion, King had his mouth sewn shut, so that he could no longer speak the truth, but neither could he lie. As the god of communication, he was able to speak, but never say anything of meaning. He snapped, finally at the end of his sanity himself and became cold and distant. He still came off easy and amiable, but in truth, he began manipulating every element he could in order to bring the world, and his family, to an end at whatever cost.
Old Game Info:
When the characters who apped into Sabra la Tau met Messenger, he really didn't seem like much. He ran little nothing games... but those paying attention could catch little snippets of information. Helpful aspects of the world and wildlife, information about the gods and the system, couched into the games.
Without much obvious reason, Messenger started HELPING the trapped people, known as Blanks... he gave them journals with odd, encrypted messages, and would sometimes add new things to them. He lead them to a place where they could talk to each other without King or anyone else able to hear them. Then, perhaps most amazingly, he gave the Blanks a strategy for beating the Trickster's worst games.
Then, after an appearance of a broken ghost of a Judge, things started to get strange and intense, Surgeon's games changed... and Messenger, with Flowers, helped the Blanks kill Trickster with almost no visible motive.
Someone particularly of suspicious mind, might have looked at Messenger, and all that he was doing, - how infuriatingly evasive he was, often talking in circle and derailing on nonsensical points when asked pointed questions - and thought that, in all of this gracious benefit, there was actually an ulterior motive... and they'd have been right.
Originally, Messenger didn't honestly care much for the Blanks, just saw them as a force to be reckoned with. He had convinced the King that people of strong will have greater faith, and with greater faith will be more power from the games, and stacked the deck in their favor. He never quite saw the blanks as individual people, so much as a movement that would be overlooked, and could be more powerful than anyone could estimate. With that, he could finally do what he was meant to do, and destroy all of this properly.
And then came Delphinus. He took the particular team under his wing for various reasons, they were collected and thoughtful, cautious in interactions and likely to be discrete. They didn't trust him, and were unlikely to trust other Judges readily either. He NEEDED the power that direct faith could provide, and well... the country that the team was named for, used to be one of the great bastions of worship for Messenger in days of old. It was a bit of nostalgia.
And slowly, they got under his skin... and he starts to really LIKE the little bastards. They're oddly patient with him, if not often exasperated, willing to work with him, and just... INTERESTING. He starts living with them (kind of), starts seeing them as people... he stops taking any energy from them... or anyone, deciding to go the way of Weaver as he remembers his distaste, thinking they really have enough to manage. He had given them a lot of hints, a lot of puzzle pieces, he pointed them at the Queen, Flowers had a team that would kill her properly, he could just fade off.
Then Delphinus risked everything by going into his heart (a game device in Sabra where people would go into a symbolic representation of the person and were able to make changes) on invitation of Persona, and freeing him from the binding King had him under. He could SPEAK. He knew his NAME. He did a u-turn. He took extra disciples, gave Ophiuchus tasks, ran games, everything he could to gain more power without harm. He decided to trust them, all of them, and back them on their resolution. And well, he KNEW it was a long shot, but he was now actually determined to MAKE it rather than just push things in the right direction and take the easy way out.
He no longer had the intent of just watching this place burn and then just, you know, doing what he could for the poor schmucks caught here. No, he owed it to them in his mind, and dammit he was going to TRY to do this. It was the first time he felt like himself again. His OLD self. He was going to try and get them their wishes and send them home, he just needed to get to the end and take the crown himself.
In the end, he managed, but not without a lot of help.
Major CR:
King: DAD. He had approximately three million feelings about dear old dad. A need for approval, a sneaking hurt, something of a middle child syndrome, and very honestly, he's always KNOWN something was wrong, but couldn't quite get up the nerve to do something about it. Even in the final stages of the game, the King never paid much attention to the Messenger's actions until the very end, when he was forced to. And there's still something of a question as to whether it was willful ignorance, or just pride blinding him. More than anything, Messenger really wished King would have just listened and they could have resolved this peacefully long ago.
Queen: The Other Woman. The Queen in the game phase of Sabra la Tau was the Mother of All Monsters, chaos incarnate, the Decadence. And while yes, Weaver was all stately and knowing, the Decadence just had a fantastic rack on her and was just AMAZING in bed. When Weaver died, she became Queen - a logical choice, since she's been a mistress and a long opponent of the King since the beginning of time... and Messenger's really never taken to her. She made at least one attempt on the Messenger's life while the plot was coming to a head.
Surgeon: Uncle. His mother's twin brother, the Surgeon was always too serious, always stern, always focused on duty and his work. And really Messenger was oddly fond of him, as Surgeon for one reason or another, always put up with his nephew. Not without some large amount of grumbling.
Weaver: Mother. GOSH he loved his mother, and was doted on by her in turn. She died very early in Sabra history, refusing to take any tithings from the mortals trapped there, no matter how much he and her brother begged her and offered. When the remnants of her spirit returned to Sabra to show the people trapped there the truth of the world's history, Messenger found his resolve to go forward with some of the more unpleasant parts of his plan.
Flowers: His twin sister and easily the most important family member to him left in Sabra. Once upon a time, she was kind and earnest, a little moe and gifted with an unusual outlook on the world. She was the decomposition that allowed new flowers to grow, the death that made way for new life. The continuance of the cycle and the change of seasons... and Sabra was not easy on her. After the world went underground, she was, absolutely, utterly, completely and without any way back, completely insane. She wanted nothing more than to die, and to show everyone the horror of the world they lived in. Messenger promised her all of his help in doing both of those things, to the point he made sure he would not die before she did to be sure she was killed properly and permanently..
Trickster: The Trickster was Messenger's best friend in possibly the entire pantheon. They were omega bros and there for each other thick and thin. The Trickster, as always, was a great catalyst of change, and the greatest force against complacency and stagnation, so it was no wonder he created the cruel game system... and with the intent of keeping Flowers alive and healthy. It's doubtful that he meant it to break her as badly as it did, and he followed soon after, not much more than a shell, repeating his actions and games. More than anyone, Messenger felt the most guilty about arranging for Trickster's death.
Soldier: ANNOYING FRATBOY OLDER BROTHER. Gave him a lot of wedgies and made him a buttmonkey of the gods.
Persona: One of his few open allies in the final struggle. They hadn't really had much to do with each other over the millenia, but she stepped in and allowed his patroned team to undo the curse on him, to allow him to speak clearly again.
Clockmaker: The god of history and chronology, time itself. On and off lovers, and always friends, they got along, outside of a few minor tiffs (that accidentally changed the course of major world events, but you know how those things go.) Just generally enjoyed each other's company and could talk for just hours about everything. Quite literally.
Graces: Surgeon's daughters. They often made him go to other worlds to get them ice cream and make him paint their toenails, or proofread their bad poetry.
Delphinus: SEE ABOVE. Basically DEREDEREDERE.
Pyxis: While they were always a little more Soldier-y. He had to like a team so dedicated to the wind and willing to give a good dickpunch where it was needed.
Abilities (before Powercap): Most notably, Ptou had skill with Words, an ability shared with his father. With enough power and determination, what he would declare would happen instantly, if not rewrite itself so that's the way it had always been. Otherwise his realms were in communication, art and language, being greatly skilled and able to gift mortals in any of these. The wind, and speed were his to control, said to be able to circle the world in minutes, when a message was dire enough. He could call catastrophes of wind, tornadoes and hurricanes when he was angry.
Abilities (after Powercap):
-Ability to turn into a squidrat at will (a tiny creature known for their larceny, intelligence and speed. And is otherwise an oddly cute combination of squid and rat)
-Wind manipulation (minor) could knock someone off their feet, maybe fetching a remote from across the room, but tornadoes and hurricanes are RIGHT OUT
-Babelfish: He's a walking one (possible long distance communication??? Too twinky? let me know.)
-Spontaneous musicals (song AND dance)
-Can speak in iambic parameter
-STILL CAN'T LIE :D
Items Brought In: His staff: Practical, a nice sturdy walking stick, and a focus for what powers he has left, but in general, it's more symbolic than anything.
A pan-flute or ocarina SOMETHING SIMILAR. No real power but he does play it compellingly well.
Samples:
Character monologue (internal or external) on a subject of your choice.
I must say, I really did not expect to wake up again. That is not to say that I am ungrateful for it, even in the least! As much as I did put on a brave face of a hero, I will admit to being something of a coward. "Something" being the understatement in that sentence that, if you were to look for one, is a good one to start with. All that lovely theology and shared belief about what happens after life is more of a mortal schtick. All I really knew is that things just, well, ended. Kaput. Out. A great naptime of the soul without that nice REM phase.
I don't mean to be misleading, an end was what I was looking for, and I certainly did turn down a chance to just go frolic off into the stars with a starship full of booze and ridiculously ecstatic people. I'm certain that simple fact sort of negates any right I had to complaining that I was dead. Tactic suicide sort of does that. Still, it's rather NICE to be alive. And breathing.
Do you know I've actually never done that before? It's extraordinarily novel and if I'm to be absolutely truthful about it, rather exciting. Have you ever really thought about it? If you stop there's a bit of a discomfort but the act itself is not just calming but it's really refreshing. In and out, in and out. And each little in just feels rather wonderful! It's like you're being rewarded for just continuing to do so. It's really a brilliant design... I wonder how many people take it for granted? I mean, do all of that breathing and never really stop to think about how NICE it is just to fill your lungs up to a good, comfortable level and let the air out in one slow breath. I could do it all day.
… Or rather, I hope I could. And all night too. This isn't one of those things that needs you to pay much conscious attention to it? I'm not sure I have the knack yet and that would be something of a painfully embarrassing way to go, after all this.
Wait. No. I'm getting side tracked, aren't I? No, no need to answer, I absolutely am. Let's get to the point, then, shall we?
As I understand it, I'm here, as a mortal, to serve a set of gods in the act of saving their world from destruction.
I must say, this is perhaps a million times better than any afterlife I'd ever envisioned. Irony, poetic justice, circular narrative, I mean I could go on and on about the literary devices in use here, but it really boils down to one singular, utterly astonishing, and frankly MARVELOUS point: Karma exists.
When do I start?
IC Survey:
Introduce yourself in a few sentences.
Oh, just Ptou will be quite fine for now.
Describe yourself physically.
I am stunningly good looking. Well, for a matter of taste, as it were. Most specifically, mine. I mean, I did make me, after all.
What was your childhood like?
For what it's worth, I really can't complain very much. I was left to my own well enough and just filled up my time as my little heart desired. I mean, as far as things went, what family doesn't have it's little ups and downs?
Who is most important to you, and why?
That's dreadfully difficult for me to answer. Do you mind if I pass for now? I'd need to think a bit on it.
What's your biggest pet peeve?
Calling loanwords 'cognates.' Honestly now, if you're going to just borrow a word from another language just USE it with the proper pronunciation. Why bother going through the trouble of stealing it, adapting it and then just fussing with it by a letter or two and then trying to pass it off as yours too? Is it that important that you have to pretend that they're coming from the same etymological background? You're really not fooling anyone at all, just getting people all flummoxed up in the accent! Honestly! Why bother?
Do you consider yourself an optimist or a pessimist? Why?
I... well... good question, actually. I had liked to think myself an optimist, but that may have just been a very long phase. But then again, a little good faith paid out in the end. Hmm. This and that? Perhaps just mostly on a case by case basis I can be either should the situation require it.
Where, or how, did you learn your most important skills?
Oh from a great number of people over a great, great many years. Generally just listening, watching, and most importantly, asking "why" incessantly until the answer was shouted in a monumental explosion of frustration and hope I'd be satisfied with that finally.
… Not the most productive of ways, but it certainly did the job.
Do you think world peace is possible?
I hope it is, reverently so, but I don't honestly expect it is the truth.
Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
I'm afraid my first instinct is somewhat evasive.
What turns you on the most?
I'm quite divided between "a fantastically skillful conversationalist full of energy, originality and wit" and "an adorable, utter failure at the spoken word and expression of emotions." It's so hard to decide!
Anything else you'd like to say?
A rather open invitation, but just this time, I think I'll pass.