Post by MALCOLM on Oct 6, 2017 18:46:58 GMT -8
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[attr="class","resetapptop"]MALCOLM THE AFFLICTED
[attr="class","resetapptop2"]SO PARDON MY MANNERS JUST SOMETHING 'BOUT YOU TURNS ME TO A SAVAGE
[attr="class","resetappicon"]  | [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]GENDER [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]MALE [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]SEXUALITY [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]BISEXUAL | [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]AGE [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]NINETEEN [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]OCCUPATION [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]BROKER/THIEF | [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]RACE [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]HUMAN [attr="class","resetappinfo1"]PLAYED BY [attr="class","resetappinfo2"]FONZ |
[attr="class","resetapptitle"]PERSONALITY
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| ■ ASPIRING ■ CLEVER ■ DIGNIFIED ■ FORTHRIGHT ■ ORGANIZED | ■ ABRASIVE ■ CONCEITED ■ JEALOUS ■ LOQUACIOUS ■ MISGUIDED |
[attr="class","resetapptitle1"]BIOGRAPHY
[attr="class","resetapptext"]Born in Kakariko. His parents always spoke fondly of old Kakariko, and so it festered in him,
a natural curiosity waiting to be figuratively quenched. When he found the old village in its ruinous state, he wondered what became of this ill-fated town, with a well that seemed to be the only thing not completely destroyed or abandoned. He was small, and so he had to clamber over the edge to see down below, and the stone was slick with moisture. He fell in.
He came out different. There was a black spot where his face had brushed against something in the dark, and unbeknownst to him it grew as the days passed and he was stuck down there. He drank of the well, and perhaps that too was a mistake, for it drove the blight to corrupt him further and faster until it masked most of his lower face. His voice became distorted, menacing.
A nostalgia-seeking wanderer helped him out of the well, but ran when he saw what had become of Malcolm's face. He returned on his own to Kakariko, hoping to find his parents, but when he did they turned him away. He became orphaned because of something that had grown on his face. It seemed unbelievable, but he didn't understand. Couldn't understand what exactly was wrong with him.
Years go by, and he has to steal to survive. Eventually he realizes that stealing things and selling them quicker than he can be caught with them is much more lucrative than trying to steal directly for himself. He comes into contact with a fence who he never knows by name, and they become well acquainted over the years until they mysteriously disappear from their usual vista. It almost hurts to lose the closest thing he's had to a friend in awhile, but he's turned at this point. He wears a cowl over his face and a handkerchief over his mouth to obscure his hideous visage.
Eventually the contagion inside him starts to call out to him, forcing him to revisit the places he's left behind during his vagabond years. The well is the first, then his parents' home, which is now owned by a new family. There's a graveyard nearby with three fresh gravestones: One for each of his parents, and a third for... well, Malcolm. It's dated years ago, probably not long after he'd returned looking... wretched.
It hurts something tender inside him, near his chest. But the contagion has spread as far.
The corruption will not be fazed, and simply pulls him elsewhere again on impulse, although eventually settling into a less sporadic nature. Malcolm learns to harness the power after feeling the sensation of this queer method of travel over so many trips, and can reject the impulses or harness them willfully. It makes life easier on him, at least for now, as thievery becomes all too easy to manage.
a natural curiosity waiting to be figuratively quenched. When he found the old village in its ruinous state, he wondered what became of this ill-fated town, with a well that seemed to be the only thing not completely destroyed or abandoned. He was small, and so he had to clamber over the edge to see down below, and the stone was slick with moisture. He fell in.
He came out different. There was a black spot where his face had brushed against something in the dark, and unbeknownst to him it grew as the days passed and he was stuck down there. He drank of the well, and perhaps that too was a mistake, for it drove the blight to corrupt him further and faster until it masked most of his lower face. His voice became distorted, menacing.
A nostalgia-seeking wanderer helped him out of the well, but ran when he saw what had become of Malcolm's face. He returned on his own to Kakariko, hoping to find his parents, but when he did they turned him away. He became orphaned because of something that had grown on his face. It seemed unbelievable, but he didn't understand. Couldn't understand what exactly was wrong with him.
Years go by, and he has to steal to survive. Eventually he realizes that stealing things and selling them quicker than he can be caught with them is much more lucrative than trying to steal directly for himself. He comes into contact with a fence who he never knows by name, and they become well acquainted over the years until they mysteriously disappear from their usual vista. It almost hurts to lose the closest thing he's had to a friend in awhile, but he's turned at this point. He wears a cowl over his face and a handkerchief over his mouth to obscure his hideous visage.
Eventually the contagion inside him starts to call out to him, forcing him to revisit the places he's left behind during his vagabond years. The well is the first, then his parents' home, which is now owned by a new family. There's a graveyard nearby with three fresh gravestones: One for each of his parents, and a third for... well, Malcolm. It's dated years ago, probably not long after he'd returned looking... wretched.
It hurts something tender inside him, near his chest. But the contagion has spread as far.
The corruption will not be fazed, and simply pulls him elsewhere again on impulse, although eventually settling into a less sporadic nature. Malcolm learns to harness the power after feeling the sensation of this queer method of travel over so many trips, and can reject the impulses or harness them willfully. It makes life easier on him, at least for now, as thievery becomes all too easy to manage.
[attr="class","resetapptitle1"]WEAPONS
[attr="class","resetapptext"]Malcolm carries around a pair of daggers. One is quite broad and straight, sharpened on only one side. It is four inches longer than his other dagger. The other is sharpened on both sides and the blade zigzags in crooked waves, leaving even nastier looking scars. It is approximately eight inches long, and would be longer if not for the distortion in the metal's form. They exchange between left-and-right hands frequently, although he prefers the broad dagger in his right hand and the other in his left.
[attr="class","resetapptitle1"]ITEMS
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[attr="class","resetapptitle1"]MAGIC
[attr="class","resetapptext"]Black or shadowy surfaces act as a portcullis at Malcolm's touch, allowing him to traverse through walls and certain objects without physically penetrating them. He can also use it as a tactical retreat by retreating into his personal umbra, allowing him to return to a location he's been to since the last nightfall. Alternatively, if he was at a location during nightfall, it acts as an anchor for travel permanently. But he may never cross into someone else's shadow, despite his attempts at such.
[attr="class","resetapptitle1"]EXTRA
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[attr="class","resetappfc"]THE RED KING, ivan krasnov
