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Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Sisyphus
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Sisyphus

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Name: "My Name Is" Nicholas

Age: Taken in 2012. Age is... hard to say, but he looks like he's in his early 30s.

Gender: Male

Seeming: Darkling

Court: Courtless

Appearance: Mask: Nicholas is a tall, pale and terribly gaunt man with a smooth face and short black hair. He's usually overdressed for the weather, and wears a pair of sunglasses that he patently refuses to take off in any situation. He has a face that's best described as 'sharp', all cheekbones and long, pointed nose. His body seems to be almost constant movement, like he's always swaying slightly or checking over his shoulder, and his clothes tend to be at best ragged, at worst filthy.

Mien: In his true form, Nicholas is taller still, at least seven and a half feet tall. His arms and legs are much too long for his body and both double-jointed, and his fingers end in needle-like claws. His skin is blanched whiter than bone and completely hairless, looking for all the world like he was fashioned out of marble or white clay. His mouth is a round hole full of jagged teeth, and his eyes have neither pupil nor iris, just one pitch black surface.

History: Nicholas remembers very little of his life before captivity. He remembers an apartment, a city. New York City. A suit he had to wear to his job as a lawyer - he'd been a good lawyer. He remembers a woman's face, someone he loved, but he finds it melts away the harder he tries to hold onto it. He remembers his name, and his name is Nicholas. He remembers the feeling of warm air on his skin and looking up at the sun without pain or fear; he'll never forget that.

Memory becomes clearer when he thinks about how he was taken. He was in the woods, somewhere far from New York City. There was a reason he'd had to come there, something important, something terrible. His hands were shaking, white-knuckled gripping a flashlight, and then a woman's silhouette was blazing like a beacon in front of him, so bright she was hard to look at. That was the first time he saw the Princess of Mazes.

The Princess dragged him to Arcadia by the arm, his skin tearing on the thorns. She brought him down to her workshop far below the earth, for the Princess fancied herself a master of games, a maker of puzzles to challenge and delight all. For a time, Nicholas was her favorite 'guest', forced to crawl through maze after maze for her amusement.

Nicholas remembers crawling in the dark, cutting his hands and feet on rough stone and shivering in the damp. He escaped from maze after maze in that time, always pushing his way to the end no matter what. Sometimes, the Princess would grow bored of conventional challenge, and hide 'hazards' in the maze to challenge him. He snuck past huge monsters, outran blades and gnashing teeth, crawled whimpering across fields of broken glass. Anything to reach the end. Sometimes the Princess herself would pursue him through the mazes, and when that dreadful light found him there was always pain.

Eventually, however, the Princess tired of him, her attentions moving on to newer 'guests', and Nicholas was cast into the darkness. Time left him. Sanity left him. He crawled on all fours and howled and sobbed in the pitch black, chewing scraps of meat and garbage with broken teeth. He might have been down there for five months or four a hundred years, without a single light, without another soul. Until the day came when someone found him in the darkness, a human like he had once been - she screamed, and ran deeper into the winding maze of his home. He had become a hazard.

My name is Nicholas. The thought echoed through his mind, and with it came a fact: he had to escape. And so Nicholas escaped from one more maze, crawling through the pitch black until at last he came to the exit. He ran, slipping past the Princess while she was distracted with the guest in the maze and fleeing Arcadia with all his speed, sprinting barefoot through the Hedge until a gateway coughed him up in the New York Subway.

That was three weeks ago. Since then, he's lived an exciting life of homelessness, sleeping on street corners, eating out of garbage cans, weeping tears of joy and trying to remember how to be a human being.

Personality: Nicholas is, above all things, determined. It's the trait that once saw through a promising law career, and the trait that saw him through countless of the Princess's demented mazes. He's goal-oriented and single-minded, and his current goal is to live like a human again.

That being said, Nicholas is also a complete wreck. He's paranoid, confused, absolutely useless in social situations and generally clueless. He has no manners or social graces (especially table manners), and has to force his face to make expressions when he speaks, an effect that's at best uncanny. He's desperately lonely and desires companionship more than anything, but his long stretch of isolation has made him very bad at actually talking to people. Finally, he's also prone to some over-the-top displays of emotion, shouting when he's mad, crying when he's unhappy and talking to himself whenever he's lonely (which is all the time).

Skills: Nicholas has gotten very good at sneaking around in the darkness from all the time avoiding hazards, and he's also a very good survivalist in conditions of extreme depravity, able to find and stomach food in the unlikeliest of places. He's also decent in a scrap, though he fights very dirty; a necessary skill for whenever the Princess would cheat and notify a hazard to his location.

Supernatural Powers: Nicholas is inhumanly fast, able to lope and twist and move his body at speeds nobody should be capable of. Something in his hands also lets him crawl on walls and ceilings as though they were flat surfaces, though only on all fours. Finally, whenever he enters a room, the shadows in it deepen and seem to stretch towards him, inviting him to hide in them. He says it's because they're 'his friends', and he has the right of it.

Weaknesses: Bright lights hurt Nicholas's eyes, blinding him and often causing him to recoil - in addition, they also tend to remind him of his captor, which will usually send him cowering in a corner, shielding his eyes and howling. Heat, too, is especially damaging to him, and fire itself seems to have it out for the poor guy, always stretching towards him and catching onto his stuff. Finally, he has a crippling fear of being lost; at the first indication that he doesn't know where he is, he'll start freaking out and frantically looking for a landmark, only calming down once he's able to figure out his location for certain.

Possessions: His clothes, five bucks, and a whole stack of maps of New York, 'So he doesn't get lost'.

Other: Anything else you want to include about your character. Little tics, theme song, favorite food, whatever.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BubblegumQueen
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BubblegumQueen The Thin White Duke

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Name: Robin Pearman

Age: Born in 1958. They physically look 26.

Gender: Female

Seeming: Elemental

Court: Courtless

Appearance:
Mask: Light brown skin with a beauty mark underneath her right eye. Big chocolate brown eyes framed by thick and dark lashes. A smaller nose that narrows to a point. Thick and arched eyebrows with smaller lips that look to be constantly quirked to the left, giving the impression of a smirk. There is a dimple on that cheek with high cheekbones. She's short at 5'3 with a slightly disproportionate frame, more pearshaped. She has long and curly dark brown hair with light brown and blonde natural highlights scattered throughout that falls to her elbows. She typically wears long skirts or dresses. Maybe even the odd shorts here and there. Usually with crop tops or with tunics, maybe the odd flannel. Always with a single ring on her ring finger.

Mien: She looks very similar to human form apart from a few key features. Her skin becomes hardened like one of those antique glass dolls you'd see. Her eyes glaze over and turn into a milky shade, lifeless. There are cracks littered all over her skin, a few pieces missing revealing black emptiness. She shrinks down to 5 feet even, not too far down from her usual height.

History: Robin's previous life is a blur, small details missing. She came to the U.S with her parents from Mexico when she was a little girl. They bought some house somewhere in a rural town, small in numbers, very close-knit. When she was older, she met a man. His name is lost to her, but she remembers them falling in love. It was something... epic. They got married and moved in with each other a few years after their first meeting. She remembered being... happy. She'd never been the most... sought after girl with her accent and dislike for most 'normal' girl things. He was the first guy to show any interest in her.

They were happy together. Less than a year after their marriage, she gave birth to her first child. A baby girl. Her name was... Alice. She remembered that. Then, 2 years later, twin boys by the names of James and David. She's unsure as to why she remembers her children's names and not her husband's but... Robin prefers to not think of it. She stayed at home while he was a... doctor? Or maybe a businessman. One of the two. While it may seem like a bland or boring existence... she was genuinely happy. She never wanted it to change... but she wouldn't be known to you if that was it, ya know?

Her capture was... another blur at first. But, she dreamt of it every night so she was quite familiar with it. She was at home, making dinner. Her husband was to be home soon and she wanted to surprise him, it being their anniversary. The kids were upstairs doing... something. Apparently, there was a rumor going around their school that if they said this... thing and did a ritual, they'd be able to have good luck. Them being kids, they saw nothing wrong with it and believed it to be true. So, they cut open one of Alice's old dolls and put a strand of their hair into it before taping it shut. They said... something. She didn't know what. And it didn't give them good luck but it did something.

Robin heard their screams and had ran upstairs. Bursting into the older sibling's room where they were, she saw this... creature. It was... tall and lanky... horribly disfigured. It was as if it's face had been melted, all of the features mixing together. It held her squirming children in it's hands, trying to stuff them into a sack, some kind of portal behind it. She didn't think. She didn't hesitate. She threw one of the books from the bookcase at it, and kept throwing. Apparently, she caught his attention and kept it. Setting the children down, it went for her. She fought back best she could but she was no match for it. With her children crying and screaming for her and the sound of it laughing, it all went to black when she finally shoved into the sack.

Everything after that was... hell. She was trapped inside a doll. The creature that took her was apparently a collector. It collected everything from dolls, to carvings, to even silverware. It looked shiny. Robin was it's favorite doll to play with. But, the doll she was inside of was one of those antique glass dolls. You know, the ones that your grandparents told you to be careful with because if you dropped it, you could crack it. Yeah, one of those. Those dolls were never meant to be played with, usually just kept for the decor. But, it didn't care. It would have tea parties with her, run around and play with her, have fights with her against other dolls (Those were the worst. She had a feeling she wasn't the only soul inside of a doll, it filled her with the disturbing mix of pity and relief at not being alone.), and he would sleep with her. She was the favorite, she could never figure out why.

Actually, no. The fights weren't the worst... his tantrums were. He was apparently more childish then you'd think. He'd storm into his hidden home where she was kept, so angry. She never figured out why he was so angry all the time. Hell, it took years before she realized that 'it' was a 'he'. Process of elimination, really. He'd come in angry and would start breaking stuff. His rage was... horrifying. She always took the brunt of it, being thrown around so much that it was a miracle the whole thing didn't shatter. But, by the time she left, the doll had many pieces missing and many cracks scattered all over. It came to reflect how her Mien form would look. And don't think that just because she was a doll, she felt nothing. No, she felt it all. And it was... agony. And it never ended. The same routine over and over again for what felt like centuries... before she escaped.

Now she would be let out of the doll every once in a while, usually to clean herself up and maybe eat. She could go a long time without eating there and she didn't need to clean herself as often. But whenever she started to smell, he would take her out of the doll to clean her. It was demeaning and disgusting, feeling his lumpy hands on her own skin. But, she dealt with it because she never knew when she'd ever be let go again or if he'd throw a fit and up killing her the next day. It just so happened that on the day he was letting her out to feed her, he'd left the door unlocked by mistake. She didn't hesitate, she couldn't. She ran. She ran out of the door and ran down the stairs, he was none the wiser. Her legs hadn't been used in a long time and she kept stumbling and falling, but she didn't stop. Even as rocks and sharp objects bit into her feet, cracking them, she didn't stop. She'd memorized the path back to the hedge to reach home. He'd taken her down this path many a time for walks and strolls whenever he walked his possessions. And it wasn't until as she was leaving that she realized she never knew it's name... and she didn't care.

Reaching the mortal relm, she was naked, cold, dirty, and starving. She'd appeared in the same place she was taken... her older daughter Alice's room. However, it was empty. Moving quietly, she searched for any sign of her family and... nothing. It was as if they were never there... there was a new couple living there if the pictures were anything to go by. Stepping outside, there were all these things that she never knew about. Unfamiliar and horrifying. She ran... again. She'd managed to change into human form and had stolen some clothes, doing her best to get to New York in this unfamiliar world. Her parents had told her that, if she needed them, to come to New York and she would be welcomed.

She made it there a few weeks later after hitching a ride from a few people and managing to steal some money in order to pay for a flight to New York. She did some... not so good things. Making it there, she searched for her parents the best she could, going to the address she'd repeated in her head like a mantra during her time in captivity. She'd always wanted to believe she'd escape, after all. However, she was horrified to find out that she was already there. Or, at the very least, someone who looked like her. She'd banged on the door, pleading for them to recognize that it was her. But, her family thought that she was some crazy woman trying to hurt them while they were having a nice dinner to celebrate her daughter Alice's engagement.

She was chased away with threat of a shotgun to the face and she had to leave. She realized she was on her own and used her remaining money to buy a small apartment in the shady side of New York. She got a job as a waitress at some kind of lounge. That's all she'd been doing, working and sleeping with little in between. She lives as comfortably as she can considering she's constantly looking over her shoulder and has no family and friends. The only reason she got the job was because the owner found her attractive and has been trying to get into her pants ever since. She gets paid well enough and can afford to go out and buy stuff but she doesn't. She saves her money and doesn't do anything that could draw attention to herself. (As far as she knows.) It's not the best life or even a really good one. But, she's alive and away from him. She'll take what she can get.

Personality: Prior to her capture, Robin was a confident girl. Sure, for the time period she was a bit of an oddity. Willing to stand up for herself and being anything but a submissive. However, these character traits only mutated when she was captured and let go. Her confidence turned a recklessness. Sure, she didn't want to get caught by any fae ever again. However, with other humans? She's no longer really scared of anything that's not fae or supernatural related. She is bluntly honest and has this feisty temper that developed after being unable to speak for herself for what felt like hundreds of years. Her ire for anything submissive turned her into a control freak. She despises being unable to control everything about her life. From what she wears to what she eats. If she wants to do something, even if on a whim, she'll do it. When she was a doll, she was never able to do even the most simple of things like feed herself or bathe herself. This will be different. She'll never let anyone control her ever again.

She's also anything but loud. At least, as long as you don't make her angry. She's not quiet to the point where she is afraid to speak or would be more likely to curl into herself then approach someone. Nothing like that. It's just that she's more of an observer. Being in a doll, whenever you weren't played with, you were forced to just sit on a shelf and stare. Just watch what was going on around you. Sure, it was boring. But, doing that made you observant and made you notice even the tiniest things. Robin just naturally falls back into that quiet state and just watches everything. It makes her great at noticing small details and ticks about people. She may come across as uncaring, aloof, or even crazy considering her being rash and being incapable of not thinking through decisions that don't involve fae. But, she is one of the most caring people you'll ever meet. She was a mother of three, don't forget that. Caring for others is embedded in her DNA. No matter how much she may try and fight those instincts, if she sees injustice or cruelty, she will act.

Skills: She is good at lying and sucking up to people, able to usually get what she wants from people. This comes from her having to lie to her captor in order to get extra time outside the doll or just to eat on her own. She's good at negotiations and sweet-talking, what can she say?

She's also a pretty great cook and, interestingly enough, she's a great dancer. Her husband and she used to go dancing every weekend either by themselves or with friends. She's, uh, good with random trivia and her skills with guitar are pretty good. Childhood and all that, even if she doesn't remember exactly how this happened.

Supernatural Powers: She has the ability to speak to dolls, able to communicate with them and have them talk back. She can just make small talk with them or ask them to keep an eye out for people or ask them if they'd seen others.

She also has a slight sensitivity to magic, mostly just enough to feel if it's near. She'd been exposed to a lot of it during her time in captivity.

Robin, if need be, can control dolls. Some dolls are empty, with no voices inside of them or life whatsoever. Those are the dolls she can control. Using her thoughts, she can have them do whatever she wants. Whether it be grab something, make something, or even fight someone if need be. But, those kinda dolls are hard to fine.

She can also turn into a doll that looks just like her, useful if she needs to heal. However, break and destroy the doll... destroy her.

Weaknesses: Due to her desire for control, she has a habit of not thinking things through. Sometimes taking really risky actions just because she wants to. Unless, of course, it involves the fae. She has an almost paralytic fear of the fae, afraid that if she gets caught she'll be sent back into the doll and to her cruel captor.

She is also claustrophobic with a fear of cramped and dark spaces. She is also allergic to blueberries and has this irrational fear of technology. Hmm, it might not be best described as a fear. More of an annoyance with technology considering she's not good with it and anything even somewhat advanced has a tendency to... malfunction.

Possessions: Apart from some of the obvious items, 3 of those that standout are.

1. Her wedding ring, she has never taken it off even when she was trapped inside a doll.

2. When she was escaping, she grabbed a large black overcoat to cover herself with. It was all she wore when she escaped and when she arrived in the human world. She didn't wear it since then, keeping it only as a souvenir to remember that she escaped. However, she does sense this strange magical energy from it. She'd assumed it was because of where it was from but... she's not sure.

3. An acoustic guitar she'd bought. It was one of the only things she'd bought for entertainment apart from books... she has a lot of them. It was something she bought on a whim and doesn't play it often. But, it feels like a connection to her past so... she doesn't get rid of it.

Other:
A quirk: She has an obsession with animals. Like, it doesn't matter the species or whatever. If she sees a dog, or a cat, or a lion, she wants to pet it.
Favorite Food: Tacos. Tacos are awesome.
Theme Song: Hmm... Control by Halsey.
Whatever: The movie Jumanji is awesome.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by coffeetime
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coffeetime

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

Name: Bridget O’Dunn

Age: 24 (born in 1993)

Gender: Female

Seeming: Wizened

Court:

Appearance:

History:

Personality:

Skills:

Supernatural Powers:

Weaknesses:

Possessions:


Other: I’ll come back later if I think of some…. Burnt out at this point lol.

Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Medjedovic
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Medjedovic Not a Smart Man

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Pathfinder
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Pathfinder A walking disaster

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Name:
Peter

Age:
27 (Born in 1970)

Gender:
Male

Seeming:
Ogre

Court:
N/A

Appearance:

Mask: Peter is a gargantuan man, towering over most men at a staggering 7'4. His entire body carries the story of pain and hard labour, from his tanned, leathery skin to the rippling muscles that lay underneath them. Even streaks of soot and dust seem to pepper his body and clothes, inevitably returning to his person no matter how many times he scrubs them off. Normally this combination of features would make him a fairly intimidating figure, however pity seems to be the most common. Wicked scars cover his body, mostly old burns that cover his arms, legs, and parts of his chest, and claw wounds from fending off underground beasties marking his shoulders and stomach. However the the real monsters are the ones on his back. A ragged mess of ugly scars that could have only come from a whip. With nothing to be said about the destroyed hole that would have held his left eye.

Mien: Dropping the mask is as explosive as it is terrifying. His flesh blackens and becomes cracked, a inner flame corrupting his flesh into a blasted wasteland. The empty eye socket that once held his left eye is filled with a roaring flame while his right eye becomes painfully bloodshot and wild eyed. Peter's mouth appears to have been sewed shut, but with flesh rather than any thread and the fires that burn inside spill out of his mouth like a dragon before the flame. His tongue has long since burned away and his voice seems to emanate somewhere deep within his chest, giving his voice a deep, dangerous quality that he can't really help with. The fresher scars on his shoulders and stomach open but do not bleed, instead ash and embers seem to spill out and waft about in a choking aura that gives him the smell of ash and burnt flesh when angry. Finally iron bars poke out of his flesh, peppering the right side of his chest, shoulders, and right arm. Some of them grow to wicked lengths that must be snapped off and they have also pushed out his fingernails and teeth, replacing them with sharp black iron.

History:
It could be said that Peter never really lived before he was spirited away, just barely ten years old at the time. However he was happy, he had a father he looked up to, a mother who loved him with all her heart, with a new addition to the family on the way. Peter couldn't have been happier, and with a hike to Mount St. Helens on the way, how could anything go wrong?

Naturally everything went wrong when, while walking near the mountain a decent sized earthquake caused the fury of hell to be unleashed on earth. Mount St. Helens exploded, the weakened earth and stone causing an avalanche of superheated ash and stone charging down the mountain side. To this day the sound haunts Peter, along with the look on his mother's face as a long, clawed arm reached through a crack in the ground and yanked her only son through before being incinerated.

Peter's trip through the hedge was particularly violent as the True Fae who stole him, Bergentrückung, cared very little for his new toy's wellbeing. Half mad and beyond scared by the time Peter was taken to Bergentrückung's domain, Peter was soon strapped down into a table and... examined. If one horribly thing could be said about Fae medicine, is that it is tragically effective. After his master was satisfied with poking through his guts Peter was sewn back up, slapped with a salve that healed everything up, and tossed into the mines with everyone else.

The work was hard, with Peter going to sleep with bloody and broken hands more than anything else for the first few years but the worst of it came from the other Ogres. They ignored Peter at best or took out their own pain on him at worst, with the only exception of Geraldine. Geraldine was a relative newcomer, like Peter, and she did everything in her power to protect him from the horrors of the mine. Unfortunately, she never did have much power. More often than not she got in between the aggressors and Peter before taking the beating for him. And so it went on, Peter growing stronger and his body twisting to better accommodate his labours while Geraldine grew weaker.

Geraldine was always a little weaker than everyone else, not physically, but emotionally... or maybe she was stronger, peter was never sure. Nonetheless she never gave into the heartlessness, tucking away the bit of you that feels pain and compassion so that she could bare with the weight of everything. So it's no surprise that one day, she just gave up. After a particularly hard beating and... other things, Geraldine just decided she had had enough and let go. Right before she passed she apologized to Peter before handing him an old, trashed ring that she had been keeping a secret. Peter was inconsolable, years of pain, anger, and frustration bubbling over into a sobbing wreck that quickly changed into a screaming rage.

Before he even knew what he was doing Peter had tackled one of the bastards and began to rip him apart. Flesh, blood, and bone flew across the Ogre pit as Peter dug into his work. Then he went after another, and another. By the time Bergentrückung found out what was happening Peter had killed five of the seven bastards, and he was decidedly not happy. No one broke his toys but him.

He placed Peter into his personal chamber where in he tortured Peter for months. Disassembled and put back together, made into kindling for his cauldron, and his personal favorite, being forced to drink molten gold. By the time Bergentrückung had felt that Peter had learned his lesson Peter had lost two things, his eye and any scrap of the young boy who first came here. For the next seven years Peter fostered a deep, seething hatred for not only Bergentrückung but for the metals and jewels he was constantly digging up. It grew until finally, Peter did something about it.

One day, as Bergentrückung made his rounds around his forge, Peter had snuck behind a great vat of molten gold and waited. When "The King Under the Mountain" came to inspect his ingots Peter pushed with ever ounce of his might into tipping the vat over. The pain was indescribable, his flesh searing as he strained. It worked and the cry of pain is a sound that Peter will savor for the rest of his days, the feeling of a giant hand crushing his ribs is something he's less eager to remember. As it turns out, it's much harder to kill a True Fae than it is an Ogre.

Screaming with the fury of Mount St. Helens herself, Bergentrückung smashed Peter into the rock before taking him outside and throwing him like a stone. Peter landed like a comet into the Hedge. He most certainly would have died if not for the actions of a more benign Hobgoblin finding his broken body. They nursed him back to health and even gave him an exit, all Peter had to do in return was sign a contract for one "Favor" that the Hobgoblin would come collect sometime in the future. Peter knew not to trust the thing completely, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Since then he has been bumming around Oregon, lost in a world he doesn't recognize. However it hasn't been all bad, in fact he's ecstatic. Sure he's always worried about something coming to get him but he's doing that while being Free. It isn't easy, it isn't hardly fair, but he's alive and he's free.


Personality:
The easiest way to describe peter would be a child with every ounce of innocence beaten out of them. He was forced to grow up fast and has been deprived of even the barest minimum of intimacy and compassion, with no higher knowledge than that of a ten year old. However this isn't always a terribly thing.

Despite everything Peter was able to retain his sense of wonder. He would stand awestruck when he found a cluster of glowing fungus in the mines, or try to catch a small insect out of curiosity. Even now, the level of technology is mind boggling compared to what was around during the 70's and anything new he learns is another crazy miracle in his eyes. Ultimately his escape has installed an optimism that has been missing for a really long time.


Skills:
Earthbreaker: part of Peter's duties under Burgentruckung was the excavation of his endless mines in search of coal, gems, and precious metals. Because of this he can spot the weaknesses in any stone structure with ease.

Bonecracker: A common danger in the mines are the many types of beasts that like to make their homes in the earth and, since no tools were given, Peter and those like him were forced to adopt a fighting style that involved blows that would cripple and agonize their foe.

Supernatural Powers:
Compared to many other Changelings Peter is pretty tame. He is incredibly strong, even by Ogre standards, and his skin resistant all but the hottest flames. His sense of hearing and smell is highly developed, even his remaining eye is highly adapted to low light vision. However he does have one, more supernatural ability. When sufficiently angry Peter tends to catch on fire, a cloak of searing flames that does little harm to Peter but should he get his hands on you, well... hope you like the smell of bacon.

Less supernatural but in line with his ordeal, Peter has a monstrous pain tolerance. Blows that would cripple normal people barely register in his mind.


Weaknesses:
-Ekrixphobia, or the fear of explosions. Anything louder than a small firework can set it off and every time it does he is ripped back to that ten year old boy, facing a wall of ash and fire. Peter begins to sweat, hyperventilate, and dry heave as he tries to run in the opposite direction of the blast. However he can also fly into primal rage, Fight taking over flight and discerning friend or foe becomes difficult in the haze though this is much more rare.

-Seeing jewels and precious metals inspire an intense desire to destroy them and Peter gets antsy when he can't act on it.

-Extreme light sensitivity, with bright lights giving him migraines and little to no vision.

-Screaming Crowds, and incredibly loud, sustained noises in general will painfully overwhelm his senses very quickly.

-Pain Tolerance, Peters ability, or lack thereof, to feel pain has lead to him having a very unhealthy relationship with the feeling. on the practical side he doesn't actually know how hurt he is most of the time and in addition has taken to harming himself idly in search of any physical sensation.


Possessions:
-Geraldine's Ring, a crude, tarnished gold ring that is the only exception to Peter's hatred of precious metals.

-Gargoyles, A pair of sunglasses that were given to him soon after he returned to Earth. They do a good job on hiding his facial scarring.


Other:
Darren Korb - Build That Wall

Peter is basically illiterate, his ability to read having atrophied in the constant struggle in the Ogre pits. Though given some time he'll be able to pick it up again.

Technically Peter is dead, one of the 57 casualties of the Mount St. Helens eruption.
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