O L L I E M O R G E N S T E R N◆ Twenty-three. ◆ 16th, January. ◆ 190 cm. ◆ Guardian.▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲Fitted with persistent sprucing and delicate tenderizing to his harsh masculinity, Ollie is impressed upon with both labels of brooding sophistication. With a brow that sunders over pools of anxious ebonies and a visage that hosts such deep set eyes, he oft appears contemplative and fixated in a perpetual shadow of gloom. These are purposely laden fixtures to his presentation, of course, for attractions of the seeded thought and heavily fixated thinkers are tend to draw and attract various components that befit and benefit them. Ollie plays will into his appearance and heralds the simpers and smirks of a man well endowed into his own advantage and thickly layers his expressions without hindrance and flaw. His posture is forward and confident, gilded in wiry muscle and sinew corded tight through his musculature that is fed consistent weight of power and spiritual strength. Augmenting his features of a tall stature, Ollie has carefully illustrated the swarthy complexion of his skin with traces of ink and creativity. Each mark of ebonette and feathery greys are framed in the bend and execution of his body, and are well aligned to each detail of his form: artful in their intentions, and leading to a mysterious complexity.
With tresses of a brunette appeal, his wardrobe interchanges through various leagues of fashion, bearing familiar hues of greys and ebonies and tinged with scarlet finery to embellish his debut. Ollie follows through the rapid increases of appeal in cloth to whichever is better fitting to the masses, altering it as much as his expressions, and tending to reflect and mimic rather than construct his own individuality - such suits him rather well.
◆ I D E O L O G YIdeally, he’d be a gentleman. Equipped with finesse, smooth intonations, and the accentuating tone of a man befitted to his countenance of gentry and sophistication. Regaled within his spool of phrases and cajoling timbre: the voice that caresses and leaps over chasms of emotional aptitude and differences allows the idealistic chivalric whims of his altruistic nature to preen and glimmer within hopeless caverns. Ideally, he’d be a royal that oozed both exburance and charm, without censor to his dominion of sublime radiance and cool reflection. It’s a commonly known factor to the wiles of Ollie that he is carefully constructed, illustrated and poised neatly to the judgment and inflection of his peers. A carefully laden portrait that neither bears or allows any fissure to mar the surface of his perfectly fortified armour of reflective, adaptive, glass.
Ollie is a mirror, a pure and unsullied method of feedback that permits him to quickly shift and conduct his facial expressions and pitch of his vocals to a pinnacle of appeal and attraction. He possess a void of masks; the reproduction of his empathy and apathy and habit of silent contemplation and observation of comrades and enemies alike. Each are treated uniquely the same, every individual to grace his debut receives a cursory pass over and probing inquiries until properly labeled and equipped with the appropriate interaction that befits their own personality and qualms. There are very few whom are aware of his rituals of conduct, and such are not to be mistaken that he is wary of honesty and truth. In privacy, Ollie sheds and dismembers into his dissociation and degrees of universal detachment. His perception and overall consensus of cruelty and universal events blend and bleed into an monochromatic discrepenancy in comparison to his own disturbances.
As such, laden beneath the glass is a brittle soul, wreathed in bitterness; marginalized at best, reviled and banished at the worst, and doesn’t herald a minuscule impression of sympathy. His heart weighs akin to the depths of a stone and is just as grey and wrought by nature. It crumbles and disperses, permitting him to extremes of savagery and sadistic inclinations to mortals alike, and he doesn't care. He’s the bastard of all bastards that hosts the simpers of charming princes and kings, and wields the complexity of a man who desires death - but will always be denied his rest.
◆ B A C K G R O U N DThe city—state of Aster had no perception or gallant knowledge that they would spawn the existence of Ollie Morgenstern, festooned in ridges and peaks with their security impaled into the bedrock of the mountain of Mattius that loomed above their refinement and wealth. Being snug and secured to the range provided amble trade, gallantry that cantered suit, and provided foundation and fortitude to the universal resources of alloys that Mattius was coveted for. The Regent sired contracts with Nexus Industries to pillage the spires for their bounty, and in recompense Aster prospered, becoming a celebrity of locations within Tenebra. In a natural procession, the Regent seated himself pleasantly in his upper echelon of some hodgepodge formula of nobility and the epitaph of the Deveraux become both beloved and infamous from the muttered musings of the kingpin being some "sell out." Much to his ignorance and wealth, the Regent Deveraux was eclipsed by his increasing dalliances, and in careless juncture, by the conceiving of his numerous brood.
Whilst most were paid for the silence and swore to forsake the claim of succession, it was Ollie's vapid and self torture, vane obsessed mother that muddled and violated his birth rite by her increasing, psychotic episodes of worthless pining towards her vexation. She mooned and crowed for her misshapen affections until Ollie Morgenstern was left destitute in the dregs of abandonment and to fend for himself while whispers of death and ruin lurked in the eclipse of an increasing parasitic stigmata. Described as some forlorn orphan in the Aster slums, he fended for himself within a community of urchins and would presently deny any affiliation towards his short life of poverty. To this day, he denies all manners of his origins.
But all these intricacies paled and bled into the diluted nightmare of his initial upbringing when he was selected by one Julian Leaonhardt: a man whom sported no business in the slums of Aster, but proclaimed in triumph that he had found just what he was looking for.
Ollie's introduction into Oakridge was thus carried upon the unity of a contract, with his sire securing them position into the academy under various pretenses and intentions. By the leeway of Nexus affiliations, and their own permits to seed themselves within the vastness of Oakridge, Ollie was permitted to cultivate his spiritual aptitude under the careful tutelage of Julian, and it was here he grasped the finesse of masking his empathy and procuring the void of his soul into a fixture of literal glass. He's been a pinnacle of mystery since, gilded by the simpers of a prince, but no less probing to the curious mind that desires to inquire after his affiliation to a certain scientist.
▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲
▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲ ◆ W A R F A R E[
◇] Whilst the common preference of the traditional phalanx of military warriors opt for melee weaponry, Ollie has differed away from these consistencies in favour of his own fighting style. His profound psychical stature pales in comparison to comrades stacked and laden with strength and power, as his finesse lies within the agile and rapid performance that his method of battle conduct thus requires. The unique weapon that rests nimbly within his ink laced grasp, the sleek, ebony finish of
The Magus Bow glimmers in bounds of translucent energy and true to its customization, responds profoundly to his touch alone. Crafted by the weapon division of his sire's conglomerate, the Magus Bow taps into the reserves of his spiritual manifest, sanctioning the spirits to impart, briefly, to the draw of his bow and to intertwine with the specially crafted arrows. Impacted with speed and accuracy, the Magus Bow never misses its' mark.
Lain in dormant, the spirits that have found refuge in Ollie were initially steeped into slumber, as if originally finding haven within the urchin he denies he once was. And later were brought to fruition by the awakening of his life when he met Julian and was betwixt numerous Guardians and potentials teeming with their own impart of energy. His prominent use of magic has conducted a series of tests and simulations to breach the threshold of his magical endurance, and whilst empowered and endowed by his religious practice and summons, it has presented Ollie as both dangerous and yet brittle by the twist of his very essence being so warped by the mass of spirits within.
◇ Guntar. [ Dark ] [ - Curse ] [ - Poison ] [ - Imperil ] A deep pitch of vibration is the sanctioned warning of this spirit, a festering wallow and timbre that bears kinship to the droning hum of extraterrestrial origins. With snaps and fissures of ebony forming to the taut pull of his arm, breaking across skin and bone and glimmering with a circumference of nebulous scarlet to outline the jagged projections. These spirits are aphotic, void like in their lack of light, and harsh in the incredible draw they pull from within their host and infect their enemies. Cinching his fingers tight, into a fist, the spirits gather and pool around his gesture and are capable of being released in rapid succession akin to roaring bullets; effectively willing his arm to be a cannon of energy and aid to his preference of range. These spirits value hostility, sadism, savagery, and solidarity, they manifest in crimson-rimmed apparitions of shallow ebony with non-descriptive faces and slivers of alabaster splintering in mock grins.
◇ Schwarze. [ Dark ] [ Fire ] [ - Meltdown ] [ - Flamestroke ] [ - Nightmare ] A wailing crescendo builds not only in the mind, but also within the heart, and thus Ollie cringes and bears the pain as fire and ash build and swell. Burning ever black and singed with fissures of molten carmine that erupt from within and lash out in a aggressive, jagged flame of blackened fire to sunder his foes and bearing them weak to the dark of his soul. Originally crossing the threshold of release in a torrential and hellacious manner, Ollie can also permit and refine the jagged flame to twine and twirl around his arrows knocked within the Magus Bow; lining the tragic fire into accuracy rather than massive swells. These spirits adhere and achieve leagues of woe, enmity and a deformed concept of penance. Manifesting in the shapes of avians with pooling shadows that bear sweltering heat, they screech terribly in their own indignation be it at friend or foe.
◇ Böse [ Dark ] [ - Pain ] [ - Terror ] [ + Leech ] Boiling in a viscous, foul and churning void of deeply seeded sable that is reminiscent of an oil slick, these spirits gather and swell into apparitions of whirling tendrils of varying leagues of thickness. Resembling a myriad of ligaments of mortal likeness and tentacle life forms, they assemble around his body, usually at the plantation of his stance and lash out in defensive purposes rather than seeking harm and true pain. In the event of contact, they pitch and grasp, tugging and pulling until embracing the enemy in their oil slick infection, absorbing life and delivering pain and agony with bulbous masses tending to cling to skin like a sickly growth. These spirits favour isolation, secrecy, despair and depression, and thus manifest as a man, bent over in terrible sorrow with slick arms bunched around the wispy figure.
◇ Ravager.
◇ Synergist.
◇ Saboteur.
◇ Lucky.
Member
CabbageAngel,
Antlers,
Eddie Brock,
AuthorialTheory,
AmongHeroes,
Kefka Palazzo,
Exit,
Mjolnir,
Lunamaria Hawke,
Altered Tundra
