The Vessels of the Gods -- character cache for bunnyshadow & mothamongwasps

[mothamongwasps]

Name : Fyedka Samakia
Gender : Male
Age : 26
Deity : Truth/Death

Personality : Having spent a life in preparation for carrying a massive burden, allegedly for the good of Mankind, Fyedka is something of an intense individual. His overwhelming calm was the outcome of decades of meditative and disciplinary training at the behest of the Cult of Truth. He and the other potential Vessels were raised in the cult's Temple like monks, practicing in personal neutrality and letting go of worldly attachments in hopes of manifesting the Deity unto themselves and bringing about the age of Truth. In his youth, Fyedka was prone to passionate reactions and extremely resistant to what he was told may be his destiny. But he was groomed to disconnect himself from his emotions and accept his reality as it was. And he was programmed to believe that it was his duty to do so, despite having no desire to be chosen to carry the deity.
However, since the Manifestation of Truth has actually befallen him, and the first channeling was disastrous, Fyedka finds himself harboring feelings of darkness and resentment for the burden he is forced to carry. The cult's beliefs do not actually align with Truth, and that betrayal has stirred a deep and seething anger in him that has been growing since its inception. As a result he spends almost every waking second working to overcome it as an imminent prophecy draws nearer, which only feeds back into the cycle of resentment.

Appearance : Immaculate posture and sharp angles. Broad shoulders and narrow waist. Fluid lines and sleek muscle. Fyedka and other prospective Vessels were trained not just for power, but agility, and it shows. More mesomorph than ectomorph, but he's lean and fast and flexible. He bears very few scars on his body outside of the remnants of early combat training errors. Possessed of a deep, warm, sun-touched complexion and straight, dark hair that hasn't been cut in several years and hits his lower back when loose. A firm jaw and straight nose, stern brows and honey-brown eyes that verge into golden territory. Since receiving the Deity, he has been attended and anointed by acolytes of Truth on a daily basis, much to Fyedka's personal dismay. As such, his skin is soft, face clean-shaven, and and his hair almost always intricately braided and pinned back.

Abilities/Weaponry : The Cult of Truth's martial style is one that delivers fast, precise, disabling blows to crucial junctions, using as few strikes as possible at an intimate range. This is traditionally done by hand with armored gloves, but more modern techniques have developed with specialized weaponry. Fyedka is most practiced at wielding an iron shortstaff and a weighted dagger with an impact pommel, and of course the cestus-like gloves.
Truth does not necessarily supply him with additional strength in combat; rather, the gift given therein is profound precision in the reading of an enemy's movements and a meticulous eye for opportunity. Even when he learns some control over channeling the full spectrum of Truth, Fyedka struggles with containing the energy involved. Using its vision in battle for extended periods is incredibly draining and painful, and may blind him until the next time he dies in extreme cases. Death, Truth's other face, will almost certainly never aide him in battle but will resurrect him if he dies, whether he likes it or not. At least until his purpose is met.

History/Other : Fyedka was one of about thirty children to have been trafficked and sold to the Cult of Truth when their Rune-Reader had discerned that Truth would manifest itself before them if they provided a worthy vessel at the time of its coming. Fyedka was seven or eight, too old to forget that he was there against his will, unlike some of the younger ones, but eventually gave up on extracting himself from their intentions anyway. For close to twenty years, he and the others were handled and groomed and trained with the intention of making them ideal pinnacles of strength and enlightenment, to try and suffice the needs of their God.
When the convergence came, it was Fyedka whose third eye was torn open to view the explosive madness of infinity, and from this he pulled a prophecy:
Destruction was coming to take the Temple - the Cult of Truth was going to burn.
Fyedka died for the first time, speaking those words, burned up with the radiation of the God within him - and encountered its other face on the other side before returning to the living world anew with his memory of the experience fully intact.

 

[bunnyshadow]

"They offered him the world, if he but sold his soul."​

Name: Azrael [Help from God] Durai [Conqueror]
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Deity: Destruction/War/Chaos

Personality: A man who typically uses brute force to achieve his goals, it is surprising that he can somehow just as easily put on an alluring mask and use smooth-spoken words to charm and manipulate. Upon first encounter with most people, he appears to be levelheaded and easygoing; but this façade quickly falls away the moment any of his many nerves become frayed. As temperamental as he is cruel, he is constantly seeking any opportunity to draw blood for the sake of power. Emotional to a fault and easily prone to rage, he lashes out furiously once it feels to him that things are no longer going his way. His feelings run shallow, and he has a short fuse that causes him to jump at any opportunity to take the shortest route to his goals regardless of who becomes harmed in the way. Greedy and hungry for power, he would rather go through the agony of a painful death than to surrender or allow somebody to best him in battle.

Appearance: Not extraordinarily bulky in a way that would impede his alacrity, but he is still fairly muscular and athletic. Strong arms, calloused hands, and sinewy legs from his misadventures that have also gathered a variety of scars across his robust form. Ash blonde hair frames one side of his face in a haphazard manner, and the longer tresses sometimes fall loosely across his forehead. The other side is buzzed neatly and articulates his sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, despite his softly arched brows and delicate nose that gives his features a softer look when compared to his fiery personality. His eyes are a striking sapphire color, interwoven seamlessly with different shades of deeper blues.

Abilities/Weaponry: A master of any hand held weapons, able to wield spears, daggers, scythes and others with deadly precision. So long as it's in his hands and has the ability to destroy or inflict suffering, he can use it with lethal accuracy. His godlike prowess with such weapons was a gift from the Deity of Destruction, but he pays a heavy price in return for manifesting the god's powers; as channeling this deity's combat skills will cause whatever weapon in his hands to coarse with unfettered energy. An effect of this would be the bruising of mortal flesh, breaking of bones and the incineration of skin defined by the competency of the strikes he deals to his victims.

History/Other: As of now, he isn't yet aware that he is channeling the power of godly forces yet. His nights are spent restless as he dreams of a many limbed figure that is sometimes cold, sometimes angry, and sometimes alluring, but always filling him with siren song visions of a future where the world is at his feet. He travels the barren landscape of the ruined earth, straying from town to town and taking treks through forests, mountains and valleys in search of something more, something he can't yet identify yet. Everywhere he goes, destruction follows, and the stench of death clings to his body like a repugnant perfume. In recent days, he follows a pull towards a nameless location with faceless figures, as if a greater power is drawing him to this unknown destination, calling out to him to kill every living being he can find there and on the way there. He'd always been a violent person, but never before has he experienced such carnal fury and bloodlust than after his visions began. Azrael will soon give up everything he had to become a vessel for the deities that influence his actions, his greed for power and strength a perfect fit for his god. Not only that, his willingness to ravage his own body in order to dominate enemies makes him a perfect fit for his deity.

During his younger years, his family [mother + father + sister] were slain by raiders who stumbled upon his village. After travelling for most of his youth making ends meet by stealing or killing, he [22] found the raiders responsible for his misfortune [recognized through the tune they hummed over the fire, that they had similarly whistled during the attack]. They housed him for a week, and he choose the path of forgiveness once he realized that they had changed their ways and now sought redemption for their sins. On the eighth night, he had dreams of a monstrous deity that sung of vengeance, and he allowed the idea of retribution to devour him. With the help of this mysterious entity, he slayed them all like how they had similarly slain his village during his childhood. For the next two years, he travelled following a mysterious pull while being possessed by the god that had coaxed him to choose wrath.

 

[mothamongwasps]

Name - Lord Fyedka of the House Samakia
Gender - Male
Age - 29
Faith - Agnostic

History and Business - Fyedka is the heir to a noble house that was deeply in debt at the time of his inheritance. While raised in a strictly aristocratic manner, he has since stooped to include human trafficking within his trade portfolio in order to help recoup the losses suffered at his father's hands before his passing. His estate is slowly regaining its former glory, but his personal involvement in the slave trade is widely felt to be in poor taste amongst the upperclass. He is considered to be discreet, shrewd, and not overly cruel to those he buys and sells, but distinctly cold and businesslike in his dealings with them. He stakes his reputation on doing trade with elite clientele, and specializes in pairing his buyers with high end domestic chattel. He keeps a small, close counsel of business partners and advisors, pays them well, and expects their loyalties. He is disinterested in finding a wife, though knows this to be a moderate necessity for producing an heir.

Personality - Difficult to amuse, not keen to jest, Lord Samakia is notoriously stern and doesn't prioritize social engagements beyond the bare minimum he must attend to keep his estate is improving standings. The things that draw a chuckle out of him tend to be dark in nature. His interactions with other nobles are strategic-but-fluid, and his was clearly raised to know when to nod and smile and play along, and when to say utterly devastating quips to highlight incompetence and frivolity in his peers. Strongly prefers to gamble on cards and horses than on the fights at the Gladiator ring. He once had a roguish streak in his younger days, but now those few whom he might consider calling friends consider him too serious to be good company for long visits - he is his father's son in that way.

Appearance - Tall, lean-muscled, and predisposed to proper posture, he holds himself with a rigid sort of confidence. He bears a warm skin tone that makes him appear to spend more time in the sun than he actually does. He is decidedly striking -- golden-hazel eyes, a straight nose, firm brows, and a sharp jawline cut impactful expressions and hard looks with ease. Well-groomed and clean-shaven, he keeps long black hair pulled back from his face in a simple braid. He favors dark colors and stern cuts to his clothing, and is not often seen without gloves on his hands. While fastidious in the care for his belongings and appearance, he is not hesitant to roll up his sleeves for dirtier work, and has the strength to undertake labor below his station if need be.

 

[bunnyshadow]

"The world has not been kind to you, it is true. But that does not excuse your sins."

"You speak of sins, my lord, but whose feet do those sins lie?"​

Name: Azrael [Angel of Death] Terral [Survivor]
Gender: Male
Age: 27

Personality: Reckless and vindictive, he is oftentimes consumed by the rage he feels about the unjust cards he's been dealt. Rash and impulsive, he is consistently ignorant to the consequences of his actions. Angry with the life he's lived, he holds on to an undying hatred towards all the people who have wronged him in the past and who wrong him in the present.

Appearance: He is tall (6'1) and muscular, with broad shoulders, a sculpted back, strong arms, a defined chest and toned abs— his athletic body stemming from years of heavy training and lifting. He has light ash blonde hair chopped haphazardly at jaw length, and stray locks often fall into his face. His bright irises are deep blue with speckles of lighter gray that make them appear stormy upon first glance. He has many dark and lengthy scars cross-crossing on his back from his time as a slave. His inability to accept his role in society shows in the lashings he has received over the years for disobedience. A tattoo of a black symbol is located on the left side of his neck, translating/representing the word 'slave' in the native language of his continent.

History: He was born on the continent of Dvahi within the folds of a cult that worshipped a deity known as Destruction. His mother and father, alongside his little sister were zealots towards this god they worshipped, depicted to be a many armed being wielding weapons forged from the blood of enemies. Like many of the young children within the cult, he was trained to be a merciless killer and in the ways of how to bring Death in the most painful ways possible. Upon the behest of the elders, it was one day claimed that their deity demanded the death of the royal family of the Durahi kingdom they resided in. None of the peers that became of age and were then sent to assassinate the nobles ever came back, and with each one that was sent to commit the murders; it grew increasingly more difficult over the next few years. Azrael [18] successfully slayed the monarchs excluding their son, and was effectively tattooed on the neck and forced to a life of slavery within the capital to make up for his transgressions, serving in Dvahi for many years until he was eventually redirected to another continent to be sold as a gladiator [27] for a high price for his skill set.