Post by Marshal Corvus on Jan 6, 2015 17:58:46 GMT -5
On The Surface
Name: Marshal Corvus
Height & Weight: 5’9” and 180
Hair & Eyes: Short blonde hair kept in punk style spikes, Black Irises
Character Inspiration: Animal I have Become
While Marshal keeps the clothing typical of a slobbish youth, he defies the assumptions mounted on him for doing so. He keeps everything neat and tidy. While his attire is predominantly band t-shirts and other miscellaneous unimportant items, he hangs them all in a meticulous fashion. His closet is organized from lightest to darkest colors, lightest being on the left and fading to dark on the right. His frame is lanky and nothing overly impressive so the shirts typically hang and billow around him, giving him the illusion of being some form of specter.
Behind The Eyes
- Fierce- He doesn't half ass anything he does, from battle to menial chores and housework he gets his shit done. He’s yet to meet anyone who matches his intensity.
Growing up the only "man in the house" Marshal had to be everything his absent father figure wasn't. Isis was his little sister, and his mother instilled in him that he had to protect her. He had to be the one to pull her through the hard times when their mother was busy, and often times that lead to him having to be overly enthusiastic about how things would turn out and how they could do it and how they could make it through.
- Confident- Marshal knows his limits and doesn't exceed them, or even try to. He never intentionally gets himself into anything he doesn't thing he can handle. (You will remember me for Centuries...)
Being the eldest, Marshal had to shoulder a lot of responsibility. When things got hard for their small family, he had to have faith that things would be okay. His mother and Isis looked to him to be strong in the face of looming danger, even from a young age he couldn't openly show weakness. He couldn't stand to fault in his decision making, he had to do things right and know he was doing them right.
- Poised- He's said to move with grace and precision, never faltering or missteping. Even when he's caught off guard he tends to come back with a well put together response.
Having to look after his sister, Marshal grew up knowing bizarre questions were coming left and right. He grew accustomed to having to answer peculiar questions in a manor to which her younger mind could interpret and decipher. Eventually, this leaked into other aspects of his life and he just began to anticipate things happening and accounting for them just in the event they did occur.
- Strong Willed- If he has any inkling of desire to do something, he’ll get it done. He’s driven to fulfill tasks, and he won’t stop until either the mission is done or he’s dead.
Isis was actually his main drive to do much of anything, and even after she passed he just feels like she's still pushing him. He feels like to not do anything to the best of his ability would be to tarnish her memory and what she stood for in his life while she was still alive and he refuses to do that to her.
- Brave- He’s not without fear, but very little scares him. He doesn't see strong opponents as scary, but rather as challenges.
Isis was a typical little sibling, scared of the dark and monsters in the closet. Marshal, being the eldest and often the only one home, had to deal with things to prove that she was safe. He had no option to leave it alone, even if he was scared shitless, he was the one who had to face things.
- Sarcastic- While his only spoken language is English, he often says he’s fluent in sarcasm. He generally tries to keep it to a minimum, but always manages to fail. (If that's the worst you've got put your fingers back to the keys...)
No sibling relationship would be complete with some form of bickering. Marshal could never bring himself to be outright mean to her, though he saw no problem with taking slight jabs with offhand sarcasm. This is also his fallback for when he inevitably flounders in social situations, he relies on his sarcasm to end the conversation.
- Condescending- Due to his confidence in his abilities and strength, he tends to look down on most other people. Most of the time, it’s unintentional and he tries to compliment but it comes out as an insult.
Marshal was given praise for doing well in taking care of his sister, and in school for his grades (though they eventually declined), so he wound up getting to think he was a very skilled person. While he does have some skills, he tends to look down on other people, similar to how older siblings look down on younger siblings.
- Poor Time Management- He has poor time management, and often times loses track of time. This results in loss of accountability as far as work/relationships.
Marshal never really got the hang of time management, due to having to come home from school and go into 'Nanny mode'. Most children had to practice this to some degree with homework, but he had Isis to look after, so he missed out on that. His mother never really had time to teach him, so he was left with almost no time management skills.
- Cocky- He would have been someone you hated in high school unless you knew him from an early age. He thinks he can do no wrong, and can’t comprehend that he could ever be at fault. (one, nothing wrong with me. two, nothing wrong with me...)
Having to face the monsters in the closet and such, Marshal grew to think he was fairly tough. He began to carry himself in a fashion that exerted confidence, even when he had none, and he never grew out of it and it eventually escalated to his thinking he was better than others (and feeling like he should let them know).
- Poor Social Skills- He can't take social cues to save his life, and often things have to be blatantly pointed out to him. He's socially inept, and often can only join in conversations to drop sarcastic remarks or to tear others down.
Growing up with a sister he had to more or less raise, he learned to care for and communicate with people much younger than himself. Due to this, he fails terribly when it comes to interactions with other adults or peers, and it's been this way for a long period of time. He can't seem to understand social cues and often flounders when exposed to long conversations.
Habits: Marshal has a god awful habit of biting his nails, though due to his fullbring try as he might he can’t bite through his thumb nails.
He has a compulsion to spend any amount of money he has on anything music or band related.
He tends to shy away from people he respects or admires, though people like that are few and far between.
When in a situation where nail biting is unacceptable, Marshal substitutes biting the inside of his.lip.
Reiatsu: His reiatsu flows around (primarily) his lower body, in a smoke like fashion. Other mortals note a cigarette smoke smell when he exerts more than normal. The angrier he becomes, the more violently the smoke swirls around whatever angers him, and the smoke seems to attempt to smother them. Marshal's reiatsu gives off a smoke scent, which tends to hover around him not matter what he does or what he tries to cover it with. Because of this, most people are off put being near him for long periods of time unless they smoke. (The solid black thing is his head, I'm sorry I can't art very well)
Strength Of The World
Marshal is, at his core, afraid. Since his powers awoke in the attack at the graveyard, he’s lived in fear. Beneath his big brother bravado, he’s a man running from the thing that scares him the most: his past. After releasing his fullbring, he loses himself in exactly what he’s running from. With the release of Fear Factor, his mind finally stops fighting the fear and instead embraces it. What takes the place of Marshal is now a beast that is not only filled with fear, but runs on it.
Physical alterations to his body are just the beginning of his power, though more so to unease an opponent than for any real value. The body is covered in soot colored skin which appears deceptively smooth, but is rough to the touch. Coming in contact with it results in a feeling akin to nails on a chalkboard or microphone feedback. His nails also elongate to form claws as sharp as any blade, allowing for efficient and deadly close quarters combat.
The real power of his fullbring is not in those physical changes, but in the substance that coats his body. A oily layer covers the outside his body, seeping in excess from his pores, and it coats most anything he comes in contact with. When a successful attack is made against an opponent, the film rubs off and acts like a poison to the target. While most effective when administered directly to the bloodstream, it can also seep in through the skin. The toxin induces fear into anyone exposed.
The power manifests itself through his nail polish. While the polish doesn't seem to fit him, its a subtle reminder of his sister's death.
Being left without a father is nothing anyone hasn't heard of. Stories are passed around of the ragtag children who run rampant through cities with reckless abandon. Marshal was born to a mother, no farther in sight. No one had seen or heard from the scumbag in nine months. His feeble cries rose in the hospital room, only to be silenced moments later by his mother’s caress. Six years later, Marshal would be given the gift of a sister, one who was quiet and tender, who was everything he wasn't. He was all rough edges, bruises and scrapes. While in contrast, Isis was rounded and delicate. From the moment he first held her, his tiny arms eager to help, he loved his sister.
The two grew up close. Their mother was often busy working split shifts or two jobs just to keep their tiny family afloat. Typically, this would result in Marshal rummaging through their tiny apartment for something he could throw together for his sister. While it was normally bland or charred to a crisp, she humored him and always said it was better than anything she had.
Marshal grew up, but never stopped caring for Isis or watching out for her. When she was 8 and he was 14, he was the one who got her cat out of the tree. He was the one who chased the monsters from the closets and under the bed. Mom was busy, and they both knew it but neither of them cared because they had each other. He discovered his love of music in grade 7 when his music teacher played an album by Lincoln Park. From there he became obsessed with anything and everything punk.
With his new obsession, they drifted apart. When she asked him if he saw the monsters too, he didn't seem to hear her. He brushed her off more and more, as aging siblings tend to do. He began to struggle in school, and due to his workload could no longer care for her as he used to. With the beginning of high school, there was college to think about. No more play time, no more cooking, just school work and sleep.
Isis died weeks after Marshal’s graduation. He graduated at the age of 18, so that put the end of her short life at 12 years. He wept openly at her funeral, and flung himself onto the grave after everyone else had left. He sat for a good half hour before a faint white light appeared before him. He opened his eyes, and through his teary haze he could make out the faint figure of his sister.
She moved without a word, running off into the forest next to the cemetery. Marshal followed, blubbering his apologies. Stumbling over branches and debris, Marshal followed Isis’ ghost to a small clearing. What lay before him was a grotesque...thing that was far from human. It stared at him, beady little eyes taking him in like something that shouldn’t be. It let out and unearthly howl, and he turned to run from the thing. He managed to trip and fall, scraping his thumb nail across his teeth. Then...nothing. Next thing he knew, he woke up on his sister’s grave.
‘She’s dead...she was fucking twelve, god damn it...all she wanted for her birthday was to paint my damn nails. To do something with me, and now she’s gone...fuck this.’ Marshal thought to himself, tears flowing down his face. His tattered jeans and faded Pink Floyd t shirt were dripping wet from the light drizzle, and clung to his frame.
Marshal looked in the distance, trying to pull himself from a nearly forgotten memory. A white light danced before his eyes, and he rubbed them in an attempt to rid himself of it. Upon further inspection, Marshal’s heart stopped, it was Isis...but..she died.
Marshal followed the specter of his sister through the forest near the cemetery, jumping and running after her as fast as he could, but never able to quite catch her. Her giggle, a high pitched chime, rang through the air beckoning him to follow; and follow he did, right to the clearing. There, he saw it, his sister in her funeral attire standing with a glazed stare at...something. It wasn't human, it was something Marshal knew didn't belong on Earth. It was a horror, something he could never forget.
"NO, DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" Marshal roared as the thing reached for Isis, a massive tendril inching to caress her pale face. It turned to face him, a pale flute like object falling from it's mask into the grass. It let out an unholy screech that caused even Isis to cringe. Marshal watched in dumbfound horror as the thing picked her up and drew it near it's gaping mouth.
He almost turned away, but before he could he noticed her head turn. Isis looked at him one last time, her gaze held no scorn, no remorse, only love for her big brother. As he watched, her mouth began to move but he lost sight of it as her head was engulfed by the thing. Marshal stood, numb, he has lost his sister twice now. Seen her dead body, and now her ghost, cast aside like some kind of trash. Anger flared, a bright angry flame in his chest. Words began to form on the tip of his tongue before he realized what Isis had been about to say... 'Run'
Marshal turned, all sense of anger gone. Replaced instead by a fuel, a desire to live, to make sure nothing like that ever happened to someone again so long as he could help it. He ran, much faster than he ever thought he could, and flashes of light danced in his vision. Bursts and flares of emotion bloomed and exploded in his chest with each memory of Isis he thought of. He began to gnaw on his thumb as he saw the edge of the forest, cringing at the taste of nail polish, when he stumbled over a stray branch. He turned to see the thing lumbering after him, it's mask coated in a slick coating of what looked like blood. Black mist curled around the edges of his vision as he began to slip into unconsciousness.
Player Alias: Knox or Alice
Desired Starting GP: Not sure what this is quite yet, so whatever works ig
Where you referred by anyone?: Just googled a bleach rp forum
I'm searching for something I can't reach
Height & Weight: 5'9" 170 lbs
Hair & Eye Color: Blonde & Black
Positive Traits: Loyal, Determined, Curious
Negative Traits: Fearful, Trusting, Regretful
- Born 
- Isis (sister) is born 
- Drifts apart from Isis (beginning of high school) 
- Graduates High School 
- Isis dies after being hit by a drunk driver 
- Sees Isis' soul eaten by a hollow & powers awaken 
- Infected by the Serpent 
- Freed of the Serpent's hold 
Spiritual Description: The feeling of being watched, or a firm presence on one's chest is what those exposed to Marshal's reiatsu feel. It's a suffocating and anxiety inducing experience to say the least. The reiatsu itself pours off of him like fog from a block of dry ice, sweeping out from his position to cover the immediate area. When it's controlled it swirls about him like a cocoon, hardly leaving his body before its swept up by an invisible wind.
- Redeem himself. He isn't sure what this means yet, but it's something he's constantly working toward.
- Protect those who can't protect themselves
- Grow. As a person and as a fullbringer he's just now setting in to train and become better.
Power: The ability to make those under it's effects afraid. It may begin with small paranoia and escalate to full on hallucinations depending on the dose of liquid the target is hit with.
Rise to Power: Rise to Power should include when your character first got their power and how they learned to control/use it.
Call to Action: This is where you talk about the event(s) that made your character shift from an NPC to a player character. For whatever reason, they need to be pulled away from the daily grind and put into the spotlight. In this section, you’ll want to highlight that event(s) and justify why your character is they way they are today.