Post by obscurumaeterna on May 11, 2010 13:30:16 GMT -5
Xanthus Morsa
Unseen in sickening mists of night, some evil's lurking in the gloom
Voracious hunting appetite and piercing demon eyes
A mandrake sets upon its prey, slashing mangled claw
Soul stealer, strangling terror, in crimson cloak it kills
Full Name: Xanthus Morsa
Nicknames: Xan, Xanthus the Cloaked Despair
Physical Age: 824, early 30s in human form
Date of Birth: November 7th 1185
Hometown: Hell
Current Residence: New Orleans
Occupation: Civilian weapons dealer, Demon Council member (if membership is granted)
Relationship Status: Single
Character Type: Demon
Affiliations: Good
Gender: Male
Hair: Blond
Eyes: Cool blue, glowing crimson when he is angered
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 160lbs
Body Type: Lean and athletic, but not too muscular
Best Feature: The confident gleam in his eyes
Worst Feature: That creepy smile…
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Personal Style: Sharp and formal; suits and the like
Face Claim: Callum Rennie
Abilities:
Demons tend to grow more powerful as they age, and Xanthus is a prime example of this wonderful fact. He is possessed of hugely enhanced physical capabilities, can mentally communicate with anyone he’s previously met over any distance, knows a good deal of spellcraft and is very proficient in pyrokinesis.
However, this is not what makes him so feared and dangerous; rather, it is when he assumes his demon form that he truly brings his power to bear. He takes the form of a floating, ghost-like creature, his eyes glowing a menacing red and his body shrouded in a cloak and fedora seemingly made of an opaque gas. This gas allows him to move through solid, non-organic materials as if intangible when he concentrates on doing so. The cloak itself is not actually part of his body; only his head and hands are vulnerable to injury. His fingers end in wicked claws capable of slicing through all but the very hardest of materials, and he can extend them at will to up to fifty metres in length. In his human form, he can transform his fingers to sport these cruel blades, but they can only reach twenty metres in length.
Personality:
Xanthus is two sides of his very own coin; calm, friendly and an all-round nice person most of the time, yet ruthless and calculating when he needs to be. He much prefers being able to get on with people with no fuss, and is a fiercely loyal friend to those who gain his trust, but isn’t afraid to assert himself when necessary.
Under normal circumstances, he is easy to get along with; an amicable, approachable person with a good deal of patience. A conversationalist with a good sense of humour, he bears a kind streak that belies his fearsome true power. When it comes to using that power to resolve a problem, he prefers to handle the issue with as little fuss as possible, often simply letting his reputation speak for him. A lot of the time, when some supernatural moron starts making trouble for him, all it takes to deal with the problem is to let the interloper know that it’s Xanthus the Cloaked Despair, the centuries-old demon wraith, with whom they’re trying to pick a fight.
Likes:
- Rock music
- A decent fight
- Playing with guns
- Good whisky
Dislikes:
- Foundless arrogance
- Ignorant, closed-minded people
- Cocky young demons disrespecting him
- Rap music
Strengths:
- Very powerful due to his age, even in his human form
- Knows how to handle a variety of firearms
- Cool-headed in most situations
- Hard to catch off-guard or surprise
Weaknesses:
- Bears a particular vulnerability to silver
- Cannot remain intangible for long periods of time, and cannot phase through fast attacks aimed at his head or hands
- Can become reckless and short-sighted when friends are in danger
- His head and hands are rather fragile in his demon form, so he relies on his speed for defence
Mother: Elysia
Father: Phantasmos
Siblings: None
Others: None
Bio:
To the rest of Hell’s denizens, Xanthus Morsa had no parents. Only he is aware of the existence of his mother and father, who raised him in seclusion in one of the harshest regions of Hell. The family kept to itself as Elysia and Phantasmos brought up their child, teaching him to fend for himself in all ways and helping his burgeoning powers to grow and develop. The rumours began two hundred years after his birth, when word got out that an infamously hot-tempered rock golem, famous for his great strength and almost impenetrable skin, had been sliced in half by some kind of hat-wearing ghost with enormous claws and the ability to move through solid matter as if it wasn‘t there.
Elysia and Phantasmos were never discovered, even when Xanthus had been active for centuries, and so it was never even suspected that this cloaked spectre was born of the mating of two demons. As far as anyone could tell, this powerful being had not been created by anyone or anything; he just existed. This basis for the rumours and stories suited the family well; Xanthus’ parents, extremely proud of the frightening force their child had become, were happy to allow him to leave and forge his own destiny through Hell. Yet Hell was not where the ghost would remain for long; he spent the better part of the next two hundred years observing the curious young creatures known as humans, and perpetuating the rumours by slaying any and every foolish demon who came looking for a fight. Through his actions came into common usage a fitting nickname - Xanthus the Cloaked Despair.
Word spread fast of the phantasm and his great power, and the more wary of demons learned to give the ghost a wide berth. This suited Xanthus perfectly; it meant that he could spend more time learning the humans’ ways, in preparation for entering their world. After making himself ready, he entered the human realm and created for himself a suitable body to hide his monstrous true form. Finding a home in the coastal city of New Orleans and supporting himself by starting up a civilian firearms store, he began gathering contacts. Of particular interest to him was the Council of the Otherworld, a governing body of supernatural beings that represented the interests of all the many inhuman races that now inhabited this world. Interested in asserting himself by claiming a seat on the Council, Xanthus began getting ready to come before the powerful gathering of creatures that led it and offer his services.
RP Sample:
The only response Xanthus chose to give to the Bount's obvious taunt was a frustrated scowl. This dizziness would be a major hassle all through this fight, but it wasn't enough to properly throw his aim except at long ranges. His eyes narrowed as the doll - Nashorn, the Bount had called it - began growing in size, pressing against the walls of the buildings either side of it and crushing them inwards. If it kept going, it'd simply push the structures over.
Xanthus couldn't help but release a mocking chuckle.
"I can see you've never faced a Valkyrie before," he laughed. "Where the Shinigami have their Kido, we Valkyrie strike from afar with our Spiritual Cannons." He rose to his feet, his rifle swaying vertically as he straightened up, and kept his aim upon the Bount. "I am Xanthus Morsa, 5th Seat of the Valhalla 3's Second Division. And the last thing you want to do when fighting me is make yourself a bigger target. Say hello - and goodbye - to Stormlance."
He tilted his head to put his eye to the sight of his rifle, zeroing in on the Bount. The only warning his target would receive that he was about to get shot was the bright blue light glowing from Stormlance's muzzle before the Valkyrie pulled the trigger. A harsh crack of thunder rent the silence as an intense beam of lightning lanced out from the barrel of the Spiritual Cannon. The Bount was its target, and it would strike almost instantaneously. This was the true lethality of Stormlance; not its fierce destructive power, but the sheer speed of the lightning bolts it fired. It was nigh-impossible to evade or defend against the wrath of this rifle unless one saw the shot coming...
