Head of Marchfield Laboratories, and the leading mind of his generation. (NPC) [DECEASED]
The people who visit Prometheus in his lab have a tendency to leave with expressions of bewilderment and possibly frustration, brought on by his tendency to speak in riddles or to use words that a student of etymology would tell you probably could exist, but don’t. At any given time, his meaning has to be stabbed at, though the astute can get pretty close if they really think about it.
It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely crazy or not, as there seem to be just as many hints in one direction as in the other. It is widely established that he’s at least eccentric, but his contributions to the field are unmatched, and he’s managed to avoid the complete mania that plagues some of his compatriots. Though scientists can have an influence on the flow of politics if they so choose, Prometheus hates it, and does his best to avoid Parliament and everyone in it. His lab assistant happens to be the Queen’s older brother, but the Director of Marchfield pays no heed to this at all.
On occasion, Prometheus has intense periods of self-loathing and doubt that anything he has accomplished has been for the better. A good man at heart, he is unsure what the ultimate repercussions of his discoveries may be, and fears that he has played a part in condemning magi. Interspersed with these are periods of intense creative energy, and the scientist returns to work.
Prometheus is always lugging about some component or reference tome for his latest experiment, as well as several wands, varied in design but useful in the lab. Having designed many of them himself, nobody really minds him owning them.
He keeps all his notes in a series of journals, which he is very reluctant to relinquish and doesn’t ever show anyone.
Prometheus was born a twin. As it turned out, his brother had magic, and at that time, such things meant a lifetime spent in the Facility, forever kept from the outside world. Since most magi don’t come into their power until the age of eleven or so, the boys grew up together, never knowing that they would be ripped apart when his brother’s proclivities were stumbled upon.
Losing his twin was the most painful thing Prometheus had ever experienced, and it affected his family profoundly. By the time the magi were all released from the Facility, his parents had both died and Prometheus had enrolled in the University. Though he was told his brother had been released, the man never sought to contact him, and all of Prometheus’s attempts to find him turned up nothing.
It was then that the budding young scientist decided to devote himself to the study of magic. If people only understood how it worked, he reasoned, they would not be so hateful towards or afraid of it. It was with him, then, that the field of Manatechnology began. Prometheus came up with the “compass” formulation by which magic is most commonly understood today, and it was also he who first synthesized Mana, quite by accident.
But no matter how many wands he created, or how widely he circulated his knowledge, it seemed that nothing truly changed, and Prometheus became prone to fits of manic hysteria and self-deprecation. The man who was possibly the world’s greatest scientific mind had still failed to locate the one person with whom he truly wished to share his understanding. Little by little, this fact wore on his resolve, and turned him into a shell of his former brilliance.
Even so, he was able to hide it well enough, and was renowned enough, that he was appointed Head of Marchfield Laboratories, a position which, though administrative, keeps him busy enough that sometimes he can forget things. With it, he has taken up experimenting once more, though now he pursues knowledge for its own sake alone, and harbors no hope for what it might bring either himself or the world.