RPGEzrael Flavaar
A convuluted mess that can only get worse!
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Patcharoo
Last seen at: Terra
Groups
Description
Ezrael is a child seven years of age, human in appearance with short blond hair. He currently has dark eyes but no other real definition. Their right arm is wrapped up in bandages.
Ezrael's much darker counterpart is an ageless evil entity in the form of a full grown man, of a cold disposition with terribly dark eyes. His hair is black and has grown to some length. He generally has demonic horns curled about his head and extended black feathered wings. He holds himself with grace and smoothness.
Personality
Young Ezrael is a quiet child, or as quiet as children can be. They can usually be found running around playfully and making plenty of noise, but when there's trouble or when they're hurt they won't be loud about it.
His evil counterpart has developed a malevolent attitude, isolating himself from humanity while using his skills to delve into technology furiously. Those few who he does touch he does so with calous disregard for their feelings and shows little remorse or guilt over any bad acts he commits.
Equipment
Young Ezrael currently carries no equipment.
Evil Ez.
Presently Ezrael is a learned individual, capable of figuring out how magic works at a rapid rate, if not being able to come up with solutions for himself. While the finer fields of magic elude im he still has a sturdy grasp on the arcane and powerful other magics. He is quite skilled in his application and has many promising ideas. His right arm appears, at this point, to somehow influence his magic.
History
A child of the age of five. Son of Drakus and Cinder Flavaar.
The remnants of what evil lay deeply seated in the back of his parents mind slowly joined together to form an altogether eviller mind. This entity can occasionally take control of baby Ezrael and often shapeshifts into a full grown adult in appearance.
Ezrael Flavaar's Story
A yearning for earthen lands screamed from the body of the dark man as he entered through the door, brushing it aside with mere causality. His grace, undeniable, his features, flawless. The man himself would be the first to claim himself perfection amongst the mortal planes of which he sought to wander. Darkened optics swept through the bar, a tinge of darkness fluttering through sensitive hearts as his hope-threshing gaze passed. He was finally present in the merciless lands of the forgotten. Terra.
The individuals head swept back to see the mechanised person thrusting themself into the structure, blade drawn as a violent threat to another. Amusement flickered to his features as calm footsteps took him past the conflict to his own corner of comfort and peace to merely observe the unfolding events.
Change. It was what was to be preached. And the man who stood behind the change? A dark man with equally dark eyes. His message was simple, a long awaited justice for those who deserved it.
Light footfalls could be heard as he stepped into the structure of Gambit's, a somewhat sorry alehouse which found itself too oft frequented by violence and unsavoury individuals. Today he would begin his legacy, a mark on the world that would live on forever. He was handsome, yes, some would even say flawless, but this feature proved only skin deep as ever a feature was.
Calm smile twisting his lips upward he grinned, legacy laid out before him in his mind. Change was coming.
Light footfalls could be heard as he stepped into the structure of Gambit's, a somewhat sorry alehouse which found itself too oft frequented by violence and unsavoury individuals. Today he would begin his legacy, a mark on the world that would live on forever. He was handsome, yes, some would even say flawless, but this feature proved only skin deep as ever a feature was.
Calm smile twisting his lips upward he grinned, legacy laid out before him in his mind. Change was coming.
The man strode across the room to the feline figure laid upon a table. "Hello there, kitty cat," he spoke in a soothing voice, reaching out a slender hand to give her a pet, "What have you been doing today?" Maybe he was a little mad, speaking to a cat, but so long as there was no other what harm could it do?
"Yes," he says casually, "I imagine your life is a simplistic joy other then the other cats you meet and the people who do not like cats. Quite the metaphor for humankind, really. Persecuted by others of the same and by those who hate cats." He chuckled at his own joke.
The man tilts his head ever so slightly to the side and exhales. "Of course, I could kill for some real company. A humble barcat may have the thrilling life of mouse hunting, but they lack the vocal capacities to share it."
The mans hand momentarily retreats, but a smile creeps to his features once more. "Then perhaps you should have specified so earlier?" he responds somewhat politely, but there was no hiding the conceit in his voice.
The man chuckles once more. "I see. I suppose its not the business of a man to invade the business of a cat, is it?"
"I am entirely in agreement," he responds with a nod. "So we are at an impasse. Neither of us wish to become a problem to each others business, and now we stand in uncertainty of how to continue."
The man tilts his head. "Well, that would lead to entire series of different eventualities, wouldn't it? But as it is, you are a cat and I am not."
"Now whyever would you do that? Forgive me for imposing on your cat, yet not a cat business, but does it not seem strange to make yourself a conspicuous individual? One would almost assume you were attempting to draw attention to yourself."
A drifting individual loomed at the doorway for a mere moment before pressing forth into the structure of Gambit's, body seeming a touch unsteady, as if they were not used to standing. "Good day," he announces in a subtle voice which carried through the bar.
He trudged forth on unsteady legs with echoing footsteps, body swaying awkwardly. His eyes flicked sharply to the side, as if cautiously examining the room for some unseen presence before finally managing his way to the counter at which point he slumped into a chair, hunched forward.
His eyes flicked across to Ari for a moment, uncertainty wavering in his eyes, before finally settling on a small and uncomfortable smile. "Hello."
He trudged forth on unsteady legs with echoing footsteps, body swaying awkwardly. His eyes flicked sharply to the side, as if cautiously examining the room for some unseen presence before finally managing his way to the counter at which point he slumped into a chair, hunched forward.
His eyes flicked across to Ari for a moment, uncertainty wavering in his eyes, before finally settling on a small and uncomfortable smile. "Hello."
The mans eyes lazily lifted up from the bar to stare, as though he were tired or already drunk. "Pardon?" he asks, then after a moment realises what she said. "Nothing," he sharply adds, then falls quiet for several moments, eyes dropping to the counter once more as if in thought. "Do you believe... we have a purpose?" he asks with a brief gesture of his hand.
For a brief moment a slither of blackness, like a scale of oil, was visible on his arm, though his hand dropped quickly to conceal it. "On this place...?"
For a brief moment a slither of blackness, like a scale of oil, was visible on his arm, though his hand dropped quickly to conceal it. "On this place...?"
The man was at a loss for words of how to respond. "The... reason is... hard." It was difficult to explain, but his uncertainty wasn't helping. "Uhm, what if your existance made the word shriek in pain? Hypothetically. I think you'd here it if it was me." It may have sounded like a joke, but his mood seemed sober, contradictory to his movements.
"So I would make my own path if it was there to make?"
"So I would make my own path if it was there to make?"
"No... clarity seems to be... escaping me," he responded. "Speaking of which," he rose, "I should be making my way once more into the streets whence I came." He stumbled towards the door as awkwardly as he entered, tugging on his cloak to pull it around his body. "Good night." He left without turning back.
The door brushed open as the man entered through the front door, lips curling up into a devious smile. The smile was nothing to be overly impressed or intimidated by, but the dark eyes, those dark dark eyes he had, they sent shivers down the spines of mortals. Smile now wide enough to show teeth he pushes forth, knocking back the door with one palm as he makes bold strides through the establishment.
His gaze sweeps eagerly from left to right, an entire society to explore, experiment and do as he will with. He could barely contain his excitement. He brushed back his hair over his near perfect features, confidence rippling from his effiminate form. It was enough to make a fangirl fawn.
But as his hand rose on the underside of his arm a small black scale, like oil, could be seen, a dark mark of something that was wrong. His arm dropped before a good look could be garnered and in his haste he didn't seem to notice it either.
His gaze sweeps eagerly from left to right, an entire society to explore, experiment and do as he will with. He could barely contain his excitement. He brushed back his hair over his near perfect features, confidence rippling from his effiminate form. It was enough to make a fangirl fawn.
But as his hand rose on the underside of his arm a small black scale, like oil, could be seen, a dark mark of something that was wrong. His arm dropped before a good look could be garnered and in his haste he didn't seem to notice it either.
Well, that was curious. A threat seemed to stand out amongst the apparent regulars of Gambit's, a man with a gun. Focus seemed to be on that individual with no less then three others around them having reacted in various amusing fashions. His grin only widened to be unpleasant now, his previously gorgeous features twisted and unpleasant. "Swords, not words," he comments subtly to himself, quoting the old phrase about fighting rather then diplomacy.
The man had barely made it two steps past the front door when another had decided to enter behind him. He turns, casting his dark gaze towards Kira Yamamoto's self, smile slowly fading as he sized up the individual. Surely not as tall as he, he wasn't sure what to make of the timid individual. "Hm," he manages, but merely continues staring for the moment.
The man stared, listening in silence to the neko. Oh, this was almost too precious. An experiment who talked to their doll? This individual was already suitably broken enough to pose any threat to his enormous ego. He offers out a hand.
"Hello," he says softly, smile creeping onto his features, "Do you want to be friends?"
"Hello," he says softly, smile creeping onto his features, "Do you want to be friends?"
Ezrael couldn't help but grin. He reaches out a hand to pet Kira's head, should she not move. "No, actually. Why would I hurt you? You're not remotely threatening. No, I think it would be better to have you on my side. By the same logic, why lie to you? Who would you tell?"
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