MidgardTillian 'Tilly' Morvone

"What can I say? Evil has it's place and i do so -love- that place."

a character in “The Vestiges of the Sky”, as played by RolePlayGateway

Factions, Families, Clans, and Empires

Description

[left]Tillian 'Tilly' Morvone.
Image

Theme Song: Wanderlust/Abney Park.

Role:
"Why a VILLAIN of course!"

Gender:
"What? Male I guess."

Nickname(s):
"Tilly....No I am not telling you how I got it."

Date of Birth:
"A time before time sounds about right."

Age:
"I stopped counting , it was starting to -depress- me."

Nationality:
"Oh well....Chaos I sapose."

Appearance:
Tilly is ;most of the time anyways; alot smaller then people are always expecting him to be. Standing at only five foot nine inchs and being frail in terms of build. He hides this as best he can under a thick solid layer of three dimensional shadow made to look like a swallowtail coat. His hair and teeth , BEYOND levels of bleach white to the point that they would be noticable in the darkest of areas , that crooked ear to ear grin and mussy long white hair giving the already odd looking creature a hint of nightmarish incarnation.

Tilly seems to believe in a certain level of 'taste' as far as the clothing he apears to wear goes. Always clean cut ; aside from when he morphs it; and always of suit or dress origin and tho he will never admit it he does have a soft spot for people that share his taste in luxury clothing.

But allass Tilly would not be as good a hider as he is were that all there was to him. His little...'hobby' of sorts is to dissapear in to crowds. Wether that is simply diving in to the place of someones shadow or changing his own shape and colors to fit in , he truly is a...'thing' he cannot let out of your eyesight less you find him behind you with a claw at your neck.

Preferred Clothing:
"Oooo , my own line of shadow suits is always a favorite. Even found a way to make it work on others , tho I get so -few- volunteers to wear a suit made by me. Shame , would make theirs hearts ever so wicked."

Height:
Five' nine"....most of the time.

Weight:
"Oh well that's just RUDE."

Hair Color:
"Lovely White!"

Eye Color:
"....Eyes?"

Personality:
What could be said about the monster Tilly? Plenty actually. Despite every vibe he gives off saying he is just some harmless forgotten horror , something that would rather spend it's days watching birds flit about and maby talking to the occasional lost hiker it is a very bad idea to underestimate him. Tilly you see lacks something most associate with even the most evil of creatures , that is he has no morality of any kind towards the ways of good. Not just a overpowering sence of evil on him but the complete absence of both sides of the coin makes his every move incredibly terrifying. Will he go to pick up a flower or ravage a entire town? Even during acts that would make normal men cry just at the sight of them Tilly seems more annoyed by the blood on his coat then concerned with the children the blood used to belong to.

That said there is a sort of...'off balance' to Tilly. He is in no way good true but not really inherintly 'evil' iether. He does not do evil deeds for evils sake , he has no rythm or reason to what he does , be it buying a soda he can't even drink or scaring hikers. Tilly is as Tilly does and what Tilly does best is chaos. No plans , no grand scheme , just a list of interests and dislikes that causes him to flutter about at his own pace. Tho it does not help his case that one of said 'interests' is viewing the god of chaos whole again.

Likes:
Bunnies!
Women!
Catapillars!
The smell of a freshly slaughtered family!
Blood!
Genocide!
Evil people!
Carrots.

Dislikes:
"Bee's. Can't stand those things."

Hobbies:
"I like long walks on the beach , knitting , moon gazing and unicorns. Why I remember this one time I was walknig along the beach at night and I found a unicorn...so I stabbed it with my knitting needles."

Phobia(s):
"The end. The end of everything. I fear what's left when even -I- have to leave the world."

Power:
Shape shifting. Be in turning one arm in to a giant blade , his coat in to chains and spikes or his entire body in to another person entirely.

Abilities:
"Well I don't -die- easy. Does that count?"
"Oh! I'm also a -very- accomplished suit maker."

Personal History:
Allow me to tell you a story of a man. A man who's name and face have been removed from human memory , lore and any form of history still existing. This man was a hunter and by far a terrible one at that. For you see he had this over whelming ability to fall in to his own traps or the traps of others.....and this was no different when he fell in to a pit. A pit unlike any other. There was no bottom , no walls , no ground of any kind. No voices could be heard but a meek whisper from below and any yell the man threw out was never echoed off any surface. For days , months , years , millenia this hunter fell through this black abyss the only comfort and horror he had to comptimplate in this time was simple 'what lies at the bottom of this trap? So powerfull a creature that I have heard it's whimper my entire life , ALL my lives , for these long years.'

Unfortunately for our unlucky hunter this creature was not one of mercy or some sealed away seed of good away from the rest of the world. No , when he finnaly -did- come face to face with this....entity it was no mere whimpering child , no scared thing of myth or legend. What this man saw was the very heart of Chaos itself and the poor sad whisper , that desperate plee for freedom? His own being. He had been trapped here so long that all that the hunter was had been stripped from him , forced inside this cold prison for no one knows how long. How does one tell time in a place where time is afraid to reach?

Then this creature , our hunters left over shell. This empty thing that had no place in the world for it's very form had no reason to stay in it's hole any longer. The trap had what it wanted , it had the hunter , his memorys , his life , his face and body and everything else. But still there stood his shell. The thing that could not exist and with one crooked smile and a wave it simply walked out of the once bottomless pit. Finding itself coming out under the bed of some poor child our empty shell was in no hurry and as such decided to stay , making friends of sorts with the little girl whos room he had escaped in to who effectionately named this soulless thing 'Tillian'. That is the story of the hunter and the pit and the thing that cannot exist.

That is the story of our dear Tillians first step on to earth and from there tell the long years of now? History. Simply history.

Other:
So yeah....empty shell that cannot exist , a pure agent of chaos. Why? Because he cannot exist so anything he interacts with goes off it's path.

Sample Post: (OPTIONAL!)
Well I would think the rest of the bio stands up pretty well.

So begins...

Tillian 'Tilly' Morvone's Story