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Mahatma

"Life is the natural state of all things. Which means, I'm awesome! Yay me!"

0 · 220 views · located in Earth

a character in “A war of the Mystics”, as played by soulmiester

Description

Mahatma

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GENERAL INFO
Full name: - Mahatma, or "The Great Soul"
Title: - The Druid
Gender: - Male
Species: โ€“ The first human
Birth Date: - Oh... Hmmm. *Shrug*
Age: - 3,153,607,402,571 seconds to be exact
Champion of: - Life

APPEARANCE
Height: - 5' 9"
Weight: - Well that's rude.
Build: - Thin
Eye Color: - Amber
Hair Color: - Gold
Handedness: - Yes
Skin Shade: - Lightly tanned
Piercings: - Left ear has lots of rings.
Clothes: - Wears a ragged white scarf with gold rings on the edge, a dark green tunic, and a pair of brown trousers tucked into pointed leather shoes. Always wears a simple black mask that clings to the lower half of his face.

MENTALITY
Sexuality/Preference: - EWWWW! (Straight)
Relationship/Marital status: - Single
Family/relatives: - Unfortunately dead. It would have been wrong of me to have kept them here. But even death is just another kind of birth, a passing from one form of existence to the next.
Sanity: - Discarded
Friends: - All living things!
Mental Skills: - OH! I can juggle!
Likes: - Things that grow, children, plants, animals, people, and other... interesting forms of life.
Dislikes: - Death, decay, disease, suffering, pain
Hobbies: - Gardening and animal husbandry
Personality: โ€“ Eccentric, boisterous, and quite frankly, full of life. Rarely sits still when he could be doing something, and loves sticking his nose in other people's business. He's also surprisingly innocent and childish for someone over 100,000 years old.

WEAPON OF MY GOD
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A simple staff carved from a still living oak tree. Even after making the staff, the wood still lives.

POWERS OF MY GOD
I control the very ebb and flow of life, the energy that resides in all things that draw breath, and can give life to the things that do not. Be it of stone, steel, or even water, I can give it life. I can even accelerate life, turning saplings into mighty pines, or pups into wolves. I bring life where there is none, turning dirt into fertile soil, and dead weeds into a rich harvest. When the world is dark with despair and hunger, I bring the people hope, and that's more than enough for me.

HISTORY
Personal History/Background: - Mahatma was the first human being to come into being almost 100,000 years ago. The great god of Life spoke to him, named him Mahatma, "The Great Soul", and made him his champion so that his gift might stretch to every corner of the Earth. Oh did it spread. Now, every corner of the Earth is rich with life. Plants, wild animals, and billions of people all share the planet in relative peace. Along with other, stranger, beings.

So begins...

Mahatma's Story

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahatma Character Portrait: Ereshkigal Character Portrait: Chucky Timm Character Portrait: Poison Character Portrait: Dorian Feller Character Portrait: Aeris
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Mahatma watched his feet sinking in the soft desert sand, a small lizard staring up at him from its perch upon his foot. The desert was such a strange and wonderful place, so desolate and barren, but still so full of life. Small animals and plants still managed to survive in this desolate wasteland. He grinned and picked the lizard off of his shoe, staring at it in the palm of his hand. Life was an amazing thing. He placed the little lizard on the gleaming sand and watched as it skittered away in the moonlight. Mahatma stared up into the sky, and there he saw a star. A red star. Suddenly the smile faded from his features and he drew forth his staff.

"I guess it's just that time again." He stamped the but of his staff into the sand three times, the first turned the sand to soil, the second made that soil fertile, and the last sprouted a mighty tree. But the tree grew weird, arcing down to the ground halfway through its growth and forming a door. But its roots found nothing beyond the fertile soil, just empty sand. So the tree died, and became a dead door. Death's door, on which Mahatma knocked thrice, each knock resounding through the dessert with the sound of lead slabs dropped on a granite floor.

"Miss Ereshkigal! It's time to come out now! We have some work to do!"

The setting changes from earth to Mortal plane

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Character Portrait: Mahatma Character Portrait: Ereshkigal
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[Mispost]

The setting changes from mortal-plane to Earth

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Character Portrait: Mahatma Character Portrait: Ereshkigal
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(Repost for MerpytheScarecrow)

Reshlie pried open the door, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "How many times must I insist you call me Reshlie?" She mumbled, "Ereshkigal sounds so formal, Mahatma." She smiled at him, running a hand through her hair.

She ran her hands across the surface of the door, feeling the rough bark against her palm. It was calming, and also frightening. From beside the door, propped neatly against an unseen wall, Reshlie grabbed her scythe. It also had a frightening texture, but one she appreciated. As she looked across the desert, she could just barely make out the figure of a rattlesnake coiling itself around a small lizard. She watched the lizard struggle, then grow limp, and felt the etching of a new design form underneath her thumb. It felt like a scale, rough and bumpy. Reshlie smiled again and looked back at Mahatma.

"What's on the agenda?"

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Character Portrait: Mahatma Character Portrait: Ereshkigal
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He grinned and raised his hands defensively. "All right, Reshile, just being polite." As soon as she was through the strange door, Mahatma placed his hand upon the bark of the tree, and watched as the tree shrank, split, dried up, spread out, and became your average desert shrub. He couldn't just leave doors to the next world laying about now could he? Dangerous things, they tended to leak into this world if left unchecked.

He winced as he turned to look over his shoulder, and watched as the lizard slowly died. He could feel it, like a candle wick slowly burning itself up, growing smaller and colder until the light vanished. He had to remind himself that the death of the lizard meant the survival of the snake, and of the snake's children. Life begets death, and death begets life. One could use such a statement to sum up the odd friendship between Eres- Reshile and himself.

"I'm afraid we'll be quite busy for a while." With that, Mahatma pointed to the red star with the end of his staff. "A new Brahkman is to be chosen." He frowned and tilted his head somewhat. "Though... It feels a little different this time."

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Character Portrait: Mahatma Character Portrait: Ereshkigal
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Reshlie followed Mahatma's pointed finger and stared up at the sky, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the red star. Her look took on a serious tone and she released a deep sigh, swinging the scythe over her head and slipping into the strap so that it rested gently across her back.

"Yes, this does feel different." She ran a hand through her short, white hair. Her feet sunk further into the soft, warm sand as she moved and she briefly closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed, and in her mind, the world around her seemed to slow as well, though she was fully aware that it did not. She could feel souls tugging on her gently, as an inquisitive child would do to an adult, seeking answers to questions they shouldn't ask. She opened her eyes, and gave Mahatma a smile. "Shall we get started then?"

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