Description
Varies based on which personality the Mad God is expressing.
Personality
The Mad God is, simply, mad! He is utterly unpredictable, and does whatever pops into his mind.
His insanity varies, based on a dice roll of a gradient of ten.
One - Obsessive compulsions and tics.
Two - Compulsions, tics, and coprolalia (random shouts).
Three - Compulsions, tics, and other neuroses.
Four - Compulsions and paranoia.
Five - Paranoid delusions and whispered hallucinations.
The above are lucid states, where the Mad God may overcome his corporeality at points by casting his powers from concept to reality. The amount of time this can be done is equal to the duration of his power, though any subsequent powers are also bound to his corporeality.
Six - Paranoid delusions and voices.
Seven - Paranoid delusions, voices, and incoherency at occasion.
Eight - Paranoid delusions, voices, and mostly incoherent.
Nine - Full-blown delusions, frank hallucinations, and incoherence.
Ten - Utterly mad.
Equipment
When he is in his material form, The Mad God is rather competent at defending himself, though his corporeal form can be destroyed like any other. Whatever form he takes is what physical strength he has, though he has certain magical abilities because of his deity nature. They are limited on the corporeal plane, though.
If his material form is destroyed, he will not appear for a month in a corporeal form.
Abilities
(Considering the bell curve of ability within the multiverse, dependent upon the gradient level for Gat's madness, dice rolls are modified by a -x (where 'x' is the level of madness). )
Stupefy: If a roll of 9-12, the opponent is dumbfounded for one turn.
Confound: If a roll of 10-12, the opponent is dumbfounded for two turns.
Bedlam: If a roll of 11 or 12, the opponent is dumbfounded for three turns.
Whispers: If a roll of 3-6, the opponent will hear distracting whispers for two turns.
Compulsion: If a roll of 10-12, the opponent will contract a compulsion of the Mad God's choosing for two turns. (20-24 if he wants to force an opponent to harm him or herself.)
Paranoia: If a roll of 9-12, the opponent will begin to suspect his allies of trickery for three turns.
Madness: The opponent, if a roll of 23-24, will experience full delusions and hallucinations for two turns.
History
The Mad God simply is, has been, and likely will always be.
So begins...
Gat, The Mad God
continued to look around the bar for a moment, and then he roared out into the empty spaces of the bar, a voice tinged with a loud delirium as he proudly proclaimed;
Citizens! Fear not! I shall petition the governor six pansies! They will never know I have come!
With what was, obviously, a very important proclamation -- to everyone else, a jumble of word salad -- the man gallivanted over to the counter and called over it to whoever was behind, serving drinks.
"Grandfather! I have brought Sarah! We would both like a bourbon, and please don't step on the cat this time!"
Gat, The Mad God peered over the counter, still searching for someone. He quickly became annoyed, and ran about the counter, rummaging through the alcohol. His form moved quickly, darting to and fro as he embarked upon his quest, muttering to himself as he glanced over to Rebellous.
"Oh, dear sister! Grandfather seems to have died! Do not worry though," he ducked down, picking up a bottle of whiskey. "I have found the bourbon, we shall drink fully."
Gat then paused, and then replied to the woman. "Vodka cannot taste like mushrooms."
Gat, The Mad God screwed his up nose. Obviously, the mad god was disgusted at her words, and shook his head as he dashed about the counter once more with the whiskey in hand. Halfway around it, he looked at the bottle.
"This is not bourbon. It is better bourbon!"
Gat then hopped back to his seat, in such a manner that, if Rebellous did not move, the man's corporeal form would bump into her shoulder rather heavily as the god placed the bottle on the counter.
"Silly sister," he said, chiding, "There is no cat anymore, grandfather splurged on a multicolored elephant. It was quite remarkable."
Gat, The Mad God looked at Rebellous, shock painted on his face as he kept his hand on the bottle. His eyes darted up and down the woman, the skeletal-like figure next to him. Slowly, the corporeal god's hand opened the whiskey, and he brought it up to his lips quickly, taking a deep swig, and placing it down rather firmly on the counter.
"Dear sister," he spoke, in a hushed tone. "Your inner clothes are gone, whence have they been stolen?" Gat's tone then changed immediately in response to her question, "The elephant never had a name, he never made a noise, but was flirtatious with the nurse. The nurse denied him, and the elephant hung himself."
The mad god then burst into tears, and took another deep swig of his whiskey.
Gat, The Mad God blinked a couple of times. The mad god then put the bottle of whiskey down, and pinched his skin. For extra measure, he took another large swig of the whiskey, and then bashed the bottle against the counter, so a single long shard pointed out from the broken bottle.
"Affix!" he called out, "Bayonets!"
The mad god then took the bottle, and drove the long, sharp shard through the side of his shoulder, piercing it easily and then looking at Rebellous. Surely she understood what he meant by now.
Gat, The Mad God turned, the bottle still sticking out of his shoulder as he stared down at The Assassin. His voice adopted the gruff command of a general, and he shouted at him over the bar.
"Get your ass up, private; there's a war on out there!"
He then looked over at Rebellous, and growled out of the corner of his mouth: "That's insubordination, Lieutenant! I oughta shoot you for that!"
Gat, The Mad God gazed for a moment at Rebellous. There was a flicker of understanding in the mad god's eyes as she spoke absolute gibberish. Rather than communicate, though, he pointed a finger at her. If the mad god was successful in his attempt (rolling a 3-6), she would, for a time, (2 posts) hear whispers within her mind. What they would be, however, was not up to the god himself.
Gat, The Mad God
stared at Wrath, comprehending, for a moment, that there had been a change. Then his eyes glazed over, and he let out a piercing, wailing cry from his throat. The mad god then looked over at his bleeding shoulder, and shouted out in panic:
Good god! Who put a bottle in my shoulder!?
Gat, The Mad God
pawed at the bottle lodged in his shoulder. The mad god's face was contorted in panic, as his hands uselessly groped at the broken glass. Then, after a moment, he grasped the neck of the bottle, and pulled it out with a loud yell.
Medic! Medic!
Gat, The Mad God
ducked the moment he heard the explosion triggered by The Assassin, leaning against the counter between two stools as he stared up at the sky. He covered his head with both his hands, the bleeding from his shoulder still continuing in a light trickle as he screamed.
We're being shelled! Oh god, I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!
Gat, The Mad God looked over at The Assassin before pulling himself back up onto the stool where he had sat. His eyes were wide as saucers until he looked over to the left, resuming a conversation with the entity 'Lucy', who only he could see, and who only existed in his mind.
Gat, The Mad God turned from his conversation with the hallucinatory companion. He stared at the shelves behind the bar, and then tapped on the counter. It did not produce a ringing sound. He tapped it again. Still no ringing sound. A third time, he tapped it, more insistently. No ringing sound. A fourth time, and his fist came down on it rather roughly. Still, no ringing.
"Where has the bell gone off to!?" he demanded.
Gat, The Mad God was, by now, ducking his head to and fro above and below the counter. There was a look of determination on his face before he turned to the stool on his left.
"Yes, give me a second, it must be there somewhere."
Gat, The Mad God frowned profoundly. The bell was nowhere to be found. There was a short sigh as he slumped onto the counter. His head turned and lay on his forearm, as he spoke to the space above the stool next to him.
"Yes, I'll get it looked at. No, it's not gangrenous. Why would it be a great ape?"
Gat, The Mad God nodded enthusiastically, moving a hand up to his shoulder. By now, the bleeding had stopped; a good chance had befallen the god's corporeal form, he had only nicked a few minor blood vessels.
"What if it were, huh? Would you still love me? ...no? Well, I should knock you down into a pot of jelly."
Gat, The Mad God tapped a foot to an invisible cadence, and then saluted to his right. The parade was coming through town today, and he might as well honor those who were passing by. He then turned to the left.
"Be polite! It's a ceremony!"
Gat, The Mad God needed some thorazine, but he isn't getting any of that any time soon.
Gat, The Mad God
Whooped
, because it was too silent, and he began feeling another presence in the bar, watching him and his moves. Only him and his moves. He was certain he was under suspicion, he held the secrets they needed.
Gat, The Mad God
considered dividing by zero, but that would have consequences he didn't want: absolutely none, beyond an error message. He had no calculator, anyway. The mad god, instead, grabbed two shot glasses and began to juggle them.
One...two...thre-
The mad god had forgotten he was no good at juggling, as the glasses fell onto the counter.
Gat, The Mad God
twisted his head to the side. He looked at the toppled shot glasses, and then yelled at them.
Clean up your act, you two! Stop thinking indecent thoughts about each other! For the good lord's sake, have decency!