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Ikiros

I am not from this land. I come from what the modern world refers to as Atlantis. They banished me for one reason; I was born different.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ikiros

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A long forgotten empire of the first civilization that has risen from it's watery grave and inspires to be the utopia that so many have been waiting for.
Under the guise of the old Master, Nealaphh leads these enterprising souls on the path to true power in the hopes of preventing the collapse the Multiverse...

Description

ImageIkiros stands five feet, ten inches tall and weighs in at 176 pounds. Most of his weight is muscle. He is not buff-looking, but rather, he appears fit and healthy. He wears a high-necked white t-shirt and a pair of loose black cargo pants. Around his torso are bands of black leather and cloth, along with chains. He has fingerless gloves on his hands and on his feet are a pair of simple black tennis shoes. His eyes are brilliant silver after he discovered that he had a daughter. Although he is seeing the world in the human spectrum of visible light, his people are able to also view the world through both the ultraviolet and infrared spectra. He has a narrower face, similar to that of what humans refer to as elves, and slightly tapered ears. On his left shoulder blade there is a tattoo of a sword wrapped in the vines of a rosebush in a deep teal ink. Around his neck hangs a pale green crystal that is 4 inches long and translucent. He can hear extraordinarily well, see and read clearly at a distance of over 100 yards, and sense things behind him. The cost of having sight, hearing, and his sixth sense augmented is that most food tastes the same to him, he cannot tell the difference between several smells, and he has almost lost his sense of touch. His hair is white and swept back from his head due to an unfortunate accident during his first elemental test at 12 years old. Although he appears to be in his mid-twenties, He is actually 1647 years young.

Due to his recent time spent in his native homeland, and the events that happened therein, Ikiros has become an Atlantean Elder. This status, which would have made him immortal had he not already been so, gives him incredibly power while he resides int he city, as well as a limited amount of ability in the world as a whole. Although He is only the Elder over Water and Earth, he can manipulate both elements at will now, alongside his telekinetic abilities.






_

Personality

Ikiros tends to not be very shy around strangers but he tends to be suspicious of them until he can figure out their motives. Like most of his people, He tends to be fairly logical in most situations. He doesn't normally takes jokes well but there are times where he can bring himself to a humorous mood. To any psychologist, he would be considered depressed and brooding, to most people, just quiet. He likes to keep to himself and doesn't fight unless provoked or unless there is, in his mind, someone being unjustly attacked. Should he become friends with someone, and they tell him a secret, he will hold it with him until the person who it belongs to lets him tell others.

Equipment

He is a telekinetic, a being who can move ad affect objects with nothing more than their mind. His power allows him to lift no more than half a ton at a time and is only able to work within a 50-foot radius of his body. He has two special abilities that stem from his Telekinetic powers, one being the ability to control gravity enough to let him float about three feet off the ground, the other being the ability to disassemble molecular bonds in items as small or smaller than a short sword. The first ability he can keep up for hours at a time, but if he were to do it with multiple people, the time he can sustain the effect diminishes by half with each person added. His Molecular Disruption capabilities, if used to completely destroy an object that is the limit of the ability, exhaust him completely, making him collapse where he is, unconscious. Recently, he has learned to calm himself enough to be able to speak telepathically, from his mind to another person's mind. Recently, he fought for his life against a being he knows nothing about. Just before the being would have destroyed him, his conscious mind became practically comatose and his subconscious mind took over, allowing for complete access to his entire body's energy reserves to fuel higher reactions and more powerful telekinesis. Each time this happens, He becomes knocked out for a few days, during which time he must rebuild his mental structure. Every time he drops to this state and is rushed to rebuild his mind, he gets closer and closer to insanity. If allowed to take his time at rebuilding, he will be safe from losing his mind, but it is unlikely that this will always be the case.

ATLAIA ELDER:

Since becoming an elder of Atlantis, Ikiros now has the capability to control and manipulate earth and water at will, just as he can manipulate telekinetic force. While inside Atlantis itself, his abilities are augmented, allowing him to move vast amounts of material with ease.

History

Image Ikiros was born in the year 363 in what is known today as Atlantis. During the years around his birth, almost every single Atlantean child was born with the ability to use magic from one of the four elements of Earth, Fire, Wind, and Water. When he was born, his irises were gray, not one of the four color associated with an element. When he was tested to use his magic at the age of 12, he was unable to control the elements, but could, rather, control various kinds of force and energy. His type of magic worried the elders, but they let him remain in the city for another 12 years, hoping he would find the use of an element. When, at 24 years old, he could not control a single element, he was banished to never return under penalty of eternal torment by the four masters of the elements in Atlantis. After leaving with the weapons bestowed on him by his father Mitos, Ikiros traveled the world, trying to understand the civilizations of the world. He spent more than century in China and Japan, honing his skills at eastern martial arts, including kung fu, kendo, judo, and karate to name a few. At the turn into the first millennium, he was living in Italy, learning architecture. When the Black Plague struck, he remained unaffected due to the natural viricide that kept him from catching any disease. As the centuries passed, Ikiros traveled to the new world and, when the Little Ice Age hi New England, he returned to the area where Atlantis had been, seeing that their pride had destroyed his people. He returned to America and headed west, settling in California. After five decades, he moved to Washington state and built himself a house in the ancient Atlantean way between a river and a forest, so that he would constantly remind himself of what had been lost because of his people.

He recently found out that he has a daughter and he plans to raise her as she would have been raised by his family back in Atlantis, without the more dangerous aspects, perhaps.

So much has happened to Ikiros in the past year. He found his daughter, he made peace with his brother. He even went so far as to begin a relationship, and although he hasn't seen the woman in question recently, he still feels greatly for her.

And then he went on a quest to his homeland, his daughter and brother in tow. He was subjected to a host of memories that threatened to bring him to his knees as his thought about who he could have been, but in the end he prevailed, alongside Zotack of the Temple Empire. They, together, made the sunken city of Atlantis safe once more and are rebuilding it, that it might become a center of knowledge and a paradise, as it once was.

After a stint away form the confusion and bustle of Wing City, having been preoccupied with the return of his homeland under his guidance, Ikiros found himself taking a short, self-imposed vacation of sorts. More as a trip to remember what he once was, the planned relaxation took a turn for the worst when he was greeted not only by his once-Sister, Nadalla, but also by the being Nealaphh, which had turned him into an Enigma. After conversing with the two of them about the plans for the future, Ikiros, having heard enough about the intended destruction and waste-laying planned, brought about a stroke of rebellion against the cosmic forces. Utilizing the very power given him by the Enigma Status, Ikiros pulled from his body the tattoos and markings that let him be an Enigma, save for those that left his mind expanded. Those marking that remained were purged by his natural strength, forcing out all connection to the Enigmas, while leaving his power intact. As things now stand, Ikiros suspects he is considered dangerous and unwanted by those under the influence of Nealaphh, but he is no longer counted among those bearing the Enigma Status, and he no longer has access to the abilities they have, save for the ability to think like them, and any memory of what it was like to be one.

So begins...

Ikiros's Story

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At the instant of transport, only one of the three Atlanteans available appeared. Afen stood and looked around at the all-too familiar style of the corridors, afraid that they had come to a trap that would seal them away forever. And yet, despite the fear she felt, a certain calmness and steadiness filled her mind. Only after looking at the feelings did she realize that, though it was incredibly tenuous, her father's mental link to her remained intact. It was near to breaking however, and suddenly snapped, the mental sound reporting through the air around her.

However, the sound was not entirely in her head. A space beside her, no wider than a human hair but deeper and taller than a man, ripped through spacetime, opening a slim portal for mere moments. It remained thus long enough for two grown men to pass through, one with stark white hair similar to Afen's, the other bearing raven locks that hung straight below his shoulders.

"My apologies, Zotack. I had not expected you to teleport us, and thus only the psychic barrier I protect myself was taken with my daughter." He smiled in a semi-reassuring way, though he said nothing about how he'd managed to arrive immediately next to them all.

As the man opened the door and stepped out, the three Atlanteans, for the raven-haired man was the brother of Ikiros, followed suit, each thinking a dozen different things as they passed into the hallway as the people shunted themselves to the wall.

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The three Atlaia walked swiftly behind Zotack, Afen hanging back a bit more than usual due to the memories this place brought back. Avaraen, Ikiros' brother, kept his gaze up and inquisitive, though he was confused as Zotack spoke. Someone had found Atlai once more? It wasn't the strangest thing he'd known, but he certainly hadn't been expecting it. Ikiros, however, was more than ready to continue the conversation, as best he understood it.

"So you've found how well it's sealed then. What would like any of us to do? One of us is banished, another was born outside, and the third promised to have me dead before his return, so i can't see where we'll be able to help." The words were true, though he suspected that Zotack knew such things would not matter. The telekinetic simply wanted to find out just how much the Temple Agent knew before proceeding to open his homeland. Then an odd thought struck him.

What if the city were sealed, completely protected, but was not flooded. None of the three Atlaia in the room had been there at the time of the calamity, so who knew how much of the city survived intact while sunken beneath the surface. He was about to speak up on this fact, simply to alert the man to any other dangers, when he heard the word vortex. Deciding it might be better to hold his tongue, Iki joined his brother and daughter to watch what might show on screen.

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Ikiros and Avaraen looked to one another, sharing a knowing smile. Although the white-haired man opened his mouth to speak, Avaraen silenced him with another look and spoke up instead. His voice was smooth and melodious, though substantially different from his brother's. It was mildly more feminine, though his stature showed he was just as potent with a weapon as he was with his tongue.

"You seem to underestimate the forces at play here. Not only is it similar to the Bermuda Triangle, it is linked to it most profoundly. As well as the Dragon's Triangle in the East. They all originated because of our city's collapse." He smiled and then brushed the hair from his face with slight whorls of wind.

"My brother is right, Zotack. Not to mention that, as a city filled with elemental mages, we were uniquiely tapped into the world around us. It is likely that this vortex and the storm that rises with it are the protection given to our doors in ages past. I can't say they were ever properly used, but there were always rumors of a ship-sinking force that protected us." He grinned and looked quite serenely at the paused screen.

"I think that humans eventually named it The Leviathan."

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Afen watched the smiled on her father's and uncle's faces growing slightly at the sight of the coral doorway. She'd been confused so far by what had happened to the little ship, though when she saw Perdix fighting nature itself, she couldn't help but feel a pang for the boy. He may not have been the smartest lad, but he'd certainly had plenty of willpower. It was the only reason he'd likely been able to take on that kind of raw, natural force.

Ikiros took his eyes from the screen and stepped forward, watching Zotack. "What is it you need from us then? You've brought the doors to the surface but you can't get through, so you've brought us, or more specifically, me along to figure out, correct?" He looked back at his daughter, the smile fading slightly as he noticed her pained expression.

"Or would you need my brother as well? I brought him here mainly because I don't think the Aschen need him readily available for questioning, but I figure he might have better luck getting back in. He doesn't have a death penalty hanging over his head upon his return, whether the city still live, or not."

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Ikiros stood there beside Zotack, watching and waiting for inevitable turn of the camera. Although he had personally never witnessed the city's defenses in actions, he'd heard tales of the damage done to any ship viewed as that of an enemy. He'd thought that, before he'd been banished, the power displayed by them even through legend was enough to ensure the prosperity of his people, but he'd turned out wrong. They all had.

Avaraen took his eyes off the screen, choosing instead to look at his niece as she stood beside him. He found her attractive, but being the Altaia he was, he'd learned that such a relationship would not work out. Still, he was curious as to which woman might have been bedded by his brother to have produced a child so mature-looking. She couldn't be any less than 20, though he suspected she might be closer to a hundred.

Afen noticed her uncle's gaze and, rather than looking at him to discern his thoughts on facial features alone, she simply read the topmost thoughts off his mind. "I'm two, thank you, though I daresay I appreciate the compliment on how I look." She snickered and then performed the habit her father usually made, simply creating a cushion of force to rest on before laying back into it.

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Avaraen grinned maniacally as the beast writhed on screen. he'd never known it was as large as it showed, but he'd suspected the danger. Then again, he'd never been one to worry about such things, as the creature had guarded him for much of his youth.

"Seems like humankind can't handle a little fish problem, eh brother? I think the two of us might stand a slightly better chance though, since we know how to stay in tune with things." He chuckled and walked up to where his brother was, leaving poor Afen to stand somewhat alone in the darkness behind them.

"Not as easy as you might think, Avaraen. Sure, we might be more powerful than any average human, but it was the elders that controlled the Leviathan, not the people. We would lose ourselves as surely as Zotack's men, though we might put up a bit of a fight." A slight smirk passed over his face, but it was gone withing seconds as he heard what had happened to Perdix. Before he could say anything, however, Afen stepped forwards.

"You can fix it, though, right Zotack? You managed to make me think as an adult before I was two, so it can't be that hard for you." Her tone seemed bordering on desperation, though the slight quaver was held in check as she spoke. She had known her brother had a physical deformity, but now that he had a mental one as well, she didn't know if she could bear it. No more was he the proud Atlantean he'd been when they'd met. Instead, he was no more than a tool, to be used at the discretion of his owners.

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Ev, i'm posting with Ryder though

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Afen's gaze fell as Zotack told them, and particularly her, that Perdix was a potentially lost-cause. She couldn't bear to have her brother, no matter how much he'd attempted to harm her, lost to the void so easily. His body might still be there, but if his mind were gone, what good was he?

Ikiros looked at the screen, seeing an unburned Patrick staring back at him. "You say someone brought him back to life. I take it that his rescue of my daughter was what ended up killing him?" He'd made the connection quite some time ago, having heard nothing from Patrick, though he'd expected to, after meeting his daughter. He hadn't known for certain that the man had died, not until now anyways, but he felt it answered many of the questions he had.

"Not that it matters, of course. I'd say we could find him. Two telepaths and a Vohtmali after one man? I think that's a little unfair for anyone in hiding, though Patrick may not be so easy, as none of us know where to begins looking." He smiled and relaxed, figuring that it might be a day or two before they were properly set to begin.

The setting changes from sol-avenue to Solinus Sea

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Without ceasing his motions, one hand held out as if telling the waves to stop the other running through his hair calmly. As he turned to look back at her, the waves would die down for a moment.

"Magic, likely. A rogue mage trying a spell beyond their control, or something else. Either way, the cause is likely dead and gone. I'll just be the one to keep it from going on any further. As for my concerns...Just keep your kind inside, and they should be fine. At least until the storm dies down."

He felt strange, having the camera pointed at him and his work being recorded, but it only occupied a small portion of his attention. As the storm and he continued to wage what, mentally, was akin to a war, his attention continued to be drawn to keeping the winds at bay. As he concentrated harder, small grey bolts of energy would arc out of his body and into the storm. Where they hit the walls of wind and water, they would detonate fantastically, sending ripples of energy into the storm to try and cut bits of it away.

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"Pursue them? What do you mean? As I said before, whatever caused this is likely dead. If it's not, then I'll figure it out eventually, but that might take longer than your lifetime to discern, so I wouldn't worry too much about it." He frowned a bit as a random wave come up and crashed against him, soaking him to the bone. He snarled wildly, striding out into the water further. The bubble stayed around both Claire and her crewman, but as the Elder stalked into the storm's heart, the wind whipped at him fiercely.

As he reached the outermost, visible wall of cloud and rain that remained, he let out and almighty cry, one that was clarion enough to pierce through the howling of the wind and even through the protective shell he'd left at the pier. In one motion, and a flash of silver light, the storm stopped dead, the winds dying in an instant and the raindrop floating like a million crystals in the air. The scene looked almost as though time had simply stopped around Ikiros, but the waves beneath his feet continued, showing that it had not.

And with the sound of rushing water, the drops of rain fell down to the waves and the sea became calm once more. The Atlantean walked back to where Claire was standing and removed the sphere around them, letting them breathe the salty air that had calmed to a gentle breeze. Unlike when he left, and despite having been near the storm's center, he was as dry as a desert, his hair lifting gently in the breeze.

The setting changes from solinus-sea to Gambit's Bar

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The door to bar opened, and despite the fact that the evening had begun, the place seemed fairly empty. There was the bar, just as it had been when he'd last been by, a little more stained and travel-used from the passage of an untold number of guests. He smiled slightly, then looked around. As his pale grey eyes, once as dark as thunderheads, swept across the sight of the room, he felt the nostalgia within him rising like the tide. He examined the feeling and decided that walking down memory lane would do him no harm, so as the memories of days past washed over him, overlaying his sight with half-visible shapes from them, he walked around, noting the differences in the bar.

And to him, it looked old.

He sighed and seated himself on a stool, waving away the bartender, choosing to simply close his eyes and let the memory take a more rigid hold upon his senses. He was able to smell things now, and hear the boisterous demands as one fighter challenged another. He could feel the deep humming of the heating systems in his feet, stronger in those days than now, and with every breath he could taste the tang of exotic smoke.

Though he'd not been here in a long time, longer than he expected any might remember his face, he felt at home.

As he let the memory fade back into the recesses of his mind and opened his eyes once more, he overlaid his vision with a pattern of lines, brilliant silver, that would shift with changes in emotion. If nothing else, he'd know if someone feeling anything particularly strong were nearby.

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The sovereign Atlantean's reminiscing would have to be put on hold for a while, however, as the shadow of a new figure darkened the doorway to Gambit's. He was a tall man, of central African descent. His dark grey, lustrous business suit picked up the muted, warm light of the bar and caused it to ripple over his form. To many a person, he would appear simply as a man, thirsty and tired after a hard day's work in the business districts of Wing City.

To those who were sensitive to such things, however, his entrance was a portent of grave things to come. Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, only ever took human form when he humbly sought the audience of those within the Multiverse who could assist him with dire tasks. Alas, his fell reputation often preceded him, and so too his motives. But on this particular evening, it was not he who endeavored for the undoing of man, no. That was the scheme of another, and it would have to be stopped at any and all costs. Including his own pride.

As such, Nyarlathotep took a seat on a stool next to Ikiros and hunkered down with a sigh, ordering first a gin and tonic before nodding towards the undersea monarch.

"The august climes of regency have treated you well, King..." Nyarlathotep said, his voice soft yet powerful. A deep, rich bass that carried itself into the nearby furniture.

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"And so too shall the Stars of Winter, Enigma. What brings you among those here in the mortal realm?" Despite the poorer times he'd had among the Enigmas, the Moon of Atlantis felt comfortable in his presence. At least, more so than most other beings might be. He'd come to accept what had happened in his years, and even what this being beside him had used him for, rather than wallow in the self-pity of those who did things they'd not ever wish to find themselves doing. Yet there was a part of him that did not trust Nyarlathotep, and for more than one good reason.

He looked, his eyes flicking quickly, at the drink ordered and then back to the mirror across the bar. He'd always found that mirrors told more than eyes, and as he watched the reflection of himself sit crisp and clear, that of the man beside him was poorly outlined, as if he were edge in wet ink soaking into paper.

"While I'm sure you've kept a fairly close eye on my comings and goings in the world, I had thought our business ended. Do you wish to return scars to wounds that bleed fresh with godly ichor, or has some other, more subtle and nefarious purpose brought you here? I ask not for bloodlust, but to know whether my people will need to be protected before such a feud is engaged once more." His tone was level, even cordial, but as his eyes shifted to look his once-owner in the face, silver gleamed at the edges of the pale grey of his irises, and those eyes were colder than any place known could be.