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Serfictus Vilio

The PK47 Genomic Mutation, later known as the Serfictus Plague: the unique alteration of one man's genome into something new and increasingly painful. Now, he seeks to spread his new disease in the hopes of someone finding a cure that he can benefit from.

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

Description

Hooded, cloaked and clearly very thin with red-rimmed bloodshot eyes just visible if one chooses to get close enough to look. His skin is paper thin and covered in what appears to be rampant psoriasis; large, crusty white patches cover almost all of his body, concealing just how dark his skin originally was. He tends to wear his sleeves long to hide his hands, one of which is always un-gloved; if the opportunity for skin-to-skin contact arises, he wants to be ready. Under the hood, his hair is lank and faded to grey; he is balding in places, though a shadow of his former vanity prevents him from shaving his head.

When contracted, the symptoms of PK47 are as follows:
Approximately ten to twenty minutes after infection:
- a burning sensation around the eyes. This is followed by redness and inflammation of the eyelids and overproduction of tears.
- inflammation of the soft pallet, discomfort when swallowing.
- a dry cough.
These symptoms commonly last no longer than an hour.

Approximately twelve hours after infection:
- elevated body temperature.
- dehydration.
- dry, itchy eyes and mouth.

It can take between 72 hours and a week for the characteristic white, horse-shoe shaped lesions to appear, and they can cover anything between 1% and 70% of the body. They are painful to touch, dry, and leak a translucent white fluid when cracked, as they are prone to do. The lesions last for several days before clearing up, though they scar badly. More lesions erupt even as the previous spate are healing. A bout tends to last for two weeks before there is an intermission period and then a relapse.

The plague can take several months to be eliminated from the body of a healthy individual; those weaker or more susceptible can suffer several years and have recurrent relapses.

The illness does not kill, though it weakens the immune system of the sufferer considerably.

Personality

Astoundingly bitter but otherwise rather fluid in character and mannerisms; it is possible that he has lost himself completely in illness and madness, or perhaps he is simply playing a part to achieve his own aims. It really is impossible to tell.

Equipment

What more does he need than his own bare flesh?

History

A man who once valued his looks above all else found himself withered and burned each day as he looked into the mirror. Able to discover the cause (a rare genetic mutation) but lacking the funds needed to have a cure researched and manufactured, he was essentially doomed to a life of ugliness, which in his eyes was no life at all. Too afraid to die and turned bitter by his plight, Serfictus spent what money he had on altering his condition just enough to make himself virulently infectious through touch. Unfortunately (in Servictus' near-blinded eyes) the contracted strain is far from fatal, but it serves his purpose well; it is as scarring and painful as it is infectious.

Characters currently infected:
Miranda: http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/the-multiverse/characters/miranda/
http://www.roleplaygateway.com/ylanne-u8274.html
Aeron Huo: http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/the-multiverse/characters/aeron-huo/

So begins...

Serfictus Vilio's Story

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Serfictus Vilio remained rather on edge about the entire situation and aimed not to show it. It was surprisingly easy when his face was an artificial blank. He tried to smile and only partially managed it.

"It is nice to meet you," he mumbled, examining the bar counter. "And I would like some water, please, Bug."

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Distracted, highly so, Serfictus just about managed to nod and drift after Bug as she went- where was she going? He didn't remember what she'd just said to him, which wasn't all that encouraging. Distraction was a powerful thing, apparently.

"Yes, yes, okay." She was obviously going somewhere, and he would follow her to the ends of the earth if he had to.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to The Riverbank

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Serfictus Vilio is here?

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Serfictus Vilio was quite content to wander beside Bug as she spoke, though he didn't say a great deal himself; he mumbled quietly in response when one was needed but otherwise remained sedate beside her. He was becoming more comfortable by the moment now that the external and unwanted stimuli had been removed, opening up visibly.

"I have nobody to tell," he confessed, looking at what he was being shown with a half formed smile. "Your home?"

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Serfictus Vilio smiled a little more easily as he picked a spot for himself and sat down on the grass. He didn't feel the cold, or the wet, or- much of anything, really. If he focused he could feel things, taste things, experience nature, but when he was idling it was all a numb, painless blur of unreality.

"I don't know if I have a home, but yours is lovely," He looked up at her with as much fondness as a man with an artificial face could muster. "And you're such a strong person; I envy you sometimes."

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Serfictus Vilio drew the blanket around his shoulders automatically as he took a moment to wonder at how he didn't class touching Bug as strange. Surely, after going so long... he didn't know, and something told him that there was no point in wondering about it.

"You are stronger than I," he told Bug with another careful smile. "And... I don't know. When I'm not with you or in the bar... I don't know."

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Serfictus Vilio shrugged a shoulder as he dropped his head onto Bug's shoulder unthinkingly; he was tired and it was easier to speak when he wasn't looking at her. Illogical reaction, a part of him said, but he ignored it. Whitedwarf could wait for another time; thinking of it gave him a headache.

"I don't know... maybe it's something to do with me dying, maybe it's something about- whatever it is I am now, but I don't remember what happens when I'm not with you or in the bar. I just- it's like I stop existing. There isn't a darkness, or much of anything. It's as if I go from one place and suddenly I'm in another. I have no memory of what comes in between."

The setting changes from The Riverbank to Gambit's Bar

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Serfictus Vilio slipped into the room, dressed in a long, navy robe embroidered to mimic the evening sky, sun setting in intricately stitched glory all across his side, spreading deep pinks and indigos outwards and up towards his face. His skin was white and looked artificial, almost expressionless, but his eyes were alive and there was something that could have resembled a smile on his face.

He took a seat beside the fire.

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Hooded, cloaked; covered, he couldn't even remember if it was for a reason any-more. There had been a reason once, of that he was quite certain- the bitterness still lingered in the depths of his soul- but so much had changed. There were so very many conflicting influences now.

Trying not to think, he slipped across the room to take a seat at the bar. He didn't feel a great deal, numbed, but it was preferable to pain. He sat, but didn't order a drink, choosing instead to watch the servers coast around aimlessly. When the room was empty (and he was not drinking) they had no purpose. What a strange existence that must be...

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Serfictus Vilio didn't understand. Self-awareness seemed to be a fickle thing, and that should have been alarming, and yet he felt quite sedate, if a little confused with his situation. He knew several things for certain: he was in the bar, The Bar even (his mind capitalised); he was- he was. He most certainly was.

Softly, he laughed, the sound strange and mechanical. He had words, somewhere, but they were proving elusive; even the little laughing noise was a trail. He was- he had been Andreas Di Vilio; certain fact. He had been Serfictus Vilio after that; also fact. Now he was- WhiteDwarf a part of his mind supplied, and yet-

"What does a computer do, when it isn't needed any-more?" Ah, there were the words, though he couldn't remember consciously choosing them.

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Serfictus Vilio slowly turned between the two men who appeared to have spoken to him (he wasn't certain; it was hard to be certain these days). He had some sort of purpose in mind, something that he wanted to do or say, but the thought died somewhere between inception and happening. He paused.

"But if it's obsolete, so abstracted from the norm that it's not even classed as a computer- but it was one when it was made. What is it?" He didn't even know where his thoughts were going. The lingering 'what am I' wasn't formed enough to register yet.

"If the world has changed so much..."

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Serfictus Vilio had an odd, rubbery white face with large, glassy eyes (something he was unaware of); he didn't look natural, didn't look real at all. "Down on my luck..." he murmured, his face moving elastically, but without human expression. His voice conveyed a little, but not much.

"Yes, I suppose I am down on my luck... I don't think I've ever had any luck at all, actually. I'm-" He stretched out a gloved hand, only to freeze with an almost-frown. "I- am." He blinked. "Down on my luck?" It wasn't a name though.

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What is my poison? he wondered, unreal eyes blinking slowly in thought. Surely there's something ironic in that? Poisonous, probably. For some reason, his thoughts made him want to laugh, but he just shook his head instead.

"Anything, really, it's fine; I'll drink anything. I'm-" Andreas? Serfictus? Sol's WhiteDwarf? Terra's Knight Angel? They all seemed right but so, so wrong. "I'm- in the market for a new name, I think. Would you be able to help me find one?"

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Serfictus Vilio (and he still felt like Serfictus, but he felt like all the others as well) wasn't quite sure what to make of that, so he took his drink instead, humming tunelessly. He took a sip, thoughtful. "I think I've had this before. Actually, I'm sure I have. I have had a Gin and Tonic before, definitely. Though I don't remember it tasting quite so much like rubber... but I think that taste was already in my mouth."

For some reason, it was hard to sense anything when he wasn't focussing directly on it. Now that he was concentrating, he could definitely taste rubber as well as Gin and Tonic. How odd. "I don't know about colours," he continued, distracted. "But I think that, if I was a colour, I would be-. No. White. White."

It was an unconscious gesture that had him shrugging his hood back, revealing a strange, rubberised face, smooth and clammy-white. He didn't look real; lacking eyelashes, eyebrows, hair, ears, fine definition. He also didn't seem aware of the fact.

"I don't feel much like a Fred, I'm afraid."

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Serfictus Vilio thoughtfully pulled off one of his gloves, staring hard at his right hand. He- didn't know what he looked like, he realised. The hand that he was quite sure belonged to him looked only a little bit like a hand; it had four fingers and a thumb, but it also had little webs between them, and no fingernails. It was white. Stark, rubbery white.

"I don't think I'm a wizard, but- I don't think I'm a human being, either." He turned to look at whatever his new friend was staring at. "You don't like that person," he murmured, turning back again. "Should I not like him too?"

That was right, wasn't it? He didn't like people that weren't liked by whoever was in charge?

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Serfictus Vilio nodded his head slowly, with the very faintest hiss of high-quality hydraulics. He smiled, almost, as his eyes swept over his new companion-commander-friend; he knew what testing strength looked like. He looked down at his hand, and then freed the other. "I- feel like a Serfictus, I think. That was the name I gave myself, I think I'll keep it."

Contemplatively, he flexed his nail-less fingers, joints clicking, metallic. "This body is strong." Fact. His old body had not been: also fact. Though he couldn't remember where that thought came from. "If you need me to help you, I will help you, because I am strong."

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"Well, I certainly come from somewhere, though at the moment I can't say I'm entirely sure where that somewhere is. How odd; I didn't really think about that before you asked." He grinned (still sort of; his face wasn't very inclined to follow what his brain told it to do), picking up his forgotten drink and draining it.

"I'm pretty sure I've seen a war, too. Maybe three different wars? I remember doing things for different people, fighting people, sort of, because I had to, and then because I was told to. But I don't really remember very much about it." Or much of anything, really. "But I remember you; you're Tycho, my drinking buddy."

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Serfictus Vilio laughed very quietly, because he remembered things like that being funny; not looking at a glass and realising it was empty before trying to drink. "I- seem to remember things as they occur. My name, for instance, is a point of contention even within my own head; I seem to have four of them, which is quite ridiculous. A person only needs one name, after all."

He shrugged, then, and nudged his empty glass in Tycho's direction, hopeful. "I don't feel worried that my memory is a bit- not there. I can't very well make it come back by worrying about it." He smiled, this time making an actual expression, though it was rather stunted.

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Serfictus Vilio opened his mouth to reveal a synthetic tongue and small, even plastic teeth, then closed it again, thinking. "Yes, four names. Andreas Di Vilio; that was me, the 'real' me, but all the others are me too, which is awfully confusing. I was definitely Andreas Di Vilio first, and I- he wasn't a very nice man. Serfictus Vilio, that's me too, though I chose that name. I think Andreas was my real, proper name."

He didn't feel like he was making a great deal of sense, but continued for the sake of his friend. "Someone else called me WhiteDwarf. I was Sol's WhiteDwarf, I belonged to Sol. Then I was Terra's Knight Angel. I belonged to her as well. I- can't quite remember who I belong to now, so I guess I belong to myself."

He shrugged, just about smiling again. "It doesn't concern me, unless I start to think that I need to be concerned."

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It was entirely possible that Serfictus (he had chosen the name for himself and intended to keep it, even if things had changed) had been sitting in the bar for several days, though he couldn't be certain. He had been here previously, possibly several times, he knew that much, but separating one encounter from another was proving next to impossible. Every time he started sorting it all out in his head, it stopped seeming important and he lost track, having to start all over again when he remembered.

Currently in an unconcerned period, he viewed the empty room quietly, humming tunelessly under his breath. For some reason, he didn't actually need to breathe, which was- odd. Not concerning though. Nothing was concerning right now. He took a sip of his drink, still humming.