[Twi]Chronicles of the Impaler: Crisis of Infinite Draculas OOC

[Colesign]

Your statment makes the assumption that there is ever a political leader worthy in any which way, shape, or form of having.

Viva La Anarchia!

But what's got your ballot boxes in a twist?

[darkblade]

Considering how well most of our character's attempts at other political systems (Authority, V (both of them unless they are the same and time travel was involved), Empress Blackstaff, etc) it could be far worse.

But real world political discussion is against the board rules here.

[industrious]

I am not at 100%. Updating will probably happen this weekend. Or tomorrow.

That being said, I have a snippet for our shared universe-it's not complete, but I have the whole thing in my head. Sitting around all day means I can do some random thinking.

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He drifted outside of the Universe.

Nothing encircled him; emptiness contained him.

Outside of Creation, beyond the reach of the Dark Tower, he existed for eternity. Or no time at all.

It was the same thing, really.

There were things Outside.

And they were hungry.

[darkblade]

I like it. Nicodemus and some proper Lovecraftian monstrosities?

[Cracklord]

I doubt any of you are particularly familiar with Australian politics anyway.

I am not at 100%. Updating will probably happen this weekend. Or tomorrow.

That being said, I have a snippet for our shared universe-it's not complete, but I have the whole thing in my head. Sitting around all day means I can do some random thinking.

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He drifted outside of the Universe.

Nothing encircled him; emptiness contained him.

Outside of Creation, beyond the reach of the Dark Tower, he existed for eternity. Or no time at all.

It was the same thing, really.

There were things Outside.

And they were hungry.

Good opening, but needs a bit more meat on it.

[Colesign]

I apologize for being late with submitting for Crisis of Infinite Draculas.

I think my tastes have shifted to Space Opera at the moment, and that interferes with my mood.

Might have to throw in some giant mechas...but never fear. Update coming up!

It'll all end in flames...

[industrious]

If Space Opera is what you crave, Colesign, I recommend the Deathstalker series by Simon R Green. It's the most gloriously over the top Space Opera that I know of.

[Cracklord]

I think my tastes have shifted to Space Opera at the moment, and that interferes with my mood.

Might have to throw in some giant mechas...but never fear. Update coming up!

By all the fel powers of this world, please no. What is this, Axe Cop?

[Colesign]

Well, you know...

...this was supposed to be a silly game.

But don't worry: I promise it won't go to Axe Cop-like Lengths.

And I won't pull giant mechas out of my ass.

[Draxx]

Sorry about my absence. You know what term can be like.

[industrious]

I am not at 100%. Updating will probably happen this weekend. Or tomorrow.

That being said, I have a snippet for our shared universe-it's not complete, but I have the whole thing in my head. Sitting around all day means I can do some random thinking.

Spoiler

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He drifted outside of the Universe.

Nothing encircled him; emptiness contained him.

Outside of Creation, beyond the reach of the Dark Tower, he existed for eternity. Or no time at all.

It was the same thing, really.

There were things Outside.

And they were hungry.

Continuing this little snippet. I'm not quite dead yet!

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They fed.

Not just on his mind.

Not merely on his soul.

Not only on his memories.

On him. All of him.

He would have screamed if he could.

Time was meaningless Outside of time. In the beginning, there was no beginning to his torment. But as the creatures of Nothing took from him, they were changed by him. Shards of shattered glass taken from a black mirror.

He tried to fight back, after something resembling time reemerged. But he could not create in the places beyond the Tower. He could not forge something out of Nothing.

He fed the creatures feasting on him unimportant things. Memories of meaningless details and intricate plots, odd little quirks of personality and scraps of his soul, so that as much of who he was could remain until the end.

He would not give up. This would not be the end for him.

In the wild realms beyond Creation, Nicodemus Archleone began to scheme once more.

Critiques are always welcome.

[Cracklord]

Another tantalizing glimpse into the return of Ol' Nick. He's in a bad place, he is being gnawed on by minor eldritch abominations (or, more precisely, their ghosts), going insane, and Andurial was eaten by Mournblade who now has a taste for the rest of him.
But somehow, I think he's going to bounce back up.

Anyway, part two of the dream cycle. Not my best work, but there's some good themes in there, if you look for them.

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There are only seven stories, or so it is claimed. And really, archetypes would suggest as such, that all tales share a common root, can be traced to the same origin. But stories dissected to such a point are utterly valueless, robbed of what made them stories in the first place. It is not the essence, the linier progression that makes a tale, but the flourishes, the roots, morals and embellishments that made them worthwhile. A good story is greater then the sum of it’s parts, more then it’s concept.
So the Lord of Dream knew. Like stories, he was a product of the minds that imagined them, and gave them significance, and so even as he influenced the stories, he himself changed, just as the act of observing changes the observer.
Even now, he was watching a grand drama unfold, and trying to make sense of his own impulses. Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance were reliving a story he had told many times, and one he would tell many times more. Their meetings were passionate and intense, followed by long periods apart, for two such souls could not long bear each others company, the very qualities that attracted them to each other forcing them apart.
Then he had marched into hell to rescue her, and even now she searched the cosmos looking for him, though she would never find him. The romantic within him would have it no other way, they would be separated and pine endlessly.
So why was it he found the story in his head seeming to take shape differently, almost as if it had taken a life of it’s own (which was ridiculous, he was the life of the story) and was rearranging itself to it’s own purpose…

In the front lobe of the brain, the Kamen Rider Decade, Tsukasa Kadoya, was led, somewhat unwillingly, by the tall, lean wisp of a brother to the dark house on the hill. It was all such a manor should be, the paint peeling, the timbers splintered and unstable looking, the narrow windows allowing only the slightest amount of light entry, throwing strange shadows all over the ancient, dusty furniture. Indeed, it was the essence of every haunted house in existence all rolled into one.
Cain walked ahead, hanging his coat on a peg, and making his way to the dining table which, judging by the dust and cobwebs, had never been used. He sat down and poured himself a glass of rich, golden liquid, Soma, that had been a gift from Lord Morpheus himself for one of his more inspired creations, which he downed in a single gulp. He wiped the foam off his lips with the back of his hand and a sigh of contentment, then peered over his half-moon spectacles at Tsukasa, with a sort of amused twinkle that nobody in their right mind would mistake for anything other then malevolence, and then rested his long chin on his knuckles.
“I’d offer you some, except it’s too valuable to waste.”
“That, and you’re a bastard. But we both already knew that.” He glanced down at his watch. “That’s ten minutes of my time you’ve wasted.”
“Temper, temper.” He chided, pleased with the rise he got. Cain liked tormenting those he dealt with, it was one of his lifes few pleasures. That, and killing Abel. “Well, if you insist on rushing into things, I’ll get started. All the best stories start with ‘Once apon a time’. Anyone who says different isn’t as smart as they think.” He said, with a mad sort of joviality. “Though there is something to be said for ‘It was a dark and stormy night’, and ‘It was the best of times, and the worst of times’ has always been a personal favorite of mine. I was Dickens’ favorite muse, you know. All the long-lost relatives meeting in contrived circumstances, that was me, though nightmare has always been more my specialty.”
“Fourteen minutes.” Tsukasa replied, having not once glanced up from his watch, already bored. “And counting.”
“Come now, the story’s just started. I know you’re the grim, goal-oriented sort, who will not believe that the joy is in the journey and not the destination no matter how many times it is proven to you, but surely you must realize that you are missing the point. For an ending, all you have to do is turn to the back page and see what is there. But I tell tales, and tales follow their own pace. If you think that lovemaking is the little squirt at the end, then there is no helping you at all.”
Tsukasa Kadoya looked up, as much in shock as anything else. “I’d say you have a point, except I hate smug people who think they know so much better then everyone else.” he replied, lips tightening. “So I’ll just let you have the floor from here. You want to tell the story, and I can’t leave. Or, apparently, make you shut up. On the vague chance it’s not an act and you really do have something useful to impart I’ll listen, but don’t act like we’re friends, or that I’m interested in what you say.”
“Friends? I’ve never had one of those. Always found it a rather horrifying concept, truth be told. Now this story is one that you’ve heard before, in some form, because it’s that old. One of the oldest. And it’s about all sorts of important things that are pertinent to your own story. Let me tell you the tale of the first Knight of Winter.”
Cain’s voice lost some of it’s sardonic, mocking quality, and it’s timber richened, transporting the Kamen Rider to an earlier time, of chivalry and honor, of treachery and brutality. He may be a thoroughly unlikeable cuss, but he was born to spin yarns. “Once upon a time, there was a realm that was like no other, now or then, or even to come. It’s king was kind and fair, compassionate and wise, terrible when roused but quick to forgive. He did what nobody before had been able to do, and created a realm of peace and prosperity where before there had been only war and brutality. Not by murdering those who spoke against him and bloody conquest, any thug with a club can do that, but by making the factions forgive each other, and stop wanting to fight. His name was Arthur Pendragon, and he’s remembered to this day. But his downfall was to follow, for tragedies are compelling. In ignorance, he slept with his half-sister, and conceived a child that would bring the ruin of all he had achieved.”
“And Arthur had achieved much, he had stabilized the warring factions as I said, and more then that, brought about the end to the philosophy that might made right. He had created a law that applied to all men equally, regardless of station, and so hoped to turn humanity to more constructive pursuits. He had tossed back those older things that preyed on humanity, slaughtering them if it came to it, and he had turned towns into prosperous cities. He had taken the best, and mightiest men he knew, and had shared with them his idea, that force should be used, if it were used at all, on behalf of justice, not on it’s own account. It was a fine idea, even I say so, and so were born the Knights of the Round table. And it is here that our story begins.”
The story then seemed to take on a life of it’s own. No longer was it this old, snide and somewhat cruel man’s words, but he felt as though he were actually there, witnessing the events as they happened, not merely with his senses but actually feeling the emotions and responses of the participants. He realized that at some point Cain had stopped speaking, but he had no idea when, and found himself caught up in ancient events that came to him not in a long sequence but rather in a series of glimpses, flashing parts of the greater whole.
Two figures stood over a lake, a slender, fierce looking girl, no more then sixteen, hair like midnight streaming down her back, the sun striking the polished silver facets of her silver breastplate. The exultant glimmer in her eye, the set of her jaw, the regal posture, there was power in every comely line of her. She was young, no older then fifteen as humans reckoned things, ancient beyond reckoning objectively.
Her companion towered above her. He was tall and well built, with eyes like ocean storms. His ornately etched silver armor seemed to reflect every light source, bathing him in a halo of simmering beauty. He was handsome. The aquiline lines and planes of his features could have been sculpted by an artist as an astonishing example of stark male beauty. Yet it is his nobility, his pride, and his slightly incongruous gentleness that draws the eye.
The two were brought together in unusual circumstances, as to be expected about such an incongruous couple, too unlikely to relate. And when they'd first met, she looked up at him, and found him looking at her with an expression in his blue-grey eyes that wrenched her heart – sympathy mingled with pain, understanding mingled with desire. No man had ever looked at her like that before.
In that moment, Aurora, The Queen Who Was To Come of Summer, fell into love, plunged into it, leapt into love’s chasm with all her heart and soul.
She lowered her eyes in confusion, unable to speak. She had been drawn to him the moment she saw him, and had made up her mind to use him, as she had used many pawns over her life, to further her own ambitions. She had been the poet’s dream of an innocent maiden, one that Aurora had never been. Life held no secrets from a child of the fai. But Aurora had seen innocence, if she had never experienced it. She had a spy’s talent for observation, an actresses talent for mimicry, and a dog’s talent for doing whatever it took to please the one she needed to impress.
Bedivere was exactly what she’d needed, and she’d intended to use him for her own betterment, increasing her own standing in her mothers court through the subtle manipulations they were all so fond of. She had not meant to love him. Not intended it, nor even suspected it was possible she feel this way about anything. Then had come his gentle touch, the respectful manner in which he had spoken to her, the masterful way he acted when called on to do so, his calmness and patient strength, quiet, yet nonetheless tangible. And suddenly she was forced to deal with emotions she was not equipped to handle.
Aurora stood quivering beside him, knowing shivering anticipation and terrible, chilling fear. She wanted this man more then anything in her life, and she knew he was as far beyond her reach as a blazing star. More to it, she knew she would do anything to have him, even to be the demure, sweet girl she had appeared to ensnare him, if that was what it took to keep him near her.
“Lady Aurora? Are you well?” He asked, stretching out a rough hand, calloused and leathery from sword practice, and squeezing her own small one. “You seem troubled.”
“I am better then I have ever been.” She replied, looking up at him with eyes filled with adoration, laying her soul bare. “Sir knight, I feel all is right with the world at long last.”
Cain paused, and took another drink of distilled belief, savoring it. “And so a maiden found a heart she did not know she had, and wed a mortal despite all that made her being opposed to it. And for a time, they were happy. But only a time. For love is meaningless until tested, which is usually the case, and it is those who have the most to lose that have tragedies befall them.”
“And what does any of this have to do with me?”
“Maybe you don’t understand the significance. Romeo and Juliet is better known, it would be, Lord Morpheus kept the Bard to himself, but the stakes are a little higher here. Her people hate you, you moon-eyed fool. More then you can believe, because you are a rational man. You don’t know what it is to lose everything, to have your entire world stolen from you, and to watch as the thieves squander it, destroying all you loved and remember and leaving you nothing more then a memory. But they do.”
“And what do the fey have to do with me? Oh, I forgot, nothing.”
“The characters have changed, but the plot has not.” Cain replied, sounding almost patient, if in the manner the patronizing explain what they consider to be simple to the very dense. “And as for concerning you, you'll just have to wait and find out.”
He grumbled a moment, then found his place, sinking smoothly back into the flow of narrative. “For there was something rotten in the heart of Camelot. In the wars to come, the destiny of the world would be decided. The Fey chose a champion, and as Winter did, so did Summer follow. For though they hate mortals, blaming them for the loss of the material world and their existence on the fringes of chaos amongst the other dreams, they value self-preservation and power far more.”

Next time: Mordred Pendragon and Mab make their deal.

Also, the long awaited return of Sade and Deadpool, everyone's favorite badguy duo!

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Deadpool sat at the edge of the bench in the park, named after some famous personage or another, just beneath the hill that led up to the asylum. It was never crowded, but it was unusually empty today. Maybe after living so long in the closest thing to hell on the planet, the people of Gotham could sense danger about to happen. Maybe Deadpool was scaring them away. Who knew, right?
At the moment, the Merc with a Mouth was reading a book (which he was holding upside down. He'd realized the mistake the second he'd picked it up, but putting it the right way up would be admitting defeat) explaining the setting and detonation of explosives, in order to make the most of the bag sitting next to him. He'd done a lousy job of setting them up, the oh so delicate nitroglycerine was on the bottom, beneath some very heavy examples of the bomb-makers craft. But really, that was the least of his problems.
“It's important to keep your own safety in consideration when you…blah, blah, blah… Make sure you first…blah, blah, blah…"
He snorted and crumbled it up into a ball, then tossed it into the pond where a duck ate it and choked after mistaking it for a breadcrumb, and stood up.
"I’ll figure it out as I go. Got me this far. Let’s see here" He picked up a device and a soldering iron, then put them back down, realizing he had no power outlet to plug them in. "…maybe if I just… button..."
The raw explosives stared back, mocking his pitiful attempts to understand them. A muscle above his eye twitched, then he turned his back, stood up and walked towards his brother, leaving the dubious benefits of technology to those who were in a position to make sense of them.
Slade was on the top of the hill, watching the mental institution above through a telescope. At night the place looked quite sinister, but by day, it was sad more then anything. His trained eyes continue their surveillance, carefully taking note of all details, and cutting out all distractions. Unfortunately, his main distraction tended to take that as a challenge.
"This is all a waste of time. Why don't we just blow up his house and call it a day."
"Batmans been around a long time. If he can't deal with an explosion, he'd never have lasted this long." Slade replies, without turning around. "If a superhero can be killed by an explosion, you can tell that their heart isn't really in the job."
"Then make it a really big explosion."
"Look. I know you're bored. Why don't you go eat candyfloss or something while I do the reconnaissance and observation."
"Hey! I'm totally useful. Stop trying to get me out of the way."
Slade pulled out his cellphone, and handed it to Wade. "It's for you."
Wade picked it up and put it to his ear. Silence sounded back at him. "Who has disturbed my slumber?" he demanded, but no reply came. Nothing was said. "The quiet game, huh? Well of course you understand, this means war."
Twenty blessed minutes later, Deadpool returned, having finally conceded to the worthy opponent that he could not hope to win. Deathstroke hadn't even stirred. Perhaps he hadn't even blinked. Now that was just scary.
"You know, we're making this too complicated. The guy leaves his house all the time, and we won't catch him sleeping anyway. Who says Batman even sleeps? We could just stake the place out, wait for him to go out, call Deadshot, or if he's too hard to get in contact with, Bullseye, and have him shoot the guy."
"I thought of that." Slade replies, after his shock wore off. His little brother was usually something of a liability in this stage, he only really came into his own if Deathstroke needed a human shield or someone to set off the traps. It was always strange when he suddenly slipped into being useful again. Unfortunately, those times were hard to come by. "It's not as good an idea as it sounds like."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Extra special sure?"
Silence.
"Do I sense a lack of confidence?"
Silence.
"Don't you want to explain to me how brilliant you are? How you've planned everything? Come on, we both know you have a prepared speech somewhere, huh?"
Silence.
"Me, I am never prepared. It just sort of happens."
Silence.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very zen outlook on life?"
Silence.
"If you want to go to Disneyland, make no sign."
Knife in between vertebrae six and seven.
"Can I count that as a maybe?"
Deathstroke finally stirred. "Okay. I've got a good idea of all the systems in place. Their not designed to keep people out, so much as in, but they're good. They just weren't designed with us in mind. I can see a few ways to get through." He paused. "Getting the people inside out without tipping off our hand, that might be a little harder."
"Airvents?"
"Too small to fit through."
"Some people have no sense of tradition. Then again, what can you expect in a place like this? I mean, it's kind of a dump anyway, right? 'Course, that's just my opinion. Some people might quite like it."
"Nah, the place looks like it was designed by the Hammer Horror brothers as a prop." Slade replied, standing up and stretching like a panther. "Who in their right mind would think this is the place to reintegrate psychopaths into society? I feel a bit insane just looking at it."
"Oh. I though that was just me being me." As dangerous lunatics go, Deadpool was remarkably well adjusted to his condition.
"Right. Dawn."
"You sure? I mean, we normally work at night..."
"Everyone here works at night. The local superhero even dresses up as a giant bat. They expect night attacks. So that's when they'll be on their guard. We attack at dawn."
"Sneaky."

[Draxx]

We've always lacked hate-crimes in this game. People who kill wizards or whatever have always been shown to be right. I've decided it's time we change that.

[darkblade]

Baby Bonnie Hood was off her rocker but so was the entire game she showed up in. I think the main reason we don't delve too far into "He hunts monsters" territory is because well it leads to us question the murder of annoying but harmless tween romance vampires.

[Draxx]

Yeah, I suppose you're right. Actually, I can't honestly say if I have any idea of who the good guys were in that game, or even if we won, or what.
As for delving into the whole 'staring into the abyss' angle, I'd say that anyone who has stared into the abyss enough would be less likely to question themselves.

[Colesign]

I think we've been up to moral codes in this game...if only because the Twipires have always been portrayed as either being relatively innocent or up to their sparkly necks in freaky destructive plans.

Of course, when the 'Evil Player Characters' get involved...

[industrious]

Agreed.

Sorry about my lack of posting. This quarter has involved a whole lot of things I'd rather not deal with.

[Terry576]

I

I just wanted to know what the policies on this are. Is it FFRP - fully open? Or is it recruitment only?

I kind of want to play

[Cracklord]

As far as I know, always fully open. Welcome to our community, enjoy yourself. We don't have much in the way of rules, just get on with everyone else, don't tread on toes unless they are cool with it, and try and tell the best story you can. Just pick up to two characters that fit the setting (at the moment, a high-class academy) and are alright with the story-teller (Darkblade at the moment), then get posting.

By this point, there's a mountain of back-story, some of it of great and powerful beauty, most of it rambling and mostly incoherent, but you don't really need to understand it beyond that all our games take place in a shared universe. If something is confusing you, ask one of the regulars, who'll probably clear it up.

[Terry576]

I'm fairly certain that it's a basic "Let's You and Him Fight" thing, with a start of "Kill the members of the Twilight books". I didn't join back then because back then I was um

a terrible writer

Besides I read the TVTropes Page. I'll go steal a character from shows I like tomorrow - it's one in the morning right now.

[Cracklord]

I see you have already seized the basic premise, indeed the very cornerstone. You should fit in just fine.

Speaking of the Tvtrope page, someone should really update.

Sorry about my lack of posting. This quarter has involved a whole lot of things I'd rather not deal with.

It happens. Just maintain a pace you are comfortable with.

[Terry576]

Screw it I have time right now.

Is Archer taken? If not, I've got Tohno Shiki, Kamijou Touma, and like fourty bajillion other characters lined up.

Bed time now.

EDIT: Arcueid for my titular female character. Everybody gets one.

[Cracklord]

Archer is taken, as his Shirou. Indeed, their origins have been somewhat expanded, and it is revealed that Shirou is going to become a legendary hero in an upcoming war involving Brittania (Code Geas) and Kira (Death Note), thereby gaining the necessary acclaim to ascend to the very role he's trying to escape.

Shiki is not. Prime37 wanted to play him formerly, but that never happened.

[Terry576]

Eh. I'll take Shiki then - because his eyes are actually really entertaining to use to break the poor bastard. Especially in a setting where you lot consistently have ludicrous things like demons in human form.

I'm just going to rattle off a list now.

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Isaac (Golden Sun), Sora (KH), Ventus (KH), Terra (KH), Aya Brea (The 3rd Birthday), Minato Arisato (Persona 3), Seta Souji (Persona 4), Alice (The Looking Glass Wars), Arthur (Keys to the Kingdom), Bartimaeus (Bartimaeus Trilogy), Lightning (FF13), Aigis (Persona 3), Lyra (His Dark Materials), Will Parry (His Dark Materials), Redd (The Looking Glass Wars), Saber (Fate/Stay Night), Saber (Fate/Extra), Soma Cruz (Castlevania), Shanoa (Castlevania), Rider (Fate/Extra), Fiamma of The Right (Index), Misaka Mikoto (Index), Accelerator (Index), Ichika (Infinite Stratos), Chifuye (Infinite Stratos)

I went for lesser known things this time, despite knowing full well that half of them are taken. (Bartimaeus totally is, he's a fairly popular character.)

My god that is a lot of people jesus christ

I'll probably only use three or four (I have the best grasp on Touma and the Saber(s) - as I actually write fanfiction for F/SN, and Touma is one of my favorite characters ever,) but the massive list is in case the ones that I like are taken. Don't want to bother you with RAMPANT SPAM OF CHARACTERS

[Cracklord]

Maximum of two in this game, though related characters don't count. For instance, playing Light Yagami, I also get Misa and Ryuk, though Darkblade plays them more often then I do (I suspect I am the one Death Note fan to like Misa, and respect her abilities and intelligence).

Now, first up allow me to congratulate you on your taste. That's a wide selection that shows a healthy appetite for stories in all their many forms.

I'd advise Touma, I'm not actually familiar with the character, but you should always go with characters you can get comfortably into. At least, as long as they are interesting.

I'd give you advice on all the characters on the list, except I'm only actually familiar with around half. If it's any consolation, I like the half I do know of.

[darkblade]

Welcome aboard. I am rather unfamiliar with most of the characters you have listed.

That said Shiki's powers would compliment the Death Note and Code Geass type powers quite well.

Now I'm unfamiliar with the rules of the Fate Stay series, is it possible to have more than one of a particular class of Servant? If it isn't then we might have a problem with Tomou and Saber since I've already cast King Mickey as a Saber.

[Terry576]

Touma is completely seperate from Saber - he operates in Index while Saber is in Fate/Stay Night.

And the rule about classes depends on which canon you use. In the actual Fate/Stay Night - yes, only one of every class. In Fate/Extra, multiples are allowed.

[Cracklord]

Well, if that's figured out, then just give a picture, a list of strengths and weaknesses, then wait for Darkblade to introduce you.
Or, if he asks you to, introduce yourself.

And watch out for Alex, he's got a quota of violence to fill.

[Terry576]

Characters:

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Kamijou Touma

Strengths:

• Against Magic/Supernatural Abilities - Cancellation
• Street fights
• Right hand that can cancel "The miracles of god himself."
• The ancient and renowned martial art of punching things with his right hand.
• Strength of Will

Weaknesses:

• Unlucky
• Normal, non supernatural talents. (EG; Swords that don't have fancy abilities and are just flat out "I hit you with my sword" and such.)
• Girls in danger

Tohno/Nanaya Shiki

Strengths:

• Fast Movements
• Fast Attacks
• Things with a perception of death
• Mystic Eyes of Death Perception

Weaknesses:

• Headaches from his eyes
• things with no perception of death
• things that move at a faster speed/higher strength than him
• Naivety
• Anemic
• Split personality
• Defenseless as Tohno Shiki

I'm kind of excited to be honest. I haven't had to work my legitimate writing
muscles in ages.

And quotas of violence mean nothing when one of my characters is kind of a casual murderer

[Draxx]

Bit more detail might be good, for people unused to your characters.