Post by Black Waltz No. 3 on Jul 31, 2010 13:50:47 GMT
Full Name: Black Waltz No. 3
Nickname(s): Three
Custom Title Exist only to Kill!
Age: 11, though has the mentality of a 32 year old
Sex: Male
Race: Black Mage
Sexual Orientation: He cares little for gender, though seems inclined towards femininity
Place of Birth: Dali
Current Location: Lurching down some train tracks somewhere
General Appearance: He can be likended to an Eagle in many respects. Prodominantly in his huge wings which just scream of power. Great commanding wings unspread around a slender body. Shimmering blue in colour, they are noticible from miles around as the sweep through the air. His coverts are a translucent turqoise blue, travelling in gradients down across his primaries as they become a deep azure. The striking feathers seem sharp and dangerous in their own right. The great wings lead down into a feathered ruff which is almost always tense and puffed up with sheer rage. This down itself is soft to the touch and warm.
This Ruff streches around his neck and the feathers hide much of his face. Not that there was much to see, anyway. What seems like a black orb is all that consists of his visage, asides from striking amber eyes which burn with white hot passion that stare out. Slender and slit-like, the eyes appear to be on fire, the middle a glowing white which disappaits into an amber. This white center acts as a pupil: always centered, it makes it easier to tell which direction he is looking.
His face is further framed by his steepled hat. The hat itself is not in good condition, yet is certainly not as bad as Ones. It stands erectly upwards, yet there is a deep gash down the center barely reapired with a few lazy sitches. The edges are ragged, torn and scruffy. It is clearly not in the best condition, yet he appears not to care. This hat seems to contrast the rest of his appearance.
He stands with good posture. This posture whispers of his dominating personality. His chest pushes forewards with his slightly arched back, his slender body coming in a triangular shape to form a slender waist before fanning out with slightly wider hips. This posture is emphasised greatly with his clothing.
His clothing appears well made, perhaps not as well as Twos, but certainly tailor made. He adorns a blue jacket which hugs tightly to his body, espically emphasising his waist. He has puffy shoulder pads to emphasises muscle and his jackets material hangs loosly down his arms before reaching a tight bound on his wrist before forming large puffed cuffs.
From his waist, his jacket widens and juts out in three seperate cuts. An apparant underjacket appears in a deepr shade of blue, great pads forming in multiple directions ringed in sharp hooks. They form in the shape of a Victorian dress. Beneath this, slender legs kick out, draped in white material which form stockings. Ribbons bind his feet, forming the illusion of shoes.
Image:
History: Light swirled through the darkness. Like reflections of water. Blurred Confusion. Tension... He flexed his wrist, flicking his talons. Then one emotion seemed to rise through him. Eyes widened and he lost control. His whole body swelled with emotion as he slashed out, grabbing one of the black mages who was working on him, throwing him violently across the room, tearing his head off and sending stuffing everywhere. Stuffing? No, no that wasn't enough. That wasn't what this emotion called for.
Forming something in his hands... Yes! Yes let it burn. Yellow dancing around red and orange. It felt so natural, so good. Mindless. No thought. Only emotion. Only rage. He saw the flash of blue and red. Wanted to destroy them so much. Slashing talons and red fire hissed and burned around the two. Yes... Slash his face... Red liquid... Only more anger. Anger and hate and rage. It was all he could feel. He didn't even feel pain or fear when the red and blue men overcame him. Forced him back down, put him back to sleep.
When Three was first created, he was far too violent. Far too merciless. Too angry. Zorn and Thorn could not command something which was mindless and so angry. They had wanted to drain all emotion from him, wanted him to be just as mindless as the other mages. Yet it was impossible. Something with so much magical power could not be stable without the beast controlling itself. So the jesters imbued him with Sentience. Gave to him every single emotion that any human could possibly feel. Yet he still chose to be angry. Chose to be full of rage. There was nothing the jesters could do, but at least he listened to them now.
From Dali he was brought back to Alexandria castle. The fresh creation was presented to Brahne, who seemed disintrested and dismissed him right away. he was then taken to one of the upper towers which was locked off to everyone else. He was left there with his brother and sister and would not see Zorn and Thorn for some time.
As they closed the door, he looked towards the other two with contempt. He showed no intrest in either of them, floating off to what would be his bed and staring out the window. Thinking. It was all he ever seemed to do. Constantly thinking..
Soon, the other two approched him. As he began to build relationships with them, he began to reject them even further. Two was almost as powerful as himself. His own capabilities and potential was never fully realized. When they dueled, she would always smite him. She was more experienced than he, and at first he simply could not catch up. He felt imferiour and useless, which only further fueled his undying rage.
His hatred for her blossomed when one night she defeated him in a single blow of Fira. The seeds within him began to grow, twisting through him as his anger only made him stronger. Slowly he began to turn the tables on her. Then one night he finalised his dominance. For the first time he felt the emotion Lust. This lust and this desire grew to become as strong as his feelings of rage. He watched two, watched as she seemed to tease him. Seeings signs in her very breath that she desired him. His rage only pulsated and grew. He took her violently after she beat him again in battle. He had come so close. So close... He wouldn't allow it.
He expressed the ultimate power of his domnance, forcing her to become his. He made sure One watched as he dominated her, made sure the other, weaker Waltz knew he was on top (pun not intended). When he was done with her, he thirsted to kill her, but held back the desire. Tossing her aside he returned to his bedroom, wbody tingling as he realized just what he was. He was almightly. Untamable. Indominatable. He was pleased.
He would continue to abuse the female waltz, putting her in his place as he began to smite her in duels. His power grew beyond hers, though not by much. He assumed that nothing would be able to defeat him if he could destroy two. Though he had been given far stronger spells that those that he used, he had not practised using them enough. He had become arrogant, seeing no use in wasting them when a Thundara would do. It took a lot of concentration to use the Aga spells and being impacient, he simply tossed them aside. His arrogance would be his final downfall later in his life.
Zorn and Thorn later spoke with him, giving him his duty. He was to protect the princess at all costs. Yet he was never to touch her. Never to harm her. Never to speak to her. Never to let her see him.
He accepted his task. Then he saw her. A desire overcame him. Far stronger than any feelings he had for that bitch who dared to call herself a waltz. He lusted deeply for that beautiful girl from his stoop on high. He protected her, taking responsibilty for her as he followered her. He slowly feel deeper and deeper into this uncontrollable lust. Seething through him it made him fall to his knees with desire. All he longed for was her. All he wished for was her. Wished to throw her against the ground and force his way inside before finally slitting that delicate little throat of hers.
He confided a little in One. He had always had a semi-good relationship with the elder Waltz. He was much, much weaker than himself and seemed to sometimes produce intelligent bits of conversation. Though he never revealed who it was, he confided that he "loved" someone. He discussed with One things he would never be able to discuss with anyone else. He took it as a sign of friendship, though there was no real liking there.
This one desire went on to dominate his life. Though he never touched her, never caused harm against her, he was simply waiting. Watching and waiting. Waiting for his chance when he could blame the deed upon someone else.
Then she ran away.
His brother and his sister fell.
The airship spun by. Zorn and Thorn asked if he was ready. A smile passed his features, totally unnotciable by anyone else in the world. He took to the air, his desires finally coming into realization.
Then... He was defeated. His mind reverted back to his old programming. He forgot all senses of logic, forgetting all loyalty. He flew into his death, further corrupting his mind.
Yet dawn would break his mind again. A stray, lindblum taveller found him imbedded in the train tracks, and stitched the malificent doll back together. Now with the added pleasure of revenge, he took to his rebellion. Turn against his masters and finally embracing freedom, though he was eternally locked within his one mission.
Retrieve the Princess.
Abilities/Skills: Fire
Blizzard
Thundra
Fira
Blizzara
Blizzaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Firaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Thundaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Freeze
Hit
How did you find us? You advertised on my site, Cries of the Planet :3
Nickname(s): Three
Custom Title Exist only to Kill!
Age: 11, though has the mentality of a 32 year old
Sex: Male
Race: Black Mage
Sexual Orientation: He cares little for gender, though seems inclined towards femininity
Place of Birth: Dali
Current Location: Lurching down some train tracks somewhere
General Appearance: He can be likended to an Eagle in many respects. Prodominantly in his huge wings which just scream of power. Great commanding wings unspread around a slender body. Shimmering blue in colour, they are noticible from miles around as the sweep through the air. His coverts are a translucent turqoise blue, travelling in gradients down across his primaries as they become a deep azure. The striking feathers seem sharp and dangerous in their own right. The great wings lead down into a feathered ruff which is almost always tense and puffed up with sheer rage. This down itself is soft to the touch and warm.
This Ruff streches around his neck and the feathers hide much of his face. Not that there was much to see, anyway. What seems like a black orb is all that consists of his visage, asides from striking amber eyes which burn with white hot passion that stare out. Slender and slit-like, the eyes appear to be on fire, the middle a glowing white which disappaits into an amber. This white center acts as a pupil: always centered, it makes it easier to tell which direction he is looking.
His face is further framed by his steepled hat. The hat itself is not in good condition, yet is certainly not as bad as Ones. It stands erectly upwards, yet there is a deep gash down the center barely reapired with a few lazy sitches. The edges are ragged, torn and scruffy. It is clearly not in the best condition, yet he appears not to care. This hat seems to contrast the rest of his appearance.
He stands with good posture. This posture whispers of his dominating personality. His chest pushes forewards with his slightly arched back, his slender body coming in a triangular shape to form a slender waist before fanning out with slightly wider hips. This posture is emphasised greatly with his clothing.
His clothing appears well made, perhaps not as well as Twos, but certainly tailor made. He adorns a blue jacket which hugs tightly to his body, espically emphasising his waist. He has puffy shoulder pads to emphasises muscle and his jackets material hangs loosly down his arms before reaching a tight bound on his wrist before forming large puffed cuffs.
From his waist, his jacket widens and juts out in three seperate cuts. An apparant underjacket appears in a deepr shade of blue, great pads forming in multiple directions ringed in sharp hooks. They form in the shape of a Victorian dress. Beneath this, slender legs kick out, draped in white material which form stockings. Ribbons bind his feet, forming the illusion of shoes.
Image:
History: Light swirled through the darkness. Like reflections of water. Blurred Confusion. Tension... He flexed his wrist, flicking his talons. Then one emotion seemed to rise through him. Eyes widened and he lost control. His whole body swelled with emotion as he slashed out, grabbing one of the black mages who was working on him, throwing him violently across the room, tearing his head off and sending stuffing everywhere. Stuffing? No, no that wasn't enough. That wasn't what this emotion called for.
Forming something in his hands... Yes! Yes let it burn. Yellow dancing around red and orange. It felt so natural, so good. Mindless. No thought. Only emotion. Only rage. He saw the flash of blue and red. Wanted to destroy them so much. Slashing talons and red fire hissed and burned around the two. Yes... Slash his face... Red liquid... Only more anger. Anger and hate and rage. It was all he could feel. He didn't even feel pain or fear when the red and blue men overcame him. Forced him back down, put him back to sleep.
When Three was first created, he was far too violent. Far too merciless. Too angry. Zorn and Thorn could not command something which was mindless and so angry. They had wanted to drain all emotion from him, wanted him to be just as mindless as the other mages. Yet it was impossible. Something with so much magical power could not be stable without the beast controlling itself. So the jesters imbued him with Sentience. Gave to him every single emotion that any human could possibly feel. Yet he still chose to be angry. Chose to be full of rage. There was nothing the jesters could do, but at least he listened to them now.
From Dali he was brought back to Alexandria castle. The fresh creation was presented to Brahne, who seemed disintrested and dismissed him right away. he was then taken to one of the upper towers which was locked off to everyone else. He was left there with his brother and sister and would not see Zorn and Thorn for some time.
As they closed the door, he looked towards the other two with contempt. He showed no intrest in either of them, floating off to what would be his bed and staring out the window. Thinking. It was all he ever seemed to do. Constantly thinking..
Soon, the other two approched him. As he began to build relationships with them, he began to reject them even further. Two was almost as powerful as himself. His own capabilities and potential was never fully realized. When they dueled, she would always smite him. She was more experienced than he, and at first he simply could not catch up. He felt imferiour and useless, which only further fueled his undying rage.
His hatred for her blossomed when one night she defeated him in a single blow of Fira. The seeds within him began to grow, twisting through him as his anger only made him stronger. Slowly he began to turn the tables on her. Then one night he finalised his dominance. For the first time he felt the emotion Lust. This lust and this desire grew to become as strong as his feelings of rage. He watched two, watched as she seemed to tease him. Seeings signs in her very breath that she desired him. His rage only pulsated and grew. He took her violently after she beat him again in battle. He had come so close. So close... He wouldn't allow it.
He expressed the ultimate power of his domnance, forcing her to become his. He made sure One watched as he dominated her, made sure the other, weaker Waltz knew he was on top (pun not intended). When he was done with her, he thirsted to kill her, but held back the desire. Tossing her aside he returned to his bedroom, wbody tingling as he realized just what he was. He was almightly. Untamable. Indominatable. He was pleased.
He would continue to abuse the female waltz, putting her in his place as he began to smite her in duels. His power grew beyond hers, though not by much. He assumed that nothing would be able to defeat him if he could destroy two. Though he had been given far stronger spells that those that he used, he had not practised using them enough. He had become arrogant, seeing no use in wasting them when a Thundara would do. It took a lot of concentration to use the Aga spells and being impacient, he simply tossed them aside. His arrogance would be his final downfall later in his life.
Zorn and Thorn later spoke with him, giving him his duty. He was to protect the princess at all costs. Yet he was never to touch her. Never to harm her. Never to speak to her. Never to let her see him.
He accepted his task. Then he saw her. A desire overcame him. Far stronger than any feelings he had for that bitch who dared to call herself a waltz. He lusted deeply for that beautiful girl from his stoop on high. He protected her, taking responsibilty for her as he followered her. He slowly feel deeper and deeper into this uncontrollable lust. Seething through him it made him fall to his knees with desire. All he longed for was her. All he wished for was her. Wished to throw her against the ground and force his way inside before finally slitting that delicate little throat of hers.
He confided a little in One. He had always had a semi-good relationship with the elder Waltz. He was much, much weaker than himself and seemed to sometimes produce intelligent bits of conversation. Though he never revealed who it was, he confided that he "loved" someone. He discussed with One things he would never be able to discuss with anyone else. He took it as a sign of friendship, though there was no real liking there.
This one desire went on to dominate his life. Though he never touched her, never caused harm against her, he was simply waiting. Watching and waiting. Waiting for his chance when he could blame the deed upon someone else.
Then she ran away.
His brother and his sister fell.
The airship spun by. Zorn and Thorn asked if he was ready. A smile passed his features, totally unnotciable by anyone else in the world. He took to the air, his desires finally coming into realization.
Then... He was defeated. His mind reverted back to his old programming. He forgot all senses of logic, forgetting all loyalty. He flew into his death, further corrupting his mind.
Yet dawn would break his mind again. A stray, lindblum taveller found him imbedded in the train tracks, and stitched the malificent doll back together. Now with the added pleasure of revenge, he took to his rebellion. Turn against his masters and finally embracing freedom, though he was eternally locked within his one mission.
Retrieve the Princess.
Abilities/Skills: Fire
Blizzard
Thundra
Fira
Blizzara
Blizzaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Firaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Thundaga {Currently unusable in combat}
Freeze
Hit
How did you find us? You advertised on my site, Cries of the Planet :3
