(no subject)
Warning: There is mention of rape in the history, and in the third person example.
1. Player Information
Name (or internet handle): Terra
Current characters in Bete Noire: De Winchester
2. Character Information
Name: Flagg. It's not his real name, but the one he goes by most often.
Livejournal Username: between18and20
Fandom: Stephen King. Specifically the Dark Tower series, but things will be pulled from other works he's been in here and there that don't actively contradict The Dark Tower (The Stand, Hearts in Atlantis, Children of the Corn, etc)
Image: http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/104626408/30905970
3. Character Information II
Age/Appearance: He is semi-immortal in the range of more than 1500 years old, and can change his appearance easily. However, I am generally going with the almost attractive but has something unnerving about him. His face is too smooth, his grin is too wide, his teeth are too sharp. His mouth is always very red, with dark hair and pale skin, like some fucked up Snow White. There is something inhuman about him. However, as mentioned, he can also change his appearance at will, including form that are not human, so he looks how he wants, and how he needs to accomplish his goal.
History: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randal_Flagg
Personality:
Once upon a time, Randall Flagg was something close to a normal person. At 13, he set out to discover the big wonderful world, and his place in it.
And was raped on the road, at the start of the journey. It was not a good start to the next thousand years.
Randall Flagg had a lot of time to learn. And what he learned was that humans were generally awful. And not entirely bright. But fun. Damn fun. Along with gathering more and more knowledge of everything magical he could, including immortality, he observed. And played. He became a master of preying on humans, on their complicated emotions, social constructs, and behaviors. He is very much a puppet master, and sometimes he screws with people for a goal. And sometimes he does it just for the enjoyment of fucking with them.
This isn't to say he is some malevolent being emotionally above them. He can be just as petty, greedy, and caught up in his own games as the next person. His death is a direct correlation to his own cockiness, to his powerlust. He does think he is above humans, but at the same time knows that he should be one of them.
It also isn't to say he's an asshole. Well, at least not in interactions with him. If he was an asshole, he would never be able to get close enough to manipulate anyone. Who the hell would give someone like that enough time, enough openings to manipulate them? Face to face, Flagg is likable. Charming. He is good looking, funny, and well spoken. He is someone people want to follow, want to like. The strength of his manipulation, his trickster quality is that he finds what people want, and gives it to them. And by the time they realize what they've gotten into, they're screwed.
There is also an odd undercurrent of emotion in Flagg. Although he did not hesitate to use her as a playing piece in his plans, he did also truly love Gabrielle Deschain, and claims he is driven at times for want for her revenge. When called out on being a bastard, he react with hurt. However, he's not above taking those emotions, and using them as tool to manipulate other, as weapons when they throw off his opponent.
Sexual Preferences/Orientation: Sex is a tool. It's not entirely that he's asexual, but that sex is always more then sex. At the most casual it is to get rid of any distractions. And it's generally not casual. For example, he seduced Gabrielle Deschain to undermine her relationship with her husband and help along the collapse of Gilead. He understand how powerful a weapon sex can be, and uses it.
He is bi-sexual, but his sexual escapes are rarely driven by attraction. That isn't to say he doesn't enjoy it, and if given the option doesn't go toward what he finds more appealing, he just also isn't ruled by attraction.
Powers: Flagg is shown to be pretty much all powerful. Particularly in necromancy, prophecy, and influence over living things. He also can do multiple spells, knows poisons and remedies in and out, and travel where ever he want, whenever, including between multiple worlds. He's sorta a power catch all.
However playing all powerful is no fun. Clearly the last would be limited in Bete Noire to within the limits of the city (unless it was needed for a plot for him to have people leave, with mod permission) He is someone who I feel would actually willingly stay in the city, so being able to leave wouldn't phase him much. I am also working on the assumption that he can do a lot of things, but all of those things are limited in their scope.
For example, in The Gunslinger, Flagg brings a drug addict to life, but only for a short time, and clearly incompletely. However, he uses that short time to convince the small town he is a religious figure, a miracle maker, and turn the town against the protagonist. By the time the man's limited second run on life runs out, all the damage has been done, and there's no town to notice that his "gift" had a pretty short expiration date.
I also would only be using his power to help other people's plot along.
And also of note, he is only quasi-immortal. He'll never die if left to his own devices, but when push comes to shove, and he can't get out of the situation, he is killed fairly easy by physical means.
Reason for playing: So once upon a time I was on a forum, and someone posted "I'm sorry for voicing the unpopular opinion, but..." and proceeded to make a post that was both eloquent, entertaining, and...horrible in content. And their user name was Randall Flagg, and I was like "Wow, it would be so awesome to get that username, and just make a bunch of devil's advocate troll posts, and see if anyone ever realized what you were doing."
And then that turned to "It would be so awesome to play Randall Flagg in an rp, because he would do shit like that."
And that's how we got here. Pretty much, I want him to fuck with people. My aim with him is to just sorta offer him up as a trouble maker. "Would your CR be so much more awesome if that secret post you made to the person you're having a torrid affair with got printed out and tapes to your boyfriend's ones door? Randall Flagg, at your service." His goal, in life, is to bring down whatever's in place, and see what, if anything, he can pick out of the left overs. Or, just enjoy the ride as it all falls apart.
5. Samples
First-Person:
Well, well.
[The camera is lifted up, and a young man lifts a hand in greeting, flash a quick grin. It’s too wide, but gone so fast that it’s hard to pin point what was entirely off about it.]
I can’t say I’m not a new visitor to these parts. Bete Noire, yes?
Anyone care to give me the tour? I’ve heard a lot about your…lovely little town, but haven’t looked around much myself. Any advice for a weary traveler?
Third-Person:
He wasn’t use to having his powers limited. At all. Not by anything outside of his control.
It wasn’t a feeling he liked. But it was, apparently, one he would have to deal with for the time being.
And really, moments ago he had been listening to the not so pleasant sounds of his own limbs being eaten by that seven legged abomination as he was forced to help.
So really, he could deal with a hopefully temporary cap on his powers, if it saved him from the clearing at the end of the path. It was a sacrifice he really didn’t even need to dwell too much on.
This city...didn’t barely need his help to collapse. He wasn’t actually sure how it was still standing, still in such good shape. The air wafted with everything twisted here, it was like heat waves over a highway. He smiled, starting to wander his way along blocks of city, absorbing the decay, they ruin that permeated this place.
It was almost beautiful in it’s ruin. He wonder what kept it all running. This world had clearly moved on, but this almost had the feel of a normal city. A functioning one. Almost.
Why, he felt like he was at home.
This was exciting.
Third-Person #2:
((OOC-Rape warning.))
She was a sweet, pretty young thing.
She was a sweet, pretty young thing who’s father was about to negotiate a well intention peace with the village across the river. The river was rich with fish, and had of course become a sore spot between the two communities, but the village leader had been working hard to bridge the gap between the two.
And he just couldn’t have that.
He made his presence well know in the tavern that night, as the son of the rival village leader. That was what the patrons would remember him as, even if they could never quiet describe him. Tensions were high enough, the details wouldn’t really matter.
He had introduced himself to her and her father, and then proceeded to make merry. And make an ass of himself. Loudly.
And he watched for her to move away from her father’s watchful eye. It happened sooner then he hoped for. He made himself dim, slipping out and snatching the girl easily. She didn’t put up much of a fight, which was just about what he expected.
He took her to the river bank, and by the time they arrived she had given up even trying to struggle. It took out some of the fun, with her the equivalent of a stunned rabbit, but there was still enjoyment to be had. Some chores were more fun then others.
He made quick work of what she wore, and laid her out. She made modest effort to cover herself, but he moved her hands, and cooed sweet nothings into her ear, and she was timid and limp once again.
She was soft, and pleasant, and he took pleasure in her easily enough, before stretching out next to her and pulling her trembling body close. One hand soothed her hair as her murmured comfort into the long golden lock. The other reached behind her, plucking a handful of the thick, flexible reeds behind her.
She flinched as he moved suddenly, twisting the reeds tight around her slim, pale neck. Her hands fluttered at his, as she put up the fight she’d been missing all night, but it was too little, too late. Not that there ever would have been enough, at any point in time.
Soon enough even that spark was gone. All the sparks in her were gone. He stood, dressing, and surveyed his work with a nod, and a grin. He would love to move her closer to the river, would love how fitting it would be, but the current was strong, and he couldn’t risk it sweeping her away. So the riverbank would have to do.
It’d be enough.
1. Player Information
Name (or internet handle): Terra
Current characters in Bete Noire: De Winchester
2. Character Information
Name: Flagg. It's not his real name, but the one he goes by most often.
Livejournal Username: between18and20
Fandom: Stephen King. Specifically the Dark Tower series, but things will be pulled from other works he's been in here and there that don't actively contradict The Dark Tower (The Stand, Hearts in Atlantis, Children of the Corn, etc)
Image: http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/104626408/30905970
3. Character Information II
Age/Appearance: He is semi-immortal in the range of more than 1500 years old, and can change his appearance easily. However, I am generally going with the almost attractive but has something unnerving about him. His face is too smooth, his grin is too wide, his teeth are too sharp. His mouth is always very red, with dark hair and pale skin, like some fucked up Snow White. There is something inhuman about him. However, as mentioned, he can also change his appearance at will, including form that are not human, so he looks how he wants, and how he needs to accomplish his goal.
History: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randal_Flagg
Personality:
Once upon a time, Randall Flagg was something close to a normal person. At 13, he set out to discover the big wonderful world, and his place in it.
And was raped on the road, at the start of the journey. It was not a good start to the next thousand years.
Randall Flagg had a lot of time to learn. And what he learned was that humans were generally awful. And not entirely bright. But fun. Damn fun. Along with gathering more and more knowledge of everything magical he could, including immortality, he observed. And played. He became a master of preying on humans, on their complicated emotions, social constructs, and behaviors. He is very much a puppet master, and sometimes he screws with people for a goal. And sometimes he does it just for the enjoyment of fucking with them.
This isn't to say he is some malevolent being emotionally above them. He can be just as petty, greedy, and caught up in his own games as the next person. His death is a direct correlation to his own cockiness, to his powerlust. He does think he is above humans, but at the same time knows that he should be one of them.
It also isn't to say he's an asshole. Well, at least not in interactions with him. If he was an asshole, he would never be able to get close enough to manipulate anyone. Who the hell would give someone like that enough time, enough openings to manipulate them? Face to face, Flagg is likable. Charming. He is good looking, funny, and well spoken. He is someone people want to follow, want to like. The strength of his manipulation, his trickster quality is that he finds what people want, and gives it to them. And by the time they realize what they've gotten into, they're screwed.
There is also an odd undercurrent of emotion in Flagg. Although he did not hesitate to use her as a playing piece in his plans, he did also truly love Gabrielle Deschain, and claims he is driven at times for want for her revenge. When called out on being a bastard, he react with hurt. However, he's not above taking those emotions, and using them as tool to manipulate other, as weapons when they throw off his opponent.
Sexual Preferences/Orientation: Sex is a tool. It's not entirely that he's asexual, but that sex is always more then sex. At the most casual it is to get rid of any distractions. And it's generally not casual. For example, he seduced Gabrielle Deschain to undermine her relationship with her husband and help along the collapse of Gilead. He understand how powerful a weapon sex can be, and uses it.
He is bi-sexual, but his sexual escapes are rarely driven by attraction. That isn't to say he doesn't enjoy it, and if given the option doesn't go toward what he finds more appealing, he just also isn't ruled by attraction.
Powers: Flagg is shown to be pretty much all powerful. Particularly in necromancy, prophecy, and influence over living things. He also can do multiple spells, knows poisons and remedies in and out, and travel where ever he want, whenever, including between multiple worlds. He's sorta a power catch all.
However playing all powerful is no fun. Clearly the last would be limited in Bete Noire to within the limits of the city (unless it was needed for a plot for him to have people leave, with mod permission) He is someone who I feel would actually willingly stay in the city, so being able to leave wouldn't phase him much. I am also working on the assumption that he can do a lot of things, but all of those things are limited in their scope.
For example, in The Gunslinger, Flagg brings a drug addict to life, but only for a short time, and clearly incompletely. However, he uses that short time to convince the small town he is a religious figure, a miracle maker, and turn the town against the protagonist. By the time the man's limited second run on life runs out, all the damage has been done, and there's no town to notice that his "gift" had a pretty short expiration date.
I also would only be using his power to help other people's plot along.
And also of note, he is only quasi-immortal. He'll never die if left to his own devices, but when push comes to shove, and he can't get out of the situation, he is killed fairly easy by physical means.
Reason for playing: So once upon a time I was on a forum, and someone posted "I'm sorry for voicing the unpopular opinion, but..." and proceeded to make a post that was both eloquent, entertaining, and...horrible in content. And their user name was Randall Flagg, and I was like "Wow, it would be so awesome to get that username, and just make a bunch of devil's advocate troll posts, and see if anyone ever realized what you were doing."
And then that turned to "It would be so awesome to play Randall Flagg in an rp, because he would do shit like that."
And that's how we got here. Pretty much, I want him to fuck with people. My aim with him is to just sorta offer him up as a trouble maker. "Would your CR be so much more awesome if that secret post you made to the person you're having a torrid affair with got printed out and tapes to your boyfriend's ones door? Randall Flagg, at your service." His goal, in life, is to bring down whatever's in place, and see what, if anything, he can pick out of the left overs. Or, just enjoy the ride as it all falls apart.
5. Samples
First-Person:
Well, well.
[The camera is lifted up, and a young man lifts a hand in greeting, flash a quick grin. It’s too wide, but gone so fast that it’s hard to pin point what was entirely off about it.]
I can’t say I’m not a new visitor to these parts. Bete Noire, yes?
Anyone care to give me the tour? I’ve heard a lot about your…lovely little town, but haven’t looked around much myself. Any advice for a weary traveler?
Third-Person:
He wasn’t use to having his powers limited. At all. Not by anything outside of his control.
It wasn’t a feeling he liked. But it was, apparently, one he would have to deal with for the time being.
And really, moments ago he had been listening to the not so pleasant sounds of his own limbs being eaten by that seven legged abomination as he was forced to help.
So really, he could deal with a hopefully temporary cap on his powers, if it saved him from the clearing at the end of the path. It was a sacrifice he really didn’t even need to dwell too much on.
This city...didn’t barely need his help to collapse. He wasn’t actually sure how it was still standing, still in such good shape. The air wafted with everything twisted here, it was like heat waves over a highway. He smiled, starting to wander his way along blocks of city, absorbing the decay, they ruin that permeated this place.
It was almost beautiful in it’s ruin. He wonder what kept it all running. This world had clearly moved on, but this almost had the feel of a normal city. A functioning one. Almost.
Why, he felt like he was at home.
This was exciting.
Third-Person #2:
((OOC-Rape warning.))
She was a sweet, pretty young thing.
She was a sweet, pretty young thing who’s father was about to negotiate a well intention peace with the village across the river. The river was rich with fish, and had of course become a sore spot between the two communities, but the village leader had been working hard to bridge the gap between the two.
And he just couldn’t have that.
He made his presence well know in the tavern that night, as the son of the rival village leader. That was what the patrons would remember him as, even if they could never quiet describe him. Tensions were high enough, the details wouldn’t really matter.
He had introduced himself to her and her father, and then proceeded to make merry. And make an ass of himself. Loudly.
And he watched for her to move away from her father’s watchful eye. It happened sooner then he hoped for. He made himself dim, slipping out and snatching the girl easily. She didn’t put up much of a fight, which was just about what he expected.
He took her to the river bank, and by the time they arrived she had given up even trying to struggle. It took out some of the fun, with her the equivalent of a stunned rabbit, but there was still enjoyment to be had. Some chores were more fun then others.
He made quick work of what she wore, and laid her out. She made modest effort to cover herself, but he moved her hands, and cooed sweet nothings into her ear, and she was timid and limp once again.
She was soft, and pleasant, and he took pleasure in her easily enough, before stretching out next to her and pulling her trembling body close. One hand soothed her hair as her murmured comfort into the long golden lock. The other reached behind her, plucking a handful of the thick, flexible reeds behind her.
She flinched as he moved suddenly, twisting the reeds tight around her slim, pale neck. Her hands fluttered at his, as she put up the fight she’d been missing all night, but it was too little, too late. Not that there ever would have been enough, at any point in time.
Soon enough even that spark was gone. All the sparks in her were gone. He stood, dressing, and surveyed his work with a nod, and a grin. He would love to move her closer to the river, would love how fitting it would be, but the current was strong, and he couldn’t risk it sweeping her away. So the riverbank would have to do.
It’d be enough.