a-a-app post.
Character: Dist the Reaper Rose
Series: Tales of the Abyss
Age: 35
Job: Vengeance Counselor
Canon: Tales of the Abyss is the heartwarming story of a boy and his [SPOILER] and their merry yet spoilery adventures that would take more than this minuscule canon section to cover! Dist the Reaper -- or "Dist the Rose" as he prefers to be called -- is one of the six God Generals, the primary antagonist's bitch boys (and girls!) in the game. Although the God Generals have their own allegiances and plans, Dist could care less about them. He has only one secret goal in mind, and remains loyal to that alone in his own Sekrit Villain Way - though really, he seems to only be stalking the main party, particularly his old associate, Jade.
Dist himself can best be described as some sort of flamboyant mad genius, as well as a fifteen year-old boy stuck in a thirty-five year-old's body. While incredibly intelligent and capable of building all sorts of machines, Dist is also prone to being extremely emotional, and by "emotional," we mean "prone to bursting into hissy-fits at the drop of a hat." Dist's mood swings dramatically -- one minute, he can be pleased, and the next minute, he'll be going off about something or other, raving like a lunatic. The words "over the top" only begin to scratch the surface when it comes to Dist.
Despite all this, Dist never seems to fight himself. In fact, he prefers to watch his mad scientist robot minions fight his battles while he sits in his floating armchair and does what he does best: evil monologuing, complete with the token sinister laughter.
Sample Entry:
Just who do those ignorant apes think they are?! Issuing a ticket to me? For suspicious activity in an "unmarked white armchair"?! It's mauve, you buffoons!!
Does anyone in this encampment have their head firmly screwed to their shoulders?! Such idiocy from the natives is repulsive; I can certainly see why the esteemed Madam Sayre required my supreme expertise on an all-important topic posthaste. Mmh, yes, where are my manners, though? Campers!! Be awed by the awesome presence of yours truly, the brand new, highly regarded and well-renowned vengeance counselor, Dist the Rose. ... Although I must say, the title they gave me for this position is so brutish. "Vengeance counselor"? Really, now. I find "retribution advisor" to be much more pleasing to the ears and much less barbaric, don't you agree?
Now then! Let's get to the subject at hand, shall we? Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold. Of course, everyone knows that this is a patented falsehood. Payback is truly delightful, particularly when your method of exacting your righteous retribution is creative and ... resourceful. You see, I've taken a moment to familiarize myself with your culture -- all to make the method of retribution more effective. Your culture's "internet"? Fascinating, and quite useful for our purposes. And there is a far more diabolical plot one can initiate just from their e-mail inbox. Yes, that's right: cat macro spam. Scores and scores of e-mails with their attachments adding megabyte after megabyte to their load time, all those adorable little faces staring and judging as the one who wronged you can do nothing but look on in horror--! Now, envision the despair on their face when they realize the undeniable truth -- that, yes, ceiling cat is watching them! Muahahahahahahaha!!
... But of course, carrying out this sort of scheme can be tiresome, particularly if said person employs that traitorous Gmail and its spiteful Spam Blocker, and that is where one skilled at seeking divine retribution hires minions for these sorts of things. Geniuses such as myself can easily create some, but when in doubt, I suppose the likes of you could resort to those dwelling around here. Take Thulian the Graceful Dionaea for example, here. My dearest Thulian was once known in his primitive tongue as Glarghabanglebraiiins, but I've managed to save him from his pathetic, undead existence. Now, my blossoming Dionaea is capable of much greater things, such as operating this custom-made shoulder-launched M-160. ♥ Thulian, if you would? A demonstr--
Thulian!! Where are you going with that rocket launch-- d-don't ignore me! Thulian, you return here at once when I'm speaking with--
-- o-on second thought, forget I said anything! You can ignore me! Just this once! I knew giving him weaponry was a miscalculation. D-Don't think you've heard the last of me-!!
[voting went here. 91.5%, what!]
Series: Tales of the Abyss
Age: 35
Job: Vengeance Counselor
Canon: Tales of the Abyss is the heartwarming story of a boy and his [SPOILER] and their merry yet spoilery adventures that would take more than this minuscule canon section to cover! Dist the Reaper -- or "Dist the Rose" as he prefers to be called -- is one of the six God Generals, the primary antagonist's bitch boys (and girls!) in the game. Although the God Generals have their own allegiances and plans, Dist could care less about them. He has only one secret goal in mind, and remains loyal to that alone in his own Sekrit Villain Way - though really, he seems to only be stalking the main party, particularly his old associate, Jade.
Dist himself can best be described as some sort of flamboyant mad genius, as well as a fifteen year-old boy stuck in a thirty-five year-old's body. While incredibly intelligent and capable of building all sorts of machines, Dist is also prone to being extremely emotional, and by "emotional," we mean "prone to bursting into hissy-fits at the drop of a hat." Dist's mood swings dramatically -- one minute, he can be pleased, and the next minute, he'll be going off about something or other, raving like a lunatic. The words "over the top" only begin to scratch the surface when it comes to Dist.
Despite all this, Dist never seems to fight himself. In fact, he prefers to watch his mad scientist robot minions fight his battles while he sits in his floating armchair and does what he does best: evil monologuing, complete with the token sinister laughter.
Sample Entry:
Just who do those ignorant apes think they are?! Issuing a ticket to me? For suspicious activity in an "unmarked white armchair"?! It's mauve, you buffoons!!
Does anyone in this encampment have their head firmly screwed to their shoulders?! Such idiocy from the natives is repulsive; I can certainly see why the esteemed Madam Sayre required my supreme expertise on an all-important topic posthaste. Mmh, yes, where are my manners, though? Campers!! Be awed by the awesome presence of yours truly, the brand new, highly regarded and well-renowned vengeance counselor, Dist the Rose. ... Although I must say, the title they gave me for this position is so brutish. "Vengeance counselor"? Really, now. I find "retribution advisor" to be much more pleasing to the ears and much less barbaric, don't you agree?
Now then! Let's get to the subject at hand, shall we? Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold. Of course, everyone knows that this is a patented falsehood. Payback is truly delightful, particularly when your method of exacting your righteous retribution is creative and ... resourceful. You see, I've taken a moment to familiarize myself with your culture -- all to make the method of retribution more effective. Your culture's "internet"? Fascinating, and quite useful for our purposes. And there is a far more diabolical plot one can initiate just from their e-mail inbox. Yes, that's right: cat macro spam. Scores and scores of e-mails with their attachments adding megabyte after megabyte to their load time, all those adorable little faces staring and judging as the one who wronged you can do nothing but look on in horror--! Now, envision the despair on their face when they realize the undeniable truth -- that, yes, ceiling cat is watching them! Muahahahahahahaha!!
... But of course, carrying out this sort of scheme can be tiresome, particularly if said person employs that traitorous Gmail and its spiteful Spam Blocker, and that is where one skilled at seeking divine retribution hires minions for these sorts of things. Geniuses such as myself can easily create some, but when in doubt, I suppose the likes of you could resort to those dwelling around here. Take Thulian the Graceful Dionaea for example, here. My dearest Thulian was once known in his primitive tongue as Glarghabanglebraiiins, but I've managed to save him from his pathetic, undead existence. Now, my blossoming Dionaea is capable of much greater things, such as operating this custom-made shoulder-launched M-160. ♥ Thulian, if you would? A demonstr--
Thulian!! Where are you going with that rocket launch-- d-don't ignore me! Thulian, you return here at once when I'm speaking with--
-- o-on second thought, forget I said anything! You can ignore me! Just this once! I knew giving him weaponry was a miscalculation. D-Don't think you've heard the last of me-!!
[voting went here. 91.5%, what!]