Profile
Out of Character Information
player name: Merry
player contact: halflingmerry [at] hotmail [dot] com
where did you find us? Recommended by longtime RPbuddy eisdamme !
are you 16 years of age or older?: Yes
In Character Information
character name: Spike / Wm. the B. [William the Bloody]
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel
Timeline: Post-Angel S5 (so, hapless viewers, this is your SPOILER ALERT)
character's age: Born 1850-something. He doesn't try to remember. Do you measure after death and ghostitude-?
powers, skills, pets and equipment: Un-aging immortal: Beat you to it. Superhuman agility, stamina, speed, reflexes, healing, strength...: Yup, got 'em. Smokingly sexy with cheekbones you could cut your subclavian on: -Ah, sorry, guess the Mist doesn't do that.
Actually a bit better off as a vampire in this dimension (or what) than the original: the Mist may burn but sunlight doesn't. Not thanking Dru for the heightened senses right now. But y'know, possibly still better than L.A.
(Note: Whedonverse definition of a vampire. Quoth the Spike t-shirt: "I don't bloody sparkle.")
Full powers here
canon history: Born London 185?, originally William Stollar Pratt. He'd failed to distinguish himself as a poet, or much of anything, until he was sired by Drusilla in 1880. He then proceeded to distinguish himself in every unsavory way imaginable. He had been a good man, and even as a bad vampire, he was an anomaly: retaining certain human tenets (like romantic love) that most vampires shed, though inevitably twisted by lack of a soul. In 2002, he also fixed that. Ensoulled Spike died as a champion, sacrificing himself to save the world in battle alongside the Slayer-only (to his outrage) to be rudely resurrected as a ghost in Los Angeles in 2003. (Full plot details here.) Eventually recorporealized, he was all set to die as a champion again, if not saving the world then at least making a point; when the entirety of L.A., along with demon hordes and Spike's allies, were sent to a Hell dimension. Spike fell through a crack and woke up this side of the Gate.
personality: Don't give a piss about 'redemption'. The world doesn't work that way. Don't pretend to know how the world does work, but have some pretty solid ideas on how it doesn't. We are what we are, become something different, and get on with it. Make the best of it. However the current you thinks to define "best". Do wrong, learn better.
The more he has to angst about, the flippanter he'll get. "Not given to introspection" is an understatement to avoid introspection. It's also possible that Spike just doesn't think about such things anyone else in his situation would think about. (Whatever situation it is at the time.) Both foolish and particularly good at calling out fools. He has an astonishing blunt insightfulness: lacking sophisticated smarts, is perhaps better at getting to basic truths. The once-squashed-never-killed poetic streak probably helps.
For the longest time, a hundred years at least, much of his behavior was dictated by his determination to contrast/contradict Angel's. (Also see: refusal to angst.) Pretty mellow nowadays-relatively speaking. I.e. Doesn't try so hard to make things happen; is pretty resigned to the knowledge that stuff'll happen no matter what. And he'll usually wind up in the middle of it, without having to want or cause it.
Despite (maybe owed to) all this personal growth, he's become unprecedentedly rudderless. Doesn't try to glorify nor throttle life anymore, but not because he particularly wants to die. Nor does he have once-familiar ambitions like to wreak havoc, be or kill the biggest bad, win the girl, or publish a poem. He's still capable of enjoying himself as moments arise, but he doesn't seek them… or anything. He just drifts around. It's really a rather relaxed way to be. He may also realize that it's also a more empty way to be, should a new goal/direction/purpose arise… [ OOC: ::cough:: Dawn? ]
Anything else?
I sit in this bloody boring room
As somewhere else, L.A. goes "foom"
No fire but smoke:
Fog fit to choke
-Right homey, bloke-
Would give a poke
But hard to joke
When Hell's bespoke
OK?
If sans a fair gold Slayer's hips,
Still… not bad for an apocalypse.