believe, no i can't believe how little all this means to me
► name. Michael
► species. God.
► gender. Male.
► age. Unknown. Physically mid-twenties.
► history. There once was a bunch of scientists who wanted to become Gods, in their greed for power they managed to pull off the impossible, they trapped a god, robbing him of his power to fight back. They did unspeakable things to this god, in their attempt to become one themselves. For over a century they labored over their task, poking and prodding the god, preforming test after test on him ignoring as he swore vengeance and blood. One day he would be free and they would pay for what they did to him. Eventually the scientists realized that they could not achieve what they wanted through science, they realized they had to delve into the magical arts.
And they did.
Even then they struggled to make progress on their goal, they maniacal dream, but that would not persuade them. Neither would the screams of rage from the god they locked below them, so after another century this group poked and prodded the caged beast who had never given up struggling to get free, to get his powers back. Until they decided, yet again, to try something else.
This is when Michael was brought into the picture. He was a unlucky kid, abandon as a child, he lived on the streets and was forced to steel to survive. He was pretty good at it too and often stole more than he should've, only to feed the other orphans and street kids, this naturally got him into a lot of trouble and would sometimes have him thrown away for two or so weeks. He never did learn his lesson, eventually it got to the point that the authorities knew him well, often cracking jokes with him before tossing him away again for another two weeks.
One day, after his two week sentence, Michael wasn't able to go back to the dirty little street he called home, or back to the few friends he actually hand (friends that had become like family). That day he was taken away by some men he didn't recognize, that day he watched as the guards he almost called friends practically jumped with joy at the size of money they had been given for him. This one little street kid. No one would miss him, he was just a brat who stole stuff from the local merchants. It wasn't like he had any family to go back to.
It was on that day Michael's heart began to die.
They never told him what they wanted, or what they were going to do, when he asked he was hit and thrown into a cell in the dark, next to some guy who screamed and raged every time they came down to the cells. They kept him healthy, because he was their precious ticket to Godhood, their key to the immorality they have been seeking for two hundred years. So many had died (from either accidents or old age) for this, they refused to give up now. They poked and prodded him like the did the god, only they enhanced him, gave him abilities no normal human being should have. The process was horrible, Michael screamed until his throat was red and raw every time they "made him better". They managed to dramatically boost his regenerative abilities, making it possible for him to reattach his own limbs and maybe even regrow one given the right amount of time. They enhanced his speed, strength, endurance, anything and everything they could get away with, to levels far beyond the average human being.
And Michael started enjoying the time he spent in that cell, next to the screaming man, vowing to watch as their captors choke on their own blood. It gave him time to think of something other than the pain, those screams gave him the hope to continue on. He believed that the man will get out, he hoped with all of his heart that he would break free and exact the revenge and coat this wretched place with blood.
He spent fifteen long years there, his days were full of tests and more tests, his nights full of screams and darkness. Somewhere along the lines he began talking to the man in the cell next to him, at first he would be told to shut up, the man wasn't the most friendliest of people, but Michael didn't back down. He had nothing else to do. It took him a while to wear him down, but eventually he managed to find an ally in the man. Not a friend, he didn't believe in friends anymore, an ally. He asked Michael if he wanted revenge, if he wanted to see this place burn and their captors drown in their own blood. He said yes, he wanted that more than anything.
The man laughed and told him that he would get his wish, no matter how long it took.
And he was right. On what would have been Michael's twenty fifth birthday they came for him again, dragging him through the hallways blind folded, to one of the many white rooms of the facility. He figured it was another test, another day full of his nerves screaming in pain. He was wrong, at least about the first part. There was pain, blinding hot pain that lasted for what felt like forever, Michael screamed like he never screamed before, even after they had finished whatever they had done and returned him to his cell he screamed.
And then he stopped.
For two weeks he was silent and unresponsive, the scientists began to worry their gamble would not pay off, what if it didn't work? What if they ruined everything? What if their little street rat never wakes up? Much to their delight he did. The first thing he notices is that it was quiet in his dark cell, there was supposed to be noise, some sort of noise but he wasn't sure what. There was only a whisper, in the back of his head, he couldn't make it out at first, but it was always there.
Then a week full of tests and questions he hadn't the answers for later something happened, he wasn't really sure what happened, only something did. Something big. The facility hallways ran red, just like someone promised. They didn't realize what they did, not until it was too late and he laughed and laughed and laughed as his prison collapsed around him, burning and bleeding until finally exploding, reducing the entire place to rubble and ash.
Michael was free, but he wasn't really Michael anymore. He wasn't sure who he was, so he took the name and began to wander. For five hundred years he wandered, becoming something of a legend, encountering trouble at every turn, even participating in a few wars along the way. He never made friends, not really, he made allies and watched them wither and die, then moving on. Eventually he stopped caring, about them dying, about his odd inability to die, he continued on, looking for the thing he lost.
And with his newest band of misfits he thinks he'll finally find it. Maybe.
► personality. Short version: He's a dick and he doesn't know who he is. He has a thing for violence, war and conflict on a whole. He does have a nice streak somewhere if you look hard enough, but chance are that you aren't gonna find it. He's a little unhinged, because he hears voices in his head... but he doesn't know it is his own voice. Identity issues all up in here. He's a beautiful combination of sadistic and masochistic, though a hundred times more sadistic if you ever get him in battle. He has a lot of anger issues and is most likely gonna throw you off a rooftop for shits and giggles. He's also lazy, demanding and incredibly impatient. He's also got family issues he isn't actually aware about, he gets attached easily and will be seriously fucking pissed and hurt if you abandon him. Not that he cares, nope.
He's practically a confused, angry, frustrated and needy god who doesn't understand who exactly he is and why he can't remember.
► weapons & abilities. His strength, speed, endurance, agility so on and so forth have all been enhanced to levels far beyond the average human being. He's also been given a crazy regeneration ability that would allow him to reattach his own arm or even regrow it if he should choose (but that is a very painful process and he'd have to set his previous limb on fire so no one can have it).
That aside, he's actually Ares the God of War, something he doesn't known and frustrates him constantly, so he has a whole bunch of delicious powers in his arsenal that he has no idea are even there. Immortality is one, he cannot die or be killed and the aging of Michael's body has been pretty much halted. He can teleport, time travel (though this power he'll never get access to in Accord), heal people, bring them back to life, fling around such things are fireballs and lightning, he also has powerful telekinetic abilities. He can invoke feelings of violence and the strong desire to fight with his presence, if he wants to. He is great swordsman and very very skilled in battle, one of the few things that bleeds through often. And he is also a very skilled manipulator and master strategist. And he can lie through his teeth as easily as he breathes.
Michael doesn't realize it but he practically crackles with power, lots and lots of power that others who can sense such things will be able to notice rather easily. He can also sense other people whether they have any sort of power or not, enabling him to find then with ease. He does this without even realizing it and never really questions it.
He is kinda dog whisperer... sorta, he has an affinity with them.
► notes. GOD OF WAR GOD OF WAR GOD OF WAR, in case you didn't get it. He's also got a tattoo on his back that faintly gives off a odd feeling, it is the thing that binds him to his current body. As far as anyone knows there is no way to remove it, any and all attempts end up hurting Michael a lot.
► species. God.
► gender. Male.
► age. Unknown. Physically mid-twenties.
► history. There once was a bunch of scientists who wanted to become Gods, in their greed for power they managed to pull off the impossible, they trapped a god, robbing him of his power to fight back. They did unspeakable things to this god, in their attempt to become one themselves. For over a century they labored over their task, poking and prodding the god, preforming test after test on him ignoring as he swore vengeance and blood. One day he would be free and they would pay for what they did to him. Eventually the scientists realized that they could not achieve what they wanted through science, they realized they had to delve into the magical arts.
And they did.
Even then they struggled to make progress on their goal, they maniacal dream, but that would not persuade them. Neither would the screams of rage from the god they locked below them, so after another century this group poked and prodded the caged beast who had never given up struggling to get free, to get his powers back. Until they decided, yet again, to try something else.
This is when Michael was brought into the picture. He was a unlucky kid, abandon as a child, he lived on the streets and was forced to steel to survive. He was pretty good at it too and often stole more than he should've, only to feed the other orphans and street kids, this naturally got him into a lot of trouble and would sometimes have him thrown away for two or so weeks. He never did learn his lesson, eventually it got to the point that the authorities knew him well, often cracking jokes with him before tossing him away again for another two weeks.
One day, after his two week sentence, Michael wasn't able to go back to the dirty little street he called home, or back to the few friends he actually hand (friends that had become like family). That day he was taken away by some men he didn't recognize, that day he watched as the guards he almost called friends practically jumped with joy at the size of money they had been given for him. This one little street kid. No one would miss him, he was just a brat who stole stuff from the local merchants. It wasn't like he had any family to go back to.
It was on that day Michael's heart began to die.
They never told him what they wanted, or what they were going to do, when he asked he was hit and thrown into a cell in the dark, next to some guy who screamed and raged every time they came down to the cells. They kept him healthy, because he was their precious ticket to Godhood, their key to the immorality they have been seeking for two hundred years. So many had died (from either accidents or old age) for this, they refused to give up now. They poked and prodded him like the did the god, only they enhanced him, gave him abilities no normal human being should have. The process was horrible, Michael screamed until his throat was red and raw every time they "made him better". They managed to dramatically boost his regenerative abilities, making it possible for him to reattach his own limbs and maybe even regrow one given the right amount of time. They enhanced his speed, strength, endurance, anything and everything they could get away with, to levels far beyond the average human being.
And Michael started enjoying the time he spent in that cell, next to the screaming man, vowing to watch as their captors choke on their own blood. It gave him time to think of something other than the pain, those screams gave him the hope to continue on. He believed that the man will get out, he hoped with all of his heart that he would break free and exact the revenge and coat this wretched place with blood.
He spent fifteen long years there, his days were full of tests and more tests, his nights full of screams and darkness. Somewhere along the lines he began talking to the man in the cell next to him, at first he would be told to shut up, the man wasn't the most friendliest of people, but Michael didn't back down. He had nothing else to do. It took him a while to wear him down, but eventually he managed to find an ally in the man. Not a friend, he didn't believe in friends anymore, an ally. He asked Michael if he wanted revenge, if he wanted to see this place burn and their captors drown in their own blood. He said yes, he wanted that more than anything.
The man laughed and told him that he would get his wish, no matter how long it took.
And he was right. On what would have been Michael's twenty fifth birthday they came for him again, dragging him through the hallways blind folded, to one of the many white rooms of the facility. He figured it was another test, another day full of his nerves screaming in pain. He was wrong, at least about the first part. There was pain, blinding hot pain that lasted for what felt like forever, Michael screamed like he never screamed before, even after they had finished whatever they had done and returned him to his cell he screamed.
And then he stopped.
For two weeks he was silent and unresponsive, the scientists began to worry their gamble would not pay off, what if it didn't work? What if they ruined everything? What if their little street rat never wakes up? Much to their delight he did. The first thing he notices is that it was quiet in his dark cell, there was supposed to be noise, some sort of noise but he wasn't sure what. There was only a whisper, in the back of his head, he couldn't make it out at first, but it was always there.
Then a week full of tests and questions he hadn't the answers for later something happened, he wasn't really sure what happened, only something did. Something big. The facility hallways ran red, just like someone promised. They didn't realize what they did, not until it was too late and he laughed and laughed and laughed as his prison collapsed around him, burning and bleeding until finally exploding, reducing the entire place to rubble and ash.
Michael was free, but he wasn't really Michael anymore. He wasn't sure who he was, so he took the name and began to wander. For five hundred years he wandered, becoming something of a legend, encountering trouble at every turn, even participating in a few wars along the way. He never made friends, not really, he made allies and watched them wither and die, then moving on. Eventually he stopped caring, about them dying, about his odd inability to die, he continued on, looking for the thing he lost.
And with his newest band of misfits he thinks he'll finally find it. Maybe.
► personality. Short version: He's a dick and he doesn't know who he is. He has a thing for violence, war and conflict on a whole. He does have a nice streak somewhere if you look hard enough, but chance are that you aren't gonna find it. He's a little unhinged, because he hears voices in his head... but he doesn't know it is his own voice. Identity issues all up in here. He's a beautiful combination of sadistic and masochistic, though a hundred times more sadistic if you ever get him in battle. He has a lot of anger issues and is most likely gonna throw you off a rooftop for shits and giggles. He's also lazy, demanding and incredibly impatient. He's also got family issues he isn't actually aware about, he gets attached easily and will be seriously fucking pissed and hurt if you abandon him. Not that he cares, nope.
He's practically a confused, angry, frustrated and needy god who doesn't understand who exactly he is and why he can't remember.
► weapons & abilities. His strength, speed, endurance, agility so on and so forth have all been enhanced to levels far beyond the average human being. He's also been given a crazy regeneration ability that would allow him to reattach his own arm or even regrow it if he should choose (but that is a very painful process and he'd have to set his previous limb on fire so no one can have it).
That aside, he's actually Ares the God of War, something he doesn't known and frustrates him constantly, so he has a whole bunch of delicious powers in his arsenal that he has no idea are even there. Immortality is one, he cannot die or be killed and the aging of Michael's body has been pretty much halted. He can teleport, time travel (though this power he'll never get access to in Accord), heal people, bring them back to life, fling around such things are fireballs and lightning, he also has powerful telekinetic abilities. He can invoke feelings of violence and the strong desire to fight with his presence, if he wants to. He is great swordsman and very very skilled in battle, one of the few things that bleeds through often. And he is also a very skilled manipulator and master strategist. And he can lie through his teeth as easily as he breathes.
Michael doesn't realize it but he practically crackles with power, lots and lots of power that others who can sense such things will be able to notice rather easily. He can also sense other people whether they have any sort of power or not, enabling him to find then with ease. He does this without even realizing it and never really questions it.
He is kinda dog whisperer... sorta, he has an affinity with them.
► notes. GOD OF WAR GOD OF WAR GOD OF WAR, in case you didn't get it. He's also got a tattoo on his back that faintly gives off a odd feeling, it is the thing that binds him to his current body. As far as anyone knows there is no way to remove it, any and all attempts end up hurting Michael a lot.