A dark, disturbed character (Heartcage)
He has never seen use, but it would probably prove interesting if he did. As abstract as it may sound, he may be best suited with the purest of souls, or the darkest of souls. Those more inclined to the center - ie. the morality of the average person, could be seen as the most negative to him. But! I'm willing to play with anyone, reasonably.
The above is for when he descends into "villainy." His personality before the life-changing incident is different, of course, although it was the personality that gave birth to the monstrosity that followed.
Copy paste from My Website
I haven't proofread the following, but it gives a fair insight into the history of the character.
Personality: (In construction) Possibly does best with other "villains," or the purest characters of the pure. (as villain)
Tends to see other villains and outcasts as less sinful, probably because they are like him. Loud, boisterous, cocky people are more likely to have their souls sucked out, as far as NPCs go.
Age: Teenager to young adult.
Appearance: (Villain) Upon his shoulders are fitted a few of the bones of his victims. His mouth is usually gagged with a metal plate. The outside of his deep, blue eyes are darkened. His quite thin, if not lithe. The main conduit of his shadow powers, his arms, are also fitted with bones. His costume is pitch black material. In the center of this costume, on his chest, is a red heart caged by bones (not literally, just the costume). Black hair covers one eye.
Occupation: Vigilante, Criminal, Villain, Thief (subsistence), Serial Killer, Wanderer, Murderer
Quote: This attention is interesting. It almost feels like living again. But what was that really like, though? I only know what it tastes like. It's slimy and it squirms. And it slithers like the snake from Eden. I still remember.
Biography: Devastated by losing his parents and friends, he had dedicated to bleeding heart to scouring the hopeless world of anything to resurrect them. He was the only one who survived the slaughter at the gathering, impaling into him an invincible, burdensome guilt. He had been unscathed, but the event scarred him emotionally. Hiding as the gunman looked for any witnesses or survivors, he could see the lifeless bodies of the people he loved, tormented looks upon their faces that were ingrained into his mind forever. They were enchained by death, and became bound his maddening mind. Having lost everything, he engaged into a seemingly hopeless venture to somehow cure those deaths.
Through tearful and restless nights, he searched everywhere for any sliver of help to ressurect his loved ones, endeavoring with all his wounded heart could offer. Eventually his desperation, having lost everything but his memories of them, led him to devious, ancient tomes of shadowy magic and devious books of the occult. He became enveloped in the dark rituals the scripts told, transforming him into a conduit of darkness and pain. Through great sacrifice his powers over darkness were gained, and with every spell he learned he became more and more entrenched in its pull. His soul was warped and corrupted, if not swallowed by the vacuum of the very shadows he commanded.
With whatever hope he had left, he hoped that with every step he took down that path he had chosen, he would become closer his goal, but the magics seemed to make a deathly haze at the end of the tunnel...The incantations in those spell books were undoubtedly powerful and seductive, but they did not provide the recipe for resurrection, and he became mad in this desperation.
These magics were voracious, as they were deadly and violent in nature, and they demanded as their sustenance the dinner of human souls and anguish. Lest he be swallowed by his own black magic, he sought to feed this hunger. It was simply another obstacle to his ultimate goal. But the initial cause of the desire for this goal - was not lost completely. Though he spent hours in abandoned buildings delving into sinister spells, the human idea of justice he still clung to. His dream of restoring his loved ones shattered, he then committed himself to bringing murderers, all those who transgressed against society to justice. He swore this.
It both sated the demon within him and his decomposing sense of justice.
In the night, when his spells and he himself were provided camouflage, he would prowl neighborhoods, becoming some sort of a vigilante by murdering those who assumed were sinful. However, his mind was clouded with the painful memory of losing his family and friends, and the question as to whether someone was guilty of anything was often not accurately answered.
His mind distorted with hateful visions of revenge, he gathered a growing collection of skulls to adorn his hiding places. Or perhaps to decorate himself. After all, you never really get to know a person till you know what's under their skin.
For a brief time in this history, and for a reason now unknown to him, the maelstrom in his thoughts parted slightly. He realized his hands, literally often, were drenched in blood, innocent blood. From people whom had no enemies - save for his choking embrace in their last hours. His lips were tools of deceit, they had promised justice but instead done what he had condemned people to death for. They must be punished, so that the rest of his corpse could remain pure and undefiled. A crude metal plate was placed and bonded over his mouth, gagging him speaking from unless explicitly removed. No evil could be spoken now. It was a fitting companion to the skulls and bones that sat upon his shoulders like guides.
After his penance, his lips were cleared and forgiven for its transgressions. He continued to kill, perhaps even more fervently, since no longer was he tainted by a broken, slithery lie. He soon gained the attention of the marauding Heroes, who themselves vowed to stop the slim figure who killed in the night. The Heroes wanted to deprive him of his revenge, providing obstacle for him at every turn. Oh no, the Heroes won't stand in his way...without being killed, at least.
So it came, with all this attention from Heroes, for him to become the "villain." Was he really a villain, or simply retribution embodied into a young, shadowy man? No matter. His eyes were already dark, and his hair already covered partly his pale face. A rib cage, housing a blood red heart...was at the center of his costume.
The above is for when he descends into "villainy." His personality before the life-changing incident is different, of course, although it was the personality that gave birth to the monstrosity that followed.
Copy paste from My Website
I haven't proofread the following, but it gives a fair insight into the history of the character.
Personality: (In construction) Possibly does best with other "villains," or the purest characters of the pure. (as villain)
Tends to see other villains and outcasts as less sinful, probably because they are like him. Loud, boisterous, cocky people are more likely to have their souls sucked out, as far as NPCs go.
Age: Teenager to young adult.
Appearance: (Villain) Upon his shoulders are fitted a few of the bones of his victims. His mouth is usually gagged with a metal plate. The outside of his deep, blue eyes are darkened. His quite thin, if not lithe. The main conduit of his shadow powers, his arms, are also fitted with bones. His costume is pitch black material. In the center of this costume, on his chest, is a red heart caged by bones (not literally, just the costume). Black hair covers one eye.
Occupation: Vigilante, Criminal, Villain, Thief (subsistence), Serial Killer, Wanderer, Murderer
Quote: This attention is interesting. It almost feels like living again. But what was that really like, though? I only know what it tastes like. It's slimy and it squirms. And it slithers like the snake from Eden. I still remember.
Biography: Devastated by losing his parents and friends, he had dedicated to bleeding heart to scouring the hopeless world of anything to resurrect them. He was the only one who survived the slaughter at the gathering, impaling into him an invincible, burdensome guilt. He had been unscathed, but the event scarred him emotionally. Hiding as the gunman looked for any witnesses or survivors, he could see the lifeless bodies of the people he loved, tormented looks upon their faces that were ingrained into his mind forever. They were enchained by death, and became bound his maddening mind. Having lost everything, he engaged into a seemingly hopeless venture to somehow cure those deaths.
Through tearful and restless nights, he searched everywhere for any sliver of help to ressurect his loved ones, endeavoring with all his wounded heart could offer. Eventually his desperation, having lost everything but his memories of them, led him to devious, ancient tomes of shadowy magic and devious books of the occult. He became enveloped in the dark rituals the scripts told, transforming him into a conduit of darkness and pain. Through great sacrifice his powers over darkness were gained, and with every spell he learned he became more and more entrenched in its pull. His soul was warped and corrupted, if not swallowed by the vacuum of the very shadows he commanded.
With whatever hope he had left, he hoped that with every step he took down that path he had chosen, he would become closer his goal, but the magics seemed to make a deathly haze at the end of the tunnel...The incantations in those spell books were undoubtedly powerful and seductive, but they did not provide the recipe for resurrection, and he became mad in this desperation.
These magics were voracious, as they were deadly and violent in nature, and they demanded as their sustenance the dinner of human souls and anguish. Lest he be swallowed by his own black magic, he sought to feed this hunger. It was simply another obstacle to his ultimate goal. But the initial cause of the desire for this goal - was not lost completely. Though he spent hours in abandoned buildings delving into sinister spells, the human idea of justice he still clung to. His dream of restoring his loved ones shattered, he then committed himself to bringing murderers, all those who transgressed against society to justice. He swore this.
It both sated the demon within him and his decomposing sense of justice.
In the night, when his spells and he himself were provided camouflage, he would prowl neighborhoods, becoming some sort of a vigilante by murdering those who assumed were sinful. However, his mind was clouded with the painful memory of losing his family and friends, and the question as to whether someone was guilty of anything was often not accurately answered.
His mind distorted with hateful visions of revenge, he gathered a growing collection of skulls to adorn his hiding places. Or perhaps to decorate himself. After all, you never really get to know a person till you know what's under their skin.
For a brief time in this history, and for a reason now unknown to him, the maelstrom in his thoughts parted slightly. He realized his hands, literally often, were drenched in blood, innocent blood. From people whom had no enemies - save for his choking embrace in their last hours. His lips were tools of deceit, they had promised justice but instead done what he had condemned people to death for. They must be punished, so that the rest of his corpse could remain pure and undefiled. A crude metal plate was placed and bonded over his mouth, gagging him speaking from unless explicitly removed. No evil could be spoken now. It was a fitting companion to the skulls and bones that sat upon his shoulders like guides.
After his penance, his lips were cleared and forgiven for its transgressions. He continued to kill, perhaps even more fervently, since no longer was he tainted by a broken, slithery lie. He soon gained the attention of the marauding Heroes, who themselves vowed to stop the slim figure who killed in the night. The Heroes wanted to deprive him of his revenge, providing obstacle for him at every turn. Oh no, the Heroes won't stand in his way...without being killed, at least.
So it came, with all this attention from Heroes, for him to become the "villain." Was he really a villain, or simply retribution embodied into a young, shadowy man? No matter. His eyes were already dark, and his hair already covered partly his pale face. A rib cage, housing a blood red heart...was at the center of his costume.