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Character: Ys Cordelan.
Series: Immortal Rain.
Character Age: Appears to be 9.
Canon: Canon: Being immortal? Sucks. Sure, it's got great health benefits and you have plenty of time to work on your stamp collection, but you also get to watch everyone you love eventually grow old and die. Not to mention, people aren't always welcoming to those who don't follow the trend, so you might get the short end of the hospitality stick and a pitchfork. After being made into a methuselah, an immortal being that is not a vampire, Rain comes to learn all of this and more as he wanders the Earth alone for six hundred years. At least, he isn't alone for part of the way when a high-spirited fifteen year old named Machika tags along with Rain, vowing to be his grim reaper. It isn't until Machika comes face to face with Rain's past-friend-now-foe, Yuca, that she understands the real price of immortality.
But behind each immortal, there is a man who made him so, and for Rain that person is Yuca. Unlike Rain, Yuca was born immortal, reincarnating with memories from his every past life since time began. As he continues to lose touch with reality, Yuca wants only to stop his eternal cycle, by making sure no one is alive to give birth to him. In this incarnation, Yuca is the adopted son of the head of a major biological weapons company, Ys. Normally, he is a kind and charismatic child prodigy, but when the facade is torn down as people realize his immortality, Ys becomes arrogant and quick to cut. He has no patience to spare, prefers to command and hold all of the cards. Ys doesn't rely on the others, and doesn't give any consideration to life either, especially his own. Still, after reincarnating several times, Ys is unbelievably intelligent, able to call up ancient and advanced knowledge instantly. Ys may not like immortality, but he does make sure it works for him.
Sample Entry:
Really, it's alright! I think you should share with everyone else. It's not fair to give all of this, ah, kelp-candy to one person. Please, don't touch. Stop, plea-Stop touching me! Now, listen. No more candy, no more moogles, and no more board games, especially ones depicting the wonderful journey through life. I am not going to ask how you know about my twenty most recent deaths, and I do not want to know. And the precise term is a land slide, not "rocks fall". Now, I will not repeat myself: The next person, or living dead if there is a difference, who fails to follow these simple instructions will be-. . . Will be shot, whether you have ears or not. Camp has provided unlimited ammunition, and as you are all aware, I have infinite time. If I need to, I can be creative.
. . . Good. I don't understand this Director's purpose in creating an encampment like this as she is clearly capable of much more than stripping people of their clothes, or rudimentary reanimation. She prevents death, so that she can enjoy her equivalent of a child's ant farm. -No, that does mean that I want one. And if you come a step closer with it, then I will consider it a board game. That aside, while I can see the appeal of playing God to a novice, it loses any meaning once Stockholm syndrome sets in. And it has; the compliance of everyone here, trusting in the greater plan, is a sure sign. This camp has become a dream, and everyone within it is asleep. When you are all being brought back to your last hour of life again and again, held here for eternity, then you'll realize it's a nightmare. However, I do not have plans to wait that long. . . Or to be treated as a child that needs safety scissors to cut his wires. You? You will be exposed to sarin gas first.
With the situation as it is, I have two options: Eliminate the barrier, or eliminate everything, organic and inorganic, within the barrier so nothing is left alive. Normally, I would choose the former for ease, but as the Director wishes to prevent escape even in death, I refuse to play nicely in turn. Not that it matters, but those moogles should wear a warning. Not everyone is grasping at life as strongly as the zombies, if stumbling around with no fingers could be called grasping. This may even be a blessing for them. Now, as you are all aware of the circumstances, I advise you to make your time. I don't care how you choose to, nor do I have any suggestions for your last moments, but whoever decides to play hero will receive as many painful deaths possible in twenty minutes or until they choose to admit defeat.
Fine. We can play Clue in the meantime.
Voting goes here!
Series: Immortal Rain.
Character Age: Appears to be 9.
Canon: Canon: Being immortal? Sucks. Sure, it's got great health benefits and you have plenty of time to work on your stamp collection, but you also get to watch everyone you love eventually grow old and die. Not to mention, people aren't always welcoming to those who don't follow the trend, so you might get the short end of the hospitality stick and a pitchfork. After being made into a methuselah, an immortal being that is not a vampire, Rain comes to learn all of this and more as he wanders the Earth alone for six hundred years. At least, he isn't alone for part of the way when a high-spirited fifteen year old named Machika tags along with Rain, vowing to be his grim reaper. It isn't until Machika comes face to face with Rain's past-friend-now-foe, Yuca, that she understands the real price of immortality.
But behind each immortal, there is a man who made him so, and for Rain that person is Yuca. Unlike Rain, Yuca was born immortal, reincarnating with memories from his every past life since time began. As he continues to lose touch with reality, Yuca wants only to stop his eternal cycle, by making sure no one is alive to give birth to him. In this incarnation, Yuca is the adopted son of the head of a major biological weapons company, Ys. Normally, he is a kind and charismatic child prodigy, but when the facade is torn down as people realize his immortality, Ys becomes arrogant and quick to cut. He has no patience to spare, prefers to command and hold all of the cards. Ys doesn't rely on the others, and doesn't give any consideration to life either, especially his own. Still, after reincarnating several times, Ys is unbelievably intelligent, able to call up ancient and advanced knowledge instantly. Ys may not like immortality, but he does make sure it works for him.
Sample Entry:
Really, it's alright! I think you should share with everyone else. It's not fair to give all of this, ah, kelp-candy to one person. Please, don't touch. Stop, plea-Stop touching me! Now, listen. No more candy, no more moogles, and no more board games, especially ones depicting the wonderful journey through life. I am not going to ask how you know about my twenty most recent deaths, and I do not want to know. And the precise term is a land slide, not "rocks fall". Now, I will not repeat myself: The next person, or living dead if there is a difference, who fails to follow these simple instructions will be-. . . Will be shot, whether you have ears or not. Camp has provided unlimited ammunition, and as you are all aware, I have infinite time. If I need to, I can be creative.
. . . Good. I don't understand this Director's purpose in creating an encampment like this as she is clearly capable of much more than stripping people of their clothes, or rudimentary reanimation. She prevents death, so that she can enjoy her equivalent of a child's ant farm. -No, that does mean that I want one. And if you come a step closer with it, then I will consider it a board game. That aside, while I can see the appeal of playing God to a novice, it loses any meaning once Stockholm syndrome sets in. And it has; the compliance of everyone here, trusting in the greater plan, is a sure sign. This camp has become a dream, and everyone within it is asleep. When you are all being brought back to your last hour of life again and again, held here for eternity, then you'll realize it's a nightmare. However, I do not have plans to wait that long. . . Or to be treated as a child that needs safety scissors to cut his wires. You? You will be exposed to sarin gas first.
With the situation as it is, I have two options: Eliminate the barrier, or eliminate everything, organic and inorganic, within the barrier so nothing is left alive. Normally, I would choose the former for ease, but as the Director wishes to prevent escape even in death, I refuse to play nicely in turn. Not that it matters, but those moogles should wear a warning. Not everyone is grasping at life as strongly as the zombies, if stumbling around with no fingers could be called grasping. This may even be a blessing for them. Now, as you are all aware of the circumstances, I advise you to make your time. I don't care how you choose to, nor do I have any suggestions for your last moments, but whoever decides to play hero will receive as many painful deaths possible in twenty minutes or until they choose to admit defeat.
Fine. We can play Clue in the meantime.
Voting goes here!