Character's name:Merica Dind Age Upon Entering/At Death:49 Age Now:49 Race:Demonoid
Appearance:
Two great horns project from the man's shining scalp, curling back with the upper hemisphere of his skull. These horns can only follow the arch of the man's skull for so long before they find their own path, which has led them to spiral away from the skull and into their own being; growth of the keratin as been stunted by metallic tips. Sporting the spiraling growths is a strong jawed visage. Mandibles bulge from either side of the man's face, constantly working as if he were chewing gum. Thick, dark gray lips are pushed outward by bulbous ivory teeth. Each tooth matches the other in length, ballooning at the peak and becoming narrower as they taper down into a viciously sharp point. A serpent hides behind the ivory gates; a tongue elongated to a degree that it can easily reach the demonoid's chin.
A Greek statue stands before you, taupe gray in color with muscles that are so well defined that shadows appear to dance upon their surface. Each curvature is seen and veins protrude over the entirety of this entities body, the blue of his blood constantly coursing through. With each beat of his heart his body appears to vibrate, a renewed life surging with energy awaiting to be exposed. This being is muscular, though not to a point where his movement is hindered. The muscles are smooth and well worked, continuously consuming energy; food can be seen as an accessory in this man's case. For the most part his body appears to be human, but if his horns do not give away his race his hands will. Being disproportional and having talons where fingernails should be, his digits are reptilian in appearance. Large, bumpy knuckles rest on the grotesquely long fingers. Holding these bulky appendages are tree trunk forearms with thick veins that lead all the way to the tips of the fingers.
The shadows that dance with light on his body can be seen everywhere, for he wears no clothing. Fully exposed, one would believe that there would be some sexuality exposed in his pelvic region. Nay, there is none. Where his sex should lie a blank slate awaits, but does this mean he is genderless? Maybe one will find out someday. Though one may be lucky enough not to see this being's privates, his flank is there for all to see. Each cheek is well endowed, curving into one another to form a crease of art. Coming from the bulbous glutaeus are legs that have been built to heave a great weight--Merica being an ogre with a large 6'7" stature, adorned with 230 pounds of lean tissue. Much like his hands, his feet do not match the proportions of his body. The veins in his feet branch out toward toes that hold thick, pointed nails.
Personality:
I am not a heathen, I am a man of prestige.
Such a love for the finer things in life make Merica appear to be graceless, especially in the ways that he will go about to achieve luxuries. If there is a woman that he finds "lovely" he will mimic her every move, try to entice her with gifts, and if that does not work he is known to become physical--rape has not been added to his book, yet. Gluttonous in every sense, it would be best not to offer anything to this being. Sharing is not in this man's interest, nor is the benefit of others. Can you really judge him though? Not many people have shown the kindness to warm this demon's heart, and being a demon he was already predisposed to be apathetic to the needs of others.
Demons are meant to be eternal; pain, joy, and remorse have no meaning. But what if one were to be disposed of before he could reach that maturity that would rid his existence of what his race would call "mortal" emotions? Merica is such a demon. Oblivion reached this being before he could fully delve into the coldness of his demonic upbringing, so even though he has cynical attributes, he is not necessarily nefarious. He has a love for finer things; love for music and art; love for himself... but what of another? Maybe, deep in this demon's being--heart?--there is an unlit torch. Self is hard to find, and sometimes it takes more than one to make a discovery.
Biography:
There was no wondrous birth. No mother or father. He just was. Somehow Merica came to be, a void had opened and thrown this monstrosity into existence. All he knew was that it was cold. What is this? was this demon's first conscious thought as his newly formed body flowed through space, phosphorescent stars and distant planets ebbing in the background. Coal black eyes would take in the darkness of space--its vast and lonely being. A dark sea and a lone ship. No sound traveled to his ear, and even as he went to speak he could not find a voice. Why am I? he questioned as he began to gain feeling of his body, first moving his finger and toes. While he manipulated his flesh with the bone that laid beneath, he connected to something greater than space itself, life. He did not know that it was life, he just knew it called for him. A bright orb in the distance held it, and he knew that was where he would find meaning.
It was five years before Merica encountered any life forms, and when he did it was not pleasant. A large spacecraft had found the being and granted him entrance, but when they faced the creature they were stunned:
"What is this?" questioned a man in a white suit as he neared Merica, a long rod held in round, porky fingers. "Looks to be some sort of humanoid... how it lives in space is beyond me," spoke another, whose stature was towering compared to his stout comrade. Both men's quizzical looks peered through thick spectacle lenses as they circled the demonoid. A rod would be prodded into the being side, and the ogre would shoot the porky man a hateful gaze. "In all my years I have never seen such a specimen! Wondrous, we should add it to our collection." Merica himself questioned who and what he was, and to have two more question his being engulfed him in rage. The demonoid's black lips would quiver and then spread to show his ivory canines, which shone in the light from above; in that short amount of time he had gained the knowledge of the beings speech. "Do not question my existence," The voice of Merica was finally heard. Boisterous, but velvety smooth to a point that even the hearts of the two men trembled with orgasmic pleasure...
Merica's voice had not been enough to sway the men from their ludicrous act. They attempted to capture him, captivate him and study him, but failed. The man would not allow it, there was something--life--out there calling to him. He would have it, he lusted for it. Those men who had wished to study the man, to find out what he was, ceased to exist shortly after their encounter with the demonoid. It would not go to waste, the loss of two helpless souls, for their glorious ship would become his. He now possessed something! What a glorious day, the day that he gained his first material possession. Everything was finely tuned, the most expensive and lavish trinkets laid about the ship; the men that originally owned the ship lived lavishly. For what seemed to be years, Merica would sit about the ship, not knowing how to control it. Before he knew it the other beings around him began to die, all of the captive animals that had been gathered up during the ships years.
Tediously he worked until he understood the ship. As controls became mastered, a lust for knowledge was fueled. To know everything and to hold it, feel it for himself. This was the making of Merica's personality. The ship was understood, and now he would be able to reach what he was destined to find. Once so distant, the blue orb began to inflate. It kept ballooning until finally it was close enough for white swirls of weather movements could be seen against the blue of the ocean. Spots of land, looking flat from above, dotted the orb. The collision with the atmosphere had been rough, and Merica lost his vessel, but he had gained so much more. He had reached his destination, but still felt so empty. His ship had landed in a dense forest, trees that resemble Earth's pines reaching into the sky's expanse. The world was a cacophony of sound, and he was not pleased with its irregular rhythm. Ears sensitive to sound picked up a note in the distant, distinct from the rattle of nature surrounding him. Merica followed it until he reached a primitive village:
A twig snapped beneath his foot as he neared the huts made of wooden shoots, and exploding from the one nearest him came a being that looked exactly like those of the ship he had owned. Unlike the two on the ship, this one held a totally different appearance. Lush, onyx colored hair flowed down a curvaceous figure. Merica's pulse raced--he had not felt this way until he figured he owned the spacecraft. The woman's brown eyes gazed at the beast, widening with fear as she stepped back. "Merica Dind!" screamed the tribal...
So Merica Dind he became, but only if he had known she had truly been beckoning the tribe's shaman. Before he even had time to step forth into the world and make his dark mark, his body was consumed by magic’s he did not understand before it was too late. The flames licked at his flesh, ate away at it and made it bubble. Pain was little, even as his veins were seared when his flesh no longer resided upon his muscular skeleton. The orbs which had lusted to view so much burst within their sockets, sending forth a frothing fluid that would soon be rejoined in another world. Before he left the world of the living, only to join it yet again, Merica had gained a somewhat simplistic personality. He knew what he liked and he knew that he wanted it. But he never filled another need before he left and that void still waits to be filled.
He woke next to a slow flowing river...
Powers, if any:
Understanding: It takes little time for the demonoid to gain knowledge of skills or languages, though it does take him an extended amount time to completely master them. ie: Taking 44 years to master the controls of the spacecraft.
More may come, he is a young demonoid and underdeveloped.
Weapons, if any:Taloned fingernails and horns. Additional information:
-Searching to fill a void, may be the reason why he loves lavish items.
-Loves music, especially when sung by women.
-Consumes food in vast quantities.Edited by: Juggling Jester at: 6/11/07 8:35 pm
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
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