Post by Malach on Feb 29, 2012 0:19:14 GMT 1
Playby: Robert Boyd Holbrook
Name: Malach
Age: Timeless / 27 years
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Species: Djinn
Physical Description:
6'2'' and built like a dancer, Malach is beautiful like all of his kind. His movements are sinuous, with a grace and seemingly boneless flexibility that speaks of his inhumanity. He lacks body hair instead having tattoo-like markings over his body that shimmer as if edged in gilt. His hair is blonde and baby fine and his eyes are heterochromatic, blue and green like a cat. When he smiles it is always as if he were laughing at a joke no-one else understands.
He likes to wear flowing clothing (robes, cloaks, coats) apropriate to the time and place and is particularly fond of scarves.
Attitude:
Malach is possessed of an odd mixture of patience and impulsiveness. While he would think nothing of waiting a millennia for something he can be bored to tears by a poorly written poem. The degree of apparent malice that manifests in his granting of wishes is often directly in proportion to how 'boring' he finds them though it is simply his attempt to make things more 'interesting'. Malach harbours a sense of smug superiority over all other things and loves an excuse to be flamboyant.
He demands an unusual degree of formality in the phrasing of the wishes he grants, and if frustrated he can become petty and destructive. However he never tires of taking pleasure in what he is and his company can be a wild and unforgettable ride to those who can keep up and keep him amused. He loves to see people startled and will often go out of his way to surprise them without any real consideration as to the consiquences.
Abilities:
Malach has a very short attention span and is wantonly forgetful of things he regards as unimportant, which is an awful lot.
He is something of a maggpie and kleptomaniac, accumulating a collection of often (but not always) worthless trinkets and souvineers wherever he goes.
His electrokinesis is weak and unreliable though it drains him as thoroughly whether it works or not.
Malach's object is an elaborately carved Smilodon fang aproximately 10'' in length. (see signature)
Standard Djinn Abilities:
- Immortal - Very beautiful - Heightened senses - Fast healing - Have strong skin; difficult to penetrate with a blade and/or bullet (with the exception of angel/demon forged weapons).
- Can remove certain memories from people - Affinity for reptiles and can communicate with them.
- Plasmakinesis; can concentrate and hurl a ball of plasma plasma and can envelope their bodies in a green plasma like armour.
- Can turn their bodies into mist as a form of travel.
- Can shoot lightning from their hands, but doing this drains their energy.
- Able to grant wishes.
Standard Djinn Weaknesses:
- If the object they are bound to is destroyed, then the Djinn turns mortal.
- Must grant three wishes per week or die.
- Only a blade forged by demons and angels can penetrate their skin.
History:
It has been more than ten thousand years since a Smiladon last walked the earth...
The fang had passed from hand to hand through the tribe for longer than anyone could remember, for longer than the tales were passed down from generation to generation. It was their great secret, their great weapon, their great curse. Always there was named a Keeper, she who would call the Spirit and risk its wrath. But with great power came great jealousy and the fang was stolen by a man.
It passed through many careless hands bringing fortune and wrath before the New-people came to the land to sweep away the Old, and it passed into the hands of the New-men. The New-men were clever and proud and warlike. They had facility with language and craft and thought themselves the masters of all things. They decorated the fang and they used it for such glory and for such destruction until their land sank beneath the sea.
Adrift on the endless tides of the world, the fang journeyed far before being cast ashore in a scorched land, where dark and primitive peoples made war and it lay in the treasure-houses of kings until it was forgotten and passed in tribute to another peoples and another land.
From the burning south to the freezing north it journeyed and back again. It passed through the hands of the brutal and the enlightened, the primitive and the advanced and it did so with indifference. Eventually it came to rest at last upon the alter of a golden god and an empire of blood waxed and waned. When the temple fell the fang passed into the dark earth with it.
But it was not the nature of man to let that which was buried alone and the fang passed into archaeology, into the hands of the curious and the treasure seekers, historians and thieves of antiquity, oblivious to the ancient powers they were waking. And when the world shattered beneath them that power slept again, lost amongst the ruins, waiting for a more interesting dawn.
“Hey, Mikey... come see what I found. Bet we could sell this for a fair bit in New Vegas.”
The scavenger waved the fang aloft for his friend to see. If it had been smaller he would have been tempted to just try to slip it under his ragged jacket and not admit to his find at all. The gang rules said that he would only get two shares of whatever they made from it.
“I wish we didn't have to share it with the rest of the crew...”
“Granted...” purred an amused voice.
There was a sudden rumble and the ground began to shake...
Rule Code Word: Elek is made of awesome
Species Code Word: Marid
Clarification Code Word: Firefly
Rp Sample:
Malach growled inwardly to himself. He had been called from his object less that an hour ago and already he was bored. The 'gang' of thieves who had broken into the museum were nothing more than street hoodlums and they had already bungled the whole affair by the time they accidentally smashed the case that contained his object. He found the situation particularly irksome given that like many Djinn he considered himself a rather good thief.
The gang were now in a tedious stand-off with security and the police. However, mistake or no on their part, one of the humans had summoned him forth from his object and he owed them three wishes. Most of the last hour had been taken up with them having hysterics at him.
“I wish we never do dis job from Sam...”
Malach frowned. He hated it when they tried to wish that they had never met him, and he wasn't about to start granting that kind of idiot wish now after so many millennia. When would they ever learn that wish was even more pointless than wishing for more wishes?
“Granted” he muttered in irritation.
The youth stared at him as if expecting something to happen or change. He screwed up his eyes and held his breath as if that would do any good, before finally giving up. “You liar man. You no genie. Where my wish? Why we still here?”
“You are still here because you did not wish not to be...” Malach growled softly. “You did not take this job from Sam. He died yesterday of a heart attack. You are not doing this for anyone...” He shot the boy a withering look. “You have two wishes left.”
“I wan go home. Git us home. Now!”
Malach was rapidly losing patience with the human, not that he or any of his kind were exactly well known for their patience, but it had been a while since he had been summoned and he had really been trying hard here. The human had, even if only accidentally, broken him out from the extremely dull display case that had been preventing anyone from touching his bound object.
“For the dozenth time...” Malach groaned exasperated, “...you have to say 'I wish...' “
“I wish we all back home...”
Now that was more like it. Malach looked around. Himself, six gang members, two security guards and two, no four police officers. But who's home? He pondered a moment, not that the delay was perceivable to the humans, the mind of a Djinn when engaged on a wish was without such mundane limitations as time and space. Home Turf of course...
“Granted” he chuckled with a grin.
The sound of the museum alarm suddenly vanished along with the flashing security lights and the entire mismatched ensemble materialised in the middle of the Banderos gang turf ...and into the midst of a gang initiation. Malach was choking on laughter at the looks on all their faces. That look of shock and total surprise just never ever grew old.
A gunshot rang out and the whole situation rapidly exploded into a chaotic blur of gunfire and screaming with bodies falling, running and diving for cover. The human cowered sobbing hysterically under the burned out car where he had crawled to take cover as more gun shots rang out, his hand still clutching the carved fang like a lifeline. He cracked his head against the rusted exhaust as he jumped at the seductive voice that whispered in his ear.
“You still have one wish left... get on with it.”