Post by Tesla on Aug 14, 2011 2:10:12 GMT -6
Name: Tesla, sometimes called Tes.
Age: 1025 years old.
Height: 5’8” – 5’11”
Weight: 160-200 lbs
Gender: Decidedly male.
Race: Djinn
Appearance: When unbound, Tesla dresses as if he were a nobleman who had suddenly walked out of the Victorian era. Choosing gray or taupe trousers and riding chaps, over ankle-high laced boots, paired with starched collared shirts in crisp white, and button-down waistcoats in a multitude of colors, Tesla appears very genteel indeed. Neck scarves and high collared riding coats are also a common sight, along with leather gloves, to complete his sophisticated look.
His features are very sharp; his jawline defined, curving into a rounded chin. His lips are full, pale pink. A large, rather English nose adorns the front of his face, a pair of standard green eyes dotting either side. High forehead and cheekbones accentuate his regal appearance, which is slightly offset by the wild brown curls sweeping back from his crown.
Personality: Tesla is a suave being, very charming and good natured; a lady-killer. He has the utmost respect for women, and will often go out of his way to flatter, dote upon, and even seduce them. That being said, he hates most male creatures, especially those who look down upon those of the fairer sex. At first meeting with a man, Tesla is reluctant, preferring to pass judgment in that fleeting moment of first impressions. If deemed tolerable, he will be as pleasant as he can. If he feels that the man before him is anything less than mediocre as a being, he can become quite snide. Verbally hurtful, he will not hesitate to pick apart a person from the ground up, whether it be attacks on their speech, attire, mannerisms or general lifestyle, no comment is too low, or underhanded.
There are very few ladies that would garner such a response, however, needy, whiny, pouty little princesses bring about instant distaste. Other than that, opening doors, pulling out chairs, and passing sweet compliments are his usual response. Often his actions appear nearly harmless, but unfortunately for females, they usually are not. Ever the sexual creature, Tesla has the tendency to flatter and woo in order to get what he wants out of women. Often times the act of sex is not truly what he seeks. Having been contained and chained for much of his life, the simple, affectionate touch of two beings in equality is what he seeks.
He has a light sense of humor, only from association with humans. He has learnt the mannerisms which indicate when it is appropriate to laugh; without this understanding, he has almost no sense of humor to speak of. When not in a situation which involves flattery, insults, or pretending to understand comedy, Tesla is rather serious. He finds little enjoyment in solitude, and has come to enjoy servitude for its security and companionship.
Having few other vices aside from the absolute need for companionship, Tesla can become a bit intoxicated if enticed into drinking. He is a lightweight to say the least. He does not smoke, or indulge in any other substances.
He carries a slim riding crop with him at all times, the handle of which is made of ivory carved in the bust of an intricate lion. It has symbolic value to him, and if one were to note the scars which he allows to remain running across his back, they might begin to understand why.
Background: Once there was a woman who cared for a little boy. He never grew up, even as she came to gray. This woman is one which Tesla would call a mother. He had never had a mother, and hardly understood the complex relationship between offspring and parent as it was, but the feeling of devotion, of unbridled care and affection was intoxicating. Such a relationship drained him, and soon his powers seemed to falter, this woman wanted a son, and he was slowly becoming that: A human boy.
It didn’t last. He was too attached to his gifts, to his magic. And she wasn’t attached enough, to the land of the living. She was killed, ruthlessly, by men who discovered Tesla’s gifts. The transformation into an “adult” was difficult. His new master was cruel, and wanted much from the weakened Djinn. He did his best, but it was never good enough. He was beaten, a terrible practice. This man was power-hungry, and made mistakes. Tesla changed hands once more.
Life continued like this for nearly 900 years before an elfen shaman came upon his glass and tarnished silver bottle. She never opened it. Placed upon a shelf, he lay in a strange slumber, visions of what he thought might be reality flickering in and out of focus. The woman lived a secluded life, making draughts and potions to sell to the superstitious. Whether they worked or not, Tesla could not say. He did not change hands again for another century. The price must have been right. That person took the bottle, opened it, set it on the ground, and walked away. Still sleepy from confinement, Tesla was unable to pursue his savior, only snatch up his container, and find his own way through the 21st century.
Roleplay Sample: The gentle whisper of rain faded from the humid air, lulling the pretty man into a daze. It was midafternoon, but he felt he should be sleeping. Such a lazy day; not his favorite sort of weather: overcast, early rain and hot. Rubbing a gloved hand at his eyes he rose from his reclined position on a small wooden bench in a scruffy neighborhood park. It once was lush he guess, but with the strife of this century, its upkeep had fallen to the wayside. He strode down the small dirt path, black boots gathering dust, clouding their polished luster. Soon his pace was interrupted, a small girl stepping before him.
“Excuse me mister, but I can’t find my mommy.” She instinctively took his hand, an action which surprised Tesla, but his features soon melted into a gentle smile.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to find her. Where was she last, dearest?” His tones were soft, smooth like creamery milk.
The girl pointed off towards the small confectionary which served basic corner store beverages and foodstuffs. As they approached, the frantic form of a woman appeared out the front door, and upon catching sight of Tesla and the small girl, came rushing over.
“My God Annie! Don’t run off like that!” Her chosen words would indicate anger, but her tone and the sudden embrace of her daughter communicated relief and care. She turned to Tesla, “She asked you for help, didn’t she?”
Tesla nodded, a little uncertain of whether this would prove to be a good or bad thing.
“She’s always doing this… ever since her father was taken. She runs off and finds the nearest man, under the guise that she’s lost. One day it could really get her into trouble.”
Tesla gave a soft laugh, “Do not fear, I’m not that sort of malicious person. I could never harm such a sweet young girl, or bring sadness to her pretty mother.”
The woman blushed, taking Annie by the hand, “Thank you for bringing her to me. I’ve got to get going.” She bustled off, clearly uncertain about Tesla’s compliment.
He sighed. Another night alone.
Other (Abilities, etc): Quite dexterous with a rapier, a weapon he substitutes with his riding crop. Enjoys conjuration of imagined objects, and is quite skilled at dreaming up devices to please those around him.
Breaking Point: Tesla once had a master who was more of a mother than anything. So much so, he took on the form a young boy, clad in school uniform, even attending public school for a short time. If a woman were ever to remind him of this past mistress, and she was to be put in harm’s way, he would be unable to control his instant protective instinct.
HP: 9
Physical Attack: 6
Physical Defense: 6
Special Attack: 4
Special Defense: 6
Speed: 3
Agility: 5
Skill: 7
Energy Reserves/Stamina: 4