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 Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:07 pm
INTRODUCTION
Temporary holding cell for Ivan and Shen (TECHNICIAN + CROSSBOW WEAPON COMBO).
CONTENTS
-- TECHNICIAN
-- WEAPON
-- Soul Resonance
-- Living Arrangements
-- Roleplay
-- Gallery
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:21 pm
THE TECHNICIAN
TECHNICIAN Name: Ivan
Meaning: 'God has mercy.' In Ivan's case, maybe 'God have mercy' would be more appropriate.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Lean and of average height with a strong nose and jaw; his hair is dishwater blonde, chin-length and cropped roughly around his face. Perhaps when asleep his features could look refined, but something about his slouch and the way he wears his expressions gives the impression of untrustworthiness. His one exposed eye reaffirms the notion; narrow and steely, almost always at odds with a mouth that smirks and bares teeth on its own. The other eye is hidden beneath a black eyepatch which he never removes. Ivan favours a loose-fitting, boxy, black cap, thin v-necked tops even in freezing weather, and slacks over the same pair of white flip-flops. He doesn't dress up or down for anyone. The clothes themselves are harmless, yet together with the grin hung on Ivan's lips, they somehow hint at the shady character of their owner.
Personality: It's easy to balk at Ivan. Those with the ability can sense his large and hungry soul; the world is his oyster, and he'll do everything he can to pry it apart. Wild and overbearing, he makes life difficult for others just because he can, the student sleeping at the back of the classroom whom the teacher won't disturb. He doesn't actively cultivate fear but gives off the aura of a guy who'll punch your nose in for a slight, and prefers to speak in actions rather than words. Creepily pleasant to those who cave to his demands, he's similarly ruthless towards anyone who stands in his way.
Ivan hates boredom, and when faced with it, will go to great lengths to create his own amusement, whether that's accomplished by tripping up solitary WEAPONS or setting something on fire. His monstrous wavelength reflects the size of his ego; he only believes in himself, and scoffs at the idea of paired meisters automatically being superior. Two mice are not going to overpower an owl, no matter how much they co-operate. Ruled by violence first and foremost, he nevertheless has a strong sense of self-preservation outside of the battlefield. Darker instincts can usually be curbed in the presence of authority figures, but only if Ivan suspects they're the real deal.
Background: Ivan's features lend credence to Slavic origins, and he certainly fits the image of a trigger-happy Russian maniac. In truth, he hasn't a clue where he comes from, and if asked will tell you that he crawled right out of the gutter. It isn't entirely untrue; with his unkempt hair and habit of exhibiting his pierced tongue, he bears a strong resemblance to a feral dog. Spending the majority of his childhood on the streets stamped much of their influence on him - he's sharp but ultimately a loose cannon, aggressive and agile from run-ins with crooks and law enforcers alike.
Ivan's earliest memory is of his shoes being stolen. Whether he was lost or abandoned, the fact remains that he was there, in the kind of neighbourhood where people could reasonably fear being murdered for their teeth. He wasted no time establishing himself as something other than prey and fell easily enough into theft to feed himself, and then into extortion when he ate enough to put on some muscle. Not owning very much meant he was extremely possessive of what he had; touch his stuff and he'd defend his property with his life, but not before he took your head completely off your shoulders.
It was around this time that Ivan acquired the bizarre hobby of collecting people - not exactly underlings, but the rare specimens that caught his interest and were entertaining or skillful enough to keep around. Eventually his little motley crew garnered enough notoriety to warrant quashing my SHIBUSEN. The ensuing battle revealed two things (or maybe three): Ivan's bloodthirst and potential to be a TECHNICIAN, and a whole new sphere for him to play in.
Preference: Ivan doesn't care what he's on top of. Pin him, and he might be persuaded to top from the bottom.
Other Likes: BBQ, dogs, making people kneel, liquor, hunting, hotpot.
Dislikes: Boredom, closed shoes, rain, extreme weather conditions, stiff brass (or any brass, really).
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:23 pm
THE WEAPON
WEAPON Name: Cai Shen
Meaning: 'Firewood' + 'Cautious, deep'
WEAPON Form: Shen takes the form of an ancient Chinese crossbow, constructed wholly from wood, horn and animal tendon. Unlike his brothers and other modern variations of the weapon, Shen is leverless. He has no pulleys or firing system whatsoever, which means shooting relies entirely on the arm strength of the archer. Approximately eighty centimetres on either side, Shen is nevertheless considered a lightweight, and has the intricate detail of a dragon whittled onto his stock.
Element: Wind
Gender: Male
Appearance: The curtain of white hair is the first thing people notice. Waist-length, coupled with his pale complexion and eyes, he resembles a ghost, and if he were the type to explain himself he'd have a hard time convincing anyone of his nationality. Although subjected to the same physical training as his siblings, he doesn't appear intimidating in any way, especially beneath multiple layers of traditional Hanfu clothing. Typically, he dons wide sleeves and legs for the sake of maneuverability; the adorned trimmings and insignia of his clan on the hems and collar are symbols he can't run away from. Who he is is branded on his skin as a reminder. An inked dragon rests on his back, running from shoulder to hip. Because of his effeminate looks and reserve, people make the mistake of assuming he's weak or stupid. In reality, there's a pent-up storm behind the calm. Physically at least, he is far from delicate.
Personality: Lithe and fleet-footed, Shen has had years of forms and practices drilled into his bones, but is nevertheless held back by the deference instilled in him at an early age, and a crippling lack of self-esteem. Partly due to the impatient patronising of his tutors and the apathy of his clan, he has a warped notion of his worth, and is accustomed to setting aside his needs for the whims of others. He has settled so deeply into the certainty of his own inferiority that he finds praise unnerving, and will categorise people who give it as 'kindly' or simply 'lying.' Even then, he's too well-bred to say so, and will smile in a manner that looks completely sincere.
Shen lacks ambition. He's very conscious of his WEAPON form as something built to serve others, useless without hands to notch and hold him steady. In his mind, he views the extra effort required to wield him as a failure on his part, and discounts his competencies. Raised to be an instrument of war and nothing further, he is motivated by the desire to protect, and has an almost uncharacteristically blasé attitude towards death. Shen sees maiming and even killing as an unfortunate but necessary part of his function: to assist his TECHNICIAN in any way that they desire, or failing that, in any way that Shen sees fit.
The compulsion doesn't stretch to others. Shen is perfectly capable of individual thought, just bound by strict customs of class rigidity, particularly those of give and take. Towards people Shen considers his betters, he is unfailingly courteous. Towards his TECHNICIAN; obedient to a fault. However, Shen does not yield to the world at large, remaining politely indifferent to anyone outside his circle (provided they don't outrank him). The strange mannerisms have left him isolated; few bother to befriend him, and fewer understand him. Even so, as a boy he craved affection, and never grew out of the habit.
Background: Shen was born into a family that dealt more in blood that was shed than blood in the veins. As the fourth child, he was taught to be moderate, and learned too well, underperforming in all tasks to better transfer glory to his brothers. For their part, he was predominantly ignored, too little to be of any use, and in any event there were already three of them, more wolves than musketeers – what did they need a lamb for, except maybe to eat? After Shen joined them at SHIBUSEN however, their disregard turned to resentment as instructors caught on to his attempts to suppress his soul and revealed him as the most gifted of the four, imbued with the wind properties that all thought had skipped their generation.
The discovery allowed Shen to hope that he would be of more use to his newly-partnered TECHNICIAN, but this was not to be. The fledgling meister caved under pressure from the Cai family and paired instead with Shen's eldest brother, reluctantly allowed by SHIBUSEN as they had not yet fully integrated. The shock of the incident bleached Shen's soul entirely white and drove him right back into the fortress of his self-doubt. Following the loss of his partner, he no longer did well alone, gravitating towards crowds in an attempt to seal up the cracks. The resolution to match his wavelength had mostly crumbled; he lost count of the number of times he reached out with it, watching as eligible candidates paired off with someone else.
Though several years passed, Shen was plagued by the memory, and still flinched when he came across any of his brothers, an inevitable occurrence since they lived under the same roof. It was on a distracted escapade into the city that he was picked up by Ivan, metres from bar Xen, as it so happened. What Ivan initially wanted is anyone's guess, but each was surprised to greet a wavelength that pushed back at his own.
Preference: This is one of the few things Shen's allowed to make up his own mind about. The Cai's find romantic attachments frivolous, although they do have a tendency to marry their TECHNICIANS.
Other Likes: The moon, busy places, bridges, trees, sweets, order, giftwrap and other forms of packaging, insects.
Dislikes: Sleeping, heat, failure, tight clothing.
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:33 pm
SOUL RESONANCE
Not yet achieved.
PARTNERSHIP: Despite the initial meeting and the relief (however well-concealed) from both sides, it isn't a healthy relationship, nor one that makes sense to a casual observer. Whether in personality or fighting-style, these two don't seem to mesh at all. Shen has been vigorously disciplined and specialises in stealth; his speed and capacity for silence and shadow work are at the heart of his skillset. In WEAPON mode, he's accurate and most suited to mid- or far-range battle.
In contrast, Ivan lacks formal training, adept in close combat only in the sense that he needs to be able to reach to kick your kneecaps in. His unpredictability, quick reflexes and brute strength are all he has and needs to back up his deranged antics. As for the magnitude of his soul - it's formidable, but he attends classes so sporadically that he barely knows how to use it.
Together, it becomes more complicated. Ivan can recognise that he's secured something pretty valuable - and therein lies the problem; he treats Shen like something he owns. It's an assumption that Shen has done nothing to displace - the WEAPON is instinctively acquiescent and doesn't judge Ivan at all. Whatever faults the other has (and these are many and glaring), Shen believes it's his responsibility to accept his TECHNICIAN the way he is, half-blindness and all. This, along with Ivan's nonchalance and apparent distaste of long-distance warfare, have led to a completely imbalanced relationship so far, and that reflects in their inability to resonate. As things stand, they're effectively strangers, with one wholly dominating the other.
Theoretically, however, it's a good match. Ivan displays all the characteristics of the swift powerhouse that's needed to draw Shen to his full capacity, and Shen is durable and agreeable enough to handle Ivan's rough treatment and controlling ways.
MINI-SOULS
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 9:39 pm
LIVING ARRANGEMENTS
Currently they reside separately; although Ivan's bound to do something about it sooner or later - he likes his tools close at hand.
SHEN: The Cai residence is something like a sprawling timber temple: goldleaf columns, tiled roof and lion gate-guardians in the immaculate, illogical style of feng shui. Most beautiful prison you'll find anywhere.
IVAN: Hole-in-the-wall crashsite. There's a mattress. He sleeps on it. What else do you need to know?
(4th floor apartment on a cheap block located in the more disreputable part of Death City. Ivan leaves the door unlocked - 'Come into my parlour,' said the spider to the fly.)
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 10:14 pm
ROLEPLAYCONCEPT Entry
Prompt Choice: #2 - Your WEAPON partner is causing a scene in the middle of the ballroom: what are they doing, and what caused it? How do you deal with the situation?
Prompt Response: Ivan yawned hugely as he dragged an unoccupied chair from an occupied table, ignoring the half-formed protests, and straddled it where he'd have a good view of the ballroom. He rested his chin on the backrest, then toed off his flip-flops as an afterthought. Might as well get comfy. The bossman was making his rounds, and Ivan tracked the blue hair for a moment before catching the glint of glasses in his direction. So Phonne was keeping an eye out after all. Ivan displayed his teeth at the administrator in what was more a snarl than a smile, then went back to his study of the room. He wouldn't be caught dead in here if he hadn't been caught fair and square outside; in his usual get-up, complete with cap, eyepatch and low-necked green shirt, he flashed his canines at each and every mouse who stared until a small buffer zone was carved out around his person.
He rubbed his nose against his shoulder to conceal a growl. Ivan had never liked Phonne. Probably never would. Oh, there was some respect there, but the man reminded Ivan too much of a parole officer. Just his dog luck that he'd fused with a WEAPON right in Phonne's direct line of sight, and if Ivan had imagined the faint smirk, he'd eat his balls.
The pseudo-Russian considered the crossbow he'd hustled in front of Xen – even half-blind he couldn't miss hair like that – and his face took on a wolfish cast. He knew jack about what a compatible soul was supposed to feel like, but the second he'd grabbed the guy's arm, there'd been... something. Call it a solid whack to the stomach – none of the gutless fizzle or bitching whiplash reactions he'd gotten so far – and judging by how wide his eyes went, his WEAPON wasn't complaining. Ivan smirked at the memory. New classes meant fresh prey, and he'd managed to pull an elemental; he didn't have details, but Ivan was pretty sure that made Shen a classy breed.
They hadn't come together – Ivan hadn't planned on coming at all – but his WEAPON was bound to be around; for such a close-mouthed doll he liked crowds, and stood out like flock of sheep in a forest.
Aha.
Ivan climbed carelessly off the chair, already shouldering his way through the herd as it teetered to the floor with a crash. Maybe they'd dance – he got such a high from a kid who'd do whatever the hell he wanted. But eight, maybe nine steps away, Shen went rigid. Ivan stopped. The WEAPON wasn't looking at him though, backing slowly into the catering table, and his eyes were fixed on an approaching duo. By the looks of it, a WEAPON/TECHNICIAN pair. Even Ivan with his rubbish soul detection felt a prickle wash over his skin as they neared, and the surrounding people either tugged each other away or fell silent.
“Shen,” the taller man boomed, and his magnanimous b*****d of a tone set Ivan's teeth immediately on edge. “I trust you're doing well by yourself? We missed you at dinner last night.” The other part of said 'we' didn't look happy at all. Staring avidly down at the black and white tiles, his hands were shaking, and he looked distinctly guilty.
“I'm very well. Thank you for enquiring after me, brother,” Shen responded, and dipped his chin with inbred civility. Back straight and face impassive, he gave off an empty, careless precision, but some undertone to that remark was screaming 'pain.' Or maybe it wasn't the way he said it, Ivan thought suddenly. There was an uncomfortable probing at his abdomen that he was starting to realise correlated to his WEAPON's state of mind.
“Shen,” Ivan drawled, and cracked his neck when three sets of eyes darted towards him. He ignored the brother and his spineless pet, and beckoned Shen with a leer. “Come here.”
Damned if Ivan was going to put up with the pressure on his gut, and some a*****e walking all over his WEAPON. He grasped Shen's wrist as he drew close, dutiful as ever, and spared a glance over his shoulder.
“He's not by himself,” he said sweetly, and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Don't ******** touch what's mine.”
EXTERNAL RPs
[ERP] - Jacob & Ivan // Hot N Cold
[ERP] - Z & Ivan // Too close for comfort
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Posted: Sun Aug 23, 2009 10:16 pm
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