Post by Reverend Mateus on May 3, 2015 13:00:01 GMT -5
Real name: He is commonly known by his title and surname, Reverend Mateus, and does not make a habit out of sharing the rest of his name.
Species: Demon
Gender: Male
Rank: Intera
Profession: Priest; although loosely based on it, he is very much not catholic anymore.
Original Power: Reality Warping [Known as 'Deal making', requires soul fragments/energy to work.]
Power Gained After Joining The Cult: Pyrokinesis; the flames in question always bright blue.
Power changes after promotion: Better control over already existing powers; i.e. more "stability" in using them and less energy required for such.
Additional abilities/strengths: Enhanced senses, possesses the ability to conceal himself as human at will [part of the Reality Warping business; uses up reserves as a fuel, and requires him to constantly focus on the glamour]. Is actually venomous, but, like a snake, he can control whether he wants to give off venom or not.
Weaknesses: Holy water, salt, silver (especially silver!), exorcisms. Can be summoned and thus bound, too.
Additional handicaps: A condition similar to achromatopsia, complete colourblindness: his vision is reduced to greyscales. Paired with poor eyesight [farsighted], requires reading glasses.
Age [Appearance]: Looks like he is in his mid forties; "died" at the age of 32.
Age [Actual]: 171
Age He Joined The Cult: 170
Height: 6' 3'' [1,90m]
Skin color: Midtone dark, his current vessel being of Arabic origin.
Weight: ~195 lbs [ ~88kg]
Body Type: Rev is very tall with chest and shoulders being on the broader side, muscles subtle and streamlined. He's well-defined but not quite muscular; soft in places but not quite chubby either. Definitely fuzzy.
Eyes: Yellow irises with slit pupils
Hair: Midtone brown, slight reddish hue with grey temples, always a ruffled mess, wavy curls. Has a chin beard, sometimes likes to grow it out on the sides.
Scars: Countless long scars on both inner forearms and palms, willingly caused by sacrificial bloodshed. One circular scar each on the palms of his hands and feet, courtesy of Adam.
Special Physical Attributes: Large horns capturing a blue flame, fangs&forked tongue, along with sharp sets of claws. His back is covered in a thick scale armour. Occasional accumulations of scales. ― The non-human features gradually get more apparent, claws and teeth getting bigger, new scales showing up, the initial soft curve of the horns sharpening. Small horn numbs behind the big horns appearing and slowly growing out. His vessel adjusts over time, making his appearance a constantly fluctuating process.
Clothing: During service he wears a traditional cassock [depicted above], which works like a coat over a simple shirt and black trousers. On more casual occasions he sticks to a black dress shirt with the clerical collar, suit trousers, and a pair of leather shoes. Wears a cross necklace at all times.
Other: Everything set aside, the Reverend's voice is still his biggest asset. His voice itself is delightfully deep and smooth, very soothing ― A strong voice to carry the stories of his Lord, but also a gentle tone that can make someone feel comfortable enough to confess.
An undeniable Portuguese accent still clings to it, alongside British influence.
Physical Description Paragraph:
The Reverend is a fairly tall creature with a rather lithe stature and broad shoulders, skin of a dark shade. There are pale scars running all over his inner forearms and palms, a cluster of raised marks he carries proudly, for they are a sign of sacrificial devotion.
Sitting high on his head like half a crown are two long dark-red horns, ridged and capturing a bright blue flame, a collection of shiny scales gracing his temples. They are accompanied by a shock of [much to his dismay untameable] brown hair, which in turn comes along with a chin beard and soft fuzz on his jaw. Age has turned his temples grey, as well as the sideburns and occasional patches. His teeth are large and sharp, evidently designed to maul, crooked and askew in an underbite; hiding a forked tongue. There is a cold and eery glint in his golden eyes, vertical slit pupils attentive if anything.
Starting at the back of his neck, and from there on hidden beneath the cassock, are very large scales covering the greatest part of his back, a thick plated armour ― The scales are in tone with his claws, such sharp enough to part flesh from bone. Small accumulations of scales complete the picture.
The demon doesn't hesitate to get himself dirty, but is careful as to remove any traces of blood and other grime as soon as he gets the chance ― Very conscious about appearing neat and orderly, spick and span.
Family: Born human to a strictly Roman Catholic couple in North Brazil, identities unknown. One younger sister, who died at young age.
Goals: Driven by the belief in a cruel and bloody Lord, a hunger to spill blood in His name and spread The Word.
Interests: A great interest in medical procedures, and any old books he can get his claws on. Bookworm. Goes hunting for sport, with bare fangs and void of any weaponry.
Quirks: Small bodily ticks, such as tapping his fingers, tongue-clicking, and so on. Compulsive.
Habits: Neat-freak, very compulsive in the way he insists on 'fixing' askew objects [ or beings, for the matter ].
Vices: The occasional cigarette helps with the hunger. He doesn't seem to have heard of celibacy, and has a great weakness for chocolate.
Personality: Arrogant, calculating, and blood-hungry. The demon knows exactly what he wants, and expects such and no less ― Narrow-minded in his beliefs, his is the way and any interpretation differing from his own is erroneous, blasphemous. One hell of a superior complex, genuinely thinks he is a prophet. All in all a rather unpleasant person, only charming or kind if the situation demands it, or when it helps his cause. Can very well be civil, but don't count on it. Hypocrite. Master of gaslighting. Avoid.
Likes: Hunts [not only out of necessity], and is honestly big of a bookworm. Weakness for chocolate, and since he usually can't afford it you can actually bribe him with it.
Dislikes: Greatly disapproves of lying and swearing, so watch your mouth around him. Doesn't like the cold.
What Does His Room Look Like: [x] He lives in a moderate and absolutely tiny lodge about a ten minute walk away from the last outskirts of town, which in turn is another fifteen minutes from the church in the woods he calls his own. His home itself is compulsively neat and orderly, not a single object astray, albeit practically filled with books already gathering in stacks on the ground. Simple but comfortable with plenty of wood, most of the furniture is old ― the more worn pieces even showing claw marks. The bed alone already takes up a great part of the main room.
The Church: A small and rather run-down looking building a good walk into the woods, located in a clearing close by a lazy brook. There are vines climbing up the stone walls, and the yellow-and-red windows seem hazed, all in all a modest and almost forgotten looking house of prayer [X].
The inside matches the outside, being of an equally small space with wooden rafters and a few lonely rows of benches; blank stone walls, a simple altar [X ; Art will follow]. ― Such is, if you are not a member of the cult.
For cultists, when they step through the oak doors, will be met with a physically impossible display: An interior much, much bigger than the building could possibly allow. A sight like a small cathedral, long rows of benches and golden stained glass windows reaching way up, the ceiling too high to be illuminated by the countless blue-flamed candles scattered across the hall, ornate carvings losing themselves in darkness. Marble floor and stone walls, arches resting on great pillars, a magnificent display of Gothic revival arts [X ; Art will follow]. Sometimes non-cultists find themselves stumble through the doors into the wrong halls, although they are seldomly to be heard of again.
Preferred Food Source: Can stomach human food, but prefers raw and bloody meat ― fur included.
Group Dynamics: Doesn't work well in groups, but has quite a way with words and speeches, a silver-tongue so to speak.
Friends: Ty, Grim, Aim, Rho, Jeu, Gabriel
Allies: Adam
Rivals: Aim, Jinx
Enemies: Cain
Public situation: Despite the townspeople generally knowing about the monsters that roam the area, they do not count the Reverend as one of them ― For all they know, partly thanks to the glamour spell, he is as human just as their next neighbour, and Rev is going to great lengths to ensure that. He does not want for the congregation to be scared away by a pair of horns.
What Does He Consider His Position In The Cult: 'Shepherd of the lost lambs', 'Voice of The Lord', 'That pretentious bastard over there'
What Does He Do For The Group: He shrives to those who wish to, and conducts divine service. Solely Christian, no association with the Cult pantheon.
How He Joined The Cult: Heard of whispered rumours and shamefaced admissions in the confessional. Eventually decided to look further into matters, and before he knew any better it was too late to turn around.