Post by Nicolas Gideon Rorhelm on Sept 11, 2009 1:44:39 GMT -5
nicolas gideon rorhelm.
t w e n t y e i g h t. m a l e. s o c i o p a t h. d e m o n.
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WHAT CAN YOU DO?When man thinks of demons their minds conjure up images of imps with pitchforks dancing around their master while the flames lick at their crimson bodies. What man seems to ignore are the warnings given to them about demons in holy writings that most humans wave off as superstition, it is this miscalculation that Nicolas thrives off of. Even though he keeps his true nature hidden, for the most part, he uses his human vessel to lure in other humans for the sport of the kill. Usually rather choosy on what shell he chooses to inhabit he picks the finest man has to offer, usually picking soldiers for their physical strength and lack of smarts. From years of overtaking and disposing of bodies Nicolas, or more acurately Gideon has learned how to quickly overtake a prone human mind, usually one distracted by some carnal sin [lust, greed, power, etc].
Outside of a human shell Gideon is nothing more then a melevolant spirit that has a taste for tormenting unsuspecting humans. He can't do much in this form and what he can do is usually classified as the work of a ghost. It is when he occupies a human shell that his powers are amplified only depending on the level of control he has over that mind. If he only manages a half-posession of the body then Gideon's power is weakened and the posessed human will only recieve some aspects of his power such as increased strength and speed, increased rage and an increased sex drive. The demon goes after weaker minds because of this fact, particularly fond of the vain, the proud, low ranking members of the military, actors, models and some senators.
There are two carnal sins that Gideon draws most of his power from; wrath and lust. His powers are based upon those two almost wholly. Gideon's powers that manifest inside of Nicolas' body are:
- Enhanced, but not superhuman, strength
- Enhanced, but not superhuman, speed
- Seduction
- Ability to sense other supernatural beings through their blood
- Allure
- Spark :: If provoked he can implant rage into the open and prone minds of those around him, this rage doesn't stop until they've incapacitated the target Gideon chooses. This is a power he usually uses at bars for the fun of it to ignite the flames of drunken revelry. He can only use this on one person within a 15 foot radius.
- Singe :: Used after he's finished with a hapless victim he can singe the wound, singing it, stopping any more unneccesary bleeding and leaving an unmistakable burn that usually can't be explained. He does this when he really wants to make an impression with a corpse, or during torture when he just wants to satisfy those sadistic urges he finds himself experiencing every now and then. This must be in direct contact with human skin.
- Venom :: His saliva is a nuerotoxic venom that paralyzes the victim if large quantities are consumed into the body. While not fatal it does cause temporary paralysis that gives Nicolas enough time to incapacitate his victims. Is only applicable to humans, does not work on other supernaturals.
Other visual changes that occur to Nicolas to show that the demon has either been agitated or is using one of the spells above are:
- Completely blacked out eyes
- Claw like hands, talons nearly.
TELL US ALL ABOUT YOU!Created out of spite of the Lord by the first traitor, Lucifer, Gideon was born to torment and destroy that which God loved most, humans. Out of all the demons Lucifer created, Gideon is fiercly loyal to his mission to the point of extremist values, in every sense he is a terrorist for Satan and he loves his job with all of his might. The first time he walked among the humans was in the guise of a Babylonion soldier, battle hardened and strong, what his body excelled in his mind lacked and the oaf was easily overtaken by the cunning demon. For 4 years he trounced through Babylon and the surrounding Mesopotamian kingdoms, raping, killing and having one hell of a time, that was before a fellow soldier caught on to their companion's bloodlust and killed the mortal body, not knowing what he unleashed upon the world...
For years the demon waited, over took and was expelled from various human shells from century to century, his tours on the earthly plane not lasting more then a few years, but those few years he was there he left a lasting impression. His name became synonomous with destruction and the demon loved everry minute of it. His current shell was not just chosen just because he fit the usual qualifications of dumb-witted soldier with a large sex life, no, this man Nicolas Rorhelm summoned him. Just before he turned 20 and was forced into basic training by is father Nicolas turned to a cult that didn't know half the power they were using. Instead of putting a curse upon his father for pressuring him into this life, Nicolas Rorhelm's soul never lived on, instead it was crushed under the demon's drive to posess Nicolas and without any resistance Gideon did and he has been living happily within the blonde haired, blue eyed man for the past 8 years.
While like most of his shells before he found Nicolas, he is strikingly handsome, carved out of a block of muscle that ripples below porcelain skin with each and every movement. At full height he stands about 6'2'' he looks down on most men with not just pride but also contempt. A fine tuned body that was meant to help the army on the front lines is now serving the demon's purposes of luring hapless humans, making them commit sins they've only dreamt about and then kill them before they can even think to repent. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it. Because he was able to posess Nicolas in ideal circumstances his powers are slightly stronger then what they would be in a normal human, this also means that the demon's true personality is also shining just as brightly.
While most human psychologists would label him as a freak, he is a sociopath to the tee of the word, manipulative, power hungry, angry, addicted to sex, he's the model sociopath while also being the spokesperson for sadists and masochists alike. When he indulges in killing humans he makes them suffer and feel every minute of their prolonged deaths. He can be fairly creative with how he leaves his victims, usually posing them holding organs most people never realize they have all seemingly burned out of their guts by some unholy force. As the time for the final battle approaches so does the ferocity and frequency of his kills, he uses them as a sign to the soldiers of heaven, a message that in the coming war they can expect the same carnage to fall upon the heads of the humans they will so viciously defend.
Likes: Death, Destruction, Heavy Metal, Sex, Blood, Watching other men kill each other, Women, Watching humans die, Causing pain to others, Watching his shell bleed, Tormenting the innocent, Making the innocent fall from grace, Leading sheep astray, Being a wolf in sheeps clothing.
Dislikes: God, Angels, Life, Man, Hunters, Any that try to defy him, Other sadists, Losing, Vampires, Witches, Werewolves and any other supernatural being, Catholicism.wow, i'm glad to be joining URBAN ARCANA. my name just so happens to be rosie, and the celebrity who i am using just so happens to be Alexander Skarsgard. i've been doing this for seven and a half years, so i pretty much know how this all works.
Long, spectral shadows streatched out and away from the dying sun, straining to return to the protection the darkness provided. It was in these final moments that the sun unleashed it's most ferocious volley of attacks. It's dying rays piercing through even the darkest shadow, but then again she's not the sort of star to go down quietly. This battle was waged daily, high above the heads of the humans that dared to call the polluted penninsula that Gotham City now sits on, most never got to see the brilliance of the sun's final burst of glory, not now when the sky was guarded by the city's silent sentinels. Under the overbearing shadows of gotham's skyscrapers, night fell long before the sun had retreated to it's fox hole in the western sky. If it wasn't for the reflection of the bleeding disk that had once brought the city life in the millions of windows that compromised the faces of Gotham's permanent guardians, most inhabitents would be fooled to thinking that night had descended upon them, a trick the shadows [ and the monsters that lurked within them ] longed to play on it's unwillingy prey. As the shadows deepened with each passin gmoment so the more desperate the citizens of Gotham became to scurry into their suburban homes. To most outsiders the nightly journey home was a time to relax, to unwind from what was undoubtedly a stressful day, unlike the average man, woman and child of Gotham, the outsider was unaware of the monsters that lurked within the shadows. And, like the well-mannered hosts they are, the citizenry of Gotham rarely takes the time out of their own schedules to warn the outsiders. Survival was what mattered in this city, and everyone knew that if you walked outside after the sun had finally dipped below the horizon that not only were you an easy target, you were a mere fraction of the city's nightly offering of blood to it's predators. But dusk did not deter every citizen, there were a few who still braved the shadows for reasons only known to themselves and whatever strange following tagged along with them. These stray few usually haunted Gotham's downtown, staying close to the safety of the harsh neon lights like a moth to a warm flame. These men and women were either the rich and their own armada of bodyguards, or those that were protected, not by others but by blood and name. Only the insane ventured outside the haze of light and music, or they at least wanted you to believe them to be insane..
As night finally began to settle over Gotham's largest cemetary a sleek black BMW M6 rumbled through the otherwise quiet edifaces. The car was an unmistakable badge of wealth, from the world-recognized badge on the hood to the glossy and unmarred paint an aura of confidence flowed off of it with each new rumble from the massive engine. The reaction from the living onlookers that have the pleasure to gaze upon this gift from the car gods, think one of two things, Bruce Wayne or Mob, they were the only two that would be seen in such a flashy car, but both were far from the truth. From inside the heated, leather embossed cabin of the car it looked as if the silent faces of the various statues and angels that dotted the cemetary's skyline was staring down the car, as if trying to make it and it's driver turn the other way..But that wasn't happening, not tonight. As the car made it's way deeper into the cemetary the magic of the place seemed to silence the characteristic grumble of restless horses, wayward spirits seemed to guide the travelers closer towards their destination acting as ferrymen on this gravel and still somewhat smaller version of the river Styx. Finally the car came to a halt just past one of the larger mausoleums in the whole cemetary, in the imposing shadow of an ivy covered gate that marked an older section of the cemetary, a section that contained the most famous of names and even those that are so worn from time that not even their ghosts couldn't understand the faded words.
Silently the door of the sleek speed machine opened, and instead of a small man with glasses, wearing various racing enthusiast parapheneilia, the smooth, sculpted leg of a woman braved the shadows beyond. Slowly Andrea unfolded herself from the car, her eyes were locked forward, staring beyond the gate to what lurked beyond. She stepped aside and closed the door softly as to not disturb the countless residents this cemetary housed. Andrea had always had a special respect for the dead, whenever she hit a rough patch as she was attending Gotham University, she would walk to the cemetary and to the modest plot her dear mother Victoria now rested in, there she would stand for hours and talk to her mother, even though she never answered back it was still comforting. There was something about talking to the dead that made a hectic situation seem more relaxed, maybe it was the cemetary setting, maybe it was actually one of the stone faced angels reaching out and comforting her. Andrea would never know until she crossed that threshold herself..Steadily she made her way up the slight incline, eyes locked onto a point that was near invisible, unlike the massive monument to the Waynes. She paused next to the martyr's graves her eyes scanning the well kept marble, wondering if it was the butler that came out here weekly to maintain their memory, or if it was instead the son. She sneered at the thought of Bruce Wayne, but now wasn't the time to think about an arrogant playboy.
It only took a few more steps to reach her destination, a small slab of granite that marked the place where the first corner of her world was ripped away to reveal the dark destiny beneath it. When she saw the weeds that were growing over the engraved letters she sighed to hersef, kneeling down next to her mother's grave, "I knew I should have came yesterday before they attempted to mow the lawn..." Andrea let another sigh escape her before she tossed the weeds aside and stood up, brushing her hands off, "Bet you two would have told the guy a few choice words if you would have had been there, huh?"
If Andrea would have been paying more attention to her surroundings she would have sensed that she wasn't alone, but that's the sort of feeling one expects from a cemetary at dusk...Andrea stared forward, her ice blue eyes going cold and distant a look she usual hid behind a grim mask that was soon to be feared by those that were still responsible for her father's death. She took a breath before continuing, "I've kept my promise, to both of you.." She looked down at the lettering, there was only one name on the headstone but two bodies shared the same ground, one was her murdered father. "But it will take time to complete, something that there is plenty of..." She lowered her voice to a low whisper almost as if her sub-concious was aware of another living soul within the cemetary's walls, "That and blood..."
did i mention this application template was created by JESSICA. She was bored, and felt inspired. So yeah, credit is due where it is due. She goes by GAGA @ CAUTION. Not that it matters since she rarely posts anything there.
