carnagecarnival: Haircut (For that stolen heart.)
Player Name: Fritz
Preferred Pronouns?: They/them
Player Contact: Aim @ Dumbhippiedkid [plurk.com profile] Dumbhippiedkid
Other characters in play? Hzee is dropped, so no.

Character Name: The Grand Highblood / Kurloz Makara / The Initiate Fraysong (Canon title/canon name/headcanon title for him pre-ghb)
Canon: Homestuck
Game Transplant: The Games
Original App: here Corrected & more filled out history is here
Game Summary: "The Games is an action packed, panfandom RP based off Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games trilogy, where, instead of citizens of the 12 Districts of Panem playing in the Arena(s) as tributes, characters from other fandoms are reaped in their stead."

How long was your character in Game: May 5th 2013 and on ( 1 year, 8 months)
History of Character in their Game: Here. He'll be coming in between his death in the Space Arena + the dream 4th wall event in WTL.

How did they change from their canon personality wise (Please explain what caused it to happen?)

-He got over his issues with rebellion and thinking they were all traitorous scumbags thanks to Disciple (who reached out to him and told him the spectrum could be made with pigments, not blood. Her reaching out and losing his arguments with her showed him that he was wrong about their nature), Psiioniic (who's care and affection made him grow attatched, and with that attachment in place, he began to doubt his old misconceptions, thus turning "he was wrong but he learned" to "he was never wrong, he didn't desrve what happened to him") and of course, in becoming a rebel himself, he got to see first hand what it's like.


-His hatred of Signless was worked out with Kankri (who showed him that Signless's default was not as liar and snickering villain, but a person. This happened when Kankri used Seer Of Blood abilities on him and found out Signless and Initiate's old bond.), Terezi (who promised to help work things out with he and Signless, and later became their auspistice.), and Signless himself (after several talks and fights, wherein they came to an understanding of what really happened and slowly started on overcoming their issues).


-His Culling obsession was quelled by Terezi, (who told him of guilt and all it's weight and who each life mattered), Eponine (who was deeply upset when he culled her friend and who inspired some guilt in him, with it following Terezi's talk and Eponine having once been a friend), and Charlie + his Avoxing (He was avoxed for trying to attack a peacekeeper and heavily conditioned not to harm or kill, making the whole thing a very feared act, near impossible. When he killed Charlie to save Terezi, it caused a severe meltdown, and since then culling has been a non-option).


-His old issues with his lusus were quelled when he reconciled with the old goat during the family event, getting one last moment together before the goat was taken away. Sigma Klim also helped, taking Initiate in and showing that parents can make mistakes, it wasn't Initiate's fault, and he's still worthy of care.


-When Kankri first told him his other/past life was a mute, the Initiate became incredibly aware of the avoxes around him in a way he hadn't before. Over time, this grew, esepecially when the Beforan Kurloz showed up for the family event. He took to symapthizing with avoxes, developing fond acquiantance with one, Cecil Palmer. Kurloz showed up again, and very soon later, the Initiate himself was made an avox. He met other avoxes and operated as one. With his care spread to all these strangers, he developed an empathy for people beyond himself in general. This empathy extends to people like Kevin, who's fear he felt but he chose not to help, leaving the Initiate with guilt, then an investment in doing right by others where he could.


-He's been scolded on the differences between killing children v.s adults by Claudia. He later discussed it more calmly with Thor. He's starting to understand a little, and respects that humans feels some need to protect perceived innocence. This adds to his care for those like Sandy and Pruna, as well as his descendant, as these human ideals are pushed on him and his fondness for these youths grow. He takes it upon himself to "big brother" people despite having no concept of what that really means.


-The Helmsman, Reglare, Terezi, and the capitol giving him a biography of himself all lead to his knowing his dark future. Between his fondness for the Helmsman and for Terezi, he starts finding reasons to leave that future behind, not wanting to be one who hurts them.


-Talking with Courfeyrac, when Courfeyrac would ask his opinion and thoughts, he realised talking things out calmly would actually get him somewhere-- even with those rebellious types.


-People like Clara, Albert, Sam, and more, made him feel like less of a monster. At various points they talked him through things, telling him he deserved better, that he was truly destined for cruelty, he could be good, and if he wanted it, he was well on his way already.


-When capitol gave biographies of the tributes, he read both his and his Alternate's books. He read the early parts of their childhoods and realised (made him remember) he wasn't always as terrible as he'd been and it was in him to be good. With Avox conditioning (forcing him to be meek and quiet and unobtrusive) directly clashing with enforced Alternian behaviours (boisterous, cruel, etc.), both parts began to break each other down, leaving a fragile and fractured person, but still one who was more himself than he'd been. He is more willing to show his genuine feelings, less willing to put up personas.


-Being a former avox makes him incredibly sensitive to being given commands. Putting him into a spot that inspires misery will have him settle back into a subervient catering role. He's obsessed with keeping things clean and gets uncomfortable making or leaving a mess.


-Because of all his work to be better, he has a lot of guilt and very actively keeps trying to be better. Thanks to Terezi's guidance, he knows not to simply offer his life to those he thinks have right to kill him. He is quick now to apologize, where before he would never. This comes of many rounds of recognizing wrongs within the games.


-The kindness of the other Tributes showed him that being a decent person can be pretty alright, not something to be afraid of. The Helmsman gave him his first true friendship and a reason to reach out to others again. Terezi gave him reason to believe that not everyone would leave and betray him at the drop of a hat, when she came to him after a fight, inspiring him when she said the reason she still believed in him was because he had stayed for her when she was down. Hearing those words, he realised walking away would make him just like those he perceived to have abandoned him and he chose not to be like that. He was later convinced by her that even if he lost people, it would still be worth the risk and worth it to stay good (not a monster).

How did they change from their canon physically (Please explain what caused it to happen?): Very little. Characters are restored after each death, thus ageing has not been a factor. At the moment, his hair is cut short (with small braids at the front) and his horns have been sawed off right at the base.
Powers: Chucklevoodoos and lifespans described here.
Possessions: facepaint, four tribbles, several piles of small animal bones and bone creations, a necklace with interlocked circles of red-teal-indigo, a golden goat's skull, and a small tube of makeup, and a little jar piece with a red plant inside. A skull ring, an indigo cloak, armor made from bones, and a variety of outfits including his subjugglator uniform, and a number of other Capitol designed variations and outfits.

Please provide three samples from your previous game, at least one will have to be third person with context:
Sample One: Disciple changing his mind and reaching for him as he fell
Sample Two: Initiate hosts a shitty proxy-Carnival
Sample Three: Running into Terezi after his Avoxing
carnagecarnival: (Default)
[He addresses the network, facing them dead on, skull paint done with such care one might suspect a stylist to be responsible. His voice fluctuates in volume between sentences, not to the fault of the video, but thanks to his own way of speaking. It's hard to discern his expression beyond the paint.]
 
A game was to be played. A motherfucking request unto I was made. Played. And motherfucking won it was requested to motherfucking be. No dogma, will I preach to you now; motherfucking end will be seen, one way or other. Not unused to this shit, the sling and throw of tickets skyward to scatter on a hundred fucking unfortunates below. So I offer chance into carnival by hands of a true ninja, a future ring master as your guide I can be.
 
[He bows, just slightly, in a similar manner to the way an actual ring master would, but his eyes remain focused on the screen.]
 
Talk, a troll shall, of things they understand nothing of. Brothers and sisters, false ninjas shall preach at what they know not of how to preach. not of how to preach. Sing wrongs; speak the spurious; weave fallacy so sweet like the most ambrosial bread and wine. Not deaf, this motherfucker is, to the rabble. Not motherfucking deaf is this motherfucker. But it shall not be I, who remains the unreceptive, false, veiled in cape and crown of Milenko itself, no. not I.
 
May not yet be high priest, but scripture holds true to each worthy clap and claw that places itself upon it. Know and hear them true, I do. Palpate, the mirthful did give to me and to the worthy I shall pass on its truths. Through faithful maw to willing hear duct the minstrel's songs shall be passed. If any among have within their pumpers the wish and desire, in their guts, the nerve, and their minds, the want for the sublime, then let holy will be done.
 
Those found before me who mean to insult in greatest measure for such gifts shall be flayed. Motherfucking flesh peeled from bone those who speak ignominy to my face will be. Gutless heretics need not attend nor make sound.
 
[He gives long pause then, and when he continues once more, the growl that had been building beneath his words becomes all the more evident.]
 
I preach for the holy church of the mirthful messiahs, the rise of the minstrels, and the paradise to come. I preach of the beauty, life, and many motherfucking colors of cessation's kiss. Only to enlighten does a motherfucker seek and only to the deserving ticket takers. Be aware of this and make choice on for a motherfucker's own self. You will refer to him as your preacher, the initiate, fraysong. And in magnanimous gesture, he offers only chance at quick means for those who seek on to be born-again as one of the true family, my brothers and sisters soon to be. He offers word on death to those who would die in agony on their own blasphemy. I will see you carnival bound should you only make onto accept it and know your curtain's pull and drop can both be without pain. Or, a motherfucker can see the motherfucking end without, ticket ripped and the unrighteous sent to rot outside the paradise, death without festival. But all will meet the ticket taker as all will face their terminus true. Choice is motherfucking yours. I will await the righteous few.
 
[Abruptly, the feed cuts out.]
carnagecarnival: (Default)
OUT of CHARACTER
Name: Fritz
Other characters: none

IN CHARACTER
Name: The Grand Highblood (will be referred to in-game as "The Initiate", "Fraysong", or "Initiate Fraysong" having not earned the title of Grand Highblood at the point I am pulling him from. His true name is Kurloz Makara, but he will not use this even if others may, the Capitol included).
Fandom: Homestuck
Canon point/AU: Late teens (human years), before he manages to become the actual Grand Highblood.
Journal: [personal profile] carnagecarnival
PB: Fanart
History:  Unfortunately incomprehensive wiki-link. As his history is largely unknown, I will be writing out a speculative history below which will be the back-story off which I play him.

The Grand Highblood (GH) is one among twenty four other children-- eleven others of which were in his session-- who played the game of Sgrub, a paradox locked game that invokes the end of the world and forces children to engage in it in attempt to try to create a new universe. It was in his first life that this game was played by him and the eleven others of his group. This session was doomed to failure thanks to their ineptitude in battle as a peaceful race of trolls, the strict laws of paradox space forcing their hand, and the manipulation of their team by "demons" which Kurloz Makara had thought then to be the Mirthful Messiahs, the gods of his religion. 

It is said that he had not been so manipulative and sinister as he became until after having a terrible nightmare vision that caused him to scream so loud, he completely deafened his then-matesprit (his girlfriend) Meulin Leijon. Out of guilt, he bit off his own tongue and sewed his mouth shut, rendering himself mute for that lifetime. It was after this, that his actions and motives began to run down a more sinister course. Although he would appear to harbour affection still for Meulin (creating their own form of sign language together to speak in) and Mituna Captor his Moirail (another quadrant, a form of troll romance, a moirail being essentially one's non-sexual life partner) he ultimately sought the end for all on his team and would control and -it is implied- even harm them in order to bring about the "second death" in his religion.

For the GH, this story would end upon scratching their session, erasing this life from his memory forever and allowing him to start anew on the murderous planet of Alternia. He would begin his time deep in it's past, switching the place of descendent and ancestor, with his relation, Gamzee Makara who would this time play the game in Kurloz's place. Unlike his former world, Beforus, Alternia was one of cruelty and death. There would be strong belief in survival of the fittest, and it's caste system based on the hues of one's blood (those in the more purple end of the spectrum being better off, and those in the redder end, much less so) would be harsher than ever. His religion, the juggalo-like Cult of the Mirthful Messiahs, would become even more deeply encroached in horrific practices, it's believers seen as some of the most terrifying and unstable trolls of their kind. It was however, still a clean slate, and whatever nightmare influenced by "The Angel of Double Death" (Lord English) he'd had, would not hold the same influence in this life. Of course, his faith in this life would be as present as ever.

As just a wriggler-a child- the GH would be given two things; the hatch name of Kurloz Makara, as in his past life, and a Lusus, a guardian creature meant to raise and protect the child it is charged with, his being a Sea-Goat. Unfortunately, Kurloz would find, like his descendent Gamzee Makara would many years later, Sea-Goat's make for poor guardians. Highly temperamental creatures whom were always gone away to sea, Kurloz would be forced to care for himself alone. Because of the many threats that would hang over him- adult trolls looking for a quick kill, young trolls looking to steal his home or things, seadwellers angry he find place at their shores, great beasts, deadly sunlight, and scours of undead also among the day- he would be forced to learn very quickly the concept of kill or be killed, and perhaps more than any other troll, he'd craft an art from it. He was known to paint his walls with blood and suspected to have made armour made from bones in his later years as highblood-- his fancy for such decorating would have begun here, when it was important for him to find ways to warn away threats. He would use the corpses of the attackers he claimed in any way he could. A large part of him would be driven to anger at his lusus, a desperate need within him to prove himself and show he could get by just fine without the goat, perhaps enough to drown out the hurt and humiliation of having to do so in the first place. Still, although he would not have had to fight so much to stay alive had he not chosen to remain living on the shore-- one the most dangerous places it is possible to be for a land-dwelling troll-- he was determined to stay and wait for his Sea-Goat's return anyway. He would gain deep feelings of abandonment and an insatiable longing for care and affection which would carry well past young-age.

In the absence of any real positive contact, Kurloz buries himself in his faith and his strong fondness for literature, art, and culture (something carried from his past life, in which he had loved the troll version of Hamlet so much that he was shown to have owned and happily worn a Hamlet prince costume). He would paint his face every morning, something all followers of the faith were known to do. He’s just a raggedy, ill-cared-for, young kid when he takes up going to church, which in Alternia, meant joining the killer clown cult with its social hierarchy built upon fake families, much blood, and bones-- really, it was everything he could've asked for. Almost.

At the start, he's not very well-liked. He's very young, appears a little gross (the sense of fashion he had in his previous life doesn't carry as well, having not had any direction in that sense), and he doesn’t appear to take things seriously due to his capricious and childish nature. The latter is where they are wrong. He takes the scripture more seriously than anything. He’s probably more knowledgeable of it than some of the highest priests of the time. He’s pretty unhappy with the early church in truth, feeling a lot of them are nothing more than unrighteous sinners riding on the backs of the messiahs for mere personal glory while giving nothing in return. Still, he sees potential in the church that the church- full of those much older than he who don't plan on leaving their seats for a child- does not see in him. He knows that if he appeals to those in the greater reaches, in the higher ranks, and shows his skill in the cull and cognition of the scripture, he will be able to climb the ranks (and bodies) with ease on his way to the top, where he can then help the Subjugglators come to be many times more ruthless, powerful, and everything the mirth worshippers should be, in his eyes. With time and age, the church comes to realise all that he has to offer, taking quiet interest in him that he in turn uses to gain their respect, and his prowess as both a master of cull and a leader, becomes evident.

When a troll becomes an adult, they are meant to discard their hatch name and replace it with a title (eight letters for each) for which they will become known. However, GH bites off more than he can chew without being scoffed at, when he tries for a title before adulthood. He appeals for the title of The Reverent, in respect to his gods, and his deep belief. However, being a child still, the older priests disregard this and name him The Initiate. As a troll's first title is generally selected by their peers, he begrudgingly accepts this for the time. (The second title, one composed of two words and eight letters, he does choose for himself; Fraysong. This is his less formal title and what he would be called by those who know him better. A troll's hatch name is saved only for those in quadrants- up to five trolls at a time, with two for the ashen romantic relationship, and one for each of the other four- or those who knew the troll as child). It will be around this point from which I will be taking him, though his tale stretches on for much longer.

Past this time, he eventually does grow to become the Grand Highblood; the high priest of the cult, leader of the subjugglators, chief enforcing officer to the Empress and her second in command. He was known to be brutal, terrible, and very powerful. His death is unstated and it is quite possible that he not only lived long past the Summoner's rebellion, after which it became law for all adult trolls to leave their home planet for good, but it is possible that he did not meet his end in this life until the Vast Glub, a psychic attack by a great eldritch beast called Gl'bgolyb-- once lusus to the Empress herself-- that became the death of all trolls but the twelve who escaped into Sgrub's worlds, and the Empress herself. He would have lived through, and have helped stopped, two of the greatest rebellions in history, those being the Summoner's rebellion, and another, in his earlier years, built around a troll called the Signless. 

The Highblood would find, very early, that the Signless's rebellion would haunt both he, and the Empress's regime, long after it's stamping out. Through surviving trolls such as the Psiioniic (Once Mituna Captor) who was grafted to the Empress's ship as helmsman until the Vast Glub, the Disciple (Meulin Leijon) and Darkleer, both of whom evaded capture by the subjugglators longer than nearly any other trolls. The Summoner too,  who's inspiration to revolt is heavily speculated to have come from the Signless's words, and the Neophyte Redglare who worked under the Highblood and was secretly a follower of the Signless's ideals. The Signless himself, and the GH, would only meet only a select few times, under strained circumstances, before finally, the Signless would be captured and publicly executed. Their first meetings began when Kurloz was much younger, less than 13 years of age (6 sweeps). It was nothing more than a passing between the two, but one that left enough of an impression on isolated young Kurloz that by their next passing, a year or "sweep" later, Kurloz recognized him. 

The Signless was a troll of bright red mutant blood who preached heretical ideas based on visions of the past life he, Kurloz, and the other trolls shared (known then, as Kankri Vantas). By their second meeting, in a city centre, the young Signless had gathered a small group of trolls to listen to him tell his outlandish ideas of peace and kindness. Curious about such an odd troll, Kurloz listened in, even as it conflicted with his beliefs. They were not close, but Kurloz hadn't had much anyone else for company then, and even as he stood before Kankri, very clearly having killed before evident in just his appearance, the young mutant listened to him in return. And so, Kurloz agreed to at some point meet with him again. Their third meeting was [erhaps more a debate than a discussion, but somehow, they enjoyed themselves; Kurloz had begun attending the church by this time and was also aware by that time that Kankri was abnormal for reasons outside of his blasphemous ideals, but it didn't occur to Kurloz to cull the boy who so willingly spoke with him just then. 

They arranged for another private meeting at a different time, but due to a sudden influx highblood trolls, the illegal mutant, Kankri, was forced to flee before having the chance to speak to him. Kurloz, took this personally and their chance at friendship fell apart. The next time they saw each other, another whole sweep if not two in between, the Signless had become truly impassioned with his dream of peace for Alternia and was now in the habit of speaking his ideas to large groups of trolls at a time, while Kurloz had become entirely wrapped up in the church. Kurloz stopped for only a moment during of Kankri's speach, catching his eye with a look that would make it clear he did not forgive him. They would not speak again until after Kurloz became the Grand Highblood, after the point I am taking GH from, and it would be the final time they spoke before the Grand Highblood would oversee the Signless's execution. The Signless's words, his attempt at friendship with Kurloz, and the fact that his message would live on long after his death and find it's way through others back to the Grand Highblood, would be the greatest test in faith he would ever know himself to face. But, considering the Signless was meant to be wiped from history, how much this would mean would greatly depend.

Presentation: Kurloz, The Initiate, is capricious and unpredictable, not above contradiction in his acts, for he believes, in his way, that all will work as it is meant to. For all his violence and pride, at this point he is a child and will act as such, though to disrespect him would be damning. His primary goals are two; to preach what he believes is truth and one day guide the worthy in holy awakening as their priest, and his second goal? To be entertained. To him, boredom is sin and death is his playmate. He sees great beauty in it all, especially in the rainbow colours of blood that his kills leave for him to work with. He is definitely insane and would like others to believe he is too, so long as they also understand that he is still in control. His life style is his choice and he would have everyone believe he would never make a decision differently.  

He speaks in a strange way, convoluted and heavily peppered with swears and slurs, with a wide vocabulary and love for the poetic. He aims for rhythm in his words over easily parsed meaning. He will repeat a sentence just to throw the words around differently and to play around with the language. He loves to tease and taunt all who he speaks to, both with kindness and cruelty, but in plainest truth, if he doesn't find a person interesting of worthy of his time, he will generally not speak to them at all, disregarding them, threatening them, or finally killing them if he becomes too agitated. He sometimes slips from first person to second, especially if he's feeling particularly grandiose or enlightened.

Having not yet attained the title of the Grand Highblood, Kurloz strongly wishes to prove himself-- and has no doubt that he can if only given the chance. Again, the basic faces he wishes to present are that he is 1) A holy priest, a prince, and one who should be feared and respected, 2) he's a clown and the world is his carnival party. The Hunger Games would be entirely his element if it weren't that he were at the mercy of another (the gamemakers). It is in fact something he could enjoy a great deal, but again, only if he weren't played as a pawn, but as weapon, and one with a mind of his own. He is eternally bloodthirsty and if one wished him to show his teeth, he would generously reveal to them every single last fang and claw, though it might be the last thing they see.

His faith means everything to him, to the point that he would ask for a means to paint his face before he'd ask for food or water in the games. He will think himself above nearly anyone he encounters, not because his blood caste dictates he is higher, but because he believes himself better for the simple matter that he is closer to his gods (though he is capable of ignoring the rabble of the faithless with a scoff or an eyeroll at their sure ignorance). There is absolutely nothing in existence that could shake him completely of his faith, games or otherwise. The worst anyone could do, is insult it, and that tends more to be a problem for them than him in the end. He would like very much for people to believe it is the only thing he needs.

Motivations: Unfortunately for, GH, The Initiate, as much as his faith enlightens him and means everything to him, it doesn't stop him from being occasionally bitter and lonely. Or having violent mood swings. Or from sometimes losing control of his actions due to episodes of extreme rage. He is not always as comfortable in his insanity as he would like to pretend he is. 

His issues of abandonment run extremely deep. A good portion of his need to prove himself is born from this. He pours over the reasons he is left behind or betrayed when he believes he has been, and never stops looking for things to blame. He feels things intensely, loving and hating people with all his being, often simultaneously. He does not stop loving a person once he's started either, even if he kills the person himself. He literally will carry and hang onto the corpses of those he cared about in any sense of the word. He is very, very angry inside, and very sick in the mind, even by troll standards. 

He is not in-genuine in how he presents himself. He wants everything he says he does, all the blood and guts and glory that goes with it-- he just doesn't give the whole story and would rather believe that the other part of the story doesn't exist. He is also aware that some of the things he wants, he can't exactly have living the way he does, and this too adds to him pushing feelings down and aside. He likes to think sometimes that it is only time keeping these things from him, for surely when all the prophecies come true, and the paradise planet he believes in comes about, he will be given all he's wanted and more.

Deep, deep down, where even he isn't sure it exists, he has doubts. He will never think his faith is a lie, but he may wonder if certain facts have been twisted. Or, if they can be twisted to so that certain things unavailable to him in his current standing may become so.  His cravings for affection, where he has been afforded none in his life so far, remain strong. If there were a way for him to get this and be able to give it in return, with an individual who wouldn't further foster his brutality, he would not be entirely beyond saving. At least, not yet.

SAMPLES
Thread:  [He addresses the network, facing them dead on, skull paint done with such care one might suspect a stylist to be responsible. His voice fluctuates in volume between sentences, not to the fault of the video, but thanks to his own way of speaking. It's hard to discern his expression beyond the paint.]

A game is to be played. A MOTHERFUCKING REQUEST UNTO I WAS MADE. Played. AND MOTHERFUCKING WON IT WAS REQUESTED TO MOTHERFUCKING BE. No dogma will I preach at you; motherfucking end will be seen, one way or other. NOT UNUSED TO THIS SHIT, THE SLING AND THROW OF TICKETS SKYWARD TO SCATTER ON A HUNDRED FUCKING UNFORTUNATES BELOW. So I offer chance into carnival by hands of a true ninja, a future ring master as your guide, I can be.
 
[He bows, just slightly, in a similar manner to the way an actual ring master would, but his eyes remain focused on the screen.]
 
TALK, A TROLL SHALL, OF THINGS THEY UNDERSTAND NOTHING OF. Brothers and  sisters, false ninjas shall preach at what they know not of how to preach. SING WRONGS; SPEAK THE SPURIOUS; WEAVE FALLACY SO SWEET LIKE THE MOST AMBROSIAL BREAD AND WINE. Not deaf, this motherfucker is, to the rabble. NOT MOTHERFUCKING DEAF IS THIS MOTHERFUCKER. But it shall not be i, who remains the unreceptive, false, veiled in cape and crown of Milenko itself, no. NOT I.
 
May not yet be high priest, but scripture holds true to each worthy clap and claw that places itself upon it. KNOW AND HEAR THEM TRUE, I DO. Palpate, the mirthful did give to me and to the worthy I shall pass on its truths. THROUGH FAITHFULL MAW TO WILLING HEARDUCT THE MINSTREL'S SONGS SHALL BE PASSED. If any among have within their pumpers the wish and desire, in their guts, the nerve, and their minds, the want for the sublime, then LET HOLY WILL BE DONE. 
 
Those found before me who seek to insult in greatest measure for such gifts shall be flayed. MOTHERFUCKING FLESH PEELED FROM BONE THOSE WHO SPEAK IGNOMINY TO MY FACE WILL BE. Gutless heretics need not attend nor make sound.
 
[He gives long pause then, and when he continues once more, the growl that had been building beneath his words becomes all the more evident.]
 
I PREACH FOR THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS, THE RISE OF THE MINSTRELS, AND THE PARADISE TO COME. I preach of the beauty, life, and many motherfucking colors of cessation's kiss. ONLY TO ENLIGHTEN DOES A MOTHERFUCKER SEEK AND ONLY TO THE DESERVING TICKET TAKERS. Be aware of this and make choice on for a motherfucker's own self. YOU WILL REFER TO HIM AS YOUR PREACHER, the initiate, FRAYSONG. And in magnanimous gesture, he offers only chance at quick means for those who seek on to be born-again as one of the true family, my brothers and sisters soon to be. HE OFFERS WORD ON DEATH TO THOSE WHO WOULD DIE IN AGONY ON THEIR OWN BLASPHEMY. I will see you carnival bound should you only seek to accept it and know your curtain's pull and drop can both be without pain. OR, A MOTHERFUCKER CAN SEE THE MOTHERFUCKING END WITHOUT, TICKET RIPPED AND THE UNRIGHTEOUS SENT TO ROT OUTSIDE THE PARADISE, DEATH WITHOUT FESTIVAL. But all will meet the ticket taker as all will face their terminus true. CHOICE IS MOTHERFUCKING YOURS. I will await the righteous few.

[Abruptly, the feed cuts out.]

Prose: Impress these people if you wish for them to help you live, they'd said to him. He'd laughed, loudly and in their face, split fullest mirth chuckle, flashing fang entire. He hoped them to be terrified of him. He wishes he could've tasted it, they’re fear, and if they were too stupid to know fear, he’d have graced them with holy horror like nothing their sorry carcasses ever held witness for. He itches for it still, buzzing like a tiny wounded insect in the back of his mind and beyond it. He can feel it in the tips his claws to his horns just to slip beneath every time he thinks he's gotten close enough. So sorely does he wish to tear them to bits in search of it. So badly does he want for the sweet crack of their skulls opening up to him and allowing him to find what he's lost. He would eat their innards if it would return what was rightfully his.

He stands before the Gamemakers now, looking up to them where they chatter and drink, drink and motherfucking chitter like so many squeakbeasts swarming over a discarded spill of comestible. He examines them and finds they either completely lack horns, or they are too small to be seen under their guises-- he remembers only one who had horns so short as to hide that easy. He wonders what these ones bleed.

They expect to be impressed, he was told, but he doubts it. He remembers the Holy Church closest to his home, its priests so much the same as what he sees now. The True Highest Ones had saw him worthy as he knew himself to be, great vision granted upon him and they, they and he, but the sinner falsifiers hiding within his church, and these ones now; he knew very well they did not expect to be impressed. That was the whole motherfucking point. The only ones who brought motherfuckers tests, knowing damn well that there was reason to be impressed for, was the Mirthful Two themselves. Like fuck these impious not-trolls would be seen as gods. Never by him. He would not impress them. They could rot. They could have their eyes plucked by the cawbeasts, their bones picked clean by the dead, as the fried alive in midday sun, before he would deign to impress them. 

Angels, however, he could impress. The Holy Two, he could seek to entertain, and with full reverence he could do so. 

He closes his eyes and gives his best, most gracious bow. He picks up four weapons, a short spear, two blades, and a wooden club, and with them, he juggles. He holds the image of the gamemakers in his mind, one having a wine glass held loosely in hand, standing so very close to the edge. He keeps the pattern of the weapons' dance close, preparing. He doesn't listen to whether they are wowed at all by the performance, he doesn't care. Finally, one by one, he launches all but his club. He hears them hiss through the air, hears the gamemakers scream, a glass falling and shattering, and a grin tugs at his lips. It's not as much as he hoped, but it will do. 

As the gamemakers scatter away from him, the blades and spear sticking out in their places, unkissed by flesh and blood, he moves to the fallen bits of glass and begins embedding them carefully into the club, a makeshift mace, one that fits him. He laughs and says, "Can't motherfucking be onto impressions when there's nothing good what to impress with, now can I? YOU WILL REFER TO HIM AS THE INITIATE, FRAYSONG. And never again will you suggest that any of you could possibly assist in the cull in ways that are not already known to this motherfucker."
 
He tears the room apart. He hopes they're cowering. He hopes they're furious. When all is done, he cuts himself with a bit of glass, just once, and draws a great clown smile on the floor for them to see. An indigo-purple grin of blood. He promises to himself, that it will be their color soon.

What is your character scored: Somewhere in the 10 to 12 range.

The Grand Highblood (GH) is extremely experienced in combat, and  has killed many, many deadly foes (trolls and other dangerous creatures), even at his current young age. Death does not negatively affect him very much at all; he takes pride in his skill, enjoys the task itself, and frequently uses the corpses he creates in creating paintings with the blood, crafting tools and decorations (etc) out of the bones,  or simply fixing them outside his home or church as warnings to those who dare cross him or comical amusement for those of like-minds. He is just as knowledgeable on how to keep himself hidden, however, still being young and still recognizing a combative risk when he sees one-- at least long enough for him to find a better vantage point of attack. He can survive perfectly independent of anyone, having not had a lusus/guardian to care for him when he was young, as his was nearly always out at sea (not being within a modern era of living helps this too).

His endurance is incredibly high; in a past life, one of peace even, he had bitten of his own tongue and sewn his mouth shut, without dying from either-- it would pay that in his current, much more difficult life, this endurance for pain could be stretched just as high if not higher. As a troll, and one of third highest blood caste, this too lends to his strength and endurance. He has a set of very sharp, very impressive teeth, as well as a long set of waving horns which he can and (likely) has killed with. [On the flip side, the horns would count just as well as a weakness, as they are long, therefore much easier to be snagged or to accidentally get caught by, therefore much more easy to break; this is a very painful thing for a troll and would most certainly slow him down] . He has short claws on his fingers and toes and excellent night-time vision (as a member of a nocturnal species). He is very much a predator.

Because of this same status, and the way he talks, some would make the mistake of considering him stupid, but he is far from it. As he grows up to be the second most politically powerful troll in their society, in charge of keeping a great many dangerous trolls both above and below him in line, as well as being one of the greatest warlords of many other worlds, he could not afford not to have a few things up his sleeves. He has strong tactile intelligence, and surprisingly does know how to cooperate with others in order to meet an end. In his latter age, he knows how to rally troupes and command mass armies. [That said, he is not against taking risks, even just for the sake of amusement, and this could easily count as a weakness. ] On top of this, he one day becomes a high priest (though not yet as of when I am grabbing him from) and for that, sought to make himself very well read, both of the scripture he would one day preach and of many other forms of literature and poetry which he found himself fond of. He's got a charisma to him if he can be bothered to let it show.

His greatest weakness lies in how he relates to people. He is not at all incapable of kindness and finds himself caring very deeply for other people. Unfortunately, they tend to be people he isn't meant to let live and that both his sanguinary nature and his loyalty to the empire and the church, conflict with. He can kill those he cares for and has done so before, but it damages him mentally in ways that cannot always be concealed and gradually lead him to become more closed off or more out-of-control as a person. He is also incredibly sensitive to abandonment and betrayal. To do either to him, even if unintentionally, also does a great deal of damage to his psyche. He's got a lot of loose screws as it is, no doubt. He will do things that don't make sense for reason that cannot always be parsed. Sometimes his psychosis and moods will get the best of him and he will throw tantrums and rampage; it's at this point he is at his most terrifying but also when he could be most prone to making costly mistakes. Pride too, is a thing for him and he will not tolerate disrespect any more than he will a badly told joke. Still, all through this, he manages to survive hundreds to thousands of years canonically as the secondary leader to some of the most deadly conquerors of the galaxy, so the potential for "success" in the young GH would be great-- if only he can manage to keep his deep cravings for affection under wraps. 

Because of his nature for capriciousness, I believe he could easily slide to one extreme or the other with the capitol audience. He may be seen as not much unlike a kid from the career districts but perhaps his alien-ness will show throw and intrigue them. He may win them with charisma or simply come across as arrogant. How extreme he takes to his faith, and his callousness for those he deems "heretical" may wind up turning many off to him or perhaps will be seen as a mere "quirk". His conflicting attitudes for others could also be do well or very poor for him, in terms of audience feeling. Much will depend on how things are played out.

As for powers, GH has one; the Chuckle Voodoo. It is a very cohesive ability rooted around the manipulation and control of one's fears and nightmares. He can cause paralysing terror and horrific nightmares at a wide range and over multiple people at once. Through one's fears, he can implant psychic suggestion within another person's mind to get them to do specific things he wishes. He can do so without them even having them remember what they've done or that they have been used in such a way. He can also speak to others mentally, through the use of this ability (though generally tends not to).

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The Initiate Fraysong ♑ (Young GHB)

June 2018

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