Posts by Clang

nope the trio is cancelled The_Regalia 's request

si

-throws me under the bus-

Give me a few minutes

toucant wrote:

lynton maria aziz - antagonist

LYNTON MARIA AZIZ —

x Name: lynton maria aziz, often called "lyn" but sometimes "maria" (to his distaste)

x Name Meaning: lynton— of the hillside brook, maria— the sea of sorrow/bitterness, aziz— to be powerful

x Gender: male

x Age: 22

x Sexuality: bisexual demiromantic (almost aromantic, but not quite huehuehue)

x Pronouns: he/him

x Abilities: TW FOR GORE

Desquamation— commonly called skin peeling. Lyn is able to trigger enzymes within the skin to dissolve the dermis. This causes the skin to separate from the body with air between the epidermis and subcutaneous tissue. This is a painful and rather disgusting experience as there is virtually no "fresh skin" underneath the outermost layer and therefore exposes nerve endings. The epidermis usually dries due to a lack of contact with nutrients in the form of dermis, forming a crusty but also drooping appearance on the body that can be torn away. Particularly useful in torture as it does not necessarily kill the victim, but instead offers a distasteful sight for both the tortured and anyone who happens to walk by.

Formication— the feeling of insects crawling across or underneath your skin. Although some part of him really wishes that he could make insects wander around in your body, he can only produce paresthesia (the sensations on your skin that don't have a physical cause). This is because he targets nodes and nerves within the parietal lobe of your body and spinal cord and sends incredible amounts of biological electrical impulses through them. This essentially causes traumatic nerve damage, creating these sensations and in some cases a visual stimulus of insects under skin. Again, another torture tactic but one that is far more dangerous. Victims usually try to cut themselves up to extract the "insects", be it with their own nails or weapons if there are any nearby.

Pseudo Erythromelalgia— normally, this rare condition is characterized by an intense, burning pain in extremities, along with a severe redness and increased skin temperature. However, with Lynton, he is able to make this feeling affect the entire body, causing extreme pain for his victims. This is passed through touch, as if his hand himself is like a hot iron that sparks the burning feeling.

x Role: The Instigator, Interrogator, and Torturer

---

[Place image of appearance here]

x Scars or body modifications: Lynton has a spattering of large and random burn marks across his body. He has tattoos on his neck [1][2], chest, ribcage, and arms [1][2]. Honestly, where ever there may be a place to put ink, he probably has something tattooed there.

x Height: 6'0

x Eye color: ANSWER

x Hair color: ANSWER

---

x Personality traits: Vicious, remorseless, level-headed (in even the most stressful situations), sarcastic, manipulative, two-faced, self-preservation, sweet and loving when he really wants to be (which is rarely ever), generally the asshole of the group. Does not give two shits about how you feel.

x Weaknesses: Any mention of his father (it's his only trigger), but he has an innate soft spot for children. In terms of his magical properties, the only real way to negate the effects is to soak afflicted parts in his blood. He also hates being touched around his neck and any form of gentle touch is disarming.

x Strengths: Profiling capabilities. He knows how to set someone off just by looking at their behavior for ten minutes tops. It's what earned him the title "Instigator", since he can so easily rile them up. Despite being emotionally resilient, he is also physically strong. Lyn also has difficulty feeling pain. It's not like the feeling is turned off in his body, but more like he is so used to it that he can't feel it unless he's really injured or thinking about the injury.

x Relations: Abraxas Aziz (father, 53, deceased) x Cordelia Maevan (mother, 47, alive, estranged), Ayana Aziz (sister, 16, alive, estranged), Rueben Aziz (brother, 25, alive, estranged), no romantic interests (open, though!)

x Skills: His abilities, although perhaps not as vibrant as the others in their strength, is quite... unnerving. The ability to make someone's skin molt, crawl, and burn among other cutaneous disorders proves deadly to one's psyche. A simple graze of his finger can make a hardened veteran scream with discomfort as they imagine the bodies of cockroaches stretch the surface of their skin. His remorselessness makes him an adept torturer as he is heavily mission based. Lyn's goal is to get information from is victims (or, make them pay for whatever the hell they did to get on his wrong side) and he doesn't care to which extent he has to go.

x Miscellaneous:

history TW FOR ABUSE

My, my, my. What did this kid live through to be such a... monster? To cut the throats apart of poor men and women without a blink. To watch as their faces writhe in agony as he kicks back and watches them cry for help? Hell. That's what you have to go through to become a monster. To be a devil in your own birthright. It started as the freckles that spread over his face like a disease. Then the burn marks. Then the sickness that came from when he was exposed to the sunlight. His family quickly realized something was wrong with their son. A boy who once smiled with such brightness in his eyes now cast away to darkness due to the scorching pain he felt upon his skin when he saw the light of day. Lynton Marie Aziz was diagnosed with xeroderma pigmentosum at a mere four years old. For 17 years he could not even think about seeing what life was like beyond the four walls of his house. His friends? There were none that came knocking at his door to play. Lynton soon drew inward, hoping to protect what was left of his fragile heart before it was broken. He thought that those who would see him as the genetic mutation he was would rip his heart to shreds. Those who would stare at him at playgrounds, or ask him what he did to invoke the wrath of God onto his soul. He never expected it to be the man who helped give him life. Not at four years old.

For 14 years the only life he knew was the one hidden behind computer screens and shut into closets like an ugly secret when visitors were around. He learned belt bruises and stinging slaps. The force of afternoon sun when he was locked outside of his house as punishment. He learned of hands around his throat asking him why he was such a disgrace to the family. And what did he do to deserve this? Nothing. He was just... born to be destroyed. His father gave him dirt to sleep on, hoping that dust to dust would bring his failure of a son back to the hell that he came from. XP was an expensive diagnosis. Lynton couldn't walk out of his room for if he did he would feel the burn of light eat into his skin like a hundred leeches. His windows were shrouded in black curtains and taped over with black garbage bags, all one mother's effort to save one precious little son. People who knew the Aziz's thought that Lynton died with his diagnosis. He heard voices seep into the cracks of his cell asking "are you ever going to clean out the nursery? Your boy died so long ago. You need space for your daughter". And every time he looked to those blacked out windows he remembered that he was a mistake. An abomination that should have never graced the face of the Earth. And thus, he took these emotions of hurt and anger towards his family for not telling the neighbors that their son was very much alive and turned them to himself. In the end, it was never the kids who would come knocking on their door asking to play or the girls he would meet in his high school career. It was his father. And, it was himself.

Did you know that people who suffer from XP have a life expectancy of 39 years? Lynton was sentenced to eighteen. His father joked about it to him at night, laughing in between drunken bouts of whipping and target practice for darts. Lynton can still remember the whiz of needle-sharp darts landing close to his ears as they hit the corkboard he was forced to stand in front of. "By the time you're eighteen, I'm going to burn you alive. No one would even suspect a thing about some disgusting human standing out there in the sunlight. You'd just be like any other piece of shit waiting around for the girls who will never even spare a look at your face", his father would mock when Lynton was tied to a bedpost, waiting to be fed whatever scraps were leftover from dinner. In a sense, the boy became a dog. A small, weak dog who had little fight left in him. After all, if this was the life he found within his own family, what kind of life would be waiting out there in the world?

He was waiting for his death sentence. The day his father would drag him from the safety of that blacked out room and into the sunlight, waiting for his son to burn like a piece of damn paper. But it never came. Instead, his mother had taken Lynton out the night before his 18th birthday, telling him to run with nothing but the clothes on his back and a backpack of food. And run he damn well did. He ran with tears in his eyes, not knowing what he was going to do once daybreak arose. Lyn ran with anger at his eyes, years of pent up frustration at his father for keeping him cooped up like some rabid animal. But above it all, once he found an open homeless shelter, Lynton ran with hope. He prayed that somehow he would be able to make it to 39, even when he had to face thousands of sunrises to get there. Lynton fought on the streets for his reward of survival. He broke profits from muggings and gang wars with a smile, knowing that somehow he was still living despite all odds. And then they came for him.

The government had offered him a dream. A life where he wasn't confined to the eight sleeping hours of night. All for a little bit of experimentation. Science, they called it. And, with the self-taught 12th grade education he had, he knew science was enough an answer for him to accept. Finally he was free from the disease that had caused him so much pain and isolation. For the first time he was powerful. Dangerous. Something that would make his father cower in fear just as much as he had when that Abraxas Aziz raised the wooden hanger.

Lynton loved it.

Display More

Faces. (Just ask me for names).. There's 10

Jean stfu

Ken kaneki

Aomine Daiki

Gareki Karneval

Also

Just cause

Soul eater Crona

Flyers (Even though Hama is out, KF techincally will still have 10 members (Which will come later in the RP)) Do you play on having the Star Dancer or no?

Should um...Make Ryuji number 5

I insist you take him then. It's only fair u.u

I like the fit with the Howling Phantoms

Don Papi's Wheel

_____________________________________________________

If I could shrink my post I would

Day 1.

Jean   Spudbob   Maruchan   ImraL33

I wanna be alone though ):

Harsh

okay so boom

The fifth heist

(The 4th official one)

....

Will be on the Senju Hiashi Corporation.

Maruchan

Flyers howling phantoms want in?

@ all the fucking detectives

right!

Now to find out....

What the company fucking does

good game

but we already have a Detroit becomr human plottwist

We have a lot of plot twist

Flyers I'm weak off the puppy dog eyes

Don Papi's Wheel

_____________________________________________________

(I will timeskip to day three soon..ish. Kinda enjoying day one)

Life filled Yusuke's eyes at the sight of a drink, now leaning on the other side of the table across from Carson. He propped himself on top of the gold table and looked around. It was a given that this area would get crowded if there were no other chairs. Even Shiro had gotten her own, thus Yusuke disappeared before suddenly coming back with a wooden chair, sipping on his drink as he placed the seat next to Mara. "Ahh~" the sound escaped his lips, a sign that he was ever grateful for Carsons refreshment. A sudden shine to his face, as if someone had applied oil to it, was killed by the simple child like look on his face, which was further killed as his features looked to be drawn by a child. "I'm better thanks to you" his words came out in a purr. Drinks were on the house, assuming you didn't get the craziest and strongest alcohol in the casino, the macbeth. He wouldn't dare get it himself...Unsure he could handle it.

Yusuke leaned back in his seat, watching the wheel before closing his eyes. "If you really want... I'm pretty sure we got it from here..." his words were for Shiro, who insisted she go up and sleep. He peeked an eye open, looking at Carson, who was on the golden desk before closing it again. "Tell me...If we don't get anything out of these next three days will you regret this heist" a blunt question. It was safer to speak in the roulette area, where the open room not only dipped into its own little world, but was also surrounded just eight feet above by chattering people. "I'm thinking...That even if we lose all our coins here then at least we made a name for ourselves...Even if it's small" he let out a sigh before taking another sip of the cocktail, leaning his head back again, slouching in the chair.

"I'm worried though...Right now we don't have any type of fire power other than the three of us...And even then-" A reference to Harley, and Shiro "-even though we're strong it'd be nice to have a superhuman on the team otherwise we'd be staring at a disadvantage" which was true. These next few heist were only going to get more difficult, it'd be hard if their teammates were also fellow gadget users. That's how the world evolved. Following the superhuman outbreak, people with abilities were popping up all around the world. The main question was just...How did one go about getting powers. If it was a case such as fulfilling certain requirements then perhaps anything could be done. Though just five people...That wouldn't work in the end, at least not smoothly "Ideally, want ten people. We'll need it if we're gonna carry out the fourth heist.." he opened the eye closest to Mara, scanning her from head to toe, checking her out and then closing his eye again. If she got tired of pulling the lever she'd speak up, of course there was no fatigue, she just started. "I lost track I cant crunch the numbers...If you two had super powers what would it be?" the hand holding his drink relaxed on his lap while the other hugged across his body, his hand hiding under his arm as if to keep himself warm.