Post by Ezra Lafayette on Nov 1, 2011 20:46:44 GMT -5
Age: Somewhere over 5,000
Sex: Male
Species: Djinni[footnote:1]There are five 'basic ranks' of demon, although there are 'legions of lowly sprites' too weak to fit within the lowest subclass, and 'great entities of terrible power' that are likewise too powerful to fit within the highest class of generally summoned spirits. Djinn are the third most powerful class of demon, only topped by marids and afrits.[/footnote][footnote:2]Djinni, Afrits, Marids, and all other species from the Other Place are actually carefully documented and recorded, although they are moreso a theoretical species to the mortals, who view their study to be as realistic as the study of Roman Gods and somesuch. Bartimaeus is listed many times within quite a few novels and tomes, due to his exploits.[/footnote]
Nationality: Other Place[footnote:3]The Other Place is the habitation of the spirits, where time does not exist and where spirits have no distinct identities, but are merely a single consciousness. The Demon's essences are allowed to mingle freely and the laws of time and space are of no concern. There is no order in this world, because there is no matter; only infinite swirling colours and flashes of memories which are shared by all spirits there, due to their lack of identity. In the Other Place, the essence of the demons can heal and replenish itself (since dwelling in the human world is exhausting to spirits).[/footnote]
Abilities/Strengths:
- He is capable of shapeshifting, but his forms are limited to three things, due to the exhausting amount of time he spent in the human world: a human, a bat, and a cockroach.
- His strength is on par with a demon's, but only by a smidge--he tends to be a tad bit less swift, or a little bit less powerful, but not enough to be an easy target.
- Ezra speaks many human languages, including English, Czech, Aramaic, Babylonian, Arabian, German and Old Egyptian.
- Ezra, of course, has that lovely little trait called 'immortality.' That is to say, he cannot die by natural causes, such as illness or whatever the hell kills old people, and his body does not age as a normal being's does.
- He is agile, to a degree, and a bit of a contortionist--the man can twist about in some freakishly odd ways, to cram himself into hiding places. His skills border on acrobatic, as he has a tendency to be very fancy when he dodges, doing a flip or something retarded like that just to be a show-offy bastard.
- Due to skills he learned in his younger days, he can be one damn stealthy creature, when he needs to be; the djinni can clear large gaps and clamor up walls like a squirrel, as well as creep upon ground littered with crunchy leaves without making much of a sound.
- Did I mention that he can make realy pretty doilies? Because he can. He also sews, knits, crochets, and embroiders.. so, yeah. He really likes making stuff.
Inabilities/Weaknesses:
- Firstly, he frickin' sucks at cooking. No matter how hard he tries, or how easy the dish is, he somehow always messes up. There was one instance where he attempted to boil water, and it somehow ended up exploding.. but that's another story entirely.
- The male is a brand of demon (or, more specifically, demon spirit) that feeds upon the essence of its own kind; the longer he stays within the human world, the more essence he loses, due to his lack of energy from other, fresher sources.
- Ezra hates to adapt physical forms, but the one he is most fond of is his human form, an exact likeness of the man whom befriended him back during the Renaissance (plus a scruffy goatee). This fondness is a weakness, simply because it is most painful and taxing for him to adapt such a complex form, despite only having it visible upon the first, most basic plane[footnote:4]The earthly plane consists of 7+ seperate but overlapping planes, on which varying levels of demonic/magical activity can be viewed. The more powerful a spirit is, the more planes they can typically view. In terms of human kind, most can only see the first and sometimes the second under certain circumstances, while those with certain kinds of resilience can see 1-7. The other breed of demons, as well as reapers, can see all of the planes, as well, though most reapers have a bit of trouble viewing the seventh.[/footnote].
- You could step on him when he's in his cockroach form, and he'd die. Most certainly.
- Ezra is far too lazy for his own good, and has a tendency to sit about on his ass and do nothing, despite being pinned to this world eternally due to his last master's final command, which he is far too mortified to accomplish. If he is challenged, he does not take it seriously, until he gets hit.. then shit goes down.
- When exhausted, or exposed to silver (or iron, although silver is strongest) it can be harder for him to shift between shapes, or even maintain a solid form at all.
Occupation: Unemployed
Appearance: [footnote:5]Demon Spirits are composed of Essence, which is entirely different to anything from this world, described as a kind of 'smokey liquid'. While they usually have a 'true form', often a hideous creature with many tentacles and other protrusions, this is often only visible on the seventh plane, and is not, in fact, a manifestation of their actual true form, but merely a convenient statement as to the nature of their power on Earth. On the lower planes, demons can shapeshift at will, taking on any form they choose, though this is somewhat limited by the extent of their power. Nevertheless, despite physical appearances, they do not possess a physical shape on Earth.[/footnote]On the first plane, Ezra takes on the appearance of a man in his late twenties; his flesh is pale and his hair is long and slightly curled, taking on a purple-ebony hue. The tresses are loosely tied with a red ribbon, in a large, floopy bun midway upon his cranium. His eyes are mahogany, and his teeth are pearly white, with slightly elongated canines (just for show, mind you). His nails are long, with mild points that have just enough of an edge to leave a nasty scratch upon flesh. The male has a tendency to trounce around in attire scandalous for the era; he dons a pitch black, long-sleeve shirt with puffy sleeves, which is almost never fully buttoned, always leaving part of his chest showing. His pants are, of course, slacks, but they are white, and ill-fitting of him, slightly baggy around the ankles and a bit low on the inseam. The man's shoes are leather, and show signs of once being polished and clean, now a bit worn from the wear and tear of walking about London. During the winter, he has a white overcoat and a beige scarf, but that is the only difference in his attire. [ 1st-3th planes ]
[ 4th plane ] [ 5th-6th planes ] [ 7th plane ]
Face claim: Johnny Rayflo (Vassalord)
Personality: Ezra is a bit of a complicated creature. He has a few prominent character traits that make him “unique”:
- He is impeccably lazy, and sarcastic, with a tendency to avoid or procrastinate on tasks, and a particularly irksome habit of taking everything literally, then accomplishing his interpretation of the task in the easiest way possible. For instance, if you desire to win a log-rolling competition, rather than making you seem incredibly talented by keeping you balanced by some epic magic power, he simply lets you be humiliated while he shoves of the opponent with a casual flick of his wrist.
- Ezra is optimistic, but its moreso mocking than serious. He’ll follow around negative people and constantly contradict them, just to irritate the hell out of `em. So, generally, he’s a situational optimist, meaning that considering the situation, he could be either the epitome of positivity or just making snarky, fake cheery comments for shits and giggles.
- Despite the fact that he’s a general douche, he’s usually very calm and indifferent. It ties into his laziness, to be so antipathic. Really, he just doesn’t care enough to warrant a response, in most instances. Especially when he’s smoking. Human tobacco somehow makes him very calm.
- He is infatuated with dogs. Loves `em to death. He’ll be all cuddly and happy clingy around such animals. Honestly, he admires them for their blind following and ignorance of their eternal servitude. In contrast, he can’t fucking stand cats. He enjoys punting them over fences.
- He can’t bloody STAND it when people learn his true name, because he hates being ordered around[footnote:6]If addressed by his true name, he can be commanded by pretty much anyone—be they a reaper, human, or the other breed of demon that doesn’t reside in the Other Place.[/footnote]. On the other hand, he loves knowing the names of others, so as to have a means of avoiding any orders given for an extended period of time, without suffering repercussions[footnote:7]If Ezra knows someone else’s full name, and they know his, then if they attempt an attack upon him, he can rather easily counter it by stating his assailant’s true name.[/footnote].
- Ezra cannot stand the other breed of demons. It agitates him, that they don’t have ranks, form contracts they choose, and aren’t weakened as quickly by being in the human world. That, and he hates how they consume souls, since he finds the concept of taking something from a disgusting human to be vile. He prefers to (and usually must) leave his masters alive.
Life Story: Ezra's life story is particularly vague, aside from the many life achievements he has boasted about (but probably didn't actually have an active role in/made it up), including:
- Playing a part in the death of Genghis Khan.
- Helping to build the walls of Prague, Jericho, Uruk, and Karnak, as well as having spoken with Solomon.
- Being in the service of several notable Ancient Egyptian rulers, including Ramses and Nefertiti[footnote:8]When referring to the overthrow of Akhenaton, Ezra says that Nefertiti never forgave him, suggesting that they had had a more friendly relationship than he had with most other humans.[/footnote].
- Having many names, such as Sakhr al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty, Rekhyt, the Serpent of Silver Plumes, Necho, Nectanebo, and Wakonda of the Algonquin.
His history is relatively unimportant, after this period of time. He remains in the Other Place for several hundred years, until being summoned once more during the Renaissance, by some little brat who persisted upon him watching over an elder sibling until said man's death. So, Ezra--at the time, going by the name "Tiziano"--had to watch his master get hung, then stalk off to oversee his dumbass older brother tromp about in Florence, as he grieved and
sobbed miserably. It was, quite frankly, rather pathetic, but he endured the boring drabble, pursing the young man within the shadows, just out of his sights.
During this time, he met a man by the name of Feliciano, who was some sort of a city thief. The two acquired a mutual distaste for each other at first, but eventually became companions, and Feliciano taught Bartimeaus the ways of humans in acts of free-running, thievery, and stealth. It was rather invigorating, for the djinni.. but soon, his health dwindled, due to his extended time in the Human World, constantly tweaking situations for the stupid Au-whatever brat's victory and safety.
After a while, however, he just stopped giving a damn.. and when the brother disappeared to Constantinople, Ezra couldn't care less, spending the rest of his days lounging about with Feliciano in the sunny cheer of Rome. Unfortunately, the 1400s held quite a darker side, in that century.. the Plague swept upon the area, like a dense fog, and rather neatly wiped out quite a few people within the area, Feliciano included.
With the loss of his friend, and the death of the brother he was supposed to follow about shortly after, Ezra dispersed into Essence and returned to the Other Place, to brood and nurse his wounded emotions.
And then, a couple centuries later, the djinni was dredged from the essence, and spit up upon the grasses of the human world, staring down the wide, antipathic green irises of a teenage girl. Due to the binds of his existence, he had no say in being contracted to the girl--she formed the partnership, she named him, she gave him commands that she expected to be followed immediately and without flaw. He, of course, did nothing of the sort unless specifically told to, once fooling the girl by milling about the kitchen for three days upon being ordered to fetch her tea. Goodness, she was angry at that.. but we should return to the subject. Ezra and the girl (who was named Elise Ezra Lafayette) lived out their days in the outskirts of Paris, France; they bantered and cursed each other daily, and the life was chaotic, but somehow, along the way, the two became close friends. The insults turned from harsh to friendly, and the procrastination was much shorter, only ceased upon a jesting laugh and a pleasant demand for immediate completion. From butler and master, to friends, to... more then that.
Despite his own strict moral code, the foolish djinni fell in love with his master, and her commanding air. He loved her quirks and her flaws, her accomplishments and her failures, and everything in between. His personality shifted, and he became doggedly loyal, acting like the damn greatest butler he could, and working for her without any true purpose. However, the terms of their contract soon came to a close.. he couldn't stop himself, when he obtained her vengeance upon the wicked creature who'd kidnapped her siblings or.. whatever the reason was. He tended to block out that bit of his memory. Anyhow, having done the deed, the grief-stricken demon woefully trudged to his master, and bowed rigidly.
Then, his hand shoved forward, through her chest, in a vicious lunge. He clasped her pulsing heart within a white-gloved hand, and mahogany eyes met grassy green. She did nothing but smile, as she whispered an order. "You are not to return to your world, until you forget me." And then, she died. Just like that.
So, Ezra's pretty much just been tromping around Europe ever since, currently lingering about in London and doing fuckin' NOTHING AT ALL. He still refuses to forget his previous master, and has even adapted her last name, as well as using her middle name as his first, to show his dedication to her. He also keeps her ashes in a small pouch around his neck.
Sample Roleplay: God damn.. it was too bright outside. Can't a guy get any rest, nowadays, without the blaring rays of morning stabbing through his eyelids? Apparently not. A man clad in loose, slightly dingy attire rose from a pile of leaves, his brows furrowed and his hair a mess, the ribbon that usually held it in place now nowhere to be seen. "What.. the fuck.. in a basket." Well, it seems even Ezra couldn't quite figure out how he'd ended up in this position. Perhaps the tree above him had given out rather suddenly, in the middle of the night? Maybe someone raked the offending particles over him, as a crude burial, thinking he was deceased? Either way, he was now sitting in a giant pile of leaves and autumn debri, dead tree bits stuck within his hair, clothes, and probably his shoes. "Well, there goes my nap. My precious, well-deserved nap." I have no earthly idea why he made this statement--he didn't deserve such rest, as all he did was laze about, rather than accomplishing the task that would set him free from human binds of summoning. With a bitter growl, the djinni shoved himself into a kneeling position, then stood up straight, leaves falling from his figure. Steady hands quickly brushed off the filth; he seemed to grit his teeth a bit, with every motion, however.. it was sluggish, for him, and his joints ached with the effort. He truly had been in this place for too long; a pity, however, that his own damned pride and refusal to let go caused him to remain stuck to this earth like a magnet to iron. Ezra’s hand raised, and settled against his brow, to shield his eyes from the sun as he strolled out into its beams. London had just started to awaken, as he had—carriages were clattering down the street, at somewhat lengthy intervals, and voices were beginning to spill out from open windows and pedestrian conversation. “Well, what the hell should I do now?” The demonic spirit had decided to test out a new voice, today—it was mid-baritone, with a lighthearted, careless air to it, and a bit of an emphasis upon his “L’s”. His throat burned at the change, but he stubbornly ignored it, instead persisting upon this new tone as he muttered to himself, testing out the pitches and whatnot. After several minutes of doing such—and convincing most of the passerby that he was batshit crazy—the ebony-haired creature took the time to survey the scene before him, exiting the grassy area entirely to stand upon the nearby sidewalk. It was on the nicer end of town, so he looked incredibly out of place. A few nicely-suited gentlemen and ladies gave him very dirty looks, as if he were a street rat. ‘Look at me like that again, lady,’ the young fellow hissed within his mind, to a woman with a particularly crooked set of teeth, ‘and you’ll have something to grimace about for sure, dammit.’ Despite this wicked thought, the djinni seemed antipathic in expression, his mouth curved in a lazy smile and his hand clasped behind his head, ruffling the rich tress of curls that was tied there. A gentle, almost lofty sigh slipped past parted lips. “So.. I guess it’s time I do something productive, eh?”[/ul]
