Made a up a quick sheet. A bit of a WIP, but I think I have what I'm aiming for. I'll add pics as soon as I can.
Player Name: Writersblockade
Character Name: Praetor
Sexuality: Straight, for the most part.
Status: Slave Master
Appearance: The Praetor exudes the confidence of a military man with the entitlement of nobility. His eye remains kind, even as he teaches his slaves in the ways of conquest and submission. One could stand toe-to-toe with The Praetor and still feel somehow shorter…smaller, and his aura carries a heaviness akin to a deep fog. Perhaps it’s just a memento of his death, or simply a figment of an observer’s imagination. His human form always gravitates towards the finer garbs of time. Designer Suits, stylish military garb, and flashy armors tickle his fancy, and serve as additional diversion for his already busy existence as a Slave Master.
His demon form is simplistic in nature, yet remains a form that seems to make the most sense for some reason. One could look at him and feel that he somehow “fits” his where and when. That he is exactly who and what he needs to be at all times, when he kisses a hand, or drives a sword through another. He appears built out of cold bone held together by a knight’s ghastly armor and darkness’ embrace. His only display of power the almost constant sheen of light in his eye sockets, a sickly green that brings forth thoughts of biohazards, toxic waste, and the slow steady march of decay.
Personality: Dutiful, almost to a fault, The Praetor sees his vocation as a necessity, and his own personal pursuit of it a sort of religion. Where else could one take all the joys of life, from breaking and training, killing and seeing others die, and bartering for favor – and apply it to one thing that could be done for ever on? His personal decision to foolishly hold onto the antiquated idea of Honor in his current environment has lost him a few chances for high quantity sales, but the nobility could never doubt the quality of product in his stable. This is in part due to a calculating mind and unwillingness to provide the market with inferior product.
Powers/Skills: His powers seem to be that of a minor war deity. Damned soldiers show deference and even instant allegiance in battles that involve him. It is not unknown for him to walk with a small entourage of souls with assorted uniforms from different times during more intense gatherings amongst Slave Masters. He also possesses weapon recall, where the weapon he wants simply forms in his hand, ready to use. As one could imagine, this becomes more taxing the larger or complicated the weapon, so he likes to keep it simple. Mentally, he is very astute, and loves to pass the time guessing at the machinations of others with a surprisingly good level of success.
Bio: The Praetor has no real memory of who he was before his arrival in hell. The name he’d given himself was the product of a conscious moment upon his arrival. It hardly mattered, as he instantly went to work doing what he did best. Once a slave, he’d managed to keep himself from being used and discarded by his prince by being a trusted advisor and guard. The prince had the foresight to introduce him slowly to the joys of raising slaves of his own, and to his own unique specifications. The eventual “replacement” of that prince would have occurred much sooner without the support of his slaves, and from that realization would come the eventual increase in demand from the more discerning collectors, and influence within the realm.
On/Offs: listed on my name, but let me know if you’re trying something –really- freaky. I’d have to feel out how this guy’s going to be.