Post by Mikhail on Aug 9, 2009 23:49:08 GMT -5
Character Bio!
Name: Mikhail Titov
Nickname: Mike or Mikhail
Gender: Male
Age: 23 (Seriously)
Looks:
Profession: Mikhail is part of a small group of martial arts masters from various backgrounds and countries, all dedicated to maintaining the secrets of the various styles.
Items: Cigarettes and a lighter (duh)
Steel war scythe (black...I have a pic, Eric, I'll show you...next time I see you)(Abyssus Ingluvies (Hell's Maw)) in a guitar-type case
Right-side glove (Lucidus Praesul (Bright Dancer))with the symbol of Jupiter inlaid in electrum
Portable alchemic (chemic) set, packed into a briefcase
Distinguishing Features: Scars all over his body, screw sticking out of his head, I think you can see the distinguishing features from the pic. -laughs- He'll often turn the screw before embarking on an intellectual endeavor...or right before battle. He thinks it focuses him, but the effect is simply psychosomatic.
Abilities: Training in the use of a war scythe. His "Limit Break" equivalent attack with it is "Abyssus Misericordia: Septum Caput Draconum" (Hell's Mercy: Seven Headed Dragon). Mikhail splits the ground between him and the opponent and, in a burst of dark flame, Abaddon appears in his draconic form (Appropriately, it has seven heads.) and attacks the enemy. The attack culminates in Abaddon grabbing the enemy, flying up in the air and diving back to the earth, pile-driving the enemy headfirst into the ground in a pillar of flame created by their passage through the atmosphere.
His glove can call lightning and enhances his strikes with it. His "Limit Break" equivalent attack with it is "Malleus ab Jupiter: Contricio Albus" (Hammer of Jupiter: Crushing White). Lightning strikes his hand and he absorbs the power. He then strikes the enemy with a ground-to-chin uppercut.
He also has a combination "Limit Break" type attack with them both called "Turris ab Sanctimonia" (Tower of Purity). He raises his hand and snaps his fingers. The enemy is engulfed in a pillar of lightning as Abyssus Ingluvies' blade flickers red on the interior. He spins the scythe and leaps forward, the blade bursting into flame right before he cuts the enemy on a diagonal line from shoulder to hip. He lands behind them and spins the blade as they collapse. This is his only sure-fire kill technique. He cannot use it very often as it takes a great toll on both his psyche and his body.
Strengths: He is awesome at cooking and speaking to crowds. He can also play guitar well...if you can find him one.
Weaknesses: Large breasted women distract him something awful (His glasses steam and everything!). Unfortunately (for him) all his speaking skill leaves him in their presence.
Likes: A good guitar riff, the smell of good food cooking and research.
Dislikes: Death (in general; he hates killing as much as he hates the idea of dying himself), ignorant or arrogant people and the tormenting of the weak.
Personality: Mikhail is a fairly quiet man, except when he has something to say. When he has something to say, he will say it loud and make sure you understand. He's good at talking people around to his point of view and speaking in general and that's part of why he's so quiet; he understands the power of words ill-spoken or misunderstood.
Also, he has a tendency to want to bear everything on his own shoulders. When confronted with an injustice, he will do everything in his power to right it and will occasionally stretch himself too far to do it.
History: Mikhail was born in the North to a family of peasant farmers. He and his twelve siblings (seven older, five younger; two girls, ten boys) were mostly the ones who tended the farm, their father being lazy and indolent and their mother left too frail from childbirth to do the work. After some time, it became apparent that Mikhail was best suited to harvesting the grain with his natural talent with a scythe.
When Mikhail was twelve, a man walked into the village where Mikhail had been born and began staying at the inn. He was silver-tongued and loud, speaking of justice and a great desert in the South where he had honed his fighting skills. Mikhail, stopping in to buy his father's supply of beer for the week, was greatly impressed.
Later that week, Mikhail, having gone into town to buy supplies for the farm, saw some of the local ruffians surrounding the man in an alley, obviously planning to rough him up. Some of them carried lengths of lead pipe or pieces of chain. The man was surprisingly calm given his situation. Mikhail again heard the man's words from his earlier speech in the inn and made a split-second decision to help him, despite the likelihood of his receiving a beating.
Of course, the man was a master fighter and quickly dispatched the unskilled yokels, impressing Mikhail even more. The man complimented Mikhail on his courage and skill (he had knocked out two of the bigger delinquents himself) and offered to take him with him. Mikhail, desperate to get away from his father, quickly agreed and returned home only once more, to retrieve his scythe and tell his elder brother Ivan that he was leaving and would likely not return. Ivan wished him luck and gave him an alchemic set, urging him to learn those arts as well. Mikhail thanked him and left, disappearing into the Wastes with the strange man.
Not much is known about his training with the man, not even his master's name (though some have advanced the theory that it was Jidanbou Honda, the last true scythe master until Mikhail's appearance, a claim supported by Mikhail's use of Honda's style and the language that accompanies it), but it was clearly very efficacious. Mikhail reappeared eight years later, bearing scars and a screw, a new scythe (one he says he forged himself) and a glove, dedicated to an ancient forgotten god. He still carried the alchemic set given to him by his brother Ivan, now packed in an attache case when not in use. His first act upon reappearing was to crush the first gang he happened upon, the White Lions, once feared greatly. He crushed them so hard that now, only three years later, no one remembers them save their victims. Thus he entered into the Wastes.
One year ago, he was approached by a strange bald old man. He said his name was Wu Zhi and he was a master of one of the Eastern unarmed styles. He represented a group of masters, largely unknown to the public, who had gathered together to protect the old styles from extinction. As the only known remaining scythe master, Zhi had been sent to persuade Mikhail to join them, by force if necessary.
Mikhail accepted their invitation to a meeting and went, telling himself it was to discover their motivations and alignment, though, had he been honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he was glad he was not the only master of a martial art alive in this day.
Since that meeting, he has been taking assignments from the masters, most of whom are old and, if not feeble, less than focused. his latest assignment is to find the man named Gamma Akutabi and persuade him to join their ranks as the last known master of the Karinzanjutsu.
RP Sample: Mikhail sat in the bar and gazed around with dispassionate eyes. The punks surrounding him seemed to be laboring under the misapprehension that if you throw enough bodies at a master, he will eventually succumb. Well, Honda-sensei's training had prepared him better than that. He lit a cigarette as the head punk spoke.
"So old man? Are you Mikhail the Reaper? The man with a five million bounty on your head? 'Cuz ya sure as hell look like him."
Mikhail took a deep drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke back out before replying. "Perhaps we can strike a deal: I will answer you that question if you will answer me one in return. Where is Gamma Akutabi?"
"Akutabi? Huh, that Powder Hunter moves so quick he makes roadrunners look slow. Last I heard he had a kid with him and fought with the leader of the Death Circus, Mystic."
"Thank you. Any lead is welcome. As for your answer...yes. I am Mikhail Titov, known as the Reaper. I would warn you against trying for my bounty, I have not fought weak opponents such as yourselves in some time, I cannot guarantee your safety." Mikhail's eyes were serious and showed honest concern.
"Like hell! For five mil, we can live like kings! C'mon boys, kill 'im!" The punks moved in, thirsty for blood.
Mikhail ducked the first swing of the lead pipe without thinking, causing it to knock one of the other delinquents unconscious as he got too close. The next to come was a man with a chain who swung at Mikhail's legs, hoping to trip him. Mikhail stepped on the chain and kicked the table he had been sitting at into a thick group of hooligans, knocking several of them unconscious. Mikhail stood up and put his hands in his pockets. "Very well. I shall endeavor not to cause any death. I apologize in advance for any damage to the property, barkeep."
The fight continued like this, Mikhail never removing his hands from his pockets, using his opponents' own attacks against each other. Shortly, after about five minutes, the gang of punks were all unconscious or in severe enough pain to not cause anymore problems. Mikhail turned to the barkeep. "I apologize that I had to get a little rough. Here is enough money to cover the damages and my dinner. Thank you most kindly for the meal." Mikhail turned and retrieved his coat and attache case from the hook by the door as well as his scythe from the wall behind it before stepping out into the crisp desert night air. "So Gamma fought Mystic. Interesting. Perhaps the Black-Armed Death has found some humanity? We shall see...we shall see." He took a last drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, putting it out with his foot before walking away.
Name: Mikhail Titov
Nickname: Mike or Mikhail
Gender: Male
Age: 23 (Seriously)
Looks:
Profession: Mikhail is part of a small group of martial arts masters from various backgrounds and countries, all dedicated to maintaining the secrets of the various styles.
Items: Cigarettes and a lighter (duh)
Steel war scythe (black...I have a pic, Eric, I'll show you...next time I see you)(Abyssus Ingluvies (Hell's Maw)) in a guitar-type case
Right-side glove (Lucidus Praesul (Bright Dancer))with the symbol of Jupiter inlaid in electrum
Portable alchemic (chemic) set, packed into a briefcase
Distinguishing Features: Scars all over his body, screw sticking out of his head, I think you can see the distinguishing features from the pic. -laughs- He'll often turn the screw before embarking on an intellectual endeavor...or right before battle. He thinks it focuses him, but the effect is simply psychosomatic.
Abilities: Training in the use of a war scythe. His "Limit Break" equivalent attack with it is "Abyssus Misericordia: Septum Caput Draconum" (Hell's Mercy: Seven Headed Dragon). Mikhail splits the ground between him and the opponent and, in a burst of dark flame, Abaddon appears in his draconic form (Appropriately, it has seven heads.) and attacks the enemy. The attack culminates in Abaddon grabbing the enemy, flying up in the air and diving back to the earth, pile-driving the enemy headfirst into the ground in a pillar of flame created by their passage through the atmosphere.
His glove can call lightning and enhances his strikes with it. His "Limit Break" equivalent attack with it is "Malleus ab Jupiter: Contricio Albus" (Hammer of Jupiter: Crushing White). Lightning strikes his hand and he absorbs the power. He then strikes the enemy with a ground-to-chin uppercut.
He also has a combination "Limit Break" type attack with them both called "Turris ab Sanctimonia" (Tower of Purity). He raises his hand and snaps his fingers. The enemy is engulfed in a pillar of lightning as Abyssus Ingluvies' blade flickers red on the interior. He spins the scythe and leaps forward, the blade bursting into flame right before he cuts the enemy on a diagonal line from shoulder to hip. He lands behind them and spins the blade as they collapse. This is his only sure-fire kill technique. He cannot use it very often as it takes a great toll on both his psyche and his body.
Strengths: He is awesome at cooking and speaking to crowds. He can also play guitar well...if you can find him one.
Weaknesses: Large breasted women distract him something awful (His glasses steam and everything!). Unfortunately (for him) all his speaking skill leaves him in their presence.
Likes: A good guitar riff, the smell of good food cooking and research.
Dislikes: Death (in general; he hates killing as much as he hates the idea of dying himself), ignorant or arrogant people and the tormenting of the weak.
Personality: Mikhail is a fairly quiet man, except when he has something to say. When he has something to say, he will say it loud and make sure you understand. He's good at talking people around to his point of view and speaking in general and that's part of why he's so quiet; he understands the power of words ill-spoken or misunderstood.
Also, he has a tendency to want to bear everything on his own shoulders. When confronted with an injustice, he will do everything in his power to right it and will occasionally stretch himself too far to do it.
History: Mikhail was born in the North to a family of peasant farmers. He and his twelve siblings (seven older, five younger; two girls, ten boys) were mostly the ones who tended the farm, their father being lazy and indolent and their mother left too frail from childbirth to do the work. After some time, it became apparent that Mikhail was best suited to harvesting the grain with his natural talent with a scythe.
When Mikhail was twelve, a man walked into the village where Mikhail had been born and began staying at the inn. He was silver-tongued and loud, speaking of justice and a great desert in the South where he had honed his fighting skills. Mikhail, stopping in to buy his father's supply of beer for the week, was greatly impressed.
Later that week, Mikhail, having gone into town to buy supplies for the farm, saw some of the local ruffians surrounding the man in an alley, obviously planning to rough him up. Some of them carried lengths of lead pipe or pieces of chain. The man was surprisingly calm given his situation. Mikhail again heard the man's words from his earlier speech in the inn and made a split-second decision to help him, despite the likelihood of his receiving a beating.
Of course, the man was a master fighter and quickly dispatched the unskilled yokels, impressing Mikhail even more. The man complimented Mikhail on his courage and skill (he had knocked out two of the bigger delinquents himself) and offered to take him with him. Mikhail, desperate to get away from his father, quickly agreed and returned home only once more, to retrieve his scythe and tell his elder brother Ivan that he was leaving and would likely not return. Ivan wished him luck and gave him an alchemic set, urging him to learn those arts as well. Mikhail thanked him and left, disappearing into the Wastes with the strange man.
Not much is known about his training with the man, not even his master's name (though some have advanced the theory that it was Jidanbou Honda, the last true scythe master until Mikhail's appearance, a claim supported by Mikhail's use of Honda's style and the language that accompanies it), but it was clearly very efficacious. Mikhail reappeared eight years later, bearing scars and a screw, a new scythe (one he says he forged himself) and a glove, dedicated to an ancient forgotten god. He still carried the alchemic set given to him by his brother Ivan, now packed in an attache case when not in use. His first act upon reappearing was to crush the first gang he happened upon, the White Lions, once feared greatly. He crushed them so hard that now, only three years later, no one remembers them save their victims. Thus he entered into the Wastes.
One year ago, he was approached by a strange bald old man. He said his name was Wu Zhi and he was a master of one of the Eastern unarmed styles. He represented a group of masters, largely unknown to the public, who had gathered together to protect the old styles from extinction. As the only known remaining scythe master, Zhi had been sent to persuade Mikhail to join them, by force if necessary.
Mikhail accepted their invitation to a meeting and went, telling himself it was to discover their motivations and alignment, though, had he been honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he was glad he was not the only master of a martial art alive in this day.
Since that meeting, he has been taking assignments from the masters, most of whom are old and, if not feeble, less than focused. his latest assignment is to find the man named Gamma Akutabi and persuade him to join their ranks as the last known master of the Karinzanjutsu.
RP Sample: Mikhail sat in the bar and gazed around with dispassionate eyes. The punks surrounding him seemed to be laboring under the misapprehension that if you throw enough bodies at a master, he will eventually succumb. Well, Honda-sensei's training had prepared him better than that. He lit a cigarette as the head punk spoke.
"So old man? Are you Mikhail the Reaper? The man with a five million bounty on your head? 'Cuz ya sure as hell look like him."
Mikhail took a deep drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke back out before replying. "Perhaps we can strike a deal: I will answer you that question if you will answer me one in return. Where is Gamma Akutabi?"
"Akutabi? Huh, that Powder Hunter moves so quick he makes roadrunners look slow. Last I heard he had a kid with him and fought with the leader of the Death Circus, Mystic."
"Thank you. Any lead is welcome. As for your answer...yes. I am Mikhail Titov, known as the Reaper. I would warn you against trying for my bounty, I have not fought weak opponents such as yourselves in some time, I cannot guarantee your safety." Mikhail's eyes were serious and showed honest concern.
"Like hell! For five mil, we can live like kings! C'mon boys, kill 'im!" The punks moved in, thirsty for blood.
Mikhail ducked the first swing of the lead pipe without thinking, causing it to knock one of the other delinquents unconscious as he got too close. The next to come was a man with a chain who swung at Mikhail's legs, hoping to trip him. Mikhail stepped on the chain and kicked the table he had been sitting at into a thick group of hooligans, knocking several of them unconscious. Mikhail stood up and put his hands in his pockets. "Very well. I shall endeavor not to cause any death. I apologize in advance for any damage to the property, barkeep."
The fight continued like this, Mikhail never removing his hands from his pockets, using his opponents' own attacks against each other. Shortly, after about five minutes, the gang of punks were all unconscious or in severe enough pain to not cause anymore problems. Mikhail turned to the barkeep. "I apologize that I had to get a little rough. Here is enough money to cover the damages and my dinner. Thank you most kindly for the meal." Mikhail turned and retrieved his coat and attache case from the hook by the door as well as his scythe from the wall behind it before stepping out into the crisp desert night air. "So Gamma fought Mystic. Interesting. Perhaps the Black-Armed Death has found some humanity? We shall see...we shall see." He took a last drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, putting it out with his foot before walking away.
