Post by jack on May 15, 2011 8:36:39 GMT 1
“JACK THE RIPPER”
[/color]of the Demonic Hierarchy. [/color]
[/center]CLASSIFIED INFORMATION[/color]
"And your name is... oh, dear." -Nuala. [/color]
»»FULL NAME:[/b] “Jack the Ripper”
»»AGE:[/b] Born in 1842 (Longevity), London
»»OCCUPATION:[/b] Serial Killer
»»FACTION:[/b] Plot Character
»»SPECIES : [/b] Cambion - Offspring of a human man and a succubus
»»ALIGNMENT:[/b] Evil
»»ABILITY: [/b] Phasing & Wallcrawling
- - -Strength: Being stealthy, Jack the Ripper is aided by his ability to phase through solid materials unharmed, making him like a ghost in the night. He is a wall crawler, making it hard to predict his location, and giving him a freedom of movement.
- - -Drawbacks: The abilities cannot be used at the same time. Even with wall crawling, sometimes walls make better doors than windows.
THE DETAILS[/color]
"Give it up nasty, we can see you." -Hellboy. [/color]
»»EYE COLOR:[/b] Blue
»»HAIR COLOR:[/b] Shaved bald (Would be brown)
»»HEIGHT:[/b]6'3 feet
»»PLAY BY:[/b] Christopher Heyerdahl
»»APPEARANCE: [/b]
Standing at 6'3”, 'Jacks' appearances can be deceiving. While appearing to be caring of those around him, murdering is a game to him, and he is always plotting his next kill. With his hair shaved off to prevent losing DNA with modern forensics at the crime scene, his eyes appear sensitive when they are quite the opposite.
He dresses, generally in either a factory uniform, or denim and a t-shirt during the week. Playing the part of his innocent nature, the Jack that most people know. However, when the weekend is high, and the cloak of darkness befalls the streets, he transforms into 'Jack the Ripper', murder expert. Targeting hookers and prostitutes, he dresses in all black, making it easier to blend in with their dark natures. He also takes the time allotted to leave messages for the authorities.
»»PERSONALITY: [/b]
“Jack the Ripper” is known for his chameleon-like personality. With the ability to separate his thoughts from his behavior, Jack is entirely unpredictable. He hides behind the mask that best suits his needs based upon the situation at hand. With this ability, he is able to maintain both his composure and emotions, as an actor upon a stage to which he writes the script. His murders are a game to him, and when the time is right, he displays that he is both a cold blooded killer, and a skilled butcher.
He lures women to a place where he could not only dispose of them, but also butcher their corpses. Leaving his audience to wonder what his motives are. Expressing himself with morbid courage and abundant experience, butchery is an art to him. He is known for doing commendable surgery, in the dark, upon the corpses of his subjects, this being the only clue he leaves to his identity.
Giddy with the power he held, he enjoys holding the fate of each victim in his hands. He toys with his victims, buying them drinks in pubs or clubs, and then leaving their company, just to meet them again later in the evening. He is a single man, able to keep to the late hours without arousing suspicion. He is also regularly employed during the week, thus explaining the reasons he only strikes in the early hours of the morning, and on the weekends.
His murders being a game to him, they are also the most prominent part of his life. Not only does he enjoy killing, but he also enjoys stringing along the authorities. Writing them letters, and taunting them to catch him. The methods in which he kills his victims contain clues. For instance, all but one woman was killed by strangulation.
Once they are laid carefully upon the ground, he cuts their throats, beginning with the side away from him. He drains the blood from his victims before beginning the seemingly ritualistic dissection. Removing the organ in the dark was usually a clean job. Ripper removed the kidney from the front rather than the back in at least one case. He is a skilled surgeon, with vast anatomical know-how. The knife wounds indicate that he is right handed.
He hates women, prostitutes to be particular. This is possibly an effect of his history, or maybe even his mother. While he hides the reasons from others, he feels that destroying whores in the early hours is the fastest way to rid the world of impurity. There is no wrong or right in Jack's eyes when it comes to killing his victims, he does not ever know them personally nor does he rape them, they are simply victims of his deadly game.
THE BACKGROUND[/color]
"I'm not a baby, I'm a tumor." -Tumor. [/color]
»»FAMILY TREE:[/b] Unknown
»»IDOLS:[/b] Himself - For escaping the grasps of consequence and conformation offered by society.
»»HISTORY: [/b]
Born in the Victorian age of a succubus and a human man, Jack was far from ordinary. Jack of course is not his real name, but the only name that he takes pride in taking. Having been raised in a poor economic household, his environment was always unstable and unsteady in his youth. His fathers work was ill-scheduled, and he was disciplined harshly while on the job. Subjected to sexual abuse, alcohol, and drug problems, Jack's family also had a history of mental illness.
He was the shy and quiet type, always charming on the outside, though bottling up the painful emotions given to him day to day in his home life. Always thinking the worst of himself, along with his self image, he was cast away from society due to his mental illness, and possible deformation. As a result, he was compelled to feel completely inadequate, and worthless to the world he was born into. He was also a notable underachiever, and was only offered menial jobs in industrial work.
Jack, being unable to live or socialize with others, led a very lonely life. He had only interacted with his parents, bosses, or himself. He was soon stricken with hatred and anger as a result. This anger driven toward the opposite sex, due to his belief that he was unfit for a relationship. It was no secret that this man was very incapable of rape.
With his history left much of a mystery, Jack had learned much about the anatomical make up of a human being, and had skilled hands at butchering and surgery. Though his murders were sloppily executed, and always left for the authorities to find, his surgical display was advanced, especially for being done in the dark. He never left any trace of himself among the evidence, and would get cocky from time to time leaving a note or a pre-declatation of the next piece he would destroy. Or even go into details about how the woman would be dissected.
His mental illness played a huge part of the murders that he committed, and the manner in which he destroys them. He took little to no interest in murder once it was committed. His motive was of course sex. While he was a stable killer, murdering in the same basic area, meaning that he had once lived in Whitechapel, probably near 1888.
In our rendition, his succubus mother raped his father thus creating him, and the reason he hates prostitutes.
Factual information: Casebook
THE PLAYER[/color]
"I can't smile without you...." -Abe & Hellboy. [/color]
»»YOUR NAME:[/b] Snow
»»GENDER:[/b] Male
»»AGE:[/b] 24
»»TITLE:[/b] N/A
»»POST SAMPLE:[/b]
There was something both conjuring and clairvoyant about this night. Furthermore, there was even something alluring about this woman. Even sheltered, Snow was able to recognize there was something different about Bea. The first thing he had noticed about her was the nearly musical feel her voice had, as it first resonated around him. A man would have to be blind to have missed the enchanting appearance this Bea was blessed with. Are all humans so appealing? He wondered to himself. He wasn't made to wonder long, as her captivating voice called his attention once again. There was a notably influencing factor in her voice, that he took notice of. Something that felt as if she was drawing him to her, though the idea in itself was preposterous.
He smiled and hopped down from his ledge, opening his ancient violin case to secure his bow inside. Inside the case there was a spare bow, one that was a different color than the one in his hand. The bow he held was a cherry color, with a slightly red tinge, newer. Though the strings were composed of unicorn hair, something that would go unnoticed by someone not from the mythical world. The spare bow on the other hand, was a dark ashen color, worn with years of age, it had been his mothers. His human mothers over 200 years ago. And it had been his fathers before it was made hers. He dared not play with it less it be damaged even further with good wear and age.
He was surprised that Bea had known the song at all. He raised a brow, and held his tongue, fighting the words 'I thought it was elven rooted' from his lips. Then she extended her name in return, which made him smile just. Her name was musical as well. Perhaps everything was musical this night. "Bea." He mused, allowing his pale blue eyes to study her expressions momentarily. He would have to react to body language as well, he reminded himself. Moving his hands casually he stated, "I'm surprised you've heard of it, actually. Not enough people have an appreciation for that sort of sound anymore, which is rather unfortunate." His voice was less shaken and more sure now, though his confidence remained forced. It was among his first over-worldly interactions.
" So, where'd you learn to play like that?"
Snow's eyes widened. What to answer. Should he answer the truth a human would label him insane and off the crazy bin he'd go. Or did the Fae Court refer to this house made of nuts as the Loony bin? Or was it simply the Loo? The young man furrowed his brow lost in thought, unable to recall a simple term then remembered he had been questioned. He laughed nervously. "I apologize, Miss. It would seem I am unable to recall the name of the place in which I studied." He lied. The truth was some secrets were better unspoken. Fidgeting around inside his violin case, he pulled out a cloth to clean his instrument. He glossed over the seal of Bethmoora which was seemingly engraved into his violin in a silver strand. And his cloth moved to clean the neck of the violin, in which had somehow had Yggdrasil engraved beneath the strings without harming the neck. He wondered every time he cleaned it how much care had gone into crafting such an instrument. "Thinking back, I believe it was a long time ago." He mused, remembering just how he had come to learn the violin as he slid it into his case and carefully closed it.
He didn't expect that Bea would enjoy an encore, it was only polite to devote ones attention to their companions. Since Snow had none, he would start here. "Actually." He corrected. "My mother taught me how to play at first, but I can't remember the names of all the instructors I must have been passed through." He answered with a smile. The sad truth was with his past he had outlived all of his instructors to date, and had a total of 4. "Do you play an instrument? You seem to have a love for music, if you were able to recognize the song so easily." He asked, wearing a sincere smile. Snow nearly always smiled, surprisingly the majority of his smiles were sincere.
He smiled and hopped down from his ledge, opening his ancient violin case to secure his bow inside. Inside the case there was a spare bow, one that was a different color than the one in his hand. The bow he held was a cherry color, with a slightly red tinge, newer. Though the strings were composed of unicorn hair, something that would go unnoticed by someone not from the mythical world. The spare bow on the other hand, was a dark ashen color, worn with years of age, it had been his mothers. His human mothers over 200 years ago. And it had been his fathers before it was made hers. He dared not play with it less it be damaged even further with good wear and age.
He was surprised that Bea had known the song at all. He raised a brow, and held his tongue, fighting the words 'I thought it was elven rooted' from his lips. Then she extended her name in return, which made him smile just. Her name was musical as well. Perhaps everything was musical this night. "Bea." He mused, allowing his pale blue eyes to study her expressions momentarily. He would have to react to body language as well, he reminded himself. Moving his hands casually he stated, "I'm surprised you've heard of it, actually. Not enough people have an appreciation for that sort of sound anymore, which is rather unfortunate." His voice was less shaken and more sure now, though his confidence remained forced. It was among his first over-worldly interactions.
" So, where'd you learn to play like that?"
Snow's eyes widened. What to answer. Should he answer the truth a human would label him insane and off the crazy bin he'd go. Or did the Fae Court refer to this house made of nuts as the Loony bin? Or was it simply the Loo? The young man furrowed his brow lost in thought, unable to recall a simple term then remembered he had been questioned. He laughed nervously. "I apologize, Miss. It would seem I am unable to recall the name of the place in which I studied." He lied. The truth was some secrets were better unspoken. Fidgeting around inside his violin case, he pulled out a cloth to clean his instrument. He glossed over the seal of Bethmoora which was seemingly engraved into his violin in a silver strand. And his cloth moved to clean the neck of the violin, in which had somehow had Yggdrasil engraved beneath the strings without harming the neck. He wondered every time he cleaned it how much care had gone into crafting such an instrument. "Thinking back, I believe it was a long time ago." He mused, remembering just how he had come to learn the violin as he slid it into his case and carefully closed it.
He didn't expect that Bea would enjoy an encore, it was only polite to devote ones attention to their companions. Since Snow had none, he would start here. "Actually." He corrected. "My mother taught me how to play at first, but I can't remember the names of all the instructors I must have been passed through." He answered with a smile. The sad truth was with his past he had outlived all of his instructors to date, and had a total of 4. "Do you play an instrument? You seem to have a love for music, if you were able to recognize the song so easily." He asked, wearing a sincere smile. Snow nearly always smiled, surprisingly the majority of his smiles were sincere.
