RE: Mini-Grand Organization Thread
04-07-2012, 11:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2012, 11:12 PM by Pharmacy.)
Username: Pharmacy
Name: Selavy "Lillith" Rrose (and Company)
Gender: TRAPPED IN A MASCULINE SHELL BY SOCIETY (and Various)
Race: Duck (plus More)
Colour: "Your uneducated mind will never understand this beautiful color combination" [#fff9a9 on #ff0f3f]
Biography: Selavy was born in the city of Hobbyhorse to a tomato mother (a vegetarian and an accomplished cook) and an taxidermized mustache father (a writer who enjoys a good pipe on his plaque). Despite his unusual heritage, Selavy had a fairly normal upbringing like all young lads in his neighborhood: going to school, indulging in absurdity, and of course, playing with his many, wonderful siblings.
Eventually, he decided on a career of sculpturing - an incredibly respected field of profession in this odd world. His parents were incredibly supportive of his decision and eventually he was of age to go the academy. There he learned arts from masters and eventually like all other lads, fell in love with a Portensia - a beautiful scarf made of wonderful cotton and flawless spider-silk tassels. Even they planned to settle down and start a family in the rolling waves of the sea.
If only.
Alas, the continent in which he lived in was suddenly invaded by force in the form of the long time orderlies. They came, plated in unsettling white and daunting equilibrium. One by one, they caught as many denizens as they could, secluding them away in squeak-clean facilities and pure logic. Unfortunately, Selavy was one of those people. Like the imprisoned others, he was at the sadistic mercy of the orderlies. He was poked, prodded, cut opened, sewed back on, perhaps
experimented on.
It has been a while since he escaped from the clutches of the orderlies. Unforunately, the world he knew has changed, into proofs and theorems and rules. There he goes, malnourished in body, demented in mind. From the debris of his overlords, he steals away garbage, hoarding them in his precious and smelly clutch as he hide from the authorities. There he continued his listless path until while on another chase
he disappeared.
Description: Selavy is an vaguely anthropomorphic avian with two scaly webbed feet and two winged arms (WITH ARTISTIC OPPOSABLE THUMBS so he claims). What type of duck he is, no one (even Selavy) knows. However, his appearance reminiscent of the noble species Aix galericulata, albeit in a violent bichrome of judgment yellow and apocalypse pink. If one were to squint at the glory that is Selavy's saturated appearance, they could see a pair of pince-nez glasses frames (sans lenses) delicately tipped on his bill and for some reason, duct tape wrapped tightly around his head. He also smells strongly of garbage.
Alas, poor Selavy. He is a man - er, duck of belligerent hubris as he delusionally sees the world as a violent satire - with he as the centre(WHICH IS THE ONLY RIGHT WAY OF SPELLING MIND YOU) of the play. Religiously fastened to this ridiculous belief (along with a personal mantra that the answer to universe is "babies"), Selavy tends to act as though he is in a play; although his talking is essentially comical screaming, flanged with smoldering anger and garbled with obtuse vocabulary.
Despite this astounding arrogance, Selavy is not mentally sound. His long-time neuroses granting him a fairly inclusive list of dadaist superstitions, which range from the merely strange (his tendency to spout pop culture lyrics) to the truly absurd (eating yoyos will grant him inspiration and "yoyo headbutts"). Selavy's actions tends towards the strange and absurd (for instance, he swam in a pool full of spaghetti; he fondly regards the experience). You could say, his mind is weak - as he is highly irritable (one time he caused a barfight at the slight tap of a glockenspiel and some fat jokes) but easily cowed (he is scared of stormdrains...and yogurt).
Most intriguing of all, Selavy is utterly fascinated with the concept of death. Assassinations, serial murders, poisons, corpses - his wretched heart flutters at the notion of the end. Selavy is obsessive enough to consider the concept of pursuing such a death-inducing act. That's right. One of his major goals in his life is to kill a person in cold blood. Unfortunately, this pursuit of thanatophilia is hilariously curbed by the fact that his mental capacities are too addled to fully understand the concept of death.
Items/Abilities: Selavy is a compulsive (but a horrible) liar and has padded his accomplishments with made-up ones like "power of rock," "control over all postal systems", "having a full license to a tiny submarine" and so forth. Honestly this is a shame considering Selavy is truly eclectic in the skills department. He is fairly good at math, a killer (har har) on the timpani. However, his most admirable talent is the visual art of sculpture. His artistry is amazing and eye-pleasing - although he has the irritating tendency to name his creations "Portensia" and attempt to take "her" out on dates (which never ends well).
If you are wondering why Selavy is smells like shit, it is because like his addiction to lying, he compulsive hoard trash of all kinds - plastic wraps, butter tubs, banana peels, and the occassional ill-gotten postal package. When you carry around essentially a miniature landfill all Santa Claus-like on your back, your smell tends to lean towards "flagrantly unpleasant." He recycles this debris into beautiful sculptures of Portensias - which he has a tendency to build wherever the hell he likes. He would like to spend all his time building Portensias. Unfortunately, he has two problems. One is means of sustenance - which is easily remedied by smoothies (which are cheap, by the way).
The second is a bit darker.
Rrose suffers from what you may call "a haunting." He calls this "multiple body disorder" and for very good reason - it makes him feel disembodied, floating, like many. Unfortunately for this feathered wastrel, Selavy shares his body with his siblings - all very, very young - and very, very many. Long shedded their corpses a while ago, their metaphysical essence fills the poor duck's mind in the shape of probability-controlling octopodes. In their incorporeal forms, their power over him is strong (along with their obsession with Pocket Monster Cards). Their spiritual tentacles hindering his hippocampus, cutting his cerebrum, siphoning his subconscious -
No wonder Selavy acts like this.
Name: Selavy "Lillith" Rrose (and Company)
Gender: TRAPPED IN A MASCULINE SHELL BY SOCIETY (and Various)
Race: Duck (plus More)
Colour: "Your uneducated mind will never understand this beautiful color combination" [#fff9a9 on #ff0f3f]
Biography: Selavy was born in the city of Hobbyhorse to a tomato mother (a vegetarian and an accomplished cook) and an taxidermized mustache father (a writer who enjoys a good pipe on his plaque). Despite his unusual heritage, Selavy had a fairly normal upbringing like all young lads in his neighborhood: going to school, indulging in absurdity, and of course, playing with his many, wonderful siblings.
Eventually, he decided on a career of sculpturing - an incredibly respected field of profession in this odd world. His parents were incredibly supportive of his decision and eventually he was of age to go the academy. There he learned arts from masters and eventually like all other lads, fell in love with a Portensia - a beautiful scarf made of wonderful cotton and flawless spider-silk tassels. Even they planned to settle down and start a family in the rolling waves of the sea.
If only.
Alas, the continent in which he lived in was suddenly invaded by force in the form of the long time orderlies. They came, plated in unsettling white and daunting equilibrium. One by one, they caught as many denizens as they could, secluding them away in squeak-clean facilities and pure logic. Unfortunately, Selavy was one of those people. Like the imprisoned others, he was at the sadistic mercy of the orderlies. He was poked, prodded, cut opened, sewed back on, perhaps
experimented on.
It has been a while since he escaped from the clutches of the orderlies. Unforunately, the world he knew has changed, into proofs and theorems and rules. There he goes, malnourished in body, demented in mind. From the debris of his overlords, he steals away garbage, hoarding them in his precious and smelly clutch as he hide from the authorities. There he continued his listless path until while on another chase
he disappeared.
Description: Selavy is an vaguely anthropomorphic avian with two scaly webbed feet and two winged arms (WITH ARTISTIC OPPOSABLE THUMBS so he claims). What type of duck he is, no one (even Selavy) knows. However, his appearance reminiscent of the noble species Aix galericulata, albeit in a violent bichrome of judgment yellow and apocalypse pink. If one were to squint at the glory that is Selavy's saturated appearance, they could see a pair of pince-nez glasses frames (sans lenses) delicately tipped on his bill and for some reason, duct tape wrapped tightly around his head. He also smells strongly of garbage.
Alas, poor Selavy. He is a man - er, duck of belligerent hubris as he delusionally sees the world as a violent satire - with he as the centre(WHICH IS THE ONLY RIGHT WAY OF SPELLING MIND YOU) of the play. Religiously fastened to this ridiculous belief (along with a personal mantra that the answer to universe is "babies"), Selavy tends to act as though he is in a play; although his talking is essentially comical screaming, flanged with smoldering anger and garbled with obtuse vocabulary.
Despite this astounding arrogance, Selavy is not mentally sound. His long-time neuroses granting him a fairly inclusive list of dadaist superstitions, which range from the merely strange (his tendency to spout pop culture lyrics) to the truly absurd (eating yoyos will grant him inspiration and "yoyo headbutts"). Selavy's actions tends towards the strange and absurd (for instance, he swam in a pool full of spaghetti; he fondly regards the experience). You could say, his mind is weak - as he is highly irritable (one time he caused a barfight at the slight tap of a glockenspiel and some fat jokes) but easily cowed (he is scared of stormdrains...and yogurt).
Most intriguing of all, Selavy is utterly fascinated with the concept of death. Assassinations, serial murders, poisons, corpses - his wretched heart flutters at the notion of the end. Selavy is obsessive enough to consider the concept of pursuing such a death-inducing act. That's right. One of his major goals in his life is to kill a person in cold blood. Unfortunately, this pursuit of thanatophilia is hilariously curbed by the fact that his mental capacities are too addled to fully understand the concept of death.
Items/Abilities: Selavy is a compulsive (but a horrible) liar and has padded his accomplishments with made-up ones like "power of rock," "control over all postal systems", "having a full license to a tiny submarine" and so forth. Honestly this is a shame considering Selavy is truly eclectic in the skills department. He is fairly good at math, a killer (har har) on the timpani. However, his most admirable talent is the visual art of sculpture. His artistry is amazing and eye-pleasing - although he has the irritating tendency to name his creations "Portensia" and attempt to take "her" out on dates (which never ends well).
If you are wondering why Selavy is smells like shit, it is because like his addiction to lying, he compulsive hoard trash of all kinds - plastic wraps, butter tubs, banana peels, and the occassional ill-gotten postal package. When you carry around essentially a miniature landfill all Santa Claus-like on your back, your smell tends to lean towards "flagrantly unpleasant." He recycles this debris into beautiful sculptures of Portensias - which he has a tendency to build wherever the hell he likes. He would like to spend all his time building Portensias. Unfortunately, he has two problems. One is means of sustenance - which is easily remedied by smoothies (which are cheap, by the way).
The second is a bit darker.
Rrose suffers from what you may call "a haunting." He calls this "multiple body disorder" and for very good reason - it makes him feel disembodied, floating, like many. Unfortunately for this feathered wastrel, Selavy shares his body with his siblings - all very, very young - and very, very many. Long shedded their corpses a while ago, their metaphysical essence fills the poor duck's mind in the shape of probability-controlling octopodes. In their incorporeal forms, their power over him is strong (along with their obsession with Pocket Monster Cards). Their spiritual tentacles hindering his hippocampus, cutting his cerebrum, siphoning his subconscious -
No wonder Selavy acts like this.