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<div class="SpoilerTarget bbCodeSpoilerText">Name: Razor<br/>
Race: Ramen<br/>
Gender: Male<br/>
Age: 37<br/>
Occupation: Hunter/Story teller<br/>
Looks: ((post from the first RP I did with this guy...it was much more detailed))<br/>
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Not wanting his companion to be self conscious about himself, Razor had sympathetically shed his disguise. The first to go was his robe. All he did was raise his arms to let down his hood. The first thing exposed was his many, many layers of toxic spines that lined his scalp and even went down to cover the back of his neck. From a distance and glance, it looked like real, dark hair. But upon closer inspection, one could find the many, many individual pricks that adorned his crown. The mask still worked well in covering his face for the time being. He then retracted his arms back into his robes and rolled his shoulders to seemingly shrug off the cloak-like robe, though it clung to one arm so he could easily catch it. The sight beneath was...beastly...<br/>
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The same pattern of his arms matched his body. He was almost ungodly thin with skin so white, it could almost blind a man by looking at him under a bright sun, though at night...it dimmed and seemed groggy. And the red, purple, and blue of veins traveled underneath the thin skin, almost poetically moving like snakes and plant roots going through milky silt water, rising and following bumps of bones. His legs were oddly jointed to show what appeared to be alien feet with three toes that ended with powerful claws...two in front and one in back. This features nearly showed that it seemed Ramen can have various types of limbs, showing themselves to be very unique.<br/>
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And it seemed, underneath the robes, he wore very little. Across his upper arms, chest, and back he wore was looked like leather straps that had numerable holders and hooks to hold onto things. Already there were vials of different sorts as well as gear, food provisions (mostly meat), and scrolls. And for the waist down, he seemed to wear leather shorts that had pants-legs that only went below the knee.<br/>
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All that was left was his mask, the dark thing that almost portrayed what appeared to be a wolf, an apex predator...one that still survives to this date based on teamwork, loyalty, speed, and cunning. It was a beautiful thing of art...though the face underneath it was something one would think would be better suited on a mask. With careful and practiced ease, Razor had removed his mask with one hand and placed the mask in the midst of his robe, which he slung over his shoulder. His face...was something one would find in the darkest nightmares of the most disturbed minds...<br/>
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The first noticeable feature was that he had no eyes to speak of. What stood in place appeared to be vicious gashes that looked like it was dealt upon him by beast or lash. It seemed to have gone down deep into the few thing layers of skin that he had. Though, it showed that it didn't cause his lost of eyes, the areas with which he would of had them being flat and have no bone structure of sockets. His nose was equally gone, only two elongated, diagonal circles were there, oftentimes twitching wider and narrower as he constantly sniffed the air for shifting scents. His ears appeared normal, if not for being elongated at the tips and more at an angle to help improve his sense of hearing, able to hear things clearer and at longer distances. And his mouth barely past for such. There was barely anything to pass for lips, only two parts of flesh that came together over his mouth...which seemed to be inhumanly long, the points connecting at the ears...and his teeth, just barely visible, seemed to run all along the mouth and were needle shaped. This could account for the hissing speak...<br/>
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Personality: Although he would seem like a ruthless killer and horrible monster, and sometimes he could turn into that. But, in actuality, he is very caring and considerate, using his intelligence in his favor to try and come up with nonviolent means to problems. But, if forced to commit violence, he will hold nothing back to win the fight.<br/>
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History: When Razor was a child, by his people's standards, he was orphaned...found by humans and used for their entertainment. He couldn't even remember the name he was given when he was born. And in fact, he was never really called anything other than animal or beast, being caged up by a cruel merchant who used the captured child to amuse or outrage those that we would sell wears to. He knew the fragile state of Ramen, and therefore the merchant would not physically abuse the child, but would do many things that would still harm the young Razor and entertain the crowds.<br/>
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Eventually, one day while traveling with his master, a band of Ramen caught wind of the merchant and tracked the wagon down. Effectively, they had killed the merchant and left the goods there, only taking the young Razor after years of living in the caged hell. For more years, Razor had adopted his name due to his claws and learned to be a hunter. But hearing about his people's fragile nature, he had dived into books and discovered that he could perform magic, if only a little bit...and used what he could to magically strengthen his bones to stall the effects and give him the strength he needed to live and fight. He had also talked many times with the eldest of the Ramen that were around him...learning stories and life lessons.<br/>
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While he had learned not to condemn all of humanity for the acts of a few trash, he was not going to become the trash that tormented him. But because of the abuse he went through, random, violent acts of anger does come upon him, showing that maybe there are some signs of forced insanity are upon him due to his abuse.<br/>
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Eventually, his band was found by human mercenaries and were wiped out, leaving him and another Ramen the only ones able to escape while he was just becoming an age of a man. With that, he started roaming with his one surviving friend all over the world, searching for those that would accept them, and find a life that they could call their own. Luckily, he was able to steal the crimson robes and the dark mask to hide his figure, but one cannot hide their true selves from the world.<br/>
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Quirks: Speech impediment (hissing), random cases of switching moods (can flip into anger and resentment for no reason, but will switch back to his usual self just as quickly and suddenly), and when angered his spikes tend to rise like they are about to strike (giving the fact that when angered, he tilts his head dangerously close into the fashion that his people use to fire said spikes)<br/>
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Magic: 6.6 out of 10 (to keep his limbs from being -too- brittle and help his accuracy and range with his spikes)<br/>
CCE: 5.2 out of 10 (can hold his own moderately well, but his magic can't hold his brittle bones forever)<br/>
SCS: 7.4 out of 10 (able to sneak around pretty well, move at fast paces, strike fast with his claws, detect things quickly, and fire his spikes accurately)</div>
</div><br/><i>Rage...is such a fickle thing...it has the power to give one strength...but yet the power, to make one weak...</i><br/><br/>Thoughts and images kept rampaging through Razor's mind...it was hard, not to think. To not think about all the things had experienced in this world as he lived his life. Even as he traveled through vast grasslands and dense forests...he could not forget. And he searched high and low...for something. He didn't know what exactly, just that he was searching for something. Something to make him see, perhaps. Which was funny, considering that he was a blind man.<br/><br/>It didn't help that he had to leave everything he knew and cared about behind. His last friend on this world, and those people that he could of been friends with...and their glorious adventures. No, no...he had to leave...it was for their own good. It had all started with this damned pixies...he hadn't had an episode in so long...he thought that he had his rage all under control. But mo, those damned buggers...they caused him to let loose again, make him lose himself to the fury that had been plaguing him since as long as he could remember. And while yes it did help him save some of his friends...he had hurt them too because of it...the blood of the girl on his claws (though he didn't horribly injure her, just caused some scratches) and practically throwing around that vulpari (who was being mind-controlled at the time)...he was only able to keep so much of his sanity during that time, he could have killed them...it would been so easy to completely let go and not let even the death of innocence phase him in his blood rage.<br/><br/>No, it was best that he left them…he wouldn't, nor couldn't, live with himself know that they were in danger with this still a problem. He still could feel it crawling around inside of his skull…boiling the tempered steel that was his mind. The feeling of wanting to transform into a violent, disgusting animal…that need to unleash all of his rage upon the world…to destroy everything in his path and not give a damn about it. And he knew…how it all started because of<i>him</i>…<br/><br/>Razor shook his head, which was still covered like his body…wrapped in that maroon cloak and his face covered by that black wolf mask. He didn't want to think about that<i>man</i>…that monstrous bastard that did this to him…torturing him to the point of endless agony and near insanity just for the sake of entertainment…abusing him in every sense of the word when he was a child…how enjoyed hearing the disgusting cry of his death that night when he was rescued.<br/><br/>The Ramen looked around the area that he was in, but since he couldn't really see…it was more as if he paid close attention to detail. How things felt, how they smelled, and what he heard. Not a creature was in the area where he was at, and it felt other cold…and he was alone. Just the way he liked it, for now…gave him even more time to think clearly. He thought he had gained tremendous ground…being alone and never stopping, only once in awhile to eat and drink or to take a quick nap to keep his magical energies up…it wasn't easy to keep his bones strong artificially. But mostly, he just walked and walked and walked…he didn't know how far away exactly he was from his friends, are where he originally left them at…but he knew there was no going back now…he was on his own…with his own quest to handle.<br/><br/>So, with nothing to do around here, he continued to trek on…paying attention for anything else that would change…anything that he would need to take notice of. And then, it hit him…a scent on the wind…<br/><br/><i>Is that…fire?</i><br/><br/>It smelled like fire…but not like one at a campfire. No, there weren't any loud noises around…And there was the stench of death and blood, as well as burnt wood and metal, charred, ashy scents of a battle long since done…but the wounds still fresh. A sickening feeling came into his gut as, without thinking, he ran for where the scent originated…<br/><br/>Within minutes, thanks to his incredible speed, he arrived to what he would guess a village. Death and charred humans was the scent of this place…but he could feel the heat of fires still raging, and smelt tar still burning, along with the bodies and the buildings. But he heard no commotion outside of ruined building fires…the attackers had left, and the victims were dead. The attackers had covered their tracks well, he couldn't pick up any scents over the death and destruction…the raiders knew what they were doing.<br/><br/>And then he heard it…rapid footsteps, running…ragged breathing, exertion and panic ridden. He turned to the sound and immediately ran after it…not knowing whether it was a survivor or a raider…but he didn't care, he needed to find out what happened around here. An entire village couldn't just be wiped like that, could it? How long was the attack? Who were the raiders? How many survived? He had to get answers!<br/><br/>The sounds afterwards in his chase didn't sound too pleasing. Buildings were collapsing and the fires still roared. He even heard mighty crashes of thick doors being burst open and hitting stone floors. He didn't like the sound of that as he neared a large building, if the intense heat of the flames had anything to go by. He raised a claw to cover his face, the flames making his mask become a bit hotter than usual. He couldn't stay here for long…but he had to get to this survivor…why did they go into this building?<br/><br/>And then, he heard her…a feminine voice, sweet in dialect, but plastered in fear, confusion, and desperation…a plea to a God, asking for forgiveness and begging for salvation during a time where none would be found. He cursed to himself…at least she was survivor…but was she really so thick headed as to do this sort of thing while inside of a building that was about to collapse and kill her? Matter of fact, didn't she worsen the situation by bursting<i>into</i>the building?<br/><br/>Not bothering to go too deep with the criticism, Razor got closer to the building (which he was assuming was a chapel or something) and tried to find a way in outside of the main exit…she was more than likely at an alter which would be too far away from the entrance. He had been to some of the Human’s churches, and Foran would describe the design of the places…they all seemed to share common design.<br/><br/>He had used her constant beseeching to figure out where exactly she was as he mapped out the flaming walls of the church. They didn't see<i>that</i>sturdy thanks to the damage they received in the raid. But he didn't want to take many chances. He eventually found his solution…a broken window…and it was close enough to the girl where he could do his rescue.<br/><br/>Taking a deep breath, time seemed to have slowed down for Razor as he backed up, and dashed towards the window. He knew that in most churches, chapels, and cathedrals, the windows mirrored each other. There was another window on the other side of the church directly in front of him. He built good momentum and jumped high as he vaulted through the window, hoping his cloak didn't get snagged by any broken glass…this thing was expensive.<br/><br/>Not caring for any injuries, he let his clawed feet grasp at the ground and then unclenched as he had steady footing and ran forward. The girl didn't notice him as she continued to pray to her God, which gave him the perfect target. He kept running straight forward, claws outstretched in front of him as he readied for the inevitable. Thanks to his speed, he got to her in no time, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up in one swift motion as he continued to run forwards, using the heat he was feeling on front of him quickening as a gauge as to how far he was from the burning wall in front of him. After a bit, he decided to take a risk and jumped into the air with his good bit of forward motion, causing him to leap through the opposite window (which promptly shattered, showing that it, at least, had some glass still in place).<br/><br/>He mostly used his body to shield the girl from everything as he flew through the window in the burning wall. He felt the cool air greeting him as they exited the chapel and they started to go towards the ground, his motion causing them to roll and tumble as the momentum made them continue to get further away from the church.<br/><br/>Two sounds rang in the air at that moment…the crash of the chapel collapsing in on itself, crushing everything that was inside…and the cracking of bones from Razor, whom added a third sound with a hiss of pain. When they had connected with the ground, Razor had let go of the woman, allowing her to roll away from him a bit. But now he was on the ground, his cloak-like robes still covering most of his body as he hunched over on the ground, cradling his broken arm. His magics might have helped strengthen his bones, but they were still somewhat weak, and normal person could have sustained a broken bone in a stunt like that.<br/><br/>He stayed like that on the ground, cradling his broken arm, hissing in pain and shock as the moment washed over him…he had almost killed himself trying to save someone, and got a broken arm because of it. This place smelled of death and buildings were collapsing all around them. But at least they were safe for the time being, now he just needed to get over the shock of his arm so he could mend it properly…it hurt like hell!<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>