Bolgart Alnwick, Kishin Egg Feb 3, 2016 4:08:49 GMT -5
Post by Bolgart Alnwick on Feb 3, 2016 4:08:49 GMT -5
Bolgart; Alnwick; Kishin EggMusic
Name: Bolgart Alnwick
A Monstrous Body
Appearance: Bolgart Alnwick, stands six feet seven inches tall he is well proportioned with a slight growth to his belly giving him an indulgent appearance that borders on the fat, he has thick wavy blonde hair, a well groomed beard and a long moustache waxed into points, his mouth is filled with gold speckled teeth in the fashion of three gold teeth.
He is garbed in a long flowing coat topped with gold trimmings that lace the corners and divides of his boarders, the very act of moving sets it rippling in a flourish of cloth and gold, he has a dark grey shirt of no description underneath, he wears a foppish green hat with three peacock feathers propped up against the trim, he is constantly smiling a broad grin that boarders on the devious or mischievous, his nature leaves him slouching on a nearby structures, billowing smoke from pipe, cigar, or smoke, or all at once, he is constantly drinking and is hard to see him without smoke or bottle.
He also wears a silver chain bearing a heavy, round, silver pendant adorned with three, red gemstone. It is usually tangled in beard or other gaudy extremities. And all along his finger's are rings that have been half moulded into small figurines that have been bedazzled with gem and gold alike, the rings are gaudy and tasteless, particularly a small skull with gem encrusted eye's and it had the look of something that one wore for the look not the use.
Bolgart Alnwick, is not a fighter he is an abuser, having no formal fighting style besides the one of weight and strength he relies on surprise more than anything, improvised weapons bottles and chairs, but it all comes down to his weight and height using them to throttle opponents by bludgeoning or choking with his ham sized fist’s.
While strong if he believes he might lose or die he will flee beg or whatever it takes to survive he is by his own admission a survivor, and in a world of Titians and gods do what you have to.
Personality: Bolgart Alnwick, is a jovial creature with an indulgent twist he is a braggart set about his own selfish desires, he is best described as a thug philosopher he believes he has the world all figured out and nothing would ever surprise him, he's arrogant self centred and he justifies it all with humour and "if I didn't do it someone else would". He associates himself with the lowest of the low the interesting or the odd to boost his public appearance, he's very fond of his image and doesn't take insult very well he likes to laugh but he wants to be the one who's laughing.
He's a charmer or believes himself to be one with lavish lifestyle and preening to keep himself the centre of attention or at least an oddity, he enjoys talking to people impressing people and leading people, while this doesn't mean he's a good person he enjoys the high life and likes to work minimally for it, he'd happily shake down a store for protection money or hold someone at gun point for their wallet, but he won't massacre and butcher for its own sake he detests the stereotypes of Kishin Eggs, and regards his own condition with reverence only feeding in private, much of that however does come from fear of being caught and sentenced he still treats feeding as a private affair.
He's a successful thug, but when someone does surprise him or he's faced with a new problem well he's surprised and then his story goes into hubris and justification. While compared to other Kishin Eggs, he’s not all that bad and is all too happy to talk it out, it’s his preferred way of handling things why fight when you can talk it out, no point of dying over something stupid.
“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.”
― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic
Corrupt the Soul
Abnormal Strength, for a man of his size strength is innate but for Bolgart Alnwick, while not having the strength to lift a car or large construct he is still endowed with superior strength to the common man.
Regenerative properties, has the ability to regenerate non-lethal wounds and some minor organs in the span of one hour, while limbs, heart and lungs cannot be regenerated and are lethal to this ‘friendly’ giant.
Thick skinned, his skin is thick like leather and hard to penetrate while not indestructible it can prove a nuisance or a resistance to most things.
Madness Theme: Null
Out of your Mind
Big, there’s a larger surface area to hit and move
Hobbies: Bolgart Alnwick, free time is consumed by drinking, gambling, and debauchery he is a heavy consumer of the night time street life whether it be bars or back alley beating that leave him a wallet richer or a black eye poorer.
History: First Person "Have you ever been shell-shocked, have you ever watched the world slip limply from your grasp, snatched away. I have if that’s any consolation. I’m a monster and I eat people and that ain’t no metaphor, but that’s getting ahead of myself. I’ll start at the very beginning right from the start. I was born in Europe, small country you probably never heard of it, an alcoholic father and an alcoholic mother, thieves and gangbangers the both of them, stealing everything that ain't nailed down and even then I wouldn't put it past them to find a way to even take that, nails included. I don’t blame them, no I don’t for we’re all bound to get lost on the street dream with the taste of dust between our teeth.
And to say I was the odd one out would be a lie, as they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and I did not fall far. Petty crimes for the most part, pickpocketing to start and then worked my way up to mugging and finally robbery, I was a natural gangbanger. You know how they say there’s honour amongst thieves, well they’re wrong it was a dog eat dog world and I ate well, have you ever seen a kid from the age of nine to ten pull off his first pick pocket, enough for him to eat the week too, I have and right after I saw I bludgeoned and robbed him, I’ll never forget how quickly the whites of the eyes drain out and glaze over with that foggy glassy look. By the age of seventeen I was a member of the Handymen, you ain't ever heard of it I'm not surprised. A gang that had been busted and popped a few months after its birth, like a particularly nasty boil.
But I recall those times with an almost nostalgic feeling, even if the truth of the matter there’s nothing to look back on except beatings, both given and received. The only thing that’s worth note was the leader, a one Snieve dieve, face like a drowned fish and with breath twice as worse than the description, and boy did he have chompers something about the streets making monsters out of men. He had a way for crime, a cruelty like no other, I like to think he was born with it, came in a two for one deal with his freaky fish face. But this ain’t about Snieve Dieve, this is about me and if only freaky fish could see me now, I soon left and had a bit of cash to my name which I saved and robbed to get myself a bar, got myself a crew. The destitute and begotten, the worse of the worse.
Tastes Like Chicken, But Than Again everything does
You see I had done my fair share of crimes, burglary, theft, arson and people did die on the job some for some against, and that’s a fact of life but you ever get the feeling its a waste not that the money isn't nice but something more, you know a way to profit from all this madness like none other, and none other than me I did, next man that died I ate his soul, didn't even know the man but I remember that first taste the way that brightness wells up out of them like some kind of luminescent steam, or how everything goes glassy and pale and how all the heat begins to leave the body, I ate the man’s soul like some story teller’s boogyman, odd when you put it like that, I eat people."
Bolgart Alnwick, is a centralised thug who moves around western Europe, while he does travel the globe moving around sampling the various cultures and their underbellies, tho he is likely to be found in western countries due to their ease and accessibilities, he primarily hunts vagrants, homeless, and women of the night due to nature of accessibility and ability to coerce them into discrete places, he is not a vindictive Kishin Egg, and eats only roughly a fortnight depending on the situation, and will not prolong pain longer than it has too and will make it brief, strangulation is usually his method.
Current Location: Europe
Extra Notes: Null,
Behind the strings
Other characters: None, as of yet.
Face Claim: Null,
RP Sample:Please write at least a three paragraph sample of your character.
"Well," he'd say walking towards a bar his coat tails rippling with the small breeze, a cigar puffing wisps of silver grey smoke curl and dance their way through the bulk of his parted lip's, hazy air spills out as if excited to escape the gentle pull of his breath. "-lookin’ good keep, I’ll have a whisky and go heavy with the whisky." he'd say pulling the cigar from his mouth with a 'pop' dabbing the debri from the cigars head.
“Right,” he grasped the cup in his hand it was dwarfed by the sheer sized almost made invisible in his grip, his tongue lolling out running the length of his lips in a oval wetting them with a thin line of saliva, before raising the cup and drinking it down in one go. “Good stuff keep, now I want something special,” he put emphasis on the word ‘special’ gave it a life and meaning all of its own just none of it good. “you know the kind, in the back.” he conspiratorially tapped the side of his nose with a sausage like finger.
"Yeah, she's all yours." the keep said gesturing back with an absent minded thrust of his thumb and forefinger pointing to a back room obscure by a few curtains, he swaggered past his head trailing smoke like an open forge left to burn, smoke made pictures in the air swirling above him like a greasy grey halo, he entered.
A girl called out as he entered the room she was one of those dancer who didn't appear on the book but still got payed, and she was cast from molten metal, a fiery beauty, sculpted upon her creamy face like dazzling jewels. Tails of molten red tumbled out of her scalp, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Cherry lips, crystal white teeth: she truly was a beautiful sight to behold. Like all addiction Bolgart Alnwick, planned to enjoy this one, dancing, eye's like flat porcelain disks large and wide fixed on the women he reached out clapping her shoulders sliding his hand up her and finally to her neck, she didn't look worried she looked intrigued as much as one could after years of being payed to do this sort of stuff, but intrigue turns to horror as he squeezed, veins began to appear popping out on her neck like small red lines on molten rock before finally cracking open, than colour started to drain, eyes bulging as blood was restricted and than 'crack'. Limp, lifeless, no more, Adieu.
A small light welled up and out of the body like a wisp of fog given colour from some alien blue light, the giants hand groped at it feeling it rolling it in his palm before placing it in his open mouth with a wet sucking sound he chewed than swallowed, did you chew these sort of things? He threw some money at the limp form and stood gaining height pushing back the curtain and left the confines of that dark room, he walked out nodded to the keep than ran, he'd have to leave town.