DONE :: Eight :: Rene Rallis

APPEARANCE
Open close, open close. Scars cut deep down my back but are never seen. I have closed them, covered them hidden them. They are part of me forever and I hate them. Open close, open close. Ugly, they are, as they run down my back like a crag of a canyon, painted red. Stitched up poorly and lumpy from swelling. My back is a story that no one can read.

My hair is dark brown that verges on black. It's like my sins have darkened my spirit and my hair has followed. My skin contrasts in a pasty white, the only defining feature being the red lines drawn on my cheeks from stray slashes and cuts. My lips are cracked and my eyes bloodshot, always searching for something new. I am gaunt, underfed and starving. Land of the dead. My cheeks are hollowed and my frame thin. I stand little over six foot, but I look shorter as a result of my slumped figure. My arms are thin, but are decorated with legend. Tattoos dance up my arms in red and black and green, each telling a tale of something beyond me.

I tend to wear dark clothing, to fit in with the shadows. I become a spectre. Man from the lost city. Cittàgazze. Any decent clothing I own has been slashed up or ripped, and anything else is dirty, frayed and tattered. My shoes have holes in them and my jumpers are thin and offer little protection from the harsh outside.

PERSONALITY

Godkiller. They call me Godkiller. Aesahaettr. Names are nothing, titles are just opinions. I am Rene Rallis and I am lost. Open, close, open, close. Our world. Opportunities not taken, missed, the doors close and my face drops. Open. I can't open them, they are locked now, chances I have thrown away. I want to be more, I want to be great. Godkiller is already great, they say, but what do they know of me? I want more. I always want more.

Aesahaettr is harsh, his words cut deep. I make my opinions known to others. I like to pick out the flaws in people, show the world what they are. I open them up, so I can see inside them. I know them. I'm unpredictable. I like to keep people on their toes, on the edge of a blade. I like to watch them fall as I surprise them. Some call me nasty, I call it tempting chaos. I like disturbing the normal and standing out. Am I weird? No. I am necessary.

I have my own destiny, I am not some object of someone else's dreams. My path is not set out for me, I carve out my own path. I am not necessarily what people could call moral. At times I can be quite the sadist, reveling in the pain of others. I am not a good guy, nor a hero. I am a Godkiller, simple as that. I have an uncontrollable desire for balance. I need things to be equal. This makes me hate injustice and corruption. I feel that when I give things to people, I need to take too. In addition I won't leave a favor unrewarded.

HISTORY
I like knives. Pretty little things. These cuts, the ones that run down my back lightning red, they are from knives. Their world. Knife fights, violence, pain I cause myself. It's messy. It's horribly messy. Yet knives are so perfect. Not the fancy knife with the decorative hilt and the beautiful blade, nor the crafty knife that stabs you in the back, not even the loud, powerful, unstoppable knife that seeks murder. No, those knives are ugly. The knife I love is the slow knife. The quiet knife. The subtle knife. That's the most effective.

Born in Two, Republic of Haven, moved to Eight with my father. Always said that it was better to raise a kid away from all the madness in Two. "No son of mine will ever grow up to be a Career."[/i] He was wrong, so wrong, so wrong. Out here a boy craves violence, he's got to vent it somehow. By making me isolated from others he has made me something I never wanted to be. A machine. Deadly, precise, clean. He sent me to school and made me work hard but he could only delay what I would eventually become. This. This crazy, driven psychopath.

I am a fighter, always have been. Give a boy an apple and he'll eat it, give a boy a book and he'll read it, give a boy a knife and he'll turn into something darker. Knife fights in the streets. Gang on gang, boy on boy. Never taken a life, Ripred no, I'm not a murderer. The game is new, it's different, it's fun. Slashing the backs and chests of others, making them bleed but never killing them. It's not stabbing, it's slashing. When I win, and I always win, I take what is mine. My reward. I take their fingers, so they may never wield a knife again. Keep 'em in a jar, I do, in my house. My collection grows and my reputation follows. They fear the Godkiller. Godkiller takes your talent, takes your pride. He makes you mortal. Will I stop? Probably not. Probably when someone takes Aesahaettr's fingers and makes him normal again. Maybe then, when I am bested. When I meet the Godkillerkiller.[/size][/blockquote][/color]

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