Reaver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonstomper48) wrote2013-10-04 01:39 am
dragonstomper48) wrote2013-10-04 01:39 am
Entry tags:
Application - Amat Omnes
CHARACTER FACTS
» Name: Reaver
» Canon: Fable II & III
» Reference: http://fable.wikia.com/wiki/Reaver
» Canon Point: Following the events of “The Weight of the World.” Shortly after Reaver has fulfilled his bargain with the Shadow Court once more.
» Gender: Male
» Age: Approximately 270-280 years of age. The man who would become Reaver is referenced as being a “young man” at the time of the destruction of Oakvale, 200 years prior to the events of Fable II. Fable II is listed to have occurred 50 years prior to the events of Fable III, which transpires over the period of roughly 1-2 years. Overall, this places Reaver's age in the general region of 270-280, though it is unlikely that he even bothers to remember exactly how old he is. He appears to be a man in his late 20s or early 30s.
CHARACTER INTERPRETATION
» Appearance:
Reaver is an extremely tall, almost statuesque figure who appears to be at the cusp of his thirties. He stands with perfect, ram-rod straight precision and confidence and looks down with bemusement at everything that surrounds him. There is a perpetual sneer or smug grin on his angular features, framing the thin line of his attractive and rogueish lips perfectly. He has black, almost greasy hair, styled precisely to show off its luster and volume and dark, brown eyes on the border of black. A small, black heart mark stands out underneath his left eye on the cheekbone.
Everything with Reaver is an economy of motion. In some ways, it comes from an extreme indolence and laziness that permeates everything he does, a lack of desire painted all over his severe features. On the other, he shows a complete lack of willingness to use anything more than the exact motion and energy necessary to carry out the task that is laid out before him. When he speaks, he has a penchant for exceptionally ornate speech, choosing unnecessarily long and complex phrases, but at the same time electing to say as little as strictly necessary to get his point, causing him to sound a combination of arrogant, flippant, precise, intellectual and lazy all at once.
» Suitability: N/A
» Orientation: Omnisexual. Reaver demonstrates on numerous occasions in the canon that his capable and willing to have sex with literally anything, regardless of gender, gender-identity, species, sexual preference, willingness and consent, social taboos, or any other form of restriction. In Fable III, the orgiastic event that the Hero of Brightwall crashes in order to rescue a resistance member from is comprised of numerous individuals with whom Reaver is implied or stated to slake his sexual appetites, a large cadre of whom are Balvarines (Werewolf-like shapeshifters). He is quite lurid throughout his various diary inclusions in details about his sexual escapades with any number of different people, regardless of gender and shows equal interest in both the Hero of Brightwall and the Hero of Bowerstone regardless of gender. His responses literally do not change, and he flirts quite openly with the Hero, even if his life is threatened by them. At one point, in entering a private sanctum in his mansion, the Hero is treated to every chest in the entire chamber containing condoms save one “Summon Creature” potion, implying just how bizarre his appetites can be at times, and how jaded his sensibilities are. Considering the implications of almost countless examples throughout both the Fable II and Fable III canons, it is safe to assume that even Reaver has lost track of how many different sexual partners, races, genders or species he's slept with.
» Personality
Reaver, as he has come to be called since the days in which he took down the Pirate King, has long since lost any real purpose in keeping his original name. Whatever glimmers of his old self linger on in the occasional nightmare and the few lingering doubts over his actions have been stamped so far into his subconscious as to be unrecognizable to any who might have once known him. Of course, this is just as well, as everyone who ever knew the boy that he once was has been dead for well over two centuries. As he says to himself in his own journal writings, that naive young man is dead long ago, and only Reaver remains.
Reaver is an arrogant, amoral, charismatic, deviant, depraved sociopath with exceptionally jaded sensibilities. In his youth, he was a humble young man who had a lover in his hometown of Oakvale. Deeply afraid of dying, he learned a means by which to summon the Shadows into his presence and conjured the powerful entities known as the Shadow Court, bartering with them for immortality and freedom from aging. He did not recognize the “down payment” that would be demanded by the Court, the lives of everyone in Oakvale, until it was too late. Every year afterwards, he would be forced to bring a sacrifice to age on his behalf that he might retain his eternal youth. That young man lamented for years over his deeds, but with the passage of decades a profound ennui began to settle in, one that increasingly overwhelmed him as he developed greater and greater ambitions. Though there is still a sense in which he fears death in ways that are difficult for many to understand, he has developed a sort of eternal ennui and tiredness from the extensive length of his contract with the Shadow Court. He is weary, so very weary, but more than that, he is also extremely bored.
Over the centuries, Reaver increasingly saw little point in the futility of moral or ethical debate, perceiving the whole notion as largely fruitless and idiotic. Protestations about the depravity of his actions or the deplorable way in which he treated the citizens he ruled over in Bloodstone or the employees he managed in Reaver Industries generally were met with outright amusement more than anything else, possibly included with acts of violence to punctuate his points. Reaver simply no longer cared, having seen centuries of human beings come and go, scurrying about with their desperate attempts to prove more noble than others or somehow aspire to some semblance of greatness. Their protestations were, to him, little more than the bleating of occasionally amusing sheep nattering in his ears. He took them, used them, manipulated them, killed them and had his way with them, growing ever more powerful until he had enough that he could do basically whatever he wanted. The corpses of his enemies lay strewn before him, and he carved first an empire out of the carcass of the Pirate King's fleet and later put to pasture all of that inconvenient past by making himself out as a “legitimate businessman” in the service of the crown, taking over Faraday Industries and renaming them after himself. With ruthless tactics, whether a legal and “honest” businessman, or an underhanded pirate and a crook, he crushed opposition and laid claim to all of the resources he could wrap his fingers around.
Reaver has seen it all. He has lived the experiences out of many lesser men, and he finds almost all of them to be completely beneath contempt, feeling absolutely no compunctions about abusing, manipulating, cheating, stealing from, hurting, torturing, killing or otherwise maligning them. He possesses not a shred of fear that there would be any sort of reprisal for his actions, being supremely confident in his abilities to handle almost any situation. Given his track-record of defeating virtually every opponent for hundreds of years with barely even breaking a sweat, it is little wonder that he tends to be an arrogant and demeaning soul to almost everyone he meets. He is flippant towards most people, especially when he is being threatened, accused or generally accosted, and rarely takes anything particularly seriously, bandying off almost anyone as if they were a joke. Reaver is egotistical to his core, believing his own perspective to be the best in any situation. He adores having likenesses of himself fashioned, but is incredibly picky about their content, having been known to kill people for the slightest imperfections in his form.
He is an ambitious man, but not seemingly out of any sort of desire to be a man of great power or prestige. Given the scale of his talents, the potential that he had at various points to achieve more than he did is quite high. Instead, rather, he would seek out new experiences, new horizons and new opportunities. Once he holds a seat of enough wealth and power (such as Bloodstone, the Pirate King's position or Reaver Industries), he becomes less restless, simply abusing the limited power to get more of his cheap thrills. This all works as long as he has enough wealth with which to slake his every jaded and debauched whim, and also pit him against ever increasingly dangerous threats who might potentially pose a fragment of a challenge. Notable among these was the Pirate King who he took down in claiming the control over Bloodstone, and his earned reputation as a man who would stand on the prow of his ship, seek out an opposing ship's captain and shoot them at seemingly impossible ranges, causing many vessels to surrender off hand. It was an act that he seemingly undertook merely for the challenge of the feat and the added wealth with which he could hold sumptuous and lavish parties to alleviate his boredom. His interest in the Hero of Bowerstone appears to have been increased significantly merely because of the uniqueness of them as a 'catch' for having escaped Lucien's grasp somehow.
For as much an ambitious man as him, Reaver is also a man who is exceedingly tired, lazy, indolent and bored. His ambitions only stretch so far, and he lacks the will to bother with greater efforts. Nowhere is this seen more clearly than in a fight for his life. He makes the minimum of movement strictly necessary to do anything. When Page takes fire at him, he blocks a bullet with a bare motion of his cane and walks off without even a minimal care for potential threats. In combat against Lucien's forces trying to capture both he and the Hero of Bowerstone, he rarely uses the full extent of his abilities, only doing so once, ostensibly to show off to the Hero and give them something for their children to talk about. When he moves, it is rarely within any real haste, and though he does love to hear the sound of his own voice, he tends to use only just so many actual words as to say what he wishes, usually in the most officious of ways possible.
All of the above is not to say that Reaver's colossal ego comes without the intelligence to back it up. He is, in fact, considerably well read and speaks with a great deal of eloquence. He likes to pepper advanced vocabulary into his speeches, along with the occasional french phrase at random intervals. However, he rarely speaks at any length, and seems to grow easily bored with conversation if someone has not suited his fancy. However, while educated through countless years of observation and large quantities of books read when the opportunity has presented itself, Reaver rarely shows himself to be a true expert at any field.
Very few are the individuals who actually develop any sort of 'real' connection with Reaver. He has quite the memory for his many escapades, but convincing anything more than the vaguest of references to such sordid acts is generally impossible, as he prefers to annoy people with unclear and mysterious implications of scandal more than anything else. Those few individuals who have stood out have almost invariably been in some fashion unique and unusual. Both of the Heroes of Brightwall and Bowerstone drew considerable interest from him at points. The latter of these was a largely antagonistic relationship of necessity, the two of them having a more or less mutual enemy in the form of Lucien in the long run. However, the Hero of Bowerstone was also not one that actively sought out Reaver to continue this rivalry or distaste, their original issue being one that was accepted as simply part and parcel of the needs of dealing with the Spire. Reaver was not the only distasteful individual that the Hero had been forced to deal with, and was infinitely less a problem than Lucien. When he was transported by Theresa with Garth away, the Hero largely left him to his own devices. The Hero of Brightwall, on the other hand, develops a considerably greater relationship with Reaver. However, despite frequent flirtations and an open offer of sexual congress, Reaver never consummates any real closeness with either Hero. Instead, the relationship can best be termed 'professional,' with hints of an ongoing animosity derived from the attempts on the Hero's life during the rebellion. Regardless of this, the Hero of Brightwall is forced to continue to work with Reaver as both of them deem the threat of the Crawler to be a much more dangerous one than each other and focus their joint efforts against the unholy creation.
Garth and Hammer both represent relationships of considerably greater animosity than the Heroes. Despite the fact that he tried to kill both Heroes, they both react as if they really did have far bigger fish to fry than to bother with trying to deal with Reaver once and for all. In Garth and Hammer's respective cases, however, the heroes displayed almost completely irreconcilable world-views. Hammer is a woman of violence only out of bitterness and hatred towards a villain that took everything from her. In every other way, she seeks to live a life that is selfless and focused on the protection of others. To her, Reaver is as bad as Lucien and a monster that needs to be put down. Working with him is outright distasteful to her. Page's relationship with him fifty years later, showing that in many respects he seems incapable of avoiding an anatagonistic relationship with a paladin or social-justice lover like these women.
However, even in the case of a pragmatist like Garth, it is less that there is an outright distaste for his tactics so much a general displeasure with his personal behavior. Garth is a pragmatist at heart and displays a willingness to do whatever is needed to bring down Lucien, and therefore has little problems with Reaver's tactics, so long as the goal is one that he desires to see accomplished. Beyond this, though, he shows a diffident neutrality that subsequent references in “Reaver on Reaver” imply grow increasingly violent and ultimately lead to an attempt on each other's lives when Reaver has largely outstayed his welcome in the lands of Samarkand.
SAMPLES
At least one sample MUST demonstrate your character's feelings about or reactions to sex!
» First Person Sample Choice: Prompt 3
[Not for the first time, Reaver makes an appearance on the network. He is practically beaming as he stands ram-rod straight and facing the camera angle. There is a firm 'rap' sound as he taps the cobblestones on which he is standing, directing his audience to be quiet and pay attention. Behind him is a sizable structure, one that is familiar to those who visit the docks as a warehouse in disuse up until very recently. A bustle of workers, most of them outsiders, can be seen setting up behind him.]
It my honor and privilege to introduce to the unwashed masses the first of what is certain to be a considerable series of financial ventures of the newly re-minted Reaver Industries. I present to you Reaver Industries Fish Hatchery! [He is practically effervescent with pride.] Now, to help suit all of this island's ever growing demand for only the finest in aquatic consumption of exotic delicacies less common to such tropical climes, you need look no further than our humble services to receive the bounties of mother nature...
For a modest compensation of course.
[Feeling his work here to be done, he shuts the feed off and relaxes. For once, he really doesn't expect to bask in the glow of the adoring public. Really, he doubts any of the churls will actually pay attention, though the buy-out should have caught at least one or two interested parties and perhaps at least thrown a gauntlet or three onto the ground in the matters of interesting. Perhaps he might even acquire from the mixture of this rabble some borderline semblance of a rivalry to pass the waning eons of an otherwise dull and humdrum existence.
At the very least, he could screw the dock workers if he got truly bored. That would pass at least one evening.]
» Third Person Sample Choice: Prompt 2
Reaver swirled a glass of cognac in his hand and smelled the bouquet of the vintage. It was, quite frankly, insufferably banal. That he was forced to resort to a mere Vieux grade of the burgundy shaded liquor was the height of annoyance, almost enough to take it out on one of the quartet of lovelies he had managed to scrounge up for the evening's festivities, none of whom had held any more staying power than the cheap excuse for 'fine cognac' he was swilling.
It caused a heavy sigh of boredom to escape his lips. The blonde had been more talented than the brunette, but really he had been just as inexperienced as she and bore that thin veneer of skill perhaps because of the cut of his jawline and the supple way that his hips seemed to taper off into just the right mixture of softness and muscle tone. The only one who had born any real hope was the raven-haired girl who thought to hide her sandy brown hair with that abyssmal dye she was shading it with. She, at least, had the decency to also shave beneath the waste to hide the lack of the carpet matching the drapes, as it were, not that he minded a bit of tawdry or trampy appearance now and again. He had simply been hoping for something a bit more unique this evening, but all of them were so dreadfully pedestrian.
Another sip, and he reflected as he made a note in his personal diary to look into the aphrodisiacs available on the island again. Surely there was something that could assist him in releasing the meaningless inhibitions of these desperately dull-witted lacktards who saw fit to share the island paradise with his august personage. Breaking just one of them past their utterly futile attempts to pretend that they didn't at least enjoy the act and want to explore beyond the basics would be a triumph of the most minute grandeur. He muttered sourly at the glass and set it to the side before taking another note.
From the next room, he heard a familiar voice stirring. Yes, it was the dark-haired vixen wasn't it? Was her name Simone? Did it honestly matter? As she was padding towards the door, he smirked to himself. “Perhaps one of them wasn't a waste, after all,” he murmured to himself, a hand reaching for a package of figs that weren't too out of season, while the other sought the whip. No time like the present to begin training, now was there?
» Name: Reaver
» Canon: Fable II & III
» Reference: http://fable.wikia.com/wiki/Reaver
» Canon Point: Following the events of “The Weight of the World.” Shortly after Reaver has fulfilled his bargain with the Shadow Court once more.
» Gender: Male
» Age: Approximately 270-280 years of age. The man who would become Reaver is referenced as being a “young man” at the time of the destruction of Oakvale, 200 years prior to the events of Fable II. Fable II is listed to have occurred 50 years prior to the events of Fable III, which transpires over the period of roughly 1-2 years. Overall, this places Reaver's age in the general region of 270-280, though it is unlikely that he even bothers to remember exactly how old he is. He appears to be a man in his late 20s or early 30s.
CHARACTER INTERPRETATION
» Appearance:
Reaver is an extremely tall, almost statuesque figure who appears to be at the cusp of his thirties. He stands with perfect, ram-rod straight precision and confidence and looks down with bemusement at everything that surrounds him. There is a perpetual sneer or smug grin on his angular features, framing the thin line of his attractive and rogueish lips perfectly. He has black, almost greasy hair, styled precisely to show off its luster and volume and dark, brown eyes on the border of black. A small, black heart mark stands out underneath his left eye on the cheekbone.
Everything with Reaver is an economy of motion. In some ways, it comes from an extreme indolence and laziness that permeates everything he does, a lack of desire painted all over his severe features. On the other, he shows a complete lack of willingness to use anything more than the exact motion and energy necessary to carry out the task that is laid out before him. When he speaks, he has a penchant for exceptionally ornate speech, choosing unnecessarily long and complex phrases, but at the same time electing to say as little as strictly necessary to get his point, causing him to sound a combination of arrogant, flippant, precise, intellectual and lazy all at once.
» Suitability: N/A
» Orientation: Omnisexual. Reaver demonstrates on numerous occasions in the canon that his capable and willing to have sex with literally anything, regardless of gender, gender-identity, species, sexual preference, willingness and consent, social taboos, or any other form of restriction. In Fable III, the orgiastic event that the Hero of Brightwall crashes in order to rescue a resistance member from is comprised of numerous individuals with whom Reaver is implied or stated to slake his sexual appetites, a large cadre of whom are Balvarines (Werewolf-like shapeshifters). He is quite lurid throughout his various diary inclusions in details about his sexual escapades with any number of different people, regardless of gender and shows equal interest in both the Hero of Brightwall and the Hero of Bowerstone regardless of gender. His responses literally do not change, and he flirts quite openly with the Hero, even if his life is threatened by them. At one point, in entering a private sanctum in his mansion, the Hero is treated to every chest in the entire chamber containing condoms save one “Summon Creature” potion, implying just how bizarre his appetites can be at times, and how jaded his sensibilities are. Considering the implications of almost countless examples throughout both the Fable II and Fable III canons, it is safe to assume that even Reaver has lost track of how many different sexual partners, races, genders or species he's slept with.
» Personality
Reaver, as he has come to be called since the days in which he took down the Pirate King, has long since lost any real purpose in keeping his original name. Whatever glimmers of his old self linger on in the occasional nightmare and the few lingering doubts over his actions have been stamped so far into his subconscious as to be unrecognizable to any who might have once known him. Of course, this is just as well, as everyone who ever knew the boy that he once was has been dead for well over two centuries. As he says to himself in his own journal writings, that naive young man is dead long ago, and only Reaver remains.
Reaver is an arrogant, amoral, charismatic, deviant, depraved sociopath with exceptionally jaded sensibilities. In his youth, he was a humble young man who had a lover in his hometown of Oakvale. Deeply afraid of dying, he learned a means by which to summon the Shadows into his presence and conjured the powerful entities known as the Shadow Court, bartering with them for immortality and freedom from aging. He did not recognize the “down payment” that would be demanded by the Court, the lives of everyone in Oakvale, until it was too late. Every year afterwards, he would be forced to bring a sacrifice to age on his behalf that he might retain his eternal youth. That young man lamented for years over his deeds, but with the passage of decades a profound ennui began to settle in, one that increasingly overwhelmed him as he developed greater and greater ambitions. Though there is still a sense in which he fears death in ways that are difficult for many to understand, he has developed a sort of eternal ennui and tiredness from the extensive length of his contract with the Shadow Court. He is weary, so very weary, but more than that, he is also extremely bored.
Over the centuries, Reaver increasingly saw little point in the futility of moral or ethical debate, perceiving the whole notion as largely fruitless and idiotic. Protestations about the depravity of his actions or the deplorable way in which he treated the citizens he ruled over in Bloodstone or the employees he managed in Reaver Industries generally were met with outright amusement more than anything else, possibly included with acts of violence to punctuate his points. Reaver simply no longer cared, having seen centuries of human beings come and go, scurrying about with their desperate attempts to prove more noble than others or somehow aspire to some semblance of greatness. Their protestations were, to him, little more than the bleating of occasionally amusing sheep nattering in his ears. He took them, used them, manipulated them, killed them and had his way with them, growing ever more powerful until he had enough that he could do basically whatever he wanted. The corpses of his enemies lay strewn before him, and he carved first an empire out of the carcass of the Pirate King's fleet and later put to pasture all of that inconvenient past by making himself out as a “legitimate businessman” in the service of the crown, taking over Faraday Industries and renaming them after himself. With ruthless tactics, whether a legal and “honest” businessman, or an underhanded pirate and a crook, he crushed opposition and laid claim to all of the resources he could wrap his fingers around.
Reaver has seen it all. He has lived the experiences out of many lesser men, and he finds almost all of them to be completely beneath contempt, feeling absolutely no compunctions about abusing, manipulating, cheating, stealing from, hurting, torturing, killing or otherwise maligning them. He possesses not a shred of fear that there would be any sort of reprisal for his actions, being supremely confident in his abilities to handle almost any situation. Given his track-record of defeating virtually every opponent for hundreds of years with barely even breaking a sweat, it is little wonder that he tends to be an arrogant and demeaning soul to almost everyone he meets. He is flippant towards most people, especially when he is being threatened, accused or generally accosted, and rarely takes anything particularly seriously, bandying off almost anyone as if they were a joke. Reaver is egotistical to his core, believing his own perspective to be the best in any situation. He adores having likenesses of himself fashioned, but is incredibly picky about their content, having been known to kill people for the slightest imperfections in his form.
He is an ambitious man, but not seemingly out of any sort of desire to be a man of great power or prestige. Given the scale of his talents, the potential that he had at various points to achieve more than he did is quite high. Instead, rather, he would seek out new experiences, new horizons and new opportunities. Once he holds a seat of enough wealth and power (such as Bloodstone, the Pirate King's position or Reaver Industries), he becomes less restless, simply abusing the limited power to get more of his cheap thrills. This all works as long as he has enough wealth with which to slake his every jaded and debauched whim, and also pit him against ever increasingly dangerous threats who might potentially pose a fragment of a challenge. Notable among these was the Pirate King who he took down in claiming the control over Bloodstone, and his earned reputation as a man who would stand on the prow of his ship, seek out an opposing ship's captain and shoot them at seemingly impossible ranges, causing many vessels to surrender off hand. It was an act that he seemingly undertook merely for the challenge of the feat and the added wealth with which he could hold sumptuous and lavish parties to alleviate his boredom. His interest in the Hero of Bowerstone appears to have been increased significantly merely because of the uniqueness of them as a 'catch' for having escaped Lucien's grasp somehow.
For as much an ambitious man as him, Reaver is also a man who is exceedingly tired, lazy, indolent and bored. His ambitions only stretch so far, and he lacks the will to bother with greater efforts. Nowhere is this seen more clearly than in a fight for his life. He makes the minimum of movement strictly necessary to do anything. When Page takes fire at him, he blocks a bullet with a bare motion of his cane and walks off without even a minimal care for potential threats. In combat against Lucien's forces trying to capture both he and the Hero of Bowerstone, he rarely uses the full extent of his abilities, only doing so once, ostensibly to show off to the Hero and give them something for their children to talk about. When he moves, it is rarely within any real haste, and though he does love to hear the sound of his own voice, he tends to use only just so many actual words as to say what he wishes, usually in the most officious of ways possible.
All of the above is not to say that Reaver's colossal ego comes without the intelligence to back it up. He is, in fact, considerably well read and speaks with a great deal of eloquence. He likes to pepper advanced vocabulary into his speeches, along with the occasional french phrase at random intervals. However, he rarely speaks at any length, and seems to grow easily bored with conversation if someone has not suited his fancy. However, while educated through countless years of observation and large quantities of books read when the opportunity has presented itself, Reaver rarely shows himself to be a true expert at any field.
Very few are the individuals who actually develop any sort of 'real' connection with Reaver. He has quite the memory for his many escapades, but convincing anything more than the vaguest of references to such sordid acts is generally impossible, as he prefers to annoy people with unclear and mysterious implications of scandal more than anything else. Those few individuals who have stood out have almost invariably been in some fashion unique and unusual. Both of the Heroes of Brightwall and Bowerstone drew considerable interest from him at points. The latter of these was a largely antagonistic relationship of necessity, the two of them having a more or less mutual enemy in the form of Lucien in the long run. However, the Hero of Bowerstone was also not one that actively sought out Reaver to continue this rivalry or distaste, their original issue being one that was accepted as simply part and parcel of the needs of dealing with the Spire. Reaver was not the only distasteful individual that the Hero had been forced to deal with, and was infinitely less a problem than Lucien. When he was transported by Theresa with Garth away, the Hero largely left him to his own devices. The Hero of Brightwall, on the other hand, develops a considerably greater relationship with Reaver. However, despite frequent flirtations and an open offer of sexual congress, Reaver never consummates any real closeness with either Hero. Instead, the relationship can best be termed 'professional,' with hints of an ongoing animosity derived from the attempts on the Hero's life during the rebellion. Regardless of this, the Hero of Brightwall is forced to continue to work with Reaver as both of them deem the threat of the Crawler to be a much more dangerous one than each other and focus their joint efforts against the unholy creation.
Garth and Hammer both represent relationships of considerably greater animosity than the Heroes. Despite the fact that he tried to kill both Heroes, they both react as if they really did have far bigger fish to fry than to bother with trying to deal with Reaver once and for all. In Garth and Hammer's respective cases, however, the heroes displayed almost completely irreconcilable world-views. Hammer is a woman of violence only out of bitterness and hatred towards a villain that took everything from her. In every other way, she seeks to live a life that is selfless and focused on the protection of others. To her, Reaver is as bad as Lucien and a monster that needs to be put down. Working with him is outright distasteful to her. Page's relationship with him fifty years later, showing that in many respects he seems incapable of avoiding an anatagonistic relationship with a paladin or social-justice lover like these women.
However, even in the case of a pragmatist like Garth, it is less that there is an outright distaste for his tactics so much a general displeasure with his personal behavior. Garth is a pragmatist at heart and displays a willingness to do whatever is needed to bring down Lucien, and therefore has little problems with Reaver's tactics, so long as the goal is one that he desires to see accomplished. Beyond this, though, he shows a diffident neutrality that subsequent references in “Reaver on Reaver” imply grow increasingly violent and ultimately lead to an attempt on each other's lives when Reaver has largely outstayed his welcome in the lands of Samarkand.
SAMPLES
At least one sample MUST demonstrate your character's feelings about or reactions to sex!
» First Person Sample Choice: Prompt 3
[Not for the first time, Reaver makes an appearance on the network. He is practically beaming as he stands ram-rod straight and facing the camera angle. There is a firm 'rap' sound as he taps the cobblestones on which he is standing, directing his audience to be quiet and pay attention. Behind him is a sizable structure, one that is familiar to those who visit the docks as a warehouse in disuse up until very recently. A bustle of workers, most of them outsiders, can be seen setting up behind him.]
It my honor and privilege to introduce to the unwashed masses the first of what is certain to be a considerable series of financial ventures of the newly re-minted Reaver Industries. I present to you Reaver Industries Fish Hatchery! [He is practically effervescent with pride.] Now, to help suit all of this island's ever growing demand for only the finest in aquatic consumption of exotic delicacies less common to such tropical climes, you need look no further than our humble services to receive the bounties of mother nature...
For a modest compensation of course.
[Feeling his work here to be done, he shuts the feed off and relaxes. For once, he really doesn't expect to bask in the glow of the adoring public. Really, he doubts any of the churls will actually pay attention, though the buy-out should have caught at least one or two interested parties and perhaps at least thrown a gauntlet or three onto the ground in the matters of interesting. Perhaps he might even acquire from the mixture of this rabble some borderline semblance of a rivalry to pass the waning eons of an otherwise dull and humdrum existence.
At the very least, he could screw the dock workers if he got truly bored. That would pass at least one evening.]
» Third Person Sample Choice: Prompt 2
Reaver swirled a glass of cognac in his hand and smelled the bouquet of the vintage. It was, quite frankly, insufferably banal. That he was forced to resort to a mere Vieux grade of the burgundy shaded liquor was the height of annoyance, almost enough to take it out on one of the quartet of lovelies he had managed to scrounge up for the evening's festivities, none of whom had held any more staying power than the cheap excuse for 'fine cognac' he was swilling.
It caused a heavy sigh of boredom to escape his lips. The blonde had been more talented than the brunette, but really he had been just as inexperienced as she and bore that thin veneer of skill perhaps because of the cut of his jawline and the supple way that his hips seemed to taper off into just the right mixture of softness and muscle tone. The only one who had born any real hope was the raven-haired girl who thought to hide her sandy brown hair with that abyssmal dye she was shading it with. She, at least, had the decency to also shave beneath the waste to hide the lack of the carpet matching the drapes, as it were, not that he minded a bit of tawdry or trampy appearance now and again. He had simply been hoping for something a bit more unique this evening, but all of them were so dreadfully pedestrian.
Another sip, and he reflected as he made a note in his personal diary to look into the aphrodisiacs available on the island again. Surely there was something that could assist him in releasing the meaningless inhibitions of these desperately dull-witted lacktards who saw fit to share the island paradise with his august personage. Breaking just one of them past their utterly futile attempts to pretend that they didn't at least enjoy the act and want to explore beyond the basics would be a triumph of the most minute grandeur. He muttered sourly at the glass and set it to the side before taking another note.
From the next room, he heard a familiar voice stirring. Yes, it was the dark-haired vixen wasn't it? Was her name Simone? Did it honestly matter? As she was padding towards the door, he smirked to himself. “Perhaps one of them wasn't a waste, after all,” he murmured to himself, a hand reaching for a package of figs that weren't too out of season, while the other sought the whip. No time like the present to begin training, now was there?