Jericho Veritas

[Jericho]

Basic Information

Name: Jericho Veritas

Nickname(s): None (yet)

Age: 27 (Nov. 25)

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 280(due to bone density)

Blood Type: A

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual

Eye Color: Silver

Hair: White 

Pass Time Information

Hobbies: Whittling

Talents: High pain tolerance (side effect of his qi), expert whittler, and extraordinary learning/memory capabilities, though in a world with little need for science or complex mathematics, such an ability has little opportunity to shine

Favorite things: Dragons, fear, and vengence

Miscellaneous:

Mental Information

Personality: Bland, logical

Mentality: Apathetic

Ideal: Expose the cowards for what they are, then crush them. Fear is one of the strongest emotions. Use it. Mercy is illogical.

Belief: There are no gods to deliver justice for us; only we are responsible for making those who wrong us pay. 

Physical Information

Build: Very toned and fit, but not buff. Lugging around heavy bone is pretty good exercise.

Defining Marks: His knuckles and finger tips are exposed bone, and his palms are constantly bruised. Behind his mask a row of bone spikes line his jaw (five on each side), curved away from his chin. His spine is covered in 1 1/2 inch wide plates, from his tail bone to the back of his neck.

Description:

History Information

    Happy endings are an illusion of the hopeless thirst that every human heart has. Every human being wants the story to leave off with everyone smiling. That’s not how this world works. Not anymore. It might have been, before the war, but now that it is a dilapidated leftover of the previous, even worse things happen. My story is the darkest proof of that. 

Me and my family lived in a beach house. It was the truest definition of such; made from lumber, built into the sandy beach, sitting a man and a half tall to protect itself from storms. We were, from what I remember, happy, me, my little brother, and our parents. We lived off of fish and the plants we grew and filtered the ocean water regularly. It was a simple life, but one that kept us from any battles and blood that raged more inland. But there had to be that day.

I was inside, whittling a figure out of some palm wood my father had chopped. Both of my parents said I was talented, and I found it entertaining. I would often make toys for myself and my little brother to play with. I remember hearing a scream from my mother, as if she had fallen. It was quick. But something about it frightened me. I, worried, quickly stood up and walked to the door. “Mother..” I called as I opened the door.

I had never known the meaning of terror until that morning. That morning when I looked up to see my mother being held down in the sand by a dozen arms that rose from the ground. They glowed purple, and no bodies were attached to them. One covered her mouth and the rest held her down, three on each limb. I heard my father shout from the distance. I could hear the terror that I had in his voice. As a child, nothing is worse than to see and hear your protectors so helpless. He came running, but before he reached my mother I heard a third voice; the only one I did not recognize. “Ah ah ah!” he taunted. Another hand sprung from the sand, grabbing my father by the foot and dragging him beside my mother. Another dozen hands emerged to hold him the same way. My little brother began to scream, but I remember it as background noise. It blended in with the waves and the wind. I stood frozen in the door way.

First, he touched my mother and taunted my father. He then found me. The hands took me as they took my parents and brought me to him. He told them that before he raped me, he would send my little brother out to sea, promising that his minions would guide him along the current to a good home, as some sort of twisted definition of a benevolent repayment. For the next three days, he told me that if I let him do as he willed with me, and I didn’t struggle, that he would take care of my parents and let them go. So I let him have his way. When he wasn’t having his way with me, he left me outside, chained by one of the hands like a dog, by my parents. Sometimes he would use my mother like he used me. For those three days I watched them hate existence, lose hope, and slowly thirst to death. Even after death the hands did not let go, nor did he stop leaving me outside or using my mother. He swore to me that he could bring them back from the dead if I let him have just one more day. After a week, he ceased to use my mother’s corpse, and thus only had me. I once heard him say that I impressed him, because no other boy had survived his beatings this long. I had no reason to hope. No reason to resist. No reason to live. 


Months went by. I found that it was best that I lose feeling, both physical and emotional. They served me no purpose. He gradually used me less until it was only three times a week. But just as one day was all it took for my life to change to a nightmare, one day was all it took for his to do the same.

My hands were held by the purple hands, and he began to remove his clothes when something came over me. Something that made every bone in my body want to lurch at him. For the first time in those months, I felt. Not just something. Everything. Every ounce of rage and grief and hopelessness and sadness soaked my body. Tears came streaming down my face and my vocal chords shot. A scream came from me as my chest lifted up. My wrists broke, allowing my hands to slip through. My right hand slapped his face with every muscle I had. Shock swept across his face. He began to speak by I refused to let him have such a privilege. My left hand, with a wrist already snapped back together, came across and punched him with spiked knuckles. I didn’t know in that moment where the spikes came from, but I did not care. My voice still screaming, my right hand mirrored what the other had done, and they continued in the pattern in quick succession. If I had eased up for even a second, I knew the hands he controlled would stop me. I continued until he was unconscious and bloodied. Then I stopped. The feelings had left with each punch, and now they were gone. Only strategic reasoning was left with a need for justice.

The next day he woke up, and by then I had learned that I controlled my bones themselves. So I had nailed him to two wooden beams in the shape of a cross. Holding him down was three bone stakes that I had fashioned; one through each wrist, and one through his feet. I had stabbed a needle that projected out from my finger bone through the bottom of his mouth and tongue and it began to poke through the roof of his mouth. He began to scream but I stopped him, only so that he could hear what I spoke. “If I feel anything touch me, I will impale your skull and you will quickly die.” Even though I was only 11, I could tell he valued his life too much to die. He knew that, in any belief, whatever awaited him after this life was nothing he wished to be a part of. I then, with my other hand, picked up a rusty saw that my father had used when I was a toddler to cut trees, and I sawed his hand off. I did the same to the other. Logically, I knew he couldn’t control hands if he no longer knew what it felt like to have them. I was correct.

For the following years, I spent every day of my life cutting into him. I made sure to keep him alive. Whatever awaited him after this life, if anything, would be eternal. I found it reasonable to add as much as I could onto such a sentence. I used him as a dummy as I experimented with my powers; I marked into his skin the days and used him as a calendar. His screams and pleas became like the ocean waves; mere background noise.

One day, a traveler walking among the shore told me of the events happening inland. Of how a ruler named Rai, the supposed "Crimson King", now had the territory in control. I decided I needed a change of scenery. My life couldn’t be totally wasted on a waste of space, oxygen, and matter. So I went inside my house and picked up the rusty saw once more. First I freed him from the cross. He fell to the floor and I saw a pathetic glimpse of hope in his eyes. I slit his Achilles' tendons, and behind his knees so he could not run. Usually, one would resist, but I assured him he would return to the cross if he made any kick. It took some time with the rusty and use of the saw being so great, but the diet I had been feeding him all those years kept him weak, so his pained twitches of reflex did slow the process any further. I then gathered up my things, and set the house ablaze. I stood there on that horrid beach as I was sure to wait and watch him burn to death. After I inserted one last needle through his skull for assurance, I went on my way to find a new life.


And a new life I found. I discovered a land that was indeed in order. I was impressed. The supposed Crimson King did well. So I joined his ranks. My goal was to do anything i could to rise to the top and serve by his side. When I was 27, that goal was met. He called me into his chambers along with one other trainee to find his very own son. That was the start of a long and new journey. Little did i know what it held.. 

Stats

Starting:

Attack: 11
Defense: 11
Speed: 6
Perception: 7
Energy: 15

Attack: 21 {/30}
Defense: 22 {/30}
Speed: 16 {/30}
Perception: 16 {/30}
Energy: 25 {/30}

With items:

Attack: 21
Defense: 39
Speed: 16
Perception: 16
Energy: 25

Qi

Curse of the Skeleton King: Jericho has the ability to manipulate his bones.

Protrusions: Out of points such as his fingertips, elbows, knees, knuckles, and really anywhere there's bone, Jericho can eject it from his skin and form it into different shapes such as blades, hooks, needles, etc. (+50% Eng to Atk)

Densify/Harden/Lighten/Hollow: Jericho can manipulate the thickness and density of his bones. He can choose one of four: Densify: Adding extra weight to his whole body, Jericho's punches and blocks are heavier and harder, giving him +30 to Attack and Defense, but -15 to Speed; Harden: Jericho can make his bones a little bit thicker, but not detrimentally so, adding +10 to Def and Atk; Lighten: Jericho can lighten the weight of his bones, giving him +10 Speed; Hollow: Jericho can hollow out his bones, making them extremely light, though more brittle, giving him +30 Speed but -15 Defense.

Creation: Jericho can create weapons out of his bone (+50% Eng to Eng) or shields/armor pieces (+50% Eng to Def)

Wings:

Shards:

Reseal:

Gackle Guardian - A long forgotten imaginary friend, The Gackle watches over Jericho in this realm and all others. If Jericho is about to take a killing blow the Gackle materializes in front of him and takes the full attack in Jericho's place. This kills the Gackle who will be unable to reform until a month has passed in real time.

Items

Head:

Chest: Mando Armor: +12 Def


Hands: Black Friday Rememberence Wrap (ADD ON): +5 Def
- Once per thread you can call on an approved ability from anyone your character has ever encountered, except a QC.
(wrapped around his right arm)

Legs:

Feet:

Misc:

Misc:

Special:

[Jericho]

Rewards from PMs:

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Discord (11/23/18):

Black Friday Rememberence Wrap (ADD ON): +5 Def

Once per thread you can call on an approved ability from anyone your character has ever encountered, except a QC.

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May The Fourth Be With You

Mando Armor: +12 Def

The Mando Armor is ancient, in some cases hundreds of years old. Some ancient clan of people fused crystals together and formed metal around it for some of the most durable armor ever made. It's technique of creation lost to history, but in this time of Qi and hand-to-hand combat it's usefulness has become far more prevalent.

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Happy Protaween! [MASS PM]

Protaween Misc Item - Spirit Chains! - These chains said to weight down the spirits of traitors after death can be summoned and thrown at a target to weight them down slowing them by half their speed stat. But adding that to their Atk.
(x2)

Protaween Misc Item - Protaween Bloody Machete - This Supernatural seeming Machete can cut through almost anything. If cutting through a person it causes the pain as if the part had been stabbed or cut off. This Machete lasts five posts.

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Merry Christmas [2019]


Wood from a Flying Sleigh [Material]: So one night you may or may not have seen a jolly man in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. And supposedly it was flying through the air, so of COURSE you shot at it with Qi attacks/Magic/Weapons. The only proof is this wood that happens to levitate about a foot above whatever object it's above. This material holds elemental power over ice, wind, and can even allow a person to levitate.

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[Jericho]

Rewards from Threads:

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Child's Play (Speed event):  

Gackle Guardian - A long forgotten imaginary friend, The Gackle watches over Jericho in this realm and all others. If Jericho is about to take a killing blow the Gackle materializes in front of him and takes the full attack in Jericho's place. This kills the Gackle who will be unable to reform until a month has passed in real time.

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