Post by High's .Valentine. on May 14, 2008 2:32:27 GMT -5
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.user.information.
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Username:
Northie [High]
Gender:
Despite all things said and done, still very female.
Other Character(s):
None
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.general.character.information.
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Name:
Luther Shiang
Alias:
The Black Mantis, Master Luther
Age:
Chronologically {Very very old at least 1000 years old}
Physically {36}
Gender:
Male
Race:
Humanoid/Cannibalistic Vampire
Clan:
The Mantis Clan {Unique only to Luther’s world, the Mantis Clan is a group of Vampires famous for their strange feeding style. The Vampires of the clan have the ability to feed on both humans of their world and Vampires, regardless of clan status.}
Alignment:
Neutral
Origin:
Latharai {Description in the history}
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.characteristic.depth.
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Appearance:
Personality:
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.battle.information.
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Class: Defender
Weapons:
Abilities:
Items:
Equips:
Distribution Points:
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.story.mode.
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{Latharai and His Legacy: The Mantis Clan} Latharai, to this day, remains a world of desolation and despair for its human population. A gothic world that had already been corroded by darkness before the heartless had even thought about setting feet into, this world was governed by magic and tragedy and consists of two main species. The Homo sapiens, ever persistent, ever unyielding, plays the submissive race in this game. Above them, the Demons and their four leading gods, or Dieus, maintain the control and the balance of the human population. The world of Latharai was the world of the Demons, and caught underneath them, the humans, were maintained and pruned by Demon authority. What most never noticed was the forgotten race caught in the middle of this food chain. The Vampires of Latharai, legendary in every spectrum of power and horror were just that—legends.
However, in the constant scuffle between the Demons and their human counterparts, this misfit race lurked, fed, grew, split, fought, and created their own legacy in the stories, even if the rest of Latharai believed them to be merely ink on paper.
These Vampires found themselves in a predicament though. Wars rise and fall in this world, and often, the Vampires find their only food source, the humans, wiped down to so few that their number cannot satisfy the constant hungers of the Vampires. Demons were harder to hunt. They possessed neither the idiocy of humans nor the weak physiques of their body. Thus, during the final days of Latharai’s Hundredth War, one clan, faced with starvation, rose up and did the unthinkable. This loose clan of Vampires brought about a revolution. In their crazed sense of hunger, the Vampires turned on their own kind, feeding on Vampire blood as if they were humans. Vampire blood were found to be better though, much more delicious than humans. The clan members found themselves in a sudden craving for Vampire blood. It filled them up much more than human blood, and the power they received from these night dwellers excited them, intoxicated them into wanting more. The clan, now allowed the energy to regroup themselves, slowly rose up in the hierarchy to become the most notorious and blood thirsty of all Vampires. Many tried to follow their example, but there can only be one hunter. The clan now called themselves the Mantis, an insect of nature that feeds on both preys and predators. Yet a larger predator comes…
{His Story}
A predator.
He grasped her neck, fumbling around for a hold so he could pull her off. Burning, it was scorching him. His neck was being torn apart. Trembling fingers shuddered along the pale long neck, lingering weakly like an intoxicated lover. Second time. This was the second time. Cool, smooth silver. Piercings. So many of them; studs, diamonds, hoops. He was in flames, but she refused to let go. He would burn her too, but she loved his warmth. He curled his long fingers around the silver. The tips where the fingernails ends were turning blue, like winter frost, yet his body was lost in an inferno. The first time he could fight her back. But this time, he knew she was going to suck him dry. She had her lover’s blood in her. And now she has his too. She ate his power, guzzled his pride, and drank his very love for her. He could not fight back. He tried to whisper her name, tell her to please leave him alone, whimper for her to not hurt him like this. But his throat had been damaged, his vocal cords ripped. Blood gurgled out, trickling from the side of his lips as if he was spewing fresh pomegranate juice that she had squeezed from the very pits of his stomach. Or perhaps he was coughing up his love for her to drink.
His fingers gripped, and his oxygen deficient muscles strained their last act. He pulled, ripping the earring right from her flesh. But she didn’t move. His dimming hearing could hear the slippery gulping and heavy breathing. There was little he could do, so he lay limp, letting the hunter do her business, the silver hoops still tight on his finger.
She kissed him before she left. It singed his forehead even as his body turns cold to the screams that were to come.
Before the predator, there is the pray.
The first time he entered Latharai, he was Lawrence, the Baker’s boy. Lawrence was a quiet child, never had much to say to the people around him. The child would enter periods of muteness, causing worrying parents and suspicious neighbors. There’s something wrong with this boy, no doubt about it, they would mutter among themselves. Yet Lawrence never bothered to defend himself. Nor did his parents ever thought about justifying his calmness. Neither was the boy a curious one, like all boys should be. Lawrence and his dark brown dog eyes and equally dark brown hair would remain on the side, watching the people around him like a hunter, his deep eyes intimidating most authority figures that ever set eyes on him. No one wanted to bother that Lawrence kid. He was bad stuff. Bad stuff, they muttered, work of voodoo. The humans of Latharai are a suspicious bunch.
But on a windy winter night, on the night of his eleventh birthday, they came for him.
They were a group of Vampires that called themselves the Mantis Clan. The Mantis Clan was the hunter of hunters. Nothing could get in their way, they ravage, they can crush anyone under their hands, and they never die. Nothing could conquer them, even the dieus would have to exert some effort to try and contain them. Nothing except infertility. They were immortal, but they were not invincible. It was the only gift the gods did not grant them when making their blood sucking race.
So every four centuries, these Vampires come down from their mountains, watching the human population and each town for the perfect candidate. And unless there’s some dire need for more Vampires, only one would be taken each four centuries. Lawrence was the perfect subject.
Though the young boy, who was now ten, never says anything, a strong feeling of hatred could always be found boiling off his body. The Mantises could smell the loathing like a strong unpleasant soap scent, always drifting to their sharpened smell when the boy walked past their watching spot. And he always seemed to know that something was watching him. But he never questioned. The Mantises agreed, there was just something special about Lawrence.
Then, on the night of his seventh birthday, they took him. Burning down the village that they took him from so no one would come and look for him, they brought him back into the tribe tent, threw him down, and killed him.
Lawrence died on the night of his eleventh birthday. That very night, Luther was born, with a head of luscious black hair, and captivating amber eyes. His expression never changed though. But the person that had been hidden underneath Lawrence all his eleven years of life was awoken, and this new Luther demanded respect.
Over the centuries, Luther, under the guidance of his changer, toppled one Vampire after another, fueled on by his need to have control, to be the top, and to compensate for the beginning eleven years of Lawrence, which he hardly remembered anymore. Something close to a thousand years passed, and like all vampires, Luther aged quickly in his younger life until he hit his mid thirties, where his physical growth began to slow down to a near stand point even as the days fly past. It seemed like Luther would never grow older than thirty-six. Luther managed to climb his way up the authority line. He earned all of his tattoos with little to no effort. He was powerful, and he was ready to change a child of his own.
Eight hundred years have passed, and this time, it was Luther’s turn to grab a child to increase their clan population. He chose a young girl. There was something different about her, something that even Lawrence did not have when the Vampires had set their eyes on him. This human girl, unlike Lawrence, was happy in her place. But the malevolence was like sick perfume. The humans might not have been able to smell it, but the Vampires watched her with curiosity, wondering how a sweet natured child could be giving off such a stench of violence. Nevertheless, she caught Luther’s interest, and on the night she turned six, Luther took her with him, repeating the same ritual of burning her village to the ground. He was impatient to change her. The cruelty of her large innocent eyes and the wickedness of her sweet smile drew him even more to her. Thus, the Vampire did not wait for her to turn the appropriate age of eleven before changing her.
It was on that night, after he had killed the girl, and began to feed her his blood, Luther discovered fear. She drank from him in such a hungry way that Luther’s very soul and conscious seemed to be emptying from his body and into the girl’s mouth through his blood. The Black Mantis thought she was going to drink him dry. After the short lull of the mind, Luther scrambled to push her off, shoving her so hard that her teeth, which were firmly lodged in his neck, ripped two chunks off of his once sensitive neck. Grasping his bleeding neck, Luther could only stare at the new Vampire as the monster that had been emitting its stink from the body of the girl emerges and smirked at him, wiping blood from its lips.
Luther never kept his eyes off her from that day on. And he never stopped fearing her. The terror knotted itself deep in his stomach, made him sick when he drinks too much, made his body twist when he wants to sleep without care, and made his eyes never rest as they constantly watched the Vampire, who he named Arianne Shiang, with such a careful eyed that even she would squirm under the look. Without knowing it, he loved her. There was nothing like a normal father and daughter relationship between the two. Nor were they passionate lovers with a secret to hide. Rather, it was as if he was courting danger, something that enthralled him so much that even if it was potentially dangerous to him, he wouldn’t mind just spending one, or two, or three more second s with it.
Arianne grew stronger, learned more than her fellow Vampires, exceed even the top fighters of the clan. And though she never managed to surpass her father, her appetite expanded to encompass the entire Mantis Clan. If she wished, she could have swallowed them all. Naturally, the Clan felt threatened, but none dared ventured to say anything for Luther’s soulless amber eyes would stare them down, daring them to even mutter a word about Arianne’s possible betrayal. But deep inside, he feared his fledgling more than anyone else. And this dread made him into something like an eternal watcher, always judging and calculating her next move to prevent her from stepping out of line.
But he never considered the possibility of her love.
There was a vampire Arianne was constantly next to, a young, rather foolish Vampire by the name of Rinel. Rinel watched her with interest, and she returned it, just in a slightly different manner. Luther dismissed Rinel as a simple admirer, for his daughter now held place as one of the strongest in the Clan. Rinel however, wanted something more.
Arianne was happy to comply. But her father’s upbringing and the egotistical view she shared with him made her kind of reaction much more different than Rinel’s. She ate him. Flesh, blood, right down to the bones. She gorged on him in order to keep his love for herself and only herself.
This was one Clan member too many. Though the Mantises feed on other Vampires, to eat one of their own was a cannibalism no one had ventured into. And unknown territories scare everyone, even the Undead.
Forced to confront his own daughter, Luther entered the tent just as Arianne picked on Rinel’s last bone…
”What have you done?” He muttered, staring at the mess on the floor. Bones. Some picked clean, other with pieces of muscles still wrapped on the white marrow. There was no blood to be seen, though the tent smelled thick of the rust. She drank it all.
“Arianne…why did you eat him? If you could have just held of that hunger…I would have taken you hunting if you were hungry. Why must you eat him?” He could care less about the idiot in the form of a pile of white bones at his feet. He cared more about the golden eyed creatures sitting before him.
She did not answer.
“Arianne, do not forget who was the one who gave you life. Who took you from that weakened life of a human? Do not defy me, fledgling. Tell me, why did you eat him. Was he attacking you? Were you doing it only out of self defense?” The desperate edge could be heard in his voice. Yes, it was only out of self defense. Rinel, you idiot. But you got what you deserved. No one could touch his Arianne.
“No,” her answer made that knot in his stomach that had been there for five hundred years suddenly detangled. She would be put to death. He would never have to worry about waking up with fangs at his throat. But his hands sweated. Something was going to happen. And Luther knew would have no control.
“I love him, Papa. So I ate him.” Luther, the Black Mantis waited for the inevitable to come as his daughter picked up her rag-doll head and stared at him with filmed over golden eyes. Her smile was hauntingly beautiful. “And I love you too.”
He closed his eyes, anticipating. And when it came, he snapped it right open again, as if he was shocked. But that knot had untwined itself because it wasn’t she who was going to die. It was him.
Luther could not even whisper her name as her teeth tore into his vocal cords.
When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was something thick that seemed to lodge itself in his nose. It was near unbearable. He couldn’t move, so he laid there.
For four days.
On the fifth day, he woke up a second time, this time, the smell had almost vanished, but the rest of it lingered in his clothes. So strong that should he wring it like a wet cloth, blood would most likely come dripping out of that linen.
He was too weak to move for more than two minutes. But there was blood on his wrist, encrusted like dirt on the earring he had ripped off. It was better than nothing. Licking his wrist and sucking on Arianne’s earring, he felt a surge of sudden energy, though nowhere as strong as before. Her blood had strength even when dried. Slowly getting up, the Vampire stumbled to the tent, which was curiously slathered in red, again, heavy with crimson residue. Luther resorted to sucking the tent of the paint, painfully getting each drop in order to heal that hole in his throat and the hollowed body.
Then he slept.
Another four days.
This time, the Vampire was much stronger. And this time, it wasn’t the stench of blood anymore. It was the stench of bodies. Luther could imagine the smell in giant bubbles, pushing and rubbing against each other and his head, forcing to pop and explode his hyped senses. He hardly noticed the bodies of his comrades as he walked off into the mountains. There was no blood left for him in their bodies. And he did not have the energy to grieve.
For the next week or so, Luther fed off the old and the handicapped, people he would never even consider worthy for his consumption before now became a treasured meal. As he continued to nurse his health back, he hears of The Crimson One, the Vermillion Mantis…he hears of Arianne. He saw the damage she left behind, the people half consumed, or half drunk from. He acted as the vulture, cleaning up behind his girl as he drank from the dead she had left behind. So she really was capable of eating the world. And she had started her ambitious program with him first. Well, Rinel actually. It sickened him to know that she had placed such a moron before him.
Still wandering behind her, he found out that no matter how much he drinks, he would always be missing that majority of blood that had been consumed by Arianne. Where his power really laid. Luther would never be like he use to unless he managed to take down Arianne and drink from her. If he could not stop her, he would always be under her shadow, and she would always be subconsciously controlling and limiting him.
Thus, Luther began his rather shaky and slightly suicidal quest to gain his powers back from his daughter…
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.other.info.
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Want to check out his daughter Arianne?
The Vermillion Mantis
.user.information.
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Username:
Northie [High]
Gender:
Despite all things said and done, still very female.
Other Character(s):
None
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.general.character.information.
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Name:
Luther Shiang
Alias:
The Black Mantis, Master Luther
Age:
Chronologically {Very very old at least 1000 years old}
Physically {36}
Gender:
Male
Race:
Humanoid/Cannibalistic Vampire
Clan:
The Mantis Clan {Unique only to Luther’s world, the Mantis Clan is a group of Vampires famous for their strange feeding style. The Vampires of the clan have the ability to feed on both humans of their world and Vampires, regardless of clan status.}
Alignment:
Neutral
Origin:
Latharai {Description in the history}
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.characteristic.depth.
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Appearance:
Physical Features:
Luther, though he’s actually so old that even he had forgotten, actually appears to be in his mid thirties. The Vampire possesses the healthy body of a thirty year old; slightly muscular build, average body weight, and strong calf muscles. Luther is tall for an individual, standing at 6ft five and carries with him a rather intimidating yet elegant stance, for he never slouches or bends to other’s will. The way he carried himself and his tall form demands utmost reverence from his surrounding environment and it can be ensured that he will return the respect.
Facial Features:
Perhaps the only thing that can really distinguish his age and pull him from the twenties age group is the maturity of Luther’s facial features. Though he has a rather delicate face structure—sharp chin and angular jaw—the experience of living for so long had set itself into his face. Luther always has a rather no-nonsense look on his face and tempting a smile from those pale rose lips of his is a rather arduous task to attempt. Above a straight nose are a set of deep amber eyes framed by long lashes. The amber of the eyes occasionally switches color under different lightings, from reddish amber in natural lights to a rich gold under the sunlight.
Seemingly, Luther Shiang never thought about cutting his hair. A deep color of ebony, the male’s long hair reaches all the way down to his thigh, and is often parted to the side, sometimes covering his right eye. There are wisps of gray in his hair but those shining black locks appear to be trained to cover the show of age so the gray hair is never apparent. Occasionally, if his hair is giving him trouble, Luther would attempt to tie it up with a spare band of cloth, though he tends to avoid doing that. Hidden under his long black hair are a set of strange elongated ears. Aside from this elvish look, the only other thing that might help set Luther away from the humans is his powers and traditional sharp Vampire fangs.
Clothing:
Luther wears the traditional clothing of his clan, Latharai, along with several accessories of his preference. From the top, Luther has on a long beige scarf. There are not many designs on the scarf, but it completely covers his neck and still managed to trail along behind him in a long tail. Along the edges are small black embroideries to add some design to it.
Though dubbed the Black Mantis, the Vampire’s taste in colors when it comes to his clothes contains very little black. Luther’s light chestnut colored shirt is much like an Asian styled top with several adjustments. The shirt can be taken off from the front if the mantis claw shaped button is taken off. More designs of mantis claws are drawn on his top in brownish ochre. Along the sleeves are black designs that are actually hardened to provide arm guards. Yet the stiff material moves along with Luther’s arm, allowing him to bend his elbows with ease. The left sleeve is split opened from the inside of the elbow and down in order to allow easy maneuvering of his weapon.
The length of Luther’s shirt slips past the Vampire’s hips and all the way down to his thigh, taking on a more trench coat look as it progresses. To avoid the shirt from slipping open and exposing his abdomen, a black cloth belt hugs his hips. From the right side springs a dark maroon material that looks like fluff. It’s very soft and fluffy one can predict that Luther uses it as a pillow when he has nowhere to sleep except on a rock. On the very bottom is a pair of black pants made of comforting material. The pants are tucked into a pair of beige shoes that seemed to be made of straps that bind around his feet and calf.
Miscellaneous Items/Articles:
A member’s status and power in the Mantis Clan is determined by the amount initiation tattoos one has on their body. A full member’s markings include both the arms and the legs and one side of the face. As a senior member and a Vampire of prestige and power, Luther has all of the tattoos required to be the best in the Mantis Clan. Because the clan affiliates itself with the mantis—a predator of predators—the base design of the clan are the jagged pincers of the praying mantis. Thus, along his arms from shoulder to forearm and from calf all the way around his feet are a series of markings. Under his right eye are two separate tattoos that are placed next to each other to form the claws of a praying Mantis. The tattoo takes up most of his cheek and is hard to hide from sight.
Vampires also seemed to enjoy multiple piercings. And since his ears are longer than a normal human’s, Luther has a large amount of piercings on his ears. Some he still uses and some forgotten. Most of the time though, the Black Mantis sports two or three studs or hoops per ear.
Though the beige scarf looked to merely add a refine taste to Luther’s wardrobe, the scarf was actually placed there to hide a rather obvious scar from hundreds of years before. It seemed that something had torn a large chunk off of Luther’s neck, and coincidentally, the scars are the exact size of two sharp incisors.
Luther Shiang
Personality:
[Bah…I don’t like this format. *complain complain*]
Luther Shiang the Black Mantis. It was through years of simply surviving and pulling through that he managed to earn this fearsome name. A Black Mantis blends into the night, allowing it to tackle any prey that comes its way with little effort. Luther was such, practically invincible and prestigious among his peers. Thus Mr. Shiang is a figure of dignity that demands respect from others, be they older or younger than him, and expects no less. When people give him the respect he requests, only then would he consider returning it.
Thanks to his longer than imaginable years in the realm of the living, and his superiority in his clan when it still existed, Luther can be a rather bigoted man, seeing others mainly through the prejudiced eyes of an advanced species, especially seizing up those of a lesser race to his. His conceitedness often gets on people’s edge, yet the Vampire would hardly bother to lower himself to apologize to you unless you have earned it. Luther often carries himself with such a self-important air—head held high, eyes lidded with authority, and nose turned up—that it’s impossible to believe that this male had ever been the victim of a treachery and had his arrogance crushed between feral fangs. As you can see, Luther Shiang is a rather no-nonsense character, with little time and feeling for those lower than him. Often, the only facial expression he exhibits is indifference, and to wrangle a laugh from him would be like pulling along a stubborn mule.
However, Luther is not a complete idiot. Despite the high and mighty attitude, Luther practices a gentlemanly diplomacy when it comes to solving problems. Should the situation require it, and only if it’s dire, Luther prefers to talk out a conflict versus fighting it out. He never threatens unless he knew that he’s capable of following through, he never makes promises thanks to his rather cynical nature, and he never helps anyone unless they have something to return for his chance of risk. As you can see, Luther takes great care to preserve his life and his well being, eating only when necessary, talking to others only when there’s no possibility of a fight breaking out, and sleeping as little as needed to keep watch on his surroundings. Though he doesn’t exhibit it, the Vampire is actually rather edgy thanks to his weakened core. In his mind, he knew that deliberately taking on powerful enemies would mean the end of him. This still doesn’t quite deter Luther from being one sided when seeing things though.
Due to traumatic events that left the Vampire so physically weak that it’s neigh impossible for him to return to his former glorious power, Luther’s edge as a fearsome hunter had been highly demolished, though he hides it quite well. Luther literally doesn’t have much left, aside from the near immortal body of his. However, there is one thing that drives this Vampire on, and that is his shattered pride. Luther’s ego demands that he fix his reputation, it taunted him when he found out that he could no longer perform the blood magicks he had worked on for centuries of his life, and it challenged him to get it back, win it from the very person who stole it from him and left him to be taken by death for the second time in his life—his daughter.
The cannibalism of Luther’s daughter, Arianne, was a turning point in his life. Though Arianne took everything from him, she also gave him the obsession of hunting her down, not for revenge for his tribal members, but for himself. Luther may have been tamed, but the blood thirsty and arrogance of his previous life could not be erased so easily. Should he ever find Arianne, the Vampire knew that he probably would not be lucky enough to live a second time, even if he was an undead. Nevertheless, he continued to pursue this possibly fatal goal, undeterred by his rather realistic and logical approach to life. Logic reasoning doesn’t apply when it comes to obsessions.
Behind that stern visage, Luther actually has a rather wide range of fear, from trivial dread to pure terror. Along that spectrum, one of the small pet peeves of the Vampire is to die in a rather undignified way. Blood Suckers, Dracula, Leeches, and Vampires; despite the different names and worlds, most Vampires still shares similar origins. The Vampires of Latharai possesses the usual Vampire attributes, but with twists and tweaks. The uses of holy water, crucifix, and other useful knickknacks that are usually useful against vampires have no effect on Latharaian Vampires, though they do have a specific dislike for onions. Luther especially tries to avoid onions. When you have a smell that’s three times more powerful than a human’s, the smell of onions is definitely going to get to you. Sunlight doesn’t usually have a significant effect on the Vampires, but prolong exposure can lead to severe burns. Thus the Black Mantis avoids the sun like the plague thanks to his rather cautious ways. Past all these Vampire pet peeves, Luther’s more personal terrors begin to emerge. A lost vision of his obsession, slip of his current mask of confidence, death. Almost anything that might derive him from his goal of at least trying to get his status back horrifies the Vampire. The last thing he feared, perhaps among all others is the monster that now roams from world to world, his own daughter, Arianne Shiang. Arianne was the first person to bring terror into this Vampire’s vocabulary, and until the day her death, or his, he will continue to fear this ominous presence.
There’s another small, rather silly thing that Luther has a fear for—children. He doesn’t exactly fear them, yet to have children around him makes the Vampire fidgety, no matter how delicious their blood is. The reason behind this bizarre and phobia is because of his first child, his daughter Arianne, who later turned into a complete abomination and caused his downfall. So…he doesn’t really like being around children, especially little girls. He’ll try his best not to show it though. It wouldn’t do so well for his reputation if people found out that he’s afraid of little girls, who might attack him with daises.
Finally, what does the Black Mantis enjoy to do around his spare time?
Like the usual Vampire, Luther enjoys the activity of crawling around in the dark, tackling preys, and eating. But this was before he was ‘killed’ by his daughter. He also has a strange need to constantly have control. Whether commanding people around could be count as a hobby or not, it all depends on the person.
Urm…Despite the supposedly blood thirsty status the Vampire had when his clan still strived, Luther rather enjoyed quiet time alone in a grassy meadow, soaking up moonlight at night. It was rather impossible to imagine this cruel figure lying in a field with poppies, soaking up moonlight, so he keeps this quiet past time all to himself. If this is to leak out, there will be heads lopped off. And he will personally make sure that it happens.
-head falls off-
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.battle.information.
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Class: Defender
Weapons:
Weapon Name: Grasper
Weapon Description: No one ever sees Luther Shiang carry his weapon. One might think that Luther doesn’t have a weapon, but when forced into battle, Luther could suddenly be seen with a large triangular blade that’s attached to his hand. The blade is a weapon called Grasper. Grasper is a glossy black sword that’s slightly hooked at the very end, made to grasp victims by digging into their flesh when the weapon is thrust past them then pulled back towards Luther.
Grasper is a different shade of black that seemed to be made out of a shiny material around the rims. If one follows the patterns up all the way to where it’s strapped to Luther’s hand, one can see where the weapon came from.
Grasper seemed to have grown out of the tattoos imprinted on Luther’s left arm, forming his hand into a sword. Yet if one looks underneath, they can still see Luther’s hand with the top infused into the base of the blade. Luther cannot freely move his left hand until the blade is put away, which is when Luther returns the tattoo back to its original version.
The blade overall about three or four feet long starting from wrist, not including the hook, which is merely a few inches long. It’s less than a foot across, making it a rather thin and wide sword. Grasper cannot be formed along the palm and only along the back of the hand. There are two prongs jutting out from each side, making it look like Luther has a rather mutated looking claw. Only the tattoos on his left arm can provide the weapon, so he cannot switch weapon from hand to hand like free wielders can. Thus, should the Vampire become immobile in his left hand, there isn’t much more offensive he could perform.
Weapon: Vampire Fangs
Weapon Description: Simple, Vampire canines. They’re the two prominent incisors jutting out of Luther’s jaw that are sharp enough to pierce through skin and draw blood to allow them to drink. Vampires can have a deadly bite.
Unique Note: Luther doesn’t have to brush his teeth and he’ll never get cavities. >.>
Probably because he never had candy before.
Abilities:
Base Ability: The Praying Mantis
Sub Abilities:
{Eye of the Mantis}
Through the years, Luther’s ancestors had spent their time studying the creature of their namesake—the praying mantis. The Mantis clan had revolutionized their style of hunting according to that of the praying mantis’. Being a hunter of the Mantis Clan, Luther had naturally adopted the Eye of the Mantis. His peripheral vision had evolved beyond that of a normal human being, mimicking that of a mantis’ and permitting him to see in all directions except behind his without turning her head. He could catch any slight movement within his range of vision, making him the perfect predator. So if you must strike, always remember to strike from the back…
{Without a Trace: Pure Vampire}
Even the hunter has its own predator; Luther of all people knew that. Thus, the Vampire and his people had near mastered the camouflage technique of the praying mantis. He can become hidden under any circumstances, and have the ability to hide his scent as well. Thus, it becomes much harder to detect his malevolent presence, should he be exhibiting one. Luther can hide in this stage for as long as possible without detection as long as he does not move or moves very, very slowly. Any quick movement will betray his aura and the invisibility will disappear.
{Crouching Mantis}
The Crouching Mantis is another ability rewarded to the Mantis Clan through years of watching the praying mantis. Granted with near anti-gravity, Luther and his fellow Vampires have the ability to travel along any smooth surface at a normal speed. This means that the Black Mantis can run along any length of wall or ceiling without worrying about falling. However, there are limits to the speed he can take. And whether he moves on four legs or two does not matter much either, but Luther naturally has more stability when moving on all fours. This also does not mean that Luther now has the ability to walk across surface impossible for humans to even step on: water, lava, tar, etc.
Items:
Equips:
Distribution Points:
Physical Attack: 2
Physical Defense: 3
Magical Attack: 1
Magical Defense: 2
Reflexes: 3
Speed: 3
Awareness: 2
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{Latharai and His Legacy: The Mantis Clan} Latharai, to this day, remains a world of desolation and despair for its human population. A gothic world that had already been corroded by darkness before the heartless had even thought about setting feet into, this world was governed by magic and tragedy and consists of two main species. The Homo sapiens, ever persistent, ever unyielding, plays the submissive race in this game. Above them, the Demons and their four leading gods, or Dieus, maintain the control and the balance of the human population. The world of Latharai was the world of the Demons, and caught underneath them, the humans, were maintained and pruned by Demon authority. What most never noticed was the forgotten race caught in the middle of this food chain. The Vampires of Latharai, legendary in every spectrum of power and horror were just that—legends.
However, in the constant scuffle between the Demons and their human counterparts, this misfit race lurked, fed, grew, split, fought, and created their own legacy in the stories, even if the rest of Latharai believed them to be merely ink on paper.
These Vampires found themselves in a predicament though. Wars rise and fall in this world, and often, the Vampires find their only food source, the humans, wiped down to so few that their number cannot satisfy the constant hungers of the Vampires. Demons were harder to hunt. They possessed neither the idiocy of humans nor the weak physiques of their body. Thus, during the final days of Latharai’s Hundredth War, one clan, faced with starvation, rose up and did the unthinkable. This loose clan of Vampires brought about a revolution. In their crazed sense of hunger, the Vampires turned on their own kind, feeding on Vampire blood as if they were humans. Vampire blood were found to be better though, much more delicious than humans. The clan members found themselves in a sudden craving for Vampire blood. It filled them up much more than human blood, and the power they received from these night dwellers excited them, intoxicated them into wanting more. The clan, now allowed the energy to regroup themselves, slowly rose up in the hierarchy to become the most notorious and blood thirsty of all Vampires. Many tried to follow their example, but there can only be one hunter. The clan now called themselves the Mantis, an insect of nature that feeds on both preys and predators. Yet a larger predator comes…
{His Story}
A predator.
He grasped her neck, fumbling around for a hold so he could pull her off. Burning, it was scorching him. His neck was being torn apart. Trembling fingers shuddered along the pale long neck, lingering weakly like an intoxicated lover. Second time. This was the second time. Cool, smooth silver. Piercings. So many of them; studs, diamonds, hoops. He was in flames, but she refused to let go. He would burn her too, but she loved his warmth. He curled his long fingers around the silver. The tips where the fingernails ends were turning blue, like winter frost, yet his body was lost in an inferno. The first time he could fight her back. But this time, he knew she was going to suck him dry. She had her lover’s blood in her. And now she has his too. She ate his power, guzzled his pride, and drank his very love for her. He could not fight back. He tried to whisper her name, tell her to please leave him alone, whimper for her to not hurt him like this. But his throat had been damaged, his vocal cords ripped. Blood gurgled out, trickling from the side of his lips as if he was spewing fresh pomegranate juice that she had squeezed from the very pits of his stomach. Or perhaps he was coughing up his love for her to drink.
His fingers gripped, and his oxygen deficient muscles strained their last act. He pulled, ripping the earring right from her flesh. But she didn’t move. His dimming hearing could hear the slippery gulping and heavy breathing. There was little he could do, so he lay limp, letting the hunter do her business, the silver hoops still tight on his finger.
She kissed him before she left. It singed his forehead even as his body turns cold to the screams that were to come.
Before the predator, there is the pray.
The first time he entered Latharai, he was Lawrence, the Baker’s boy. Lawrence was a quiet child, never had much to say to the people around him. The child would enter periods of muteness, causing worrying parents and suspicious neighbors. There’s something wrong with this boy, no doubt about it, they would mutter among themselves. Yet Lawrence never bothered to defend himself. Nor did his parents ever thought about justifying his calmness. Neither was the boy a curious one, like all boys should be. Lawrence and his dark brown dog eyes and equally dark brown hair would remain on the side, watching the people around him like a hunter, his deep eyes intimidating most authority figures that ever set eyes on him. No one wanted to bother that Lawrence kid. He was bad stuff. Bad stuff, they muttered, work of voodoo. The humans of Latharai are a suspicious bunch.
But on a windy winter night, on the night of his eleventh birthday, they came for him.
They were a group of Vampires that called themselves the Mantis Clan. The Mantis Clan was the hunter of hunters. Nothing could get in their way, they ravage, they can crush anyone under their hands, and they never die. Nothing could conquer them, even the dieus would have to exert some effort to try and contain them. Nothing except infertility. They were immortal, but they were not invincible. It was the only gift the gods did not grant them when making their blood sucking race.
So every four centuries, these Vampires come down from their mountains, watching the human population and each town for the perfect candidate. And unless there’s some dire need for more Vampires, only one would be taken each four centuries. Lawrence was the perfect subject.
Though the young boy, who was now ten, never says anything, a strong feeling of hatred could always be found boiling off his body. The Mantises could smell the loathing like a strong unpleasant soap scent, always drifting to their sharpened smell when the boy walked past their watching spot. And he always seemed to know that something was watching him. But he never questioned. The Mantises agreed, there was just something special about Lawrence.
Then, on the night of his seventh birthday, they took him. Burning down the village that they took him from so no one would come and look for him, they brought him back into the tribe tent, threw him down, and killed him.
Lawrence died on the night of his eleventh birthday. That very night, Luther was born, with a head of luscious black hair, and captivating amber eyes. His expression never changed though. But the person that had been hidden underneath Lawrence all his eleven years of life was awoken, and this new Luther demanded respect.
Over the centuries, Luther, under the guidance of his changer, toppled one Vampire after another, fueled on by his need to have control, to be the top, and to compensate for the beginning eleven years of Lawrence, which he hardly remembered anymore. Something close to a thousand years passed, and like all vampires, Luther aged quickly in his younger life until he hit his mid thirties, where his physical growth began to slow down to a near stand point even as the days fly past. It seemed like Luther would never grow older than thirty-six. Luther managed to climb his way up the authority line. He earned all of his tattoos with little to no effort. He was powerful, and he was ready to change a child of his own.
Eight hundred years have passed, and this time, it was Luther’s turn to grab a child to increase their clan population. He chose a young girl. There was something different about her, something that even Lawrence did not have when the Vampires had set their eyes on him. This human girl, unlike Lawrence, was happy in her place. But the malevolence was like sick perfume. The humans might not have been able to smell it, but the Vampires watched her with curiosity, wondering how a sweet natured child could be giving off such a stench of violence. Nevertheless, she caught Luther’s interest, and on the night she turned six, Luther took her with him, repeating the same ritual of burning her village to the ground. He was impatient to change her. The cruelty of her large innocent eyes and the wickedness of her sweet smile drew him even more to her. Thus, the Vampire did not wait for her to turn the appropriate age of eleven before changing her.
It was on that night, after he had killed the girl, and began to feed her his blood, Luther discovered fear. She drank from him in such a hungry way that Luther’s very soul and conscious seemed to be emptying from his body and into the girl’s mouth through his blood. The Black Mantis thought she was going to drink him dry. After the short lull of the mind, Luther scrambled to push her off, shoving her so hard that her teeth, which were firmly lodged in his neck, ripped two chunks off of his once sensitive neck. Grasping his bleeding neck, Luther could only stare at the new Vampire as the monster that had been emitting its stink from the body of the girl emerges and smirked at him, wiping blood from its lips.
Luther never kept his eyes off her from that day on. And he never stopped fearing her. The terror knotted itself deep in his stomach, made him sick when he drinks too much, made his body twist when he wants to sleep without care, and made his eyes never rest as they constantly watched the Vampire, who he named Arianne Shiang, with such a careful eyed that even she would squirm under the look. Without knowing it, he loved her. There was nothing like a normal father and daughter relationship between the two. Nor were they passionate lovers with a secret to hide. Rather, it was as if he was courting danger, something that enthralled him so much that even if it was potentially dangerous to him, he wouldn’t mind just spending one, or two, or three more second s with it.
Arianne grew stronger, learned more than her fellow Vampires, exceed even the top fighters of the clan. And though she never managed to surpass her father, her appetite expanded to encompass the entire Mantis Clan. If she wished, she could have swallowed them all. Naturally, the Clan felt threatened, but none dared ventured to say anything for Luther’s soulless amber eyes would stare them down, daring them to even mutter a word about Arianne’s possible betrayal. But deep inside, he feared his fledgling more than anyone else. And this dread made him into something like an eternal watcher, always judging and calculating her next move to prevent her from stepping out of line.
But he never considered the possibility of her love.
There was a vampire Arianne was constantly next to, a young, rather foolish Vampire by the name of Rinel. Rinel watched her with interest, and she returned it, just in a slightly different manner. Luther dismissed Rinel as a simple admirer, for his daughter now held place as one of the strongest in the Clan. Rinel however, wanted something more.
Arianne was happy to comply. But her father’s upbringing and the egotistical view she shared with him made her kind of reaction much more different than Rinel’s. She ate him. Flesh, blood, right down to the bones. She gorged on him in order to keep his love for herself and only herself.
This was one Clan member too many. Though the Mantises feed on other Vampires, to eat one of their own was a cannibalism no one had ventured into. And unknown territories scare everyone, even the Undead.
Forced to confront his own daughter, Luther entered the tent just as Arianne picked on Rinel’s last bone…
”What have you done?” He muttered, staring at the mess on the floor. Bones. Some picked clean, other with pieces of muscles still wrapped on the white marrow. There was no blood to be seen, though the tent smelled thick of the rust. She drank it all.
“Arianne…why did you eat him? If you could have just held of that hunger…I would have taken you hunting if you were hungry. Why must you eat him?” He could care less about the idiot in the form of a pile of white bones at his feet. He cared more about the golden eyed creatures sitting before him.
She did not answer.
“Arianne, do not forget who was the one who gave you life. Who took you from that weakened life of a human? Do not defy me, fledgling. Tell me, why did you eat him. Was he attacking you? Were you doing it only out of self defense?” The desperate edge could be heard in his voice. Yes, it was only out of self defense. Rinel, you idiot. But you got what you deserved. No one could touch his Arianne.
“No,” her answer made that knot in his stomach that had been there for five hundred years suddenly detangled. She would be put to death. He would never have to worry about waking up with fangs at his throat. But his hands sweated. Something was going to happen. And Luther knew would have no control.
“I love him, Papa. So I ate him.” Luther, the Black Mantis waited for the inevitable to come as his daughter picked up her rag-doll head and stared at him with filmed over golden eyes. Her smile was hauntingly beautiful. “And I love you too.”
He closed his eyes, anticipating. And when it came, he snapped it right open again, as if he was shocked. But that knot had untwined itself because it wasn’t she who was going to die. It was him.
Luther could not even whisper her name as her teeth tore into his vocal cords.
When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was something thick that seemed to lodge itself in his nose. It was near unbearable. He couldn’t move, so he laid there.
For four days.
On the fifth day, he woke up a second time, this time, the smell had almost vanished, but the rest of it lingered in his clothes. So strong that should he wring it like a wet cloth, blood would most likely come dripping out of that linen.
He was too weak to move for more than two minutes. But there was blood on his wrist, encrusted like dirt on the earring he had ripped off. It was better than nothing. Licking his wrist and sucking on Arianne’s earring, he felt a surge of sudden energy, though nowhere as strong as before. Her blood had strength even when dried. Slowly getting up, the Vampire stumbled to the tent, which was curiously slathered in red, again, heavy with crimson residue. Luther resorted to sucking the tent of the paint, painfully getting each drop in order to heal that hole in his throat and the hollowed body.
Then he slept.
Another four days.
This time, the Vampire was much stronger. And this time, it wasn’t the stench of blood anymore. It was the stench of bodies. Luther could imagine the smell in giant bubbles, pushing and rubbing against each other and his head, forcing to pop and explode his hyped senses. He hardly noticed the bodies of his comrades as he walked off into the mountains. There was no blood left for him in their bodies. And he did not have the energy to grieve.
For the next week or so, Luther fed off the old and the handicapped, people he would never even consider worthy for his consumption before now became a treasured meal. As he continued to nurse his health back, he hears of The Crimson One, the Vermillion Mantis…he hears of Arianne. He saw the damage she left behind, the people half consumed, or half drunk from. He acted as the vulture, cleaning up behind his girl as he drank from the dead she had left behind. So she really was capable of eating the world. And she had started her ambitious program with him first. Well, Rinel actually. It sickened him to know that she had placed such a moron before him.
Still wandering behind her, he found out that no matter how much he drinks, he would always be missing that majority of blood that had been consumed by Arianne. Where his power really laid. Luther would never be like he use to unless he managed to take down Arianne and drink from her. If he could not stop her, he would always be under her shadow, and she would always be subconsciously controlling and limiting him.
Thus, Luther began his rather shaky and slightly suicidal quest to gain his powers back from his daughter…
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Want to check out his daughter Arianne?
The Vermillion Mantis
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I did post in shades of grey if anyone even remembers that lmao