Othello

[ophelia]

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Username: Ophelia

Gender: Lady

Other Character(s): Ophelia
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Name: Othello Spire

Alias: Othello Hinges or "Mr. Hinges"

Age: 23

Gender: Male.

Race: Merling

Alignment: Villain

Origin: Atlantica

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Appearance:

Othello is tall and lanky. Standing at about 6'4 he is almost well built, with broad shoulders and strong arms, but his height is just disproportionate enough to his weight to keep him from being threatening. Although his posture is straight it manages to be languid and disrespectful. His complexion is rosy. Not bright pink but not pallid either. And his face is long, filled by pleasant rounded features and a mischievous easy smile (set with even human teeth). He is not handsome by any means, just more agreeable to look upon than his younger half-sister. Any "attractiveness" stems from the aforementioned languid posture, and a slow effortless grace that seems to ooze from his pores. His hair shags nonchalantly over his head and forehead. Blue-green bangs hang just short of his lazy wide-set blue-green eyes. The shag is uneven and manages to look casual, windswept and crooked all at once. His hands are delicate and well formed, artisans hands. Human looking hands.

Three slits on either side of his abdomen serve as gills. Silver scales creep up around the chest and speckle the shoulders and neck, stretching down the fore-arms and down the legs. His feet are large and webbed, but hidden by polished black loafers. Othello wears a crisp white button down shirt, loosed to bear the collar of shiny scales, under a pair of grey corduroy suspenders. Well tailored with long pants. Sometimes a grey bowler hat caps the shag, but rarely. He looks very clean cut and very easy going.

Personality:

Resolve:
Othello wants his inheritance. Or more eloquently put, to be disinherited from the family, but to still be included in the will. His ancestors precede him. Stuffy, traditional, prejudiced, and overbearing. Any differentiation whatsoever would be welcome, and anything to separate his reputation from theirs. He's even changed his name. So tired of being harangued for his conduct and counted out for his breeding. So tired of being associated with such an odious crowd. If he wasn't so co-dependent on them, he would go firmly in the opposite direction without ever looking back.

Pursuit:

As an expert lock-smith, the "Key-blades" and "Doors between worlds" are avidly interesting to him. He travels between worlds to snap up any scrap of information that would prove lucrative. And his cool fascination near delves into insatiable hunger. Partly because he needs to know for the sake of his trade, and party because of the wealth, wonder, and reputation that would precede such a mastery. (Although to look at him you'd never even think the word "passion" none the less say it.) He keeps his work separate from play. And he'd only ever reference locksmithing as a harmless hobby. The obsession is hidden, even from himself.

Fears: Heights, Frost-bite, Large animals, Small animals, Doors Without locks, Rooms Without Doors, Locks Without Keys, Small enclosed spaces, Dust, Spiders, Poison, Assorted Diseases, Death in general ect.

Hopes:

He's firmly fixed in the future, but he's no dreamer. Othello is just willing to adapt to whatever comes his way. Hoping is for those without a knack for anything, doing is for those who can. However, he'd like to establish a monopoly on the "Keys/Gates" to the worlds. It's a pioneer front, untouched except for that kid from the islands, and he'd like to be the one to actually do something useful the knowledge. He has no plans of dying anytime soon. The longer the better.

Hobbies: Locksmithing,

Public Personality/Private Personality:

Othello is generally genial, laid back, and outgoing. Almost anyone and anything can find common ground with him. Or a reason for a drink, some trust, or even an extension of friendship. A flash of that mellow easy smile, his soothing sympathetic ear, will be all that it takes to win you over. He's kind, considerate, and probably the most insincere person you will ever meet.

Any mention of tedious or unpleasant work, and he's mysteriously missing. And, unlike Ophelia who's bound to loose conduct, he cheats and lies through his teeth, and takes the easy way out whenever possible. He's irresponsible, probably never worked an honest day in his life, and mostly likely to stab you in the back while shaking your hand in the front. Although he does usually feel remorse/guilt about some of the things he does, it's probably not enough to deter him. He's a pacifist and coward at heart and easily bullied. Not to mention self-centered, so he'll feel as much guilt as it takes to get the reward at the end, while remaining charming. (Many of his victims have reported heavy bouts of Stockholm-Syndrome.) He does grant favors on the occasion, though the kindness of his heart is stemmed if it has anything to do with his family (despite how much he mooches off them) or if it will throw off his "cool". He needs to remain "cool" and witty at all times. He also rejects any of the old mannerisms/castes the rest of the mermish people go by. Etiquette is out. So not cool.

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Class: Mage

Weapons:

Weapon Name: Slack and Slam

Weapon Description:

Slack and Slam are two plain but well crafted sets of hinges.

The "Slack" set are of the larger longer variety (about three inches long and about one inch wide). Neatly and simply forged out of mer-iron and glazed with gray silver. They come to a smooth taper at either end, but the two places where hinge is supposed to meet door have been replaced with wickedly sharp points. Carved "jaws" to snap shut on flesh or fixture to keep the hinges in place. So that the hinge part of fixture sticks straight up whilst the jaws close together to hold it that way. (Like a miniature bear trap.) The backs of the hinges have been fixed to a extensive grey silver chain so that they can be swung and sprung. (Thirty feet of chain at best. The majority of the time the chain in shorter.) But the "slack hinges" may also be detached. To be used primarily for opening.

The "Slam" set are smaller and shorter (two inches by one inch). Of almost the exact same design except shorter and squatter, and with blunter teeth. Over all "Slam" hinges are much more thick and durable where as "Slack" hinges are sharper and more biting for "a quick rip". Slam hinges are also detachable from their thicker chains. To be used primarily for closing.

Unique Notes: Linked and used with the sub ability "Unhinged".

Abilities:

Base Ability: Opening and Closing- "Locksmith"

Sub abilities:

Unhinged:

Othello can "unhinge" things like a door. The "Slack" hinges will be launched toward the target, and dug into (on long chains). If the weapon has gotten a successful chunk/hold on/of it's objective than one of the two hinges will be the "knob" and the other will be the actual "hinge". The power flows from his palms through the chain, and without cutting, the flesh, iron, wood, ice, or whatever will swing open effortlessly and neatly like a gate. Pulled open by the "knob" hinge and hanging by the "hinge" hinge. The power does not work if he just presses his palms flat against anything (he needs Slack and Slam), nor does it work if someone else wields his weapon by itself.

"Unhinged" is limited by the amount Othello is able to heft. Obviously if he is trying to make an entry that is solid granite and twenty time bigger than he, he's not going to be able to pull it open. It's just too heavy. "Unhinged" also only works on solid objects. It has no effect on energy, liquid, gas, ect. If the chain is too long, he also has trouble producing and sustaining his power at the same or full magnitude.

The power also works in reverse if he uses the "Slam" hinges. Again if they make successful contact he can close things. Including wounds, eyes, and pretty much anything else solid. Limited again by some vague physics.

Iron Stomach:

Othello can swallow/store things inside his stomach, almost permanently. He has skeleton keys, diary keys, house keys, car keys, gate keys, mausoleum keys, locket keys. Pad locks, master locks, chain locks, lock locks, all tucked away inside his stomach that he can cough up when needed. He doesn't have a key for every door, but it's a near miss. He can only, however, hack up one key/lock at a time. Three, maybe, in the space of an hour, and he doesn't have the privilege of deciding which key he's going to spew. So every time he spits one out it's a "surprise". Sometimes useful sometimes not.

And almost anything else metallic can go down his gullet with harming him, including: swords, chains, hot coals (with little bits of mica and iron), lead, and other cuddly things. His digestive system is so rigorous that he can even resist most poisons taken orally, or resist long enough to find a doctor at any rate. Iron stomach is not applicable with toxins/poisons injected or inhaled.

Locket:

"Locket" is used with a small gold, surprise surprise, locket.

When the locket is brushed across the victim, the victim's voice is captured inside the locket. However long the locket made contact with the victim determines how long the voice will stay "captured". For example, if the locket is grazed casually, than you'll only have the voice for about five minutes. But if you press the locket against the victim, or into their hand for a few minutes, than you'll have the voice to use as you wish for at least an hour, by wearing the locket around your neck.

It also works on objects, such as radios, instruments, cars, ect. Anything that makes noise can get "Locket-ed". As long as the noise is not too "big". If it’s a large loud sound, like a boat fog horn, it literally cannot fit inside the locket.

The power is not specific to one locket alone, it's specific to Othello's palms. He cannot use the power without a locket, just flat palms, and the "special" locket does not work in the hands of another wielder. So the object can't work without the power and the power can't work without the object. The noise/voice can also be released "early" if the locket is sprung open by accident or intention.

Items: N/A

Equips: N/A

Distribution Points:

Physical Attack: 1
Physical Defense: 4
Magical Attack: 4
Magical Defense: 2
Reflexes: 2
Speed: 2
Awareness: 1

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History:

Othello was born on a rocky inlet off the coast of Atlantica.

His mermaid mother Adeline, had taken her leave from Neverland river and had been visiting some relatives under the deep blue sea. She was still very young, very pretty in a chubby-run-of-the-mill mermaid way, and very very silly. Only one-hundred years old. Much sillier than she was seven years later, after she had born her second child. (Her disgruntled youngest, Ophelia.)

She had been taking tea with a gaggle of aunts and sisters, all sprawled across the kelp bed, helping themselves to dainty squid pastries and fish eggs, when she saw it. A huge shadow passing over the flat rock they had been using as a table. Blocking out the sun that filtered down through the pale salty eddies. Her eyes bugged out, and her mouth dropped open. The bit of squid she had been holding, poised for her mouth, slipped from her fingers as she stopped to stare at it. And one by one, so did her sisters, until the entire party was silent and looking upwards. (Because her aunts had been silent anyway, too crusted with barnacles to say much.) Everything was completely still until the shadow was out of view and sunlight floated freely again.

When Adeline turned to gape at her sisters and ask what that was, they all had their hands over their mouths and giggled stupidly. As if to say: "Of course you know what that is! It's a ship brainless!" But Adeline had never seen such a large vessel before. She had lived on the River and was only used to river boats, so this huge battle ship sailing overhead was awe inspiring. Her sisters continued to giggle and explained that it belonged to Captain Roscoe, a naval officer who believed in mermaids. He and his men were also handsome and held parties once a month on a little out cropping. The sisters whispered that they always went. And that they were going tonight. And that the aunts, who were now sullenly glaring across the table at them, did not entirely disapprove because Captain Roscoe gave them whiskey to bring back! (The Aunts loved whiskey very much.)

So that night, all of the young Spire mermaids set out for the cropping.

Captain Roscoe's crew was waiting with open arms. The party lasted long all night, the wine and whiskey flew freely, and giggling mermaids were chased through the water by laughing men. Adeline sat on the edge of the deck, listening to Captain Roscoe himself blather on about boring-things-she-didn't-care-about. (For he had picked her out the moment they had arrived, and she felt she couldn't spurn the host without getting the rest of the mermaids kicked out.) She desperately wanted to play "Catch-Me-If-You-Can" with everyone else, but Captain Roscoe wasn't loosing interest no matter how little she showed in him. He was pretty to look at anyway. So she drank more wine.

The next morning she woke up flopping on the deck to discover that she had somehow had a drunken one night stand with Captain Roscoe. (She screamed and clawed at him, thumping him on the head with her tail, before splashing away.) And to discover a week later, much to her displeasure, that she was pregnant. (From a crone-ish grandmother who knew about these types of things.) Everyone agreed that Adeline should stay in Atlantica until the baby was born. And then they would get rid of it. Adeline certainly didn't want it, and neither did they. A filthy little half-human had no place among their ranks.

So she stayed and had the baby quietly on the rock where it was consummated, and then promptly forgot about it. A cute sailor caught her eye, and she had barely popped the little boy out and named it "Othello" before she had gone gallivanting after him with some cousins.

Othello was found and raised by Captain Roscoe, who returned to the special cropping for another party, expecting beautiful mermaids and only finding a small fish baby. He assumed it was his (he got around) and bore no prejudice, so took the mini merling on as another cabin boy. Although…loose with his morals he wasn't about to leave it alone to die. No self respecting naval officer would ever do a thing of the kind. The baby looked pleasant enough anyway, and was. He always gurgled happily and ate the fresh haddock he was served everyday in the galley without a single complaint. He was also clever. A bit too clever for his own good. The good Captain shipped Othello off to the mainland when he was ten. Too much gold had been "disappearing". The boy was every bit as deceitful as his father, and cheeky too (the whole crew spoiled him rotten). Roscoe admired that, he just wanted his accounts to balance….So with a rough hug Othello was pushed into an apprentice-ship with a locksmith, in the quiet red roofed town by the sea (over looked by a familiar white castle), and promptly forgot about.

Othello took on the trade valiantly. Never completely abhorred by the townsfolk, but still slightly alienated because of his mermish ancestry, he rose to fame. Working harder, and charming less than he had in his entire short life. By age eighteen he was close to have an apprentice ship in a large forge. (Locksmithing was practically the only thing he was good at. He'd gotten fired from all the other jobs he'd had. Even when he was living with Roscoe.) By age eighteen he'd also met and practically been excommunicated by his mer-family. Adeline had grudgingly come into town and collected him for a family gathering. It had not gone well. He was "no gentleman" by their standards. And a no good rotten scoundrel. A half-breed who had refused their generous offer of an arranged marriage, insulted the bride, Helga, and sassed Aunt Myrtle. And even after he'd smashed some dishes and stormed out, family members followed him everywhere. He couldn't avoid them. It seemed that there was no end to the Spire lineage. Male babies were rare, so even as a half breed they wanted him to have children.

Othello needed a way out. By his twentieth birthday he was desperate. So desperate that he didn't even resist capture by "The Darkness" for weapons manufacturing. (He was one of the best. How many forgers knew had to make mer-iron?) It got him onto a gummi-ship, so that he could run away. By his twenty third birthday, and after all his travels across the cosmos, he'd decided it'd be a good idea to join up officially with the darkness. They were winning. That was cool.

(Although, sometimes he goes back to his family for money. Actually, most of the time.)

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N/A

[~/\The Dragon Writer/\~]

One thing.

For your iron stomach ability, the poison resistance would only be for poisons taken via mouth, and wouldn't count for inhaled or injected poisons. Understand?

[ophelia]

(Wow...and I thought I had covered everything...)

Patched.

[~/\The Dragon Writer/\~]

| |

That close to patching everything the first time. XD

Anyway, looks good now.

~Accepted~

Locked and moved.