Post by Prince Valium on Jun 6, 2009 21:16:48 GMT -5
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~Basic info~
Behind every great individual, there is that voice which keeps them going onward and toward their next great adventure.
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Username ~ T.D.Ophelia
Other characters ~ ~Dysfunction Junction
Is this character canon?: No. I’d be very afraid if he was.
Link to audition thread ~ N/A
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~Character Info~
Waking up in the morning, your thoughts are cluttered. It takes a moment for you to fully become aware of your surroundings, but once you do, everything about your life comes back to you.
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Name ~
Prince Opium, Valium
Age ~
Fourteen Going on Fifteen
Birthplace ~
Enchanted Dominion (Aurora and Maleficent’s World)
Gender ~
Male
Race ~
Human
Special Class ~
N/A
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~Appearance~
As you are heading out the door of your house, a small glimmer of light catches your eye. You turn around and see a mirror, putting you face to face with your reflection.
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Physical appearance ~
Opium stands at about 5’4, not short enough to be considered an ill-fated “girly” nor tall enough to “man up”. His build is medium, if a bit skimpy, like low-fat milk and his complexion is a cream color, like freshly churned butter (albeit, much less yellow. Duh) or a cinnamon yogurt. Tender, dimpled, and airy. Smoothly whipped to perfection. From his long fingers, to the light carmel glaze of his shoulders. A tan he managed to ascertain through a slit window, and barely mask as masculine. Large liquid eyes, blue as the summer sky, a delicate nose, and lips like sugared violets are too androgynous too avoid confusion. The lather of frothy blond curls that flops over his forehead barely helps the matter. But his jaw line is strong, with a square winning smile. And a “manly” attitude radiates through his stance. His hips do not sashay nor does he talk with his hands.
Clothing/Accessories ~
He wears a tailored suit of lavender velvet, with a small white ascot. Gold filigree lines the collar and trims the sleeves, and several gold button pin the suit jacket. The suit jacket itself has striped puffed sleeves. A gold cravat ropes his waist as an ill-fitted holster for a scabbard. His (silly) black boots rise up to his knees, and have small gold spurs on either heel. The whole outfit is so embroidered that it looks frosted. Stiff purple icing topped with flounces of marzipan, fitted like a wedding cake.
[Image] (GOOD LORD!)
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~Personality~
As you're walking through the door, you see many sights that influence your mood. The different feelings that suddenly wash over you are many, leaving you with a strange mix of emotions.
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Alignment ~
Good
Behavior ~
Opium spends most of his time in a constant state of Euphoria. Completely, almost alarmingly, cheerful in every way. He has trouble communicating or comprehending the basic concept of melancholy. And he never enthuses anything without a smile, so no one ever really takes him seriously, even when he is in dire peril. They just think he is joking, in a fun, feel good, bubbly sort of way. (“Haha, guys! This scorpion is tickling more than just my funny bone, with it’s stinger! Ha ha! OW! Ha ha!”) Anger is something completely beyond him. His nose scrunches up, his eyes cross, you can see his brain practically jamming and smoking inside of his skull, desperately trying to categorize this unidentified “feeling”. Until finally- he turns red in the face, whines pathetically for clarification, or deals with the situation (the Manly Way) and bawls. He must remain hopelessly upbeat or self-destruct. It hurts him to watch others in tears.
He is also extremely prone to blissful confusion. Something he frequents nearly as often as Euphoria. (Not that Prince Valium is stupid, common sense just skipped over him when it was being handed out.) He really can be quite clever when he concentrates long enough to put in the effort. Mostly in the application of “love”. He has a Don Quixote penchant for epic romance and courtly love. To him, obtaining Love’s True Kiss and the perfect rescue from the Perfect Princess, is the most important thing he can achieve in his life. And although, admittedly, his attempts to secure this are ludicrous (stupid) and idealized (vapid) they are genius.
Opium is also virtually- fearless. His sunshine temperament carries over into nerves, which carries over into nervous giggling, which carries over into nervous excitement. Danger almost delights him. Everything to do with adventure is enormously enjoyable even when he is hyper ventilating. It is extremely annoying.
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~Weapons~
Suddenly, a Heartless appears in front of you, brandishing its claws and threatening to attack. You reach for your weapon and equip it, ready to defend yourself.
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Primary Weapon(s)
ID: Unicorn Torn (Two “Glass” Knitting Needles)
Quality: Average
[Description]
Two sharp knitting needles, about ten inches long and half an inch thick. Carved from two individual Unicorn horns, that were given freely as christening presents. Very beautiful and harder than diamond. Almost translucent, like the finest sugar spun glass. They glimmer in the sunlight and glow in the moonlight. They are almost unbreakable.
Secondary Weapon(s)
ID: Glass Sword
Quality: Poor
[Description]
A purely ornamental sword made out of glass with a golden hilt, and gold leaf. It is strong enough to withstand basic combat with other standard weapons (steel swords ect.) but not much else. It is just meant to look pretty. It shatters or melts easily, especially under magical attack.
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~Abilities~
Just as you're about to fight the creature, you feel the power of your ancestors filling you. The strength of a thousand men courses through your veins as you prepare for battle.
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AP left: 4
[[Horn Torn]]
[[Description]]
Horn Torn effectively “disrobes” it’s target, by unraveling whatever they are wearing and spinning it into golden thread. “Unicorn” light shoots from the needles and fires at the targets. If they are hit, the material of whatever they are wearing is magnetically attracted to the needles and begins to unravel towards them, converting into golden thread when it hits.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Horn Torn may only be used on clothing, or any article worn on the body as clothing (cloth, leather, armor of any kind or strength, animal hide, synthetic ect.). It does not have any effect on organic matter that is living and breathing, nor any other type of inanimate object such as a lamp or a sofa or a lump of chocolate. (The only exception to this rule is straw.) The quantity and quality of gold thread produced depends on the material that is being converted. The amount of time it takes a Horn Torn to “convert” a material into golden thread depends on the thickness and durability of said material. If it is thick magical iron, or some type of supreme armor, it may take a while to “unravel” or small quantities may only unravel at a time. However, if the target of the attack is wearing regular apparel or some type of lesser regular armor (such as plain iron or chain-mail) than the person may be disrobed extremely quickly. Almost immediately.
This attack my not be used without the weapon(s) ‘Unicorn Torn’. The Knitting needles must be in Opium’s hands for the attack to function. He not not wield it with the power of his will alone or if the weapon(s) are close to him or in the same space. He must be holding them. Flesh to horn contact. The attack does not work for anyone else who tries to wield the needles. It works for Opium alone because they are his.
Opium may also “reconvert” what he has unraveled if it is simplistic. If he has unraveled something as basic as regular clothes or plain iron armor he may reconstruct them. He may almost repair them, if he has enough of the right materials at his disposal. He can “knit” armor back together if their is spare scraps of the same material it was forged with- lying around. (Because repairing anything simplistic is part of the basis of his knowledge. He is an excellent tailor.) However, if he has “unraveled” something like high-level magical armor he cannot repair it because it is beyond his understanding or ability to acquire the unique materials that compose it.
It can be dodged it the target is fast enough to well...dodge...It can effect up to three people at one time. It cannot be employed at the same time as the other attacks. Targets may be effected on the ground or in the air. It is also effective in water.
[[Slip Knot]]
[[Description]]
Slip Knot effectively knocks it’s target to the ground.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Light shoots towards the ground from the needles and makes the target “slip”. Their back hits the ground and their legs go up into the air. When they try to get to their feet, they may retain their balance for two or three seconds then topple over again in the same position for a second time. And then again a third time. And then a fourth time. XD After that the target retains their balance normally again.
The area effected by the attack is only the immediate area of the afflicted. Although they cannot “escape” the area of the attack (because they are too busy slipping) until it is completed. The attack only effects those with their feet firmly planted on the ground, or some other organic material. (Ice, sand, dirt, grass, stone.) The attack does not function in water, although it functions on ice.
This attack my only be used when Opium has flesh to flesh contact with Unicorn Torn. It may not be used otherwise. The attack my not be used by anyone else who tries to wield Unicorn Torn. The attack my be used on up to three targets and no more. It may not be used at the same time as any other attacks. This attack is also only effect on living organic matter. It may not be used on inanimate objects.
[[Spinning Wheel]]
[[Description]]
This attack effectively spins the target/afflicted and binds them with golden thread.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Golden thread shoots from Unicorn Torn, and wraps around the target, spinning them in wild circles until they are fully “bound” from the feet to the neck. The length of time the target spins for depends on large or small they are, and how long it takes to cover them. The larger they are the longer they spin, the smaller the shorter. It may make the target dizzy, depending on their constitution.
The string itself is not very strong. And can be broken if the target is especially brawny.
That attack my be used on land, in the water, and in the air. It may be used on inanimate objects. It may not be used at the same time as other attacks. It may only be used when Opium has flesh to horn contact with Unicorn Horn. It may not be used by anyone else who tries to wield Unicorn Horn. It may only be used on a maximum of three targets.
Items
N/A
Equips
N/A
Special Abilities
N/A
Minions
N/A
Summons
N/A
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~History~
As you slay the last of the beasts, you put your weapon aside, and walk away, knowing your tale of bravery will be told for thousands of years to come.
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Once upon a time, there was a handsome Prince.
But he had an enchantment upon him of a fearful sort, which could only be broken by love’s first kiss. He was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible, fire-breathing dragon. Many brave Princesses had attempted to free him from this dreadful prison, but none had prevailed. He waited in the dragon’s keep -- in the highest room of the tallest tower -- for his true love…and true love’s first kiss.
Or at least that was how it was supposed to have gone.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” said the Fairy, slamming the book shut and trying to cram the Prince through a slit window.
“No Laverne, his feet go the other way!”
“Try putting him head first- or cross his arms, so he’s like, more compact.” Lexine adjusted her wings and Opium’s elbows, trying to a get a better stance on the battlements.
“This wouldn’t even have been an issue, if someone had remembered to enchant a door into the tower!”
“Rapunzel’s didn’t have one!”
“Rapunzel had tons of hair and was a girl. And if I remember correctly that was our problem.”
“Shut up Laurel. Opium is a very gender neutral name.”
“All the stuff at the christening party was pink too.”
“Well...THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”
“Nah uh!”
“Uh huh!"
“NAH UH!”
Wands clashed and things smashed. And Opium’s unconscious bottom hung neglected from the slit window.
Down, five stories below King Codeine and Queen Morphine watched anxiously from a velvet litter parked in the grass. Craning their necks, and shielding their eyes from the sun and the rain of magic glitter which clotted their tea. The King regretted ever inviting Fairy-God-People to family functions. The Queen regretted ever giving birth. It was just that kind of morning. Too sunny for anyone to watch their son being stuffed into a tower.
Of course, everything had been going along swimmingly until the christening. But that was about eight years ago, and everyone in the kingdom was still a little shocked how quickly things had gone down hill from there. After so much hope and expectation (after sitting through that abominably long baby shower), they had been robbed of all their hope. The baby (now child) was not normal. Not healthy and functioning as a future heir. And it was not cursed either. A curse from a wicked fairy or a nasty warty witch would have been a perfectly acceptable excuse for the prince’s faults. But no. No! He was blessed and in the worst possible way.
When Opium was still cooing in his crib during the midst of the celebration, the fairy’s had been so hung-over from a long string of Wedding’s, Wishes, Midnight Balls, Birthdays, and Blessings that they had been quite unable to distinguish his sex. As a result Laverne, Laurel, and Lexine had leaned over him and exclaimed to each other that he: “Was the most beautiful baby girl!” that they had ever seen. Waiving around their pastel colored wands and flitting their pastel colored wings, they awarded “her” the usual gifts, of beauty, grace, domestic ease ect, and a few...extra that none of them could quite remember the next morning. When they all had terrible headaches and sour stomachs, despite all their magic glitter.
The Queen and King noticed nothing. They were too engrossed in Opium’s chubby pink cheeks, his baby laughter. Not to mention the promising future assured by the kiss of white magic and the absence of any curses. They had successfully excluded any Bad Fairies or Witches without a hitch. Everything seemed to be looking up. And the prince seemed perfectly normal, exceptional, until his sixth birthday.
Upon his sixth birthday, instead of romping around outside, rough-housing, or play-jousting with his peers, he fainted.
It was quite abrupt. He had been shoveling a large mound of chocolate birthday-cake into his mouth when he suddenly threw his wrist passionately to his forehead and keeled over backwards. It happened four more times that same day. And the King and Queen were convinced it was just a phase. But then the peculiarity of Opium’s behavior continued to increase dramatically. Over the next several months not only did he carry on fainting or flying into passions, he developed an almost disturbing affection for sewing, embroidering, or knitting of any kind. Under any other circumstances, he would not have been begrudged of this hobby. Simply because it was not what boys “did”. (His parents just wanted him to be happy.) But it was not just a hobby. It was an addiction.
The prince’s room filled up with doilies, monogrammed handkerchieves, home samplers, crocheted tea-cozies, scarves, mittens, lace table cloths, and patchwork quilts. Queen Morphine was becoming frantic. It was almost impossible to pretend she had lost it all! Especially the hideous burgundy knitted rug, which the prince had bequeathed to her as an early christmas present. He had long ago stopped believing that bandits stole the gifts he gave to her.
And then there was the fact that the prince did not seem to be taking delight in his own handiwork. Opium did not complain, never complained, he smiled instead. But he always seemed to be looking longingly at the outdoors when his fingers picked at thread. When asked why he chose to darn socks instead of playing tag, he answered: “Dunno, really wish I could, but I can’t stop! Hehehe.”
And THEN, to top all, he started to spin things into GOLD. All the straw in the stable in one night!
That was when the Fairy-God-Mother’s received one very angry summons.
“Oh, my!” they gasped when they saw the pile of gold that filled the courtyard and the busily working spindle. “Oh crud!” they cried when they saw that the spinner had short hair and breaches.
“What have you done to our son!?” hissed King Codeine, as royal guards hauled Opium away from the loom. He was kicking and screaming, lunging for anything that looked serviceable enough to weave a pair of stockings.
“Uh...S-S-Son?” said the Fairies.
A vein pulsed on the King’s forehead. “Yes, my son.”
“Uh..er...um...We thought ‘he’ was like...a she.”
The King’s expression alone was enough to bring everything flooding back. The fairies clamored to recount their screw up.
“Uh..Uh! We gave her- HIM, beauty that increased with age and-!”
“-accidentally a little Rumplestiltskin mixed in....actually a lot-”
“-of spinning! Great at house hold chores! Just-”
“-too much purity. But I thought the Princess- Prince would need-”
“The FAINTING?! Oh well...that-”
“ENOUGH!!!” The King slammed his scepter down on the flagstone.
The fairies cowered, retreating into their primary colors.
“FIX THIS!”
Laurel was the first to recover from her stupor and edge forward, wringing her hands. “We c-c-can’t?”
“WHAT!!!?” Black birds flew screaming from the surrounding trees.
“Only black magic can be reversed. White magic is permanent...That’s why it always overcomes.”
“Like-”, interjected Lexine “whiteout over ink.”
“WELL FIND A WAY BY SUNSET TOMORROW OR I’LL SET A PRICE ON ALL OF YOUR HEADS!”
The fairy’s drifted off miserably. Their magic sparkle dwindled until it was only a faint chalky sputtering. They all knew what they had to do. It was humiliating. But it would be ten times more humiliating to be branded as “bad fairies”. They would never be invited to anything again. Bearing through this was the only option. White magic was truly impenetrable.
DINGDONG!GOAWAY! DINGDONG!GOAWAAAAAAY!
Rang the doorbell of Prunella The Pincher, the nastiest, wartiest, ugliest, Witch in the county. Her haunted cave sat in an oozing swamp filled with giant hairy spiders. And she never waxed her eyebrows. It made Laurel, Lexine, and Laverne shudder.
“We need your help...” they sighed, slouching dejectedly on her stoop.
“MYYYYYEEEE HEEELP?!” she screeched, picking toad-eyes out between her teeth and scratching her hunch-back.
A dreadful sigh and then: “Yeah...”
“No.” she slammed her door in their faces.
They knocked again.
“WHAT?! Oh yooooou again.”
“Please...”
“No!”
She whammed the door shut for a second time and locked it.
“PLEEAAAAASE HELP! It’s about Prince Opium!”
“Why should eyyyeeeee?” came the muffled reply from behind the keyhole. “Those wet-blanket parents of hissssss never invite me to any of their parties. Not even the potlucks! And I make great quicheeeee.”
The fairies wracked their brains desperately. “You can come to OUR Fairy Ball! Next time...we have one...maybe...”
The door creaked open. One rolling eye peeked out. “And I can bring my Buzzard-Surprise quicheeeee?”
“Sure... whatever you want.” They crossed their fingers behind their backs.
“AND NOOOO CROSSIEEEEEEZZZZ!”
The fairies sighed again. “Fine...”
“Well okay then!” Prunella ushered them inside. Her cave was littered with frog’s legs and viper’s tails. Her easy-chair had a man-sized centipede lounging in it, and it gave them a friendly wave as they made their way to a bubbling cauldron in the center of the room. Crowding around it as closely as they could without being singed by the fire.
Prunella curled her withered hands over the contents, and muttered a few crude sounding words. A spindle appeared in the center of the muck, shinning wetly through the steam of the concoction as it shimmered. Then Opium materialized and began churning away crazily on the spindle until golden thread obscured everything in a belch of sulfur smoke. “Ah I seeeeeee.” said Prunella tapping her forehead. “The chiiilllld has many...problems.” She looked up at all three fairies quizzically.
“Don’t ask.”
“I don’t need to. I can see the three schhhhhhmucks before me as plain as day.” She twirled her thumbs over the potion again so that the spindle shifted, transformed, and Opium was out of the picture. Then the witch pulled out a large wooden spoon and stirred, so that when the liquid stopped swirling the spindle seemed darker, even more ominous in the cauldron. The needle glistened with a single drop of acid green lacquer. “Make sure the boy pricks his fingers on this.”
“It won’t, you know, kill him will it? I mean, that stuff looks like poison.” The fairies leaned down closer to inspect it. Braving the noxious fumes.
“Eh.” Prunella shrugged her shoulders. “Probableeeeee not.”
“Then will it make him sleep for one-hundred years?”
“Just a feeeeewww hours. But once he wakes up, the black spell must be broken the traditional way. So that all the bunggggglleeee you ninnniiiieeesss did will begin to dissolve. Black will counter act white. The prince will be able to walk into the room without patching the currrrtains.”
“A kiss then? To break the spell?”
“Not juuust anyeeeee kissss. True Love’s Kiss. A kiss of royalty. A kiss of resssscue. Set the boy up in a tall tower.”
“So this will reverse everything?”
“Nooo. White magic is still stronnnnger than black. He will still have the same...talennnts you bestowed upon him, but they will be channnellled in a waaay that is less destruuuuctive. And they will only do that with Theeee Kisssss of kisses. He was also born an idiot. There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”
“Oh. Where’s the spindle then?”
Prunella rolled her non-rolling eye and gestured at a dusty corner of the cave at box marked: DARK SPINNING WHEEL. “There. Just asssssemble. Here’s the vial with the poison for the needle.” She tossed them a vial of acid green liquid. “The instructionssss are in this book.” She kicked a tattered copy of Sleeping Beauty across the floor.
“Now GOOOOO! I must preparrrree my quiicccheee.” Prunella began to usher them out again.
“But WAIT! How do we get the prince to prick his finger? And how do we get the prince up in a tower?!”
“Not my prooobbleeem sweetlings.” The hag cackled before she vanished into the gloom.
Luckily, the Prince was too crazed by his ‘blessing’ to really discern the difference between a normal spinning wheel and a spinning wheel that had been most likely possessed by the devil. When he saw the crooked black wood and the needle dripping with green poison, he gave a cry of joy and leaped at it. Unconscious in an impressive three seconds flat.
And then our story had come full circle.
With the fairies trying to cram the imperial Prince Opium Valium through a three by three window.
“PUT SOME ELBOW GREASE INTO IT!” shouted Queen Morphine from the ground.
“WE’RE TRYING!” the Fairies screamed back. Giving an almighty push, so that the prince shot through the gap like bullet. There was a faint crack, like soft blond skull hitting stone very hard. But everyone chose to ignore that. Instead the fairies just tossed in a pair of Unicorn Horn knitting needles after him, as a consolation prize (it would be a long time up in that tower and the prince needed something to do) and tried to ponder where they would get a dragon. Flying down to hold a consulate with their sovereigns.
Both parties decided a very large and very scary picture of one would suffice. And maybe a few thorns in bluish purples to compliment the yellow scales. That would be enough to dissuade any unworthy candidates. The court artist would have to be summoned.
Then they left, leaving only a note:
Dear Son,
You have been cursed. And because you have been cursed you have been locked in this tower for your own safety. Do not be alarmed. Knitting Needles have been provided.
School books, clothes, yards of thread, bolts of cloth, and a large food supply located in the main chamber will sustain you. We expect you to study very hard and be the most Valiant Valium there ever was. Master etiquette of all kinds, do not try to climb down (there is a fearsome...dragon at the bottom of the keep), and most of all be good. You will not be alone. You will always be in our hearts, and your Fairy-God-People will occasionally pop by to check up on you. (They are very nice pretty colors.) And do not just be good for us. Be good for your Kingdom and your future wife.
One day she will rescue you. She will slay the dragon. She will climb up through your window. She will carry you into the sunset on a creamy white horse. She will be a beautiful princess, your true love. And she will bestow Love’s True Kiss upon you. Breaking your spell so that you may live Happily Ever After. This is what everyone aspires to be. This is what everyone aspires to have. Wait, treasure the waiting until then. And then, when then comes, all your dreams will come true.
~Love Mom and Dad
+
Fairy-God-People
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Years passed. Opium waited and knitted.
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~Class~
Before you embark on your journey a vision comes upon you. You see three weapons in front of you.
~ A sword of terrible destruction - The power of the warrior: Invincible courage.
~ A shield to repel all - The power of the guardian: Kindness to aid friends.
~ A staff of wonder and ruin - The power of the mystic: Inner strength.
You know that one of them must be chosen. What power will you seek?
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~ A shield to repel all - The power of the guardian: Kindness to aid friends.
~Other~
Gosh, I had to make a separate account for his character, because I just had to. It would have sullied my main one beyond all recognition. XD This was the most fun I've had making a character in a while.
~Basic info~
Behind every great individual, there is that voice which keeps them going onward and toward their next great adventure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Username ~ T.D.Ophelia
Other characters ~ ~Dysfunction Junction
Is this character canon?: No. I’d be very afraid if he was.
Link to audition thread ~ N/A
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~Character Info~
Waking up in the morning, your thoughts are cluttered. It takes a moment for you to fully become aware of your surroundings, but once you do, everything about your life comes back to you.
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Name ~
Prince Opium, Valium
Age ~
Fourteen Going on Fifteen
Birthplace ~
Enchanted Dominion (Aurora and Maleficent’s World)
Gender ~
Male
Race ~
Human
Special Class ~
N/A
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~Appearance~
As you are heading out the door of your house, a small glimmer of light catches your eye. You turn around and see a mirror, putting you face to face with your reflection.
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Physical appearance ~
Opium stands at about 5’4, not short enough to be considered an ill-fated “girly” nor tall enough to “man up”. His build is medium, if a bit skimpy, like low-fat milk and his complexion is a cream color, like freshly churned butter (albeit, much less yellow. Duh) or a cinnamon yogurt. Tender, dimpled, and airy. Smoothly whipped to perfection. From his long fingers, to the light carmel glaze of his shoulders. A tan he managed to ascertain through a slit window, and barely mask as masculine. Large liquid eyes, blue as the summer sky, a delicate nose, and lips like sugared violets are too androgynous too avoid confusion. The lather of frothy blond curls that flops over his forehead barely helps the matter. But his jaw line is strong, with a square winning smile. And a “manly” attitude radiates through his stance. His hips do not sashay nor does he talk with his hands.
Clothing/Accessories ~
He wears a tailored suit of lavender velvet, with a small white ascot. Gold filigree lines the collar and trims the sleeves, and several gold button pin the suit jacket. The suit jacket itself has striped puffed sleeves. A gold cravat ropes his waist as an ill-fitted holster for a scabbard. His (silly) black boots rise up to his knees, and have small gold spurs on either heel. The whole outfit is so embroidered that it looks frosted. Stiff purple icing topped with flounces of marzipan, fitted like a wedding cake.
[Image] (GOOD LORD!)
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~Personality~
As you're walking through the door, you see many sights that influence your mood. The different feelings that suddenly wash over you are many, leaving you with a strange mix of emotions.
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Alignment ~
Good
Behavior ~
Opium spends most of his time in a constant state of Euphoria. Completely, almost alarmingly, cheerful in every way. He has trouble communicating or comprehending the basic concept of melancholy. And he never enthuses anything without a smile, so no one ever really takes him seriously, even when he is in dire peril. They just think he is joking, in a fun, feel good, bubbly sort of way. (“Haha, guys! This scorpion is tickling more than just my funny bone, with it’s stinger! Ha ha! OW! Ha ha!”) Anger is something completely beyond him. His nose scrunches up, his eyes cross, you can see his brain practically jamming and smoking inside of his skull, desperately trying to categorize this unidentified “feeling”. Until finally- he turns red in the face, whines pathetically for clarification, or deals with the situation (the Manly Way) and bawls. He must remain hopelessly upbeat or self-destruct. It hurts him to watch others in tears.
He is also extremely prone to blissful confusion. Something he frequents nearly as often as Euphoria. (Not that Prince Valium is stupid, common sense just skipped over him when it was being handed out.) He really can be quite clever when he concentrates long enough to put in the effort. Mostly in the application of “love”. He has a Don Quixote penchant for epic romance and courtly love. To him, obtaining Love’s True Kiss and the perfect rescue from the Perfect Princess, is the most important thing he can achieve in his life. And although, admittedly, his attempts to secure this are ludicrous (stupid) and idealized (vapid) they are genius.
Opium is also virtually- fearless. His sunshine temperament carries over into nerves, which carries over into nervous giggling, which carries over into nervous excitement. Danger almost delights him. Everything to do with adventure is enormously enjoyable even when he is hyper ventilating. It is extremely annoying.
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~Weapons~
Suddenly, a Heartless appears in front of you, brandishing its claws and threatening to attack. You reach for your weapon and equip it, ready to defend yourself.
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Primary Weapon(s)
ID: Unicorn Torn (Two “Glass” Knitting Needles)
Quality: Average
[Description]
Two sharp knitting needles, about ten inches long and half an inch thick. Carved from two individual Unicorn horns, that were given freely as christening presents. Very beautiful and harder than diamond. Almost translucent, like the finest sugar spun glass. They glimmer in the sunlight and glow in the moonlight. They are almost unbreakable.
Secondary Weapon(s)
ID: Glass Sword
Quality: Poor
[Description]
A purely ornamental sword made out of glass with a golden hilt, and gold leaf. It is strong enough to withstand basic combat with other standard weapons (steel swords ect.) but not much else. It is just meant to look pretty. It shatters or melts easily, especially under magical attack.
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~Abilities~
Just as you're about to fight the creature, you feel the power of your ancestors filling you. The strength of a thousand men courses through your veins as you prepare for battle.
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AP left: 4
[[Horn Torn]]
[[Description]]
Horn Torn effectively “disrobes” it’s target, by unraveling whatever they are wearing and spinning it into golden thread. “Unicorn” light shoots from the needles and fires at the targets. If they are hit, the material of whatever they are wearing is magnetically attracted to the needles and begins to unravel towards them, converting into golden thread when it hits.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Horn Torn may only be used on clothing, or any article worn on the body as clothing (cloth, leather, armor of any kind or strength, animal hide, synthetic ect.). It does not have any effect on organic matter that is living and breathing, nor any other type of inanimate object such as a lamp or a sofa or a lump of chocolate. (The only exception to this rule is straw.) The quantity and quality of gold thread produced depends on the material that is being converted. The amount of time it takes a Horn Torn to “convert” a material into golden thread depends on the thickness and durability of said material. If it is thick magical iron, or some type of supreme armor, it may take a while to “unravel” or small quantities may only unravel at a time. However, if the target of the attack is wearing regular apparel or some type of lesser regular armor (such as plain iron or chain-mail) than the person may be disrobed extremely quickly. Almost immediately.
This attack my not be used without the weapon(s) ‘Unicorn Torn’. The Knitting needles must be in Opium’s hands for the attack to function. He not not wield it with the power of his will alone or if the weapon(s) are close to him or in the same space. He must be holding them. Flesh to horn contact. The attack does not work for anyone else who tries to wield the needles. It works for Opium alone because they are his.
Opium may also “reconvert” what he has unraveled if it is simplistic. If he has unraveled something as basic as regular clothes or plain iron armor he may reconstruct them. He may almost repair them, if he has enough of the right materials at his disposal. He can “knit” armor back together if their is spare scraps of the same material it was forged with- lying around. (Because repairing anything simplistic is part of the basis of his knowledge. He is an excellent tailor.) However, if he has “unraveled” something like high-level magical armor he cannot repair it because it is beyond his understanding or ability to acquire the unique materials that compose it.
It can be dodged it the target is fast enough to well...dodge...It can effect up to three people at one time. It cannot be employed at the same time as the other attacks. Targets may be effected on the ground or in the air. It is also effective in water.
[[Slip Knot]]
[[Description]]
Slip Knot effectively knocks it’s target to the ground.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Light shoots towards the ground from the needles and makes the target “slip”. Their back hits the ground and their legs go up into the air. When they try to get to their feet, they may retain their balance for two or three seconds then topple over again in the same position for a second time. And then again a third time. And then a fourth time. XD After that the target retains their balance normally again.
The area effected by the attack is only the immediate area of the afflicted. Although they cannot “escape” the area of the attack (because they are too busy slipping) until it is completed. The attack only effects those with their feet firmly planted on the ground, or some other organic material. (Ice, sand, dirt, grass, stone.) The attack does not function in water, although it functions on ice.
This attack my only be used when Opium has flesh to flesh contact with Unicorn Torn. It may not be used otherwise. The attack my not be used by anyone else who tries to wield Unicorn Torn. The attack my be used on up to three targets and no more. It may not be used at the same time as any other attacks. This attack is also only effect on living organic matter. It may not be used on inanimate objects.
[[Spinning Wheel]]
[[Description]]
This attack effectively spins the target/afflicted and binds them with golden thread.
Strength:
Weak
Uses:
Golden thread shoots from Unicorn Torn, and wraps around the target, spinning them in wild circles until they are fully “bound” from the feet to the neck. The length of time the target spins for depends on large or small they are, and how long it takes to cover them. The larger they are the longer they spin, the smaller the shorter. It may make the target dizzy, depending on their constitution.
The string itself is not very strong. And can be broken if the target is especially brawny.
That attack my be used on land, in the water, and in the air. It may be used on inanimate objects. It may not be used at the same time as other attacks. It may only be used when Opium has flesh to horn contact with Unicorn Horn. It may not be used by anyone else who tries to wield Unicorn Horn. It may only be used on a maximum of three targets.
Items
N/A
Equips
N/A
Special Abilities
N/A
Minions
N/A
Summons
N/A
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~History~
As you slay the last of the beasts, you put your weapon aside, and walk away, knowing your tale of bravery will be told for thousands of years to come.
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Once upon a time, there was a handsome Prince.
But he had an enchantment upon him of a fearful sort, which could only be broken by love’s first kiss. He was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible, fire-breathing dragon. Many brave Princesses had attempted to free him from this dreadful prison, but none had prevailed. He waited in the dragon’s keep -- in the highest room of the tallest tower -- for his true love…and true love’s first kiss.
Or at least that was how it was supposed to have gone.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” said the Fairy, slamming the book shut and trying to cram the Prince through a slit window.
“No Laverne, his feet go the other way!”
“Try putting him head first- or cross his arms, so he’s like, more compact.” Lexine adjusted her wings and Opium’s elbows, trying to a get a better stance on the battlements.
“This wouldn’t even have been an issue, if someone had remembered to enchant a door into the tower!”
“Rapunzel’s didn’t have one!”
“Rapunzel had tons of hair and was a girl. And if I remember correctly that was our problem.”
“Shut up Laurel. Opium is a very gender neutral name.”
“All the stuff at the christening party was pink too.”
“Well...THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”
“Nah uh!”
“Uh huh!"
“NAH UH!”
Wands clashed and things smashed. And Opium’s unconscious bottom hung neglected from the slit window.
Down, five stories below King Codeine and Queen Morphine watched anxiously from a velvet litter parked in the grass. Craning their necks, and shielding their eyes from the sun and the rain of magic glitter which clotted their tea. The King regretted ever inviting Fairy-God-People to family functions. The Queen regretted ever giving birth. It was just that kind of morning. Too sunny for anyone to watch their son being stuffed into a tower.
Of course, everything had been going along swimmingly until the christening. But that was about eight years ago, and everyone in the kingdom was still a little shocked how quickly things had gone down hill from there. After so much hope and expectation (after sitting through that abominably long baby shower), they had been robbed of all their hope. The baby (now child) was not normal. Not healthy and functioning as a future heir. And it was not cursed either. A curse from a wicked fairy or a nasty warty witch would have been a perfectly acceptable excuse for the prince’s faults. But no. No! He was blessed and in the worst possible way.
When Opium was still cooing in his crib during the midst of the celebration, the fairy’s had been so hung-over from a long string of Wedding’s, Wishes, Midnight Balls, Birthdays, and Blessings that they had been quite unable to distinguish his sex. As a result Laverne, Laurel, and Lexine had leaned over him and exclaimed to each other that he: “Was the most beautiful baby girl!” that they had ever seen. Waiving around their pastel colored wands and flitting their pastel colored wings, they awarded “her” the usual gifts, of beauty, grace, domestic ease ect, and a few...extra that none of them could quite remember the next morning. When they all had terrible headaches and sour stomachs, despite all their magic glitter.
The Queen and King noticed nothing. They were too engrossed in Opium’s chubby pink cheeks, his baby laughter. Not to mention the promising future assured by the kiss of white magic and the absence of any curses. They had successfully excluded any Bad Fairies or Witches without a hitch. Everything seemed to be looking up. And the prince seemed perfectly normal, exceptional, until his sixth birthday.
Upon his sixth birthday, instead of romping around outside, rough-housing, or play-jousting with his peers, he fainted.
It was quite abrupt. He had been shoveling a large mound of chocolate birthday-cake into his mouth when he suddenly threw his wrist passionately to his forehead and keeled over backwards. It happened four more times that same day. And the King and Queen were convinced it was just a phase. But then the peculiarity of Opium’s behavior continued to increase dramatically. Over the next several months not only did he carry on fainting or flying into passions, he developed an almost disturbing affection for sewing, embroidering, or knitting of any kind. Under any other circumstances, he would not have been begrudged of this hobby. Simply because it was not what boys “did”. (His parents just wanted him to be happy.) But it was not just a hobby. It was an addiction.
The prince’s room filled up with doilies, monogrammed handkerchieves, home samplers, crocheted tea-cozies, scarves, mittens, lace table cloths, and patchwork quilts. Queen Morphine was becoming frantic. It was almost impossible to pretend she had lost it all! Especially the hideous burgundy knitted rug, which the prince had bequeathed to her as an early christmas present. He had long ago stopped believing that bandits stole the gifts he gave to her.
And then there was the fact that the prince did not seem to be taking delight in his own handiwork. Opium did not complain, never complained, he smiled instead. But he always seemed to be looking longingly at the outdoors when his fingers picked at thread. When asked why he chose to darn socks instead of playing tag, he answered: “Dunno, really wish I could, but I can’t stop! Hehehe.”
And THEN, to top all, he started to spin things into GOLD. All the straw in the stable in one night!
That was when the Fairy-God-Mother’s received one very angry summons.
“Oh, my!” they gasped when they saw the pile of gold that filled the courtyard and the busily working spindle. “Oh crud!” they cried when they saw that the spinner had short hair and breaches.
“What have you done to our son!?” hissed King Codeine, as royal guards hauled Opium away from the loom. He was kicking and screaming, lunging for anything that looked serviceable enough to weave a pair of stockings.
“Uh...S-S-Son?” said the Fairies.
A vein pulsed on the King’s forehead. “Yes, my son.”
“Uh..er...um...We thought ‘he’ was like...a she.”
The King’s expression alone was enough to bring everything flooding back. The fairies clamored to recount their screw up.
“Uh..Uh! We gave her- HIM, beauty that increased with age and-!”
“-accidentally a little Rumplestiltskin mixed in....actually a lot-”
“-of spinning! Great at house hold chores! Just-”
“-too much purity. But I thought the Princess- Prince would need-”
“The FAINTING?! Oh well...that-”
“ENOUGH!!!” The King slammed his scepter down on the flagstone.
The fairies cowered, retreating into their primary colors.
“FIX THIS!”
Laurel was the first to recover from her stupor and edge forward, wringing her hands. “We c-c-can’t?”
“WHAT!!!?” Black birds flew screaming from the surrounding trees.
“Only black magic can be reversed. White magic is permanent...That’s why it always overcomes.”
“Like-”, interjected Lexine “whiteout over ink.”
“WELL FIND A WAY BY SUNSET TOMORROW OR I’LL SET A PRICE ON ALL OF YOUR HEADS!”
The fairy’s drifted off miserably. Their magic sparkle dwindled until it was only a faint chalky sputtering. They all knew what they had to do. It was humiliating. But it would be ten times more humiliating to be branded as “bad fairies”. They would never be invited to anything again. Bearing through this was the only option. White magic was truly impenetrable.
DINGDONG!GOAWAY! DINGDONG!GOAWAAAAAAY!
Rang the doorbell of Prunella The Pincher, the nastiest, wartiest, ugliest, Witch in the county. Her haunted cave sat in an oozing swamp filled with giant hairy spiders. And she never waxed her eyebrows. It made Laurel, Lexine, and Laverne shudder.
“We need your help...” they sighed, slouching dejectedly on her stoop.
“MYYYYYEEEE HEEELP?!” she screeched, picking toad-eyes out between her teeth and scratching her hunch-back.
A dreadful sigh and then: “Yeah...”
“No.” she slammed her door in their faces.
They knocked again.
“WHAT?! Oh yooooou again.”
“Please...”
“No!”
She whammed the door shut for a second time and locked it.
“PLEEAAAAASE HELP! It’s about Prince Opium!”
“Why should eyyyeeeee?” came the muffled reply from behind the keyhole. “Those wet-blanket parents of hissssss never invite me to any of their parties. Not even the potlucks! And I make great quicheeeee.”
The fairies wracked their brains desperately. “You can come to OUR Fairy Ball! Next time...we have one...maybe...”
The door creaked open. One rolling eye peeked out. “And I can bring my Buzzard-Surprise quicheeeee?”
“Sure... whatever you want.” They crossed their fingers behind their backs.
“AND NOOOO CROSSIEEEEEEZZZZ!”
The fairies sighed again. “Fine...”
“Well okay then!” Prunella ushered them inside. Her cave was littered with frog’s legs and viper’s tails. Her easy-chair had a man-sized centipede lounging in it, and it gave them a friendly wave as they made their way to a bubbling cauldron in the center of the room. Crowding around it as closely as they could without being singed by the fire.
Prunella curled her withered hands over the contents, and muttered a few crude sounding words. A spindle appeared in the center of the muck, shinning wetly through the steam of the concoction as it shimmered. Then Opium materialized and began churning away crazily on the spindle until golden thread obscured everything in a belch of sulfur smoke. “Ah I seeeeeee.” said Prunella tapping her forehead. “The chiiilllld has many...problems.” She looked up at all three fairies quizzically.
“Don’t ask.”
“I don’t need to. I can see the three schhhhhhmucks before me as plain as day.” She twirled her thumbs over the potion again so that the spindle shifted, transformed, and Opium was out of the picture. Then the witch pulled out a large wooden spoon and stirred, so that when the liquid stopped swirling the spindle seemed darker, even more ominous in the cauldron. The needle glistened with a single drop of acid green lacquer. “Make sure the boy pricks his fingers on this.”
“It won’t, you know, kill him will it? I mean, that stuff looks like poison.” The fairies leaned down closer to inspect it. Braving the noxious fumes.
“Eh.” Prunella shrugged her shoulders. “Probableeeeee not.”
“Then will it make him sleep for one-hundred years?”
“Just a feeeeewww hours. But once he wakes up, the black spell must be broken the traditional way. So that all the bunggggglleeee you ninnniiiieeesss did will begin to dissolve. Black will counter act white. The prince will be able to walk into the room without patching the currrrtains.”
“A kiss then? To break the spell?”
“Not juuust anyeeeee kissss. True Love’s Kiss. A kiss of royalty. A kiss of resssscue. Set the boy up in a tall tower.”
“So this will reverse everything?”
“Nooo. White magic is still stronnnnger than black. He will still have the same...talennnts you bestowed upon him, but they will be channnellled in a waaay that is less destruuuuctive. And they will only do that with Theeee Kisssss of kisses. He was also born an idiot. There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”
“Oh. Where’s the spindle then?”
Prunella rolled her non-rolling eye and gestured at a dusty corner of the cave at box marked: DARK SPINNING WHEEL. “There. Just asssssemble. Here’s the vial with the poison for the needle.” She tossed them a vial of acid green liquid. “The instructionssss are in this book.” She kicked a tattered copy of Sleeping Beauty across the floor.
“Now GOOOOO! I must preparrrree my quiicccheee.” Prunella began to usher them out again.
“But WAIT! How do we get the prince to prick his finger? And how do we get the prince up in a tower?!”
“Not my prooobbleeem sweetlings.” The hag cackled before she vanished into the gloom.
Luckily, the Prince was too crazed by his ‘blessing’ to really discern the difference between a normal spinning wheel and a spinning wheel that had been most likely possessed by the devil. When he saw the crooked black wood and the needle dripping with green poison, he gave a cry of joy and leaped at it. Unconscious in an impressive three seconds flat.
And then our story had come full circle.
With the fairies trying to cram the imperial Prince Opium Valium through a three by three window.
“PUT SOME ELBOW GREASE INTO IT!” shouted Queen Morphine from the ground.
“WE’RE TRYING!” the Fairies screamed back. Giving an almighty push, so that the prince shot through the gap like bullet. There was a faint crack, like soft blond skull hitting stone very hard. But everyone chose to ignore that. Instead the fairies just tossed in a pair of Unicorn Horn knitting needles after him, as a consolation prize (it would be a long time up in that tower and the prince needed something to do) and tried to ponder where they would get a dragon. Flying down to hold a consulate with their sovereigns.
Both parties decided a very large and very scary picture of one would suffice. And maybe a few thorns in bluish purples to compliment the yellow scales. That would be enough to dissuade any unworthy candidates. The court artist would have to be summoned.
Then they left, leaving only a note:
Dear Son,
You have been cursed. And because you have been cursed you have been locked in this tower for your own safety. Do not be alarmed. Knitting Needles have been provided.
School books, clothes, yards of thread, bolts of cloth, and a large food supply located in the main chamber will sustain you. We expect you to study very hard and be the most Valiant Valium there ever was. Master etiquette of all kinds, do not try to climb down (there is a fearsome...dragon at the bottom of the keep), and most of all be good. You will not be alone. You will always be in our hearts, and your Fairy-God-People will occasionally pop by to check up on you. (They are very nice pretty colors.) And do not just be good for us. Be good for your Kingdom and your future wife.
One day she will rescue you. She will slay the dragon. She will climb up through your window. She will carry you into the sunset on a creamy white horse. She will be a beautiful princess, your true love. And she will bestow Love’s True Kiss upon you. Breaking your spell so that you may live Happily Ever After. This is what everyone aspires to be. This is what everyone aspires to have. Wait, treasure the waiting until then. And then, when then comes, all your dreams will come true.
~Love Mom and Dad
+
Fairy-God-People
OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Years passed. Opium waited and knitted.
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~Class~
Before you embark on your journey a vision comes upon you. You see three weapons in front of you.
~ A sword of terrible destruction - The power of the warrior: Invincible courage.
~ A shield to repel all - The power of the guardian: Kindness to aid friends.
~ A staff of wonder and ruin - The power of the mystic: Inner strength.
You know that one of them must be chosen. What power will you seek?
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~ A shield to repel all - The power of the guardian: Kindness to aid friends.
~Other~
Gosh, I had to make a separate account for his character, because I just had to. It would have sullied my main one beyond all recognition. XD This was the most fun I've had making a character in a while.
I did post in shades of grey if anyone even remembers that lmao