Azmot Rivael

Proliferation of Envy

723 years

32

Envy - True Sin

None

6'2

215 lbs

Azmot has very long, thin black hair that entertwines into a ponytail, the descendingly thin, rope-like structure going to almost knee-level. He wears the traditional, now powerless, Togabito garb, covering up almost all of his physical features. Under his thick, pale lips let loose a long chin and well-defined jaw, almost as if it was too large for his head. Usually with worry or intensity, his eyebrows are pressed in and focused on the current situation, the almost closed eyes underneath holding the dot-like eyes. The entirety of his frame is focused and perscise, even underneath his garb.

Though he normally doesn't change out of his attire, his curiousity, borderline lust for knowledge drives the necessity to blend in once in a while. He has been seen in a tucked-in white shirt before, black slacks, and regular shoes, though it has variatins based on who he's stolen from or whatever form he has taken to correspond with the situation. He's almost never in something, or someone, flashy to avoid attention in the obvious way; he wants the quiet ones, the harder ones. During battle, his garb comes off, with a shirtless Azmot and black pants on the bottom.

His body is built but packed, the muscle he contains always contained in a small area to maximize efficiency. He doesn't really have muscles too well defined when he's in his regular form; it's more just there, for lack of a better term.

-Information
--Select Attention
---Secrecy

-Too much attention
--Wasted Time
---Idiocy

-Reserved
--Blunt
---Emotionally Unattatched

-Analytical
--Intelligent
---Descisive

Sinner Chains - 4 Foot long chains that each hang from his wrists, Azmot uses them for defense / offensive purposes only. They are nearly indestructible and are quite heavy.

Name: Watashi o aisuru - Love Me
Type: Supplementary
Cost: Low
Range: contact
Description: Azmot comes into contact with someone, his features grotesquely morphing rapidly into the person he touches. Wounds are kept, and the transformation lasts for ten of the user's own post. The voice is also mimicked, but the usage of the voice is completely at Azmot's disposal (saying, just because he sounds like someone doesn't mean he can inflect words correctly or speak with an accent).
Cooldown: 3 Posts

Name: Kofuku MAX - Happiness MAX
Type: Defensive
Cost: High
Range: Contact
Description: Allows Azmot to absorb the energy of an oncoming projectile-based, energy-based attack that he comes into contact with, converting it into stamina to prevent himself from tiring.
Cooldown: 12 Posts

Name: Ai o shiru - Knowing Love
Type: Supplementary/Offensive
Cost: Low
Range: Self - 20 Yards
Description: By temporarily turning a limb, appendage, or section of his body into a mostly solid, gelatin based substance, he is able to minimize cute-type damage as well as stretch that part of the body, able to fully extend it 20 yards. Each extension/retraction costs energy, and only one part of the body may be utilized for this at a time. The gelatin substance is a sickly green and can hold objects and even stick to things, with a rather adhesive outer layer that is equivalent to duct tape.
Cooldown: 0 Posts

Name: Anata no chikara: Kazan - Your Power: Mine
Type: Supplementary/Offensive
Cost: Low
Range: Contact
Description: Via contact, Azmot opens the gateway between his opponent's reiryoku (I believe that's the correct term?) and his own, slowly draining them of their energy over time. If they expend reiryoku while Azmot is still connected to them, the drain increases and the techniques power is slightly decreased.

description: Every inch of Azmot turns into a solid, gel based substance that glows green. Distinct features disappear and clothes are dissolved, the Embodiment of Envy being able to change appearance at will. In the true form of Envy, Azmot can swap appearances with another, becoming mixed in with the enemies and disguising an enemy as himself. Due to the nature of this form, descriptions will vary.

type: Mirror Image - Nul Power

stat upgrades: -

techniques:
Name: Ai o kysuru - Sharing Love
Type: Offensive
Cost: Low
Range: 20 yards
Description: Azmot shoots a gelatin-based mass out of his body, which quickly takes the form of someone Azmot has seen before. The gelatin flies in a straight direction for twenty yards at moderate speeds, splashing against anything it comes in contact with. If this hits a person, it slowly drains their stamina for as long as any piece of the adhesive substance stays on their body. The drain is very negligible at first; the drain is exactly the rate at which someone recovers from stamina during battle, so it prevents the natural gaining of stamina unless someone is out of battle; then, they simply regain stamina at half the speed they normally would. The gel is about as hard to get off as tape.

Name: Anata ga ken'o - You Disgust Me
Type: Supplementary
Cost: Med
Range: Contact
Description: Azmot touches someone and copies someone physical appearance, similar to Love Me, except now the one he touches gains his appearance in his released state (the ooze man). They lose the ability to talk but can still activate techniques / use weapons.
Cooldown: 4 posts

Name: Watashi wa anata no ai no subete o kysuru - I WANT ALL OF YOUR LOVE
Type: Offensive
Cost: Low
Range: 50 yards
Description: Azmot focuses and forms a gelatin based mold of his original appearance OR anyone that he has used Love Me / You Disgust me on, which moves, speaks, and can preform basic actions such as walking (not attacking). This gelatin mold is very weak, but whenever someone touches it, Azmot is not only alerted but he can use any technique that he can use in his true form while the mold meets the conditions. He is able to share senses with the molding at will.

Name: Watashi wa ima shiawasedesu - I'm Happy Now
Type: Defensive / Offensive
Cost: Very High
Range: 15 yards
Description: Azmot creates a large green, gelatin like shield within 15 yards of himself and encases a projectile based, energy-based attack / set of attacks, encasing them in the substance and absorbing the energy from those attack(s). Then, within the next 3 posts, he may release the energy in an explosion that occurs around his body and 15 yards in every direction that does double the damage of the blocked technique.

Knowledge is power. Everyone knows this. Azmot knew this, too, even when he was young. He had to.
Life was kind of a stereotypical in the beggining for Azmot, well, as stereotypical as he could imagine, based on the stories he read as a child. On the doorstep of an orphanage, abandoned by his parents... the simplicity of it actually infuriates him when he thinks back. The Proliferation of Envy, before he even earned that title, grew up very defensive in comparison to the others that grew up with him. The group of boys in his age group were mean, in the most simplistic terms, and oppressed Azmot from having any happiness, at least any that they could help. The slotted allowance they recieved as they grew older; stolen. The Pizza they had on fridays; smashed. His bed that he slept in; constantly defaced. And the Head Director didn't care - they were wards of the state to be shoved off into labor the first chance available. So, in tandem with the constant torment he was recieving, Azmot became hollowed out and filled with envy. Everything that those boys did was perfect; everyone was blind to how they treated him. Or maybe that didn't care... Maybe none of them cared. So he had to suffer through the developmental years of his existance, learning to shrug off the evil of those who would shun him and take the beatings in silence. He had bore through so many his heart had become numb.

After years of just gliding through life, Azmot finally was able to legally push off into the world, hoping to leave behind his sadness and finally become loved like the ones who would ruin him. He got a job in a resturant as a waiter, serving people to perhaps enhance their opinion of him. All day he would watch happy couple after happy couple, person, or group of friends come in and have a great time, while he lived in complete solitude. It was a miserable existance, but he believed he was happy, or at least happier than what he was in the orphanage. So he lived on, in constant adoration, almost obsession, with the other people that walked through the resturant's door. Sometimes he just wanted to be them... not the rich ones, or the crazy ones.. the normal ones are who he desired. The ones who came in sometimes with their family, or just one or two friends occasionaly. That's what he wanted. Normal.

But he knew that was out of the question as long as he was him. It always would be... as long as it was him. What if he wasn't him? What if... these questions and more echoed throughout the day to day mind of Azmot. He should just stop being him... But what did that mean? Not even Azmot fully comprehended what his heart was leading him towards. One day, after work, he noticed a rather happy looking family getting some hot dogs at a stand, their little boy behind them and out of sight. He couldn't have been more than four or five years in age; and he was so content. He didn't even have a care in the world.. not afraid of anything in the world... Azmot wanted that. While the parents had their back turned, the Envious Sin hit the boy in the head, hard, and in a descrete way, using the same motion to sweep him up over his back. Then, he walked away confidently, as if carting away his sleeping child or brother.

When he got home to his 1 room apartment, he layed the unconcious boy on his bed and studied him, waiting for the youth to wake up. When he did, the boy was scared, but Azmot was able to coerce the child into trusting him. They had a long conversation about happiness, and exactly who the boy thought he was; from what the child like and disliked, to how he like to put his clothes on. Then, Azmot made dinner, a small steak for the child that he had gotten from the resturant. He got close to the boy, using the steak knife to gentley cut up the gullible boys food... on instinct, Azmot flicked his wrist and drove the knife into the boys neck, tearing into the delicate flesh. Instantly, the boy was put into shock and fainted. Taking the knife, the long-haired man drove it upwards and around the face until it was completely attatched from the skull, taking the skin and plastering it on his own face... Azmot then began to act like the boy, going out in public to look for his family. He didn't get very far. A police officer stopped him and asked Azmot about his strange mask. He responded to the officer "My face? Don't I look happy to you?" He said, taking the corners of the face's mouth and raising them, blood spilling out of the orifices. The officer arrested him, removing the mask and bringing Azmot back into existence.

Long story short, Azmot's story was over. He was sent into the penal system and jailed, confessing to his crime out of a mixture of pride and guilt. He was executed for murder, and sent straight to the depths of hell. He resisted to the point of being sent to the third level, becoming a Sinner of Envy. Day by day, he was punished in the worst way he could have been; he was forced to relive his childhood, for all of his envy and hate. He was chained, and broken down, until... the gates. The gates opened. He could be free... he could be not himself. It was paradise. He ran as fast as he could... and broke free. He was finally free to be someone else... Anyone else.

After he returned, he decided to duck between the cracks and shadows of the world he awoke in. Azmot silently observed those around him, with an unyielding need to be them. All he wanted to do was fit in... and then, it happened. One day, he was looking in the mirror in absolute disgust, trying to find a way to like himself again... he just wanted to be happy, truly happy. was that so difficult to attain? He closed his eyes and blinked, hard, shutting away all light from his view. He thought of the boy, every detail he had observed. He concentrated so hard that Azmot, at one point, felt he was falling, but the sensatino ended ubruptly. Then, when he opened his own eyes to gaze it his disgusting form once again, he wasn't him. He was the boy. Every feature was different, and most of all... he was smiling.

Joy. Unrefuted, absolutely delightful Joy. Looking down, Azmot observed his new found body. It was tall and sleek, a semi-formal suit covering his more emberrassing parts. Right now, he was... a man. Not a very buff one, at the least, and the hairline seemed to be fading towards nothingness. Looking in the mirror, Azmot relished in the deep dishes that caught every sight underneath his eyes, and the deep mocha colour that lay outside the iris. The beautifully rounded ears, the crooked teeth; the perfection in imperfection astounded him. Around him, people chattered and buzzed, the sidewalks flustered with all of the happy people. In an alleyway that branched into a particular street stood Azmot, engulfed in someone elses essence. Behind him, someone of the same form lay dead, the blood still warm. He flexed his fingers and wiggled his toes, making sure that everything was not only real, but functioning. With a deep breath, he seamlessly slipped into an oncoming group of citizens, some on the phone and others walking in silence. Next to him, this older woman went on and on about her day, which seemed boring... and exciting. Somewhere along the line, Azmot supposed his envy had amplified after his stay in hell. Now, he was envious of a normal life, his lust for the one thing he couldn't have driving him further into madness.

He spoke quietly, the soft tone of his voice being lost amongst the bone-shaking rumble of the millions of sounds that surrounded him.

"I... want to be you all. All of you must love me... so I can love myself."

He said, feeling sweat start to collect on his forhead. Rather than wipe it off, Azmot allowed the moisture to form together and cool him off, enjoying the sensation of finally having touch. After being in the scorching heat of the third level after so long, it was nice to feel relief. It was nice to not be himself. It was... Azmot's stomach rumbled. Was he.. hungry? Did he even eat? No.. something was wrong. The time-limit was up. He stepped out of the comfort of the group, moving into a nearby store and venturing into the restroom. With haste, Azmot pushed into a stall and locked the door, vomiting almost as soon as he dipped his head above the toilet seat. The redish substance meant that the 'gig was up'; the curse of his own reality returning to Azmot. After he was finished exuding the essence of his last host, he looked at his own hands. They were now his own..

"I disgust myself..."

do not fill this out until you are given your class and level by staff.

do not fill this out until you are given your class and level by staff.

Azmot

None