Post by Nykolae Charlemagne on Sept 18, 2015 1:20:55 GMT
[attr="class","bor"]
[attr="class","ctemp"]
NYKOLAE CHARLEMAGNE
(demon)
NYKOLAE CHARLEMAGNE
(demon)
[attr="class","con"]
FULL NAME: Nykolae Charlemange
NICKNAME(S): Nyk
AGE: 1520
BIRTHPLACE: Yorkshire, England
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Chicago, Illinois
RANK/OCCUPATION:
AFFILIATION: Demons/self
FACE CLAIM: Zac Efron
LIKES
DISLIKES
MAGIK: Shifting: Nykolae inherited the ability to shift into any living creature from his mother. Often times, on the battlefield, he was called the "Hell Hound" as he took the appearance of one of his King's hunting hounds and dove into the battlefield covered in blood and gore. Canines and birds seem to be his favorite choice.
DIVINE WEAPON: N/A
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A
WEAKNESSES: Nykolae has always had a weak spot when anyone brought up his past. He's known for bundling up his past memories and locking them away. He likes to move forward.
STRENGTHS: His greatest strength is having no attachments to anything. With Freya gone, there's nothing that can be used against him to hurt him. And this has become his greatest strength.
PERSONALITY:
FATHER: Zeref Charlemagne
MOTHER: Raelynn Essex
SIBLINGS: Brinley Charlemagne
SPOUSE(S): None
OFFSPRING: Hopefully, none
OTHERS: Freya Rose
HISTORY:
ALIAS: Leto
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: Fourteen
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: Creator
FULL NAME: Nykolae Charlemange
NICKNAME(S): Nyk
AGE: 1520
BIRTHPLACE: Yorkshire, England
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Chicago, Illinois
RANK/OCCUPATION:
AFFILIATION: Demons/self
FACE CLAIM: Zac Efron
LIKES
- Being independent
- Having leverage over others
- Flying
DISLIKES
- Hates cats
- Bringing up his past
- Failure
MAGIK: Shifting: Nykolae inherited the ability to shift into any living creature from his mother. Often times, on the battlefield, he was called the "Hell Hound" as he took the appearance of one of his King's hunting hounds and dove into the battlefield covered in blood and gore. Canines and birds seem to be his favorite choice.
DIVINE WEAPON: N/A
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A
WEAKNESSES: Nykolae has always had a weak spot when anyone brought up his past. He's known for bundling up his past memories and locking them away. He likes to move forward.
STRENGTHS: His greatest strength is having no attachments to anything. With Freya gone, there's nothing that can be used against him to hurt him. And this has become his greatest strength.
PERSONALITY:
Arrogant
Egotistical
Selfish
Good natured
Sarcastic
Boastful
Headstrong
Merciless
Fearless
FATHER: Zeref Charlemagne
MOTHER: Raelynn Essex
SIBLINGS: Brinley Charlemagne
SPOUSE(S): None
OFFSPRING: Hopefully, none
OTHERS: Freya Rose
HISTORY:
BIRTHUnlike most demons, Nyk's parents had hidden themselves away in a small village in the hopes to live out peaceful lives without having to worry about the never ending war with the Angels. It was a step down from the life they could have if they'd accepted their place in the world but the demon couple was happy with their life. They lived in one of the many thatched houses set up along side a river bank. They tilled their fields every summer, hunted for food and chopped food for heat. It was a normal, peaceful, existence. His parents never actually married. They'd simply slipped away from the fighting together, as friends. When his mother became pregnant, it was sort of an embarrassment between the both of them. One wild night of heated passion and regrets in the morning. Now they'd created life when they'd never truly felt a passion for each other. But, they brought the child into the world, nonetheless, and raised him like any normal child. In the very beginning, it was easy to get help from the village's midwife but it soon became apparent that their child's rapid growth would drawn attention so they spent most of Nyk's childhood moving from village to village every few years to not bring notice to his abrupt growth.
When Nyk was five years old, which, to human eyes, would have only seemed to take a few years, he'd already gained full use of his wings and was often shifting into the animals around the village just because he could. He was a rambunctious child, constantly moving and always curious and yearning for knowledge. His parents couldn't keep him tied down. The only good thing about his constant movement was it made moving to new villages easier. He was always looking towards the future, towards the unknown.
SLAVERY"Mother!" His voice was hoarse from screaming as he was thrown into the wooden prison cart, his hands tied behind his back. Around him, the other boys were sobbing and crying out to their parents. Nyk's mother had fallen into the grass, tears streaking her face as she reached for him. Further away, his father was being pinned down by a knight, his face swollen from his beating and a bloody wound on his upper thigh. His parents, however, were not the only ones suffering. From each family, the oldest sons were taken, tied up like common prisoners and thrown into the carts like cattle. He managed to crawl to his knees and press his cheek against the wooden bars, tears leaking from his eyes as the horses pulled away, leaving behind everything he had ever known.
He didn't keep track of just how long the journey was. The horses and knights didn't stop. They weren't fed and certainly not bathed. Nyk feel in and out of consciousness, pressed up against the bars of the cart while most of the boys sobbed quietly. However, when they finally reached their destination, it wasn't exactly a place he was looking to be. It was an old castle but instead of the bustling village outside, or even inside, it was well fortified and even had knights around the perimeter. Once the carts were inside the castle walls and the gate heavily fortified once more, did the doors open and one by one, they dragged out onto the ground, stripped naked, and doused with freezing cold water. They were stood up, one by one and forced to stand shoulder to shoulder as they were all evaluated by the Knight who had brought them all there. It didn't take long for Nyk to realize that, not only did the Knights who'd captured them all not speak the same language, but they also had no qualms with killing any of them off. As they went down the line, inspecting each of them like a prized pigs for slaughter, they would randomly pull out the sick or weak and butcher them right in front of everyone. The sight didn't necessarily terrify Nyk as it probably should have. It only bolstered his desire to survive with whatever they would throw at him. The knights grew interested in his wing tattoo but such things didn't qualify him to be marked as weak or sick and they let him be.
After the inspection, they were each given a matching pair of clothes that didn't help protect the cold or damp and ushered into an old barn where they were all forced to huddle down in the straw together to stay warm. No dinner and certainly, no toilets or bathhouses. Together, with his small band of friends, they managed to make it through their first night. But their terrors were only beginning.
For the next nine years, Nyk and his friends were subjected to grueling training as the knights trained their "prisoners" into warriors. At first, the tasks had been near impossible and Nyk and his friends suffered countless whippings, beatings and sodomy. However, with demon blood running through his veins, it was easy for Nyk to catch on and gain enough strength to complete his tasks. His human friends, however, could do and Nyk kept himself back in order to help them. During the night, when they were supposed to be sleeping, he and his friends would sneak out from the barn and he'd give them extra training, minus the whip. His friends included an overeager boy named Arthur, a quiet yet determined boy named Lancelot, a roundish boy named Rowland and a fiery red head named Lief. Together, as the years went by and their wounds opened and healed, they learned the ways of a warrior. In order to "graduate" from their concentration camp, the boys were pitied against the knight that had brought them there, who, Nyk realized was the Prince, and told to fight. If they won, or even, if they showed enough tenacity, they would be given their armor and sword and would join the ranks fighting against the Romans.
At only seventeen, Nyk took up the sword and entered the fighting pit to pit himself against the Prince. Having lived with these men for years, he had picked up on the langue and could speak, almost, as fluently as they could so conversation wasn't the problem. Especially when, he entered the ring, he could hear whispers of being called a 'demon' because of his eyes. If only they knew how accurate their words were. He beat the Prince, in only a few sword strokes and the awe of the knights around them immediately gave him a reputation, and allowed him to graduate. Thanks to his training, his friends also passed their trial and, instead of being slaves, were granted contracts to serve in the King's army. A fifty year contract. But, at least, they were free from their prison.SERVITUDEWhat the Prince and his knights had created in that castle prison were warriors who eagerly sought blood. It wasn't long until they were sent onto the battlefield and easily slaughtered anyone that came near them with a smile on their face. It was an art to them, a challenge. They began to take bets; how many people they could slaughter, how many limbs they cleaved off. They were richly rewarded in gold coins and eagerly spent them in the villages in women and wine. They didn't even care about their fifty year contract. This was a life they eagerly accepted.
It wasn't long till Nyk felt it was right to tell his friends about his true heritage. He confessed to them he actually was a demon and that he had, not only the ability to fly, but the ability to shape shift. Nyk hadn't actually brought his wings out since he'd been a small boy in his mother's house and the idea of flying, now, terrified him. But the idea of being able to shape shift gave the friends a bit of fun ideas.
The next battle, they rode out like normal, armor clinking and swords at their sides as the Roman army advanced before them. Beside him, Arthur glanced over at him and frowned. "Are you sure about this, Nykolae? I mean, you'll be completely exposed. And, what if someone finds out?"
Nykolae smirked and gave his friend a mischievous smirk. "Don't worry. They won't see me coming until it's too late." At his horses feet, muscles rippling beneath mahogany fur, was a massive dog, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as the heat of the day wore on him. It was a hunting dog he'd stolen from the last village they'd been at. He planned to use it's likeness to shift.
On his other side, Lief grinned at Arthur. "Do you really doubt our boy?" he asked. "We're going to tell stories of the Hell Hound tonight over wine and all the women will be swooning over us~
The commander shouted their charge and the army surged past them, yelling out their battle cries as they went. Nykolae jumped down from his horse and Arthur beside him. He helped Nyk out of his armor, still frowning till he stood in only his shirt and pants. With one last grin at Arthur, Nykolae bent down and touched the dog on the head. Suddenly, his body was shrinking and jutting out at odd angles. Finally, after a few moments, two of the exact same dogs stood between the horses and it was clear who Nykolae was as he snarled and dove after the army, looking exactly like a Hell Hound as he dove into the fray, gutting the enemy before they even realized it and covering himself in blood and gore before moving off to the next person. The four remaining friends grinned at each other before driving their horses after him.THE ANGELHe felt dizzy, the adrenaline running through his body like liquid fire, giving him more than enough energy but, his muscles were exhausted. He was still covered in blood and the bodies of the Roman soldiers still littered the streets. He stumbled over one in particular, spilling a bit of his wine and he let out a curse as his shoulder hit the side of a house. Twenty fucking years of his contract. The idea of it was enough to send him into a celebration for the next ten years. He and his friends, alone, had slaughtered the head of the Roman army, cutting off their valuable supply route and enslaving their families. Even now, as fires ate away at the southern gate of the village, Nykolae could hear the screams and cries of the women and children as they were dragged from their homes and carted off.
He'd lost Arthur and the others in the fray as the King had rode in to join them and he'd managed to raid a tavern and steal a bottle of wine, or two- he couldn't remember-, and tried to remember which way would take him back to the main gates.
"Nykolae!"
Horses hooves had him turning around as a white horse appeared from behind him, Lancelot's face swimming before him. He grinned up at his friend and held up his bottle of wine. "We won!" he slurred happily, his back leaning against the house now to keep him from falling over.
Lancelot grinned and jumped down from his horse, pulling something down with him. "That we did, my friend!" He said cheerfully, moving something, no, someone, in front of him. He blinked his eyes, the blonde swimming into his vision. Her hands were bound behind her and a tie was wrapped around her mouth but it was her eyes that were the most expressive; filled with hate and fear. "I brought you a gift, Nyk! She's just like you! I thought I might snag her for you before the auction took her away. She might end up on the lap of our wonderful King with these looks of hers. I think, after all these years, you deserve something nice, as a thanks for helping us."
Nykolae dropped his wine bottle as he approached her, grabbing her chin in his hand as she gave a shout of rage from behind her bindings and viciously pulled out of his grasp. Nykolae grinned, catching the scent of an Angel, something he'd only ever smelled on the battlefield among the Roman ranks. "How much?" Nykolae asked, turning his attention back to Lancelot. "Come on, I at least owe you something for her."
Lancelot considered it, eyeing Nykolae's bulging gold pouch they'd received as a gift from the King for a job well done. "All of it and she can be yours. I won't say a word."
Nykolae didn't care for gold. It only bought him pleasures of wine and women and, he could have his own, free of charge, till the end of eternity. He pulled off his pouch and handed it to Lancelot. "Consider this a gift of my own gratitude."
Lancelot wasted no time jumping back onto his horse and racing away. Nykolae reached a hand up and gently stroked a hand across her cheek but she let out another angry noise and tugged her head away. Nykolae chuckled and tugged on her bound wrists to keep her walking. Where was his fucking horse when he needed it?
--
Everything came rushing into his head like a storm cloud and he groaned. Sight, sound, smell. All of it was intensified to the point it made his head pound. He shifted his weight and realized he was laying in a bed but it wasn't the smelly beds of an Inn. He opened his eyes, blurry at first, until he focused in on the thatched ceiling. Then, it all came rushing back to him; the Roman Army, the village, the slaughtering. He was still in that village. He'd merely passed out from drink. He groaned as he sat up, his head swimming, threatening to throw up his stomach's contents. That was when he heard it; the sounds of chains rattling.
He paused before turning his head to the left. In the corner of the room, a young woman was crouched in the corner, her eyes filled with loathing as she watched him. The sound of chains came from the chains bound around her ankles and he followed it's length to the bed in which he slept in. That's right... He had bought himself a slave.
"Well, aren't I lucky." he sneered at her. "A wench to tend to my every need." he swung his legs over the side of the bed, waited till the room stopped spinning before he stood up and walked over to her, crouching down in front of her.
She scooted even further away from him, a rising bruise growing on her cheek. Nykolae frowned. "Who did that to you?" Surely he wasn't abusive...
She spit on the floor at his feet. "You're fucking friends outside the door. I've tried escaping three times and their third time, they found these chains." she held her wrists up to indicate them. "I refuse to serve anyone and I certainly refuse to serve you! You killed my mother!"
Well, didn't that suck. Great first impression. He sighed and stood back up. "Believe it or not, I saved your ass. As an Angel, you're a lot like me. Be grateful. If anyone else found out what you were, you'd probably be put in a glass box and thought of as a saint for the rest of your life. They'd probably forget you were a real person and forget to feed you. You'd probably starve to death in that glass box. If you want to live in relative peace and obscurity, I suggest you do as I say without complaint. Is that good enough for you?"
Once more, she spit on the floor at his feet and Nykolae grinned. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun."MANIPULATIONThere were staying in a mid century town house in center London during a time when the stories of Frankenstein, Dracula and Jekyll and Hyde were becoming popular. A time when Jack the Ripper was the name on everyone's tongue. He opened the front door and fell upon it as he closed it, a smirk on his face as he succumbed to being drunk. He pulled off his coat and let it fall onto the floor and tossed his hat aside. "Freya!" he called into the near silent house.
Since he'd bought her in the medieval town, she'd become much more complacent in his company, ever eager. As he called her name, she ran around the corner from the living room, a grin on her face quickly falling away when she saw how drunk he was. He went to her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her up against the wall, borrowing his face into her neck as he left fiery kisses along her pale flesh. She squirmed under him, torn between giving in and still loathing the sight of him. "Nykolae..." she whined.
He pulled his face away from her but he didn't move away, keeping her pinned to the wall. "I've missed you." he told her, hand reaching up caress the side of her face.
She squirmed again, pulling her face away from his touch. "No, you're drunk." she said angrily, trying to push him off with her hands against his chest but failing miserably.
He chuckled and forcefully grabbed her chin, pulling her face back towards him. "Fighting me will only make it worse." he told her, blue eyes mischievous. "Or do I need to remind you that we're married now. In the eyes of those around us, you have to succumb to your husbands needs."
She stopped moving, remembering just why she hated him, even if her heart fluttered under his touch. She'd been forced into the wedding- though she didn't put up much of a fight- and it seemed to satisfy the community. After all, an unwed woman living with a single man was blasphemy. He'd convinced her that much but when she was expected to perform marital duties, she often times found herself finding her anger once more.
He grinned, leaning down to kiss her when the door burst open and, in a flash, Nykolae was thrown sideways off of her, crashing through a desk at the end of the hall with a snarl. Above him, a huge man was standing, white wings glowing like the moon in the semi dark hallway. His chest was bared and he wore only a pair of trousers. In his hand, glittered a large scimitar. Nykolae, from his place on the floor, wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned up at the Angel. "Cock blocked, sir. Shame on you."
The Angel raised the weapon, aiming to slice off Nyk's head and Freya moved, quicker than she probably thought she could and she pounced on the Angel, wrapping her arms around the man's neck, disorienting him. The Angel roared in anger and reached back for her, grabbing a handful of her hair and ripping her from his back. He gave her one look, frowned and tossed her aside, clearly uninterested in killing another Angel. Again, he turned towards Nykolae, blade raised when Nykolae shouted around the Angel. "Freya! Kill him!"
She moved on instinct, not sure where all of this was coming from and jumped on the Angel once more, pulling all her weight back to leave the Angel stumbling backwards to regain his balance. At the same time, she wrestled the blade from the Angel's hand and, when free, plunged the blade into the side of the Angel's neck.
He paused, a gurgling sound coming from his throat before his knees buckled and he fell forward. Freya dropped the blade and stumbled backwards in horror, blood coating her hands. Nykolae stood up from his wreckage on the floor, wiping even more blood from his chin before he turned towards her, a clouded look on his face. "Are you okay?"
The blonde angel didn't respond, simply staring at the dead Angel in horror. Nyk went to her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. The mirror behind her reflected his appearance and he couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face. He had heard rumors that if an Angel killed another Angel with a Divine Blade, they would be turned into a demon. He'd used Freya as an experiment and he was more than excited to find out his results.BONNIE & CLYDE
Already, the alarms were ringing all through the bank and Nykolae snarled angrily at the bank teller behind the desk as she shoveled handfuls of cash into the bag he held, sobbing as she did so. He reached over the counter, grabbed a handful other hair and slammed her head down onto the counter. She screamed and continued sobbing. "Did you push the alarm button?!" he snarled at her, shaking the bag in her face. "You better be filling this a little fucking faster!"
Behind him, a man grunted and he turned to see Freya landing a square blow to a man's face as he had been reaching for a pistol on his ankle. She bent down and pulled the pistol from it's holster and sneered down at the man. "Now, now. None of that. You're endangering the lives of everyone here." Nykolae grinned at the sight of her, carrying an AK and sneering down at the human man on the floor. Since her full corruption, he'd begun to see more and more Sin enter her and he couldn't be prouder of his accomplishments. Her wings had turned black and her ability with mind manipulation was becoming stronger and stronger. Though she wasn't particular to killing anyone or going that far out on the scale of evil, she had been up for breaking the law by robbing banks and convenient stores.
He turned back to the bank teller in his grip and released her, pointing his gun at her forehead. "Fill the bag quicker!" he snarled at her.
As soon as the bag was filled, the police sirens sounded outside the door and Nyk turned towards Freya, tugging on her elbow. "Come along, Bonnie, love. We need to leave!" He didn't wait to see if she was following or not. Instead, he jumped the counter, picked up his bag full of money and headed for the back emergency exit. Once out onto the street, he headed further into the alley where he stripped himself of his shirt, his black wings exploding from his back as Freya did the same, and they rose up and above the city, just out of view of the police as they screamed onto the street in front of the bank.
When they were far enough away, Nyk let out a cry of exhilaration and did a few cartwheels in the air before lazily flying low and landing beside a small farm, the cows only barely glancing up as they landed. When Freya touched down beside him, he grabbed a hold of her, threw her up against the side of the barn and kissed her. She kissed him back with much the same exhilaration, her heart pounding against his own. They dropped everything and snuck into the barn. His experiment with the Angel in London had failed. The Angel hadn't been carrying a Divine Weapon so when she had killed the Angel with the weapon, it had done nothing to corrupt her. With wings still white as snow, Freya was still, very much, an Angel. But it didn't stop him from continuing to drag her along with him.
It wasn't very romantic but there was no denying the passion between them as they fell among the hay bails, their giggles and moans of pleasure the only sounds in the barn, the money they'd stolen forgotten. A lot had changed between them; from master and slave to partners in crime, it had only been a matter of time before they were entangled in each other's arms. Of course, with coupling, also came pregnancy and it wasn't long after this that Nykolae came to find that Freya was pregnant. It was at this time, Nykolae came to find that his experiment was back on track. As her belly grew, her wings changed colors. At first, they had appeared as nothing more than a few black feathers here and there but, over time, they became freckled and then, solid black. However, tragedy was not far off.
He'd managed to purchase himself a villa estate on the Gulf Coast with the money he and Freya had been able to steal over the years. As a wealthy aristocrat, it wasn't hard to have a hand in just about everything and Nykolae made sure Freya had the best doctors. But doctors could only do so much.
He was out on the veranda with a fellow aristocrat, laughing and sharing a bottle of wine when he heard her join them.
"Nyk-Nykolae?" Her voice was wobbled, a point away from sobs.
Instantly, he turned, setting down the bottle of wine and turning his attention towards Freya. At first, he didn't notice anything different. In fact, he thought she looked quite sexy in his over sized shirt and her small baby bump but then it was the blood streaking down her thighs and staining the floor at her feet that had him jumping from his seat and cradling her into his arms as her body broke with sobs. "It's-It's gone Nyk!" She cried, her arms clinging around his neck as he carried her to the bed. "I know! I haven't felt it move in a few weeks and now all the blo-blood! It's gone, Nyk!"
He shushed her quietly as he laid her down on her bed already soaked with blood. He wiped her hair from her sweaty forehead and the other man on the veranda was already calling a doctor. "Just be still, Freya." he whispered to her, crawling onto the bed beside her. "The doctor will be able to help you."
In moments, the doctor arrived, his face paling at the sight of Freya and Nykolae already knew what the doctor thought. It was the same thought Freya had already voiced. The baby was gone. After nearly two hours, Nykolae walked back onto the veranda for fresh air, blood splattering the front of his shirt. He hated the idea of being at a loss. Had he actually been excited for a child? He'd never actually accepted that he loved Freya, using her simply because she was a convenience. But, there was no hiding the feelings of loss and anger for Freya. Out of everything, though, he'd succeeded in corrupting Freya and turning her into a demon. He looked back the way he'd come where he knew the doctor was making sure Freya was going to sleep. There would be other pregnancies, no doubt. No point lingering on what could have happened.THE HUNTER PROGRAMSeveral pregnancies came and went, all ending in failure. As they came and went, the relationship between them gradually declined. Cries turning into anger and anger back into hatred. They began to be apart much longer than normal and Nykolae once more reverted to treating Freya like the slave she originally had been. It was around this time, Nykolae was beginning to hear rumors about a secret human organization called the Hunter Program that was specialized for killing angels and demons. But no matter how many times he dug around or how many people he tortured for information, he couldn't find any information on it. Freya was already nearing her third trimester, the longest pregnancy she'd had and had spent most of it as far away from him as she could. However, it was this that also led to her disappearance. He'd always been able to find her, even spending weeks and months apart, he could always find her whenever he needed her. But this time, it was different. She was gone. She and the baby she had been carrying, was gone.PRESENT DAYNow he spends his days in luxury, doing whatever he pleases and finding ways to infiltrate the Hunter Program. Though, he's never really been interested in anything pertaining to his own species, or that of the Angels, he does find it necessary for his own survival to bring down the Program. He's spent most of his time as an animal of choice, following around suspicious humans and certain higher up Angels. Even as he does, he keeps a steady eye open for Freya, for an trace that she's still alive.
ALIAS: Leto
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: Fourteen
WHERE DID YOU FIND US: Creator