Author Topic: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.  (Read 3617 times)

Offline iKonic

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A picture of Jasper in a Red Room for photography.

Spoiler for Diary:
The Sixth of June of 1928. Midday.

My name is Jasper Wilson; I am twenty-nine of age. Born on 1878 in Jersey City, New Jersey, America. This is a handbook Iíve recently purchased on a nearby store, I am unsure of what use I will give to it, but I will probably write in miscellanea information. Not quite sure yet. I might also write valuable information about myself in it, in case it gets lost. I have graduated in literature; Iíve always loved books. Iíve graduated in it and I inspire to become a teacher or librarian. I just moved out of my parentsí house to live on my own. I kept saving everywhere I could and got myself a small amount, but enough to move out on my own. Iíve successfully purchased a small flat on the seaside of Providence, Rhode Island, and I can see the pier and the ocean from here. There are a lot of boats constantly coming in and out, mostly fishing boats, to unload fresh supplies. The room itself is alright. The wallpaper shows its age, and the floorboards creak, but apart from that, itís looks quite good.

The Seventh of June of 1928. Seventh hour in the morning.
Iíve slept very well, however, I just discovered that the plumbing may not be that exceptional. The shower doesnít have hot water running, and the toiletís plumbing is very noisy when flushed. It also shakes the bathroomís walls. Must be something in the walls or piping. Iíll set off and search for work today and see if luck brings me anything.

The Seventh of June of 1928. Three hours past Midday.
I have found a small, easy job in a Local grocery store. All Iíve to do is help Mister Barrington with the heavy supplies, sort them, clean the store and attend to some customers. Mister Barrington is an old man in his mid-sixties, and owns a mighty fine store called the ďBarringtonís GreeneryĒ. Has quite a touch to it, it does, but it sells much more than only vegetables. I am eager to work tomorrow and hopefully start saving a bunch for a small library Iíd in mind. Iíve also purchased a few books on a stand vendor for only a small bunch of dollars. Beautiful literature, indeed. The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, by Poe a few more small tśles, and gothic books. These will surely become my nightís delight, but let us hope that I manage to control my eagerness. I must not forget Iíve to get up early to help Mister Barrington.

The Eight of June of 1928. Six sharp in the morning.
Iím off to go to work, Iíve started to read Poeís narrative last night, not sure of how many hours Iíve slept.

The Eight of June of 1928. Midday
Iím making a break for lunch here at Barringtonís. Work isnít too hard because itís a small store, and thereís a lot of breaks where I can just sit down and talk to Mister Barrington.

The Eight of June of 1928. Four oíclock.
Iím leaving Barringtonís now, Mister Barrington pays me by the day and since itís already four, thereís not many folks going into the shop. Iíve headed to the bakery to buy some hot bread and then I headed home. Thereís nothing much to do so I just sat by the window watching the pier and reading. I was making sure that no bread crumbs fell onto the book. Such quality prize canít be infected!

The Eight of June of 1928. Nine in the night.
I feel quite tired today since Iíve wasted my energy on the Grocery store. Iíll go to bed early so I can rise up early as well tomorrow. Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

The Ninth of June of 1928. Six sharp in the morning.
I heard some screaming outside last night, tried to peek through the window and only saw a man with a cloak, walking past the town square and then disappearing into the dark. I wonder what that folk was doing so late at night, but it probably wasnít something cleanly. Maybe he was related to the scream? Anyway, Itís time for me to go to work.

The Ninth of June of 1928. Midday.
Iíve received a letter about an hour ago. My old man had perished from disease. I knew it was eventually going to happen as he was already bedridden when I left Jersey. It saddens me but there isn't much I can do. I'm going to his funeral next week. It takes five days from here to Jersey on the rails. I'll depart tomorrow and wait the rest of the days here. I already told Mister Barrington that i'll be leaving and I'll return. He said he gets someone to do the job while I'm gone. He also paid me half the day and gave me his condolescenses.

The Twenty First of June of 1928. Eight in the morning.
I came back to town with, god forgive me but, good news after my father's death. He had written in his will that his whole library would be given to me. These are wondrous news, even thought, it gives me a little of comfort and happiness now that he passed away. A final gift from him to me. I'm now heading back to Mister Barrington, he's expecting me.

The Twenty First of June of 1928. A quarter past four.
Just arrived at my good old flat back from work. As I passed towards the stand seller, I've noticed a new, peculiar book from H.P Lovecraft. What an unusual name, it is. The book is entitled the Call of Cthulhu, and the cover has a beautiful illustrated art of what appears to be an octopus. According to the salesman, Lovecraft is very prestigious and has a very distinguishable writing style. I am with the odds that I've heard the name before, just not sure where. I'll now sit down and read for a little while.

The Twenty First of June of 1928. Eight o'clock.
I've been reading this new book and I must say I'm impressed. The thrill, the emotions, the fear and darkness present in the book. All the horrors...- Absolutely astonishing, I am delighted. Nevertheless, it is time to put down the books and head to bed for another night's sleep. I'm going for a quick shower and afterwards I'll lay down to rest.

The Twenty First of June of 1928. A quarter past eight.
I've heard a thump while I was showering, I heard the floorboards creak as well. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Lovecraft's book was on the ground, even though I left it on the bed. However, the window and door were closed, and locked and the window leads only to a sheer drop. I've checked under the bed, inside the wardrobe out of paranoia, and to end my pitiful despair, I've found nothing.

The Twenty Second of June of 1928. Five in the morning.
I couldn't quite sleep last night. The unusual experience that happened during my shower left me paranoid and eventually lead to nightmares. Of course the book also didn't help, as I visualized the horrible fishfolk of Lovecraft's book within my mind as I slumbered. Or atleast that is how my brain visualizes it. I've been sitting here looking outside the window as I wait the clock to tick all the way to the sixth morning hour. Afterwards I will go to work.

The Twenty Second of June of 1928. A quarter past Midday.
I've received a letter stating that the books will arrive by train to Providence. They've counted two thousand books, and there are over twenty large crates filled with them. I had no idea where to store them until Mister Barrington suggested that I could leave them in his warehouse on the docks until I found a bigger place to store them. I am planning on asking the bank for a loan, ten thousand should suffice. To buy a place that caught my eye the other day. It's a ground level store with a big front window and it appears quite roomy. For five thousand I could purchase it, and with the other five, clean and repair the place and furnish it.

The Twenty Second of June of 1928. Three o'clock.
I went to the bank and proposed a loan; They've accepted it as long as I can make a profit out of the place so I could pay them back. I've agreed upon these conditions, and signed the contract. I still have time to I will purchase the place directly today and take care of the cleaning tomorrow.

The Twenty Second of June of 1928. A quarter to ten.
I've successfully acquired the place and also told Mister Barrington that I will be doing some cleaning and furnituring. He was very happy for me and I told him that he had lifetime membership within my soon-to-be-open book store. I'm almost done with Call of Cthulhu as well but I am going to sleep now, since I want to be energetic for tomorrow. I want that shop built.
Not that his life was much longer anyway.

The Twenty Third of June of 1928. Six sharp in the morning.
I did not write these words, someone was definitely inside my apartment. I've gotten out, I've asked the landlord and the rest of the tenants if someone got inside my apartment. I've been told by multiple witnesses that nobody entered the whole building after I did. Someone was either already inside, or it was my landlord. I took the chances on the landlord since he has a copy of the key. The lock wasn't damaged nor broken. Nobody could've broken in. Nothing has been stolen, nothing is out of place. Only these words scribbled in my journal, and nothing more. I don't have time for these trivial matters; I will head out and forget this prankster's doings, and I'll head to my newly acquired propriety.

The Twenty Third of June of 1928. Seven in the afternoon.
This was a very productive day. I've cleaned up the entire store, the carpenter of the town helped me with the doors and windows as well, and I bought two tall shelves, very wide as well, and I'll start to move the books tomorrow and I'll purchase some more furnitures. Perhaps a little table and some chairs. Carpets and paintings... The possibilities are endless. I counted ten pages left out of Lovecraft's book, I'll read them today before bed so I can finally be done with all this mystery around R'lyeh.

The Twenty Fourth of June of 1928. Eight in the morning.
I've overslept, but tis' was because I fell asleep in the middle of the night. I had nightmares about the fishfolk once more. I've finished Call of Cthulhu, it was an explendid read, but still I have this feeling in my gut that there is more beyond this book, it all seems so real, detailed and it all makes sense; I'm just being delusional, tis' nothing but a machination inside of my head. Nevertheless, I must continue to take care of my to-open book store.

The Twenty Fourth of June of 1928. Midday.
I've stopped to eat and decided to write something in here too. Progress within the store is being fantastic. Today, and so far, we've replaced the wallpaper and some of the floorboards. However all the floorboards were polished and treated, and the outside of the store has been painted. A huge, wooden sign has been hanged outside the store, right above the door and windows. "Wilson's Books". I plan now to order some proper furniture. Carpets, paintings and such. The books will be moved to the store this afternoon.

The Twenty Fourth of June of 1928. Half past Six.
The store is gaining shape fairly quickly, and I do believe that I will be able to open it by tomorrow morning. There's long, dark green carpets spreading between the bookshelves, paintings of landscapes, flowers and beasts on the walls. The books are on the shelves and there's tables and chairs scattered all around. The bookstand seller came to me as well, told me he wanted to retire and sell me all his books. I gladly accepted the offer and proposed to him if he wanted to work in the store from time to time, to sort the books. He refused the work, but volunteered to do it. I've nothing against it, but I feel bad not to pay him for doing such simple, yet boring work. He must have a immense passion for books.
I've also been working on a system for the shop. Everyone is welcome to read, and they may take books to read at home as well, with a fee. Books will also be for sale. And I shall keep records of who buys and who takes books. I will go home and rest now, I want to rise early tomorrow so I can go and officially open the shop.

The Twenty Fifth of June of 1928. 5 sharp in the morning.
I've gotten up at four thirty, and I'm dressed, and ready to go. I had a strange dream about a stranger in my room, staring at me, it felt as if I was awake; what a strange dream.
I've decided the schedule for the book store. From seven O'clock in the morning until 9 O'clock in the night. Today I open at six.

The Twenty Fifth of June of 1928. Midday.
The shop is a success! Lots of folks come in to read and so far I've had about ten books purchased and fifty taken away; Two hundred dollars in a day and it isn't over yet.

The Twenty Fifth of June of 1928. 9 O'clock.
It's the stranger from my dreams! How can this be? He came inside the shop, about ten minutes ago but I noticed it now that it is him. I've approached to tell him that I was going to close the shop and he politely replied that he wishes to read. I told him that I needed to close but if he came again tomorrow, I'd let him stay one hour. Time to close the shop now, I've made a total of three hundred and fifty. I honestly expected more purchases during the afternoon.

The Twenty Fifth of June of 1928. Around eleven.
I'm starting to have very vivid nightmares, it is the fishfolk and Cthulhu. This time they becon me to join them in the sunken city of R'lyeh. I do not understand what they say, but in the dream, they are in my room. They motion their hands for me to follow, and they point out of the window. From the waters, a large palace rises. R'lyeh, I presume. I wish I didn't read that damned book.

The Twenty Sixth of June of 1928. Seven O'clock in the morning.
Just opened up the shop, everything is going good and steady. Big day ahead.

The Twenty Sixth of June of 1928. Eleven O'clock.
There he was again, the stranger. He came by at the time we scheduled, extremely sharp on the clock. He came in, took off his hat and jacket. I've noticed now he has a deathly palor to his skin, mayhaps he is sick? We've engaged in conversation for a while. He told me he was a scholar and a occult researcher, and he told me he had found out about there whereabouts of an ancient sunken city nearby the waters of New Jersey. I was delighted when I heard about this; Could it be R'lyeh? Could it be true that Cthulhu and his minions were seeking me to uncover their secrets? What a wild imagination I have, but if it was true, then I would love to find out. After this tale he'd told me, he said he was also looking for a ship crew and that he needed someone with experience on old legends, scriptures and such. He'd also say he'd pay handsomely for the dangers we might face. I accepted. We are departing tomorrow at the same time, nine o'clock.

The Twenty Seventh of June of 1928. Nine O'clock.
It's time to set sail to the sea, what an amazing adventure it will be!
Oh, yes, I've opened the shop today as well, everything went well, sold too.
Blood splatter.

Today is the Seventh of June of 1938, the time is meaningless but at this precise second it is 02:11:53, the clock ticks. Too loud too it seems. It has been exactly ten years since I've opened this old, smeared aglomerate of pages. How, how foolish I was. How foolish I still am. How foolish we all are. There was no R'lyeh, it was all a plan. A web, strings. I was fool enough to fall on it and got caught by the spider. The square root of eighty one is nine. Hell has nine circles, and I do believe that currently I stand in all nine of them, with the clock tearing my soul apart on each tick. That boat. That sunken city. Lies, all of it. It was a bloodbath as my sire slaughered the small crew and feast upon them, then he displayed the corpses in a fashionable way, a scuplture. The silvery waves were now red as the moon shined upon them. Poetic, isn't it? The sad reality reflects on the poetry however. He told me what I was. I had to close my shop, depart. Nobody ever saw me again. I do still love books. Pieces of paper scribbled on by those unaware like I was. Sad irony. A cake recipe. There is only one tree. Look at the strings on all of us, can you see them? Obviously not, you are a mindless monster, stay out of this.
He abandoned me now that I know the basics. I'll feast on the crimson milk, yes. It's been a while since I've tasted a good bread. He won't come back, probably has his own strings to attend to.


The following pages are filled with unintelligible scribbling and some symbols.


Monday. 05:12:33. Room temperature is 15ļ celsius, 288.15 Kelvin. The eiffel has three hundred meters of altitude however, if there's a half a gram snail on top of it, with a spiraling brown and white shell it measures three hundred meters and two centimeters. But that's when there is no wind. Charles whispers to me every day. The date is...?
What is the date?
WHAT IS THE DATE?!
Pardon us, the date is...                             Ah. Yes, Monday. Out of...- Nineteen seventy nine.
Like I said, Charles whispers to me every night, I heard him in my head, five times this night. Maybe not to me but he summons someone. Perhaps it is the monster he seeks? I don't know. It's still far away, he says. He says on ninety five. In Palomino Creek? What is a Palomino? Why does he summon me? You cannot predict the future, can you, Charles? I'll meet you there, don't worry. I have to scratch my left foot now, in between the middle finger and the big toe. I'll scratch three times. I'll meet you soon, Charles.



Basic Information

Name: Jasper Wilson
-His true birth name, Jasper James Wilson.

Aliases: Malk, Kook, Jas, Freak, The Mad Providence Bloodsucker
-Malk, alongside with Kook is a term used to indicate Malkavians.
-Jas is short for Jasper.
-Freak is a nickname given to him by Charles due to his Malkavian nature.
-The Mad Providence Bloodsucker is a derrogatory term given to him by a certain vampire in Providence. Althought it is a title associating with some of his evil deeds in providence, Jasper secretly likes it's touch.

Age: 29
-He was twenty nine when he was embraced, in 1928.

Place of birth: New Jersey.
-Born and raised in New Jersey, lived in Providence, even after his embrace, and then moved to Red County.

Date of birth: 06/08/1878
-The sixth of August of 1878.

Nationality/Ethniticity: North American, Caucasian
-Since he was born in North America, with Caucasian roots.

Familiar Information

Parents: Emine and Joseph
-Emine and Joseph Wilson. Emine was a housewife. Joseph was a lawyer.

Siblings: No siblings
- He's the only son.

Marital Status: Widowed
-Although not mentioned in his diary, Jasper had a wife prior to the events of his embrace.

Sexual Orientation: Straight, but it doesn't really matter.
-Jasper was always heterosexual, but it doesn't really matter for the carnal pleasures of mortality fail to lure him.

Children: Probably alive somewhere
-Jasper had a single son with his dead wife. After his wife perished, the child was taken away by an instituition. Jasper was deemed not able to raise it. He is currently unaware of his child's location, althought by now, the child is presumably an Elder.

Racial Information

Race: Vampire
-Jasper was embraced, although he keeps his human facade, he's far from human.

Clan: Malkavian
Jasper has been embraced by the one who carries the Cursed blood of Malkav.

Derangements: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Schizophrenia, Multiple Personalities (Two)
When embraced, Jasper gained his permanent Derangement, split personalities. He believes that the beast inside of him is actually a monster that haunted him from the past, and can take control. When under stress, Jasper's personality triggers, and when he does not frenzy, he becomes much more cold and gains a destructive and nihilistic nature. His OCD is fruit of ages long nightime routine, with the aid of his already deranged mind. He obsesses over his appearance and over time, strives for perfection, but has an obsession over it, and feels like he cannot complete it most of the time. Jasper also sometimes also repeats routines up to three times because he believes that "A third time's charm." Schizophrenia was developed by the constant use of Dementation. His Schizophrenia makes him experience hallucinations, as well as thought disorders. It also has a minor affect on the way he moves.

Generation: 10th
-Jasper takes the tenth step in Caine's little stair; He's ancillae.

Age: 66
-Jasper's true age, from the moment he was embraced, until the modern era.

Sire: Laroux
-Jasper's sire is Laroux a french Malkavian with a knack for deception.

Mentor: Charles Bretteville
-Charles was the one who truly guided Jasper throughout his madness.

Childe(r): None
-Jasper hasn't embraced anyone.

Ghoul(s): None
-Jasper intends to ghoulify, but his obsession drives him to seek a perfect candidate.

Sect/Affiliation: Camarilla
-Thought this connection was vague, Jasper established his bond with Gloria Fatalis, deepening his relationships with the Camarilla.


Physical Information

Height: 1,79
-Jasper's height when he reached maturity. Unchanged. He sometimes appears lower when he his thinking, because sometimes he hunches his back.

Weight: 72
-Jasper's weight when he was embraced. Unchanged.

Body type: Endomorph, skinny
-Jasper was always skinny, he seeked to do activities that pleased him instead of eating, most of the times even forgetting to do so.

Eye color: Brown
-Jasper's natural eye color. Unchanged.

Skin color:Pale White
-Jasper always had a white skin, mostly because his preferred activities, such as reading, were made indoors.

Hair style: Slicked back with gel
-Jasper adopted a lot of ideologies from the eighties. His hair is one of them.

Hair color: Black
-Jasper's natural hair color. Unchanged.

Scars: Self harming marks, mostly on the arms and stomach
-Pre embrace, post wife's death.

Clothing: Half-smart.
-Faded jeans, brown suit shoes, a white shirt with a black vest over it. Sports a tie, sometimes a bowtie, always perfecly aligned and executed, and tries very, very hard to keep his clothes clean and impeccable.

Drinking habits: "What's the point?"
-Jasper knows it's pointless to drink anything but blood.

Smoking habits: "What's the point??!"
-Jasper knows it's pointless to smoke. Besides, he knows what a lighter could cause.

Supernatural awareness: Aware
-He's oviously aware of the supernatural, since he's one himself.

Distinguishing Features: His personality, his obsession with how he looks.
-The first thing one notices about Jasper is his way of being. The second thing someone notices about him is his hand sliding through his hair. The third thing is him adjusting his tie.

Vehicle: DMC Delorean [Blista Compact]
Spoiler for Vehicle:
-As a afficcionado of the 80's, Jasper couldn't possibly let this beauty escape.

Mental Informaton

Positive traits: Loyalty, Respectful, Good Advisor, Communicative, Humorous.
-Jasper is Loyal to those who prove themselves worthy of his trust.
-Jasper is also respectful to those who are above of him.
-He gives away good advice to those who he thinks that need advice.
-He's communicative and eloquent because he spent most of the time reading. He enjoys conversations.
-He's also humorous but he blames that on his insanity, because he's really depressed.



Negative traits: Dishonest, Liar, Secretive, Psycotic, Insane, Riddling, Subjective, Depressed.
-Jasper often twists scenarios to his will.
-Jasper reveals information when he feels like it's a benefit for him. Otherwise his mouth stays sealed. Or babbles.
-He is psychotic, due to his dementation.
-Again, he is insane due to his dementation.
-He sometimes speaks in riddles because he mostly sees riddles. "Why bother demistify when all the fun is demistifying?" - Is a common thought on Jasper's deluded mind.



Likes: "These questions you ask are so not pertinent."
-Updating

Dislikes:Physical conflict. That sort of Toreador who goes around swinging japanese-styled swords.
-Jasper thinks physical conflict is for the weak minded who follow their gut and emotions instead of logical thinking and problem resolving.
-Jasper also thinks that Toreadores shouldn't wave their leathers and chains or brushes and inks around. Not with Katanas on their backs.



Religion: Christian.
-Jasper was once Christian. He still believes in God. He doesn't, however, believe in redemption.

Relationships:

Agressive//Distrustful//Neutral//Trustful//Friendly

Spoiler for Examples:
Enemy example:filler
Agressive Example:filler
Neutral Example:filler
Passive Example:filler
Friendly Example:filler

Jessabelle: "After all these years we've met again. I'm ashamed of myself for letting him in control again; I'm working on it, I promise you. The next time we meet may be the last; But I am certain I will take you in my arms."

Laroux: "Althought you were selfish, you still managed to show me the ropes. You've abandoned me, but perhaps it was me who abandoned you? I've seen your fate. I know you did too."

Charles Bretteville: "I've come for you. After all this time, I hope we'll sincerely meet. As you're whispered for far too long inside my mind." ["Apparently now I'm a Set Worshipper." "Charles is much more intelligent than he appears to be; He just doesn't show it. He also has a thing with wolves. Not Garou, but the wolves inside his head. He also never fails to amaze me. Charles is more than I expected. He's teaching me quite a lot and I love to be by his side. I'm gladly helping him out with his quest.

The Monster: "I wish for the day I'll finish you. Or you'll finish me. What bothers me the most is that I cannot see past you. Mayhaps I should see past myself?" You did this to her; Why do you always come out? Die.

The Sheriff: "Polite, silent and calm, but I feel a constant shaking of his fist. There is also something in his eyes. I am unsure if it is targeted anger on uncertainty. Nevertheless, he is respectful, and respected he shall be." "What happened to this one? It's fascinating how cordial he has become; I'll have to dwelve inside his mind to see if I can find the source of this jollyness." I think he may be displeased at me. He mentioned something about another Jasper..- That's weird.

The Seneschal: "A Tremere from what I've seen, also tends to remain calm most of the time. He is polite and talkative, however, being a Tremere, I must be careful. It is not that I am agressive towards him, but despite the aura of friendlyness he remains a mystery to me. I have to see what patterns and motives surround him before starting to trust him." - "I haven't seen him for a long time."

Shayara: "Curious little Assassin, this one. She fears judgement, but basks in acceptance. I judge, once more, by the color of her skin that she is old, but I am afraid that mayhaps she'd forgotten her true self. I must dwelve into her mind, to see what drives her.""I trust her no more due to recent events; She's a vigilante and almost destroyed most of what the Camarilla is trying to accomplish." I think I'm okay with her now.

Charles, The Wyck: "What a strong, resonating aura. It is hard to contain myself from breaching into his mind, but I do enjoy observing what patterns move around him." "I see where his strenght comes from... He dealt with too much. Nobody should be able to tolerate all this pain. He saved me a few days ago and I still wonder why; He is truly a mistery." He is the reason I've found Jessabelle. Charles and I paid him back with a Salubri; Honestly, I don't think we'd find one.

Adsila Blackburn:"Claims to be a Garou but tried to strike me when my back was turned; Even though we were leaving when uninvited. We just wanted to talk about her disgraceful use of her powers in human civilization. If it wasn't for the powerful mage I'd be dead, and Charles as well, but Charles is right. Garou are nothing like the old."

Nora: "She appears to enjoy snakes." We have a chit-chat every now and then.

Corey: "He understands the basic concept of Chaos, but he talks too much about stuff he hasn't reached yet. He has potential to, but he still needs to understand something."  He was accused of treachery and he doesn't appear to like Malkavians very much.

Nagaso: "He has an obvious deep connection with Elinora; I don't think however she feels the same way. At the slightest movement of a finger, directed to Elinora, he drifts closer and closer to discomfort, and any agressivity towards her makes him fly into a rage. He also appears to be a Garou know-it-all, but I shall blame it on his clan. He tried to attack me even, with his claws, if I recall correctly, but I fled and since he hasn't shown me a fang."

Phone female (Nienna Hawke): "She does listen a lot; The little conversation we had over the phone was nice, but she smells weird."

John Frisk: He is smart for a twelve year old. I think he sees my chickens too. There's something wrong with how his eye became blinded. I think it's blinded atleast."

Leon Diamond: I don't know, he feels weird.



Nature: Manipulator
Demeanor: Patron
Goals: "That's a secret."
Fears:"You would use them against me if I told you."

Thoughts about Races:
Spoiler for Hidden:
Thoughts about Humans: The Promotheans, or Adamites as some refer to them, are nothing but a vermin crawling inside the bowels of an animal, sooner or later they will evolve to the point where it will be useless to continue, too late to save anything, they will self destruct.
Thoughts about Vampires: They are too different from each other, there is blood, a lot of blood, colorful, it flies, it manipulates, it is sold.
Thoughts about Werewolves: Gaia is the greatest prankster of all. She placed them here, a decaying world among many others and now she laughs at how idiotic they are.
Thoughts about Hybrids: Obviously some sort of sausage.
Thoughts about Mages: Mages are not what they think they are. Mages are not what others think they are. But I've seen it. They will fall. The seas and clouds of the ethereal will storm. Some may survive, others will not. It's subjective we have to wait and see.
Thoughts about Angels: The greatest has blinded their eyes, they only trust their ears, as they cannot see where the truth stands, so they obey.
Thoughts about Demons: Ah, poor bastards. The greatest pranked them as well, as they didn't want to see the blinding light, so they think they chose. Now they see. But they don't, they're in the darkness. You can't see in the darkness. Atleast they don't hear anymore. They do not obey. Silence can be maddening.
Thoughts about Ghouls: Gods play with us. Ghouls are puppets. Vampires are gods. It is an endless tree of strings and puppet masters.

Thoughts about Sects:
Spoiler for Hidden:
Camarilla: The Camarilla know things, but they don't want most to know. This is where it all happens. Power, Money, Influence... I would laugh if they fell. They will. But I will save my laughter. A blood hunt isn't what I need at the moment.
Sabbat: Their unorthodoxism is what makes everyone look away from them. The Camarilla knows what they are up to. That's why they are appointed as the bad guys. Camarilla has the numbers. Will the Sabbat have the quality?
Anarch: The anarch pity me. They are so despicable, and their ranks filled with countless idiots. Now that I think of it, who am I to judge another one as an idiot, after all?

Thoughts about Clans:
Spoiler for Hidden:
Assamite: Haqim may have slashed the black stone, but it is too late. Your secret has been revealed, you are in the shadow of a fist now. Your fate is sealed.
Brujah: Dilute a poison too many times and it starts losing potency. Dilute it too much and it will not kill. It loses it's purpose.
Followers Of Set: Set was brother to Malkav. This I know.
Gangrel: The existance of Gangrel just proves how idiotic all of this world is.
Giovanni: The Giovanni themselves don't know what they are doing. They fancy themselves masters of the dead, but as the Brujah, along their timeline a mistake happened. If that did not happen, the Giovanni wouldn't exist, but would truly master the dead. The mistake happened, there nothing we can do now. Is there?
Lasombra: They should know that what they do is far beyond their reach. I've seen the Darkness with my own eyes once. Once. They will be consumed by it.
Nosferatu: They do not like when I see them. They know what I am. They share my secrets, so why shouldn't I share theirs?
Ravnos: Blissfully unaware, but I sense something that is coming for them. Their elders felt it too.
Toreador: They have no purpose.
Tremere: Tremere, Tremere, Tremere. You've no idea how things have gone good for you. No wonder why they stick to their little groups.
Tzimisce: Perfection cannot be achieved. Not as you remain a beast. Maybe one day they will really reach perfection, but at what cost? And what after?
Ventrue: Then it all crashes down, And you break your crown And you point your finger But thereís no one around... Excuse me, was I singing again?
Caitiff: The potential in them is far too great to be overlooked.

A portrait of how Jasper visualizes the monster after using Eyes of Chaos upon himself.

B̖͉̺̳͡A̗̻̘BB̷̯̯̮L̮̘̭͖͉̮E͕̬̲̥̱̳̖͜

N̜̼a̧̭̳͚͓̦m̞̦̞͓̬̩̬e̹̘͉̠͜:͜ ҉̟̥͕M̼͍Y͍͙̲̬̣̗ͅ ̛͉N͔̹͇̰̹̹A̙͟M͈͖͓͚̬̟ͅȨ̞͚͎̩̘̭͔ ̭̘͇̰͓̩ͅI̟S̯͕̦̯̘ ̶̬̪̳̞A̖͇͈̹̤̦̺͘S̡ ̴̟̼̞ͅO̪̯̱Ḽ͉̦͖̳͘ͅD̛ ͙̬͔̙̺̝͍A̻̻S͖̭ ̛̼̤̻̞̺͉̠T͍͚͈̥̰IM̴̪̞͍̖͈E̴̫̘̬̻̜̲
Al̠̹̦̖̼i̡͚̹͚͈a̸̯̣͚͔s͇̯̝̥̫e͇͖̝͡s̯̘͉̺:̛͉ ̝͕I͔̳͔̤͇̞ ̳͉̀ÁM̼͙ ̩̤̩̫͕T̮͞H̤͓̹͚̺͚Ę̫ O͓̜̗N͠E̘͇̲̜̭̤̪͝ ͙͡Ẁ̹͍̞͖H̘̪̗O̱̫̟͉͞ ̬͇̝̤̲̰̮͘C̸͍̥̫̗R͔̘A̵̻̭̹̳͎͍W͏̹̦̟̝̹̬ͅL̞S̕ ̞̪̻͉̣̪O̲̱͎̝̲̩͞N̥͔͔̪̣͝ ͖̰̫̜̳̝͝TH͢E̠̜̙̲͝ͅ ̧W͏̣̠͍̲̠͖E̸͇ͅB͚̬̘̲̬
A̙͉͇̗̥̼͎g̤e̛͈̦̘͚:̨̠ ̩̦͉͓A̢̭̩̠S͙͙̪̪̭̙͔ ̰̲̪͖͕͔̬A̱̲͢G̹̥E͚̲̬̬L̢̠ES̩̹̻̫͇̰S ̘͇̹̥͇̤̯A̝̹S͇͎̳ ͏͈̫̬T̨̯̺͓I͏̩ḾE̤ ̵I͏͈TS̟̗͓̗͞E͏L̴F̨̪̝͇̥̙̤̞
P̴̮̳͔̻̭l̗̜͇a̞͖̲̼c̴̤̹̰̜̗̗͎e͍͖̝̠̻ ̪͈̜̬o҉̲͉͚̠̦f͚͙̲̠͚ ̭̫̹̼͢b̸i̛͍̱͚̩͖r̡̠̳͚̦͚̦̠ţ͕͓̖̟̣͈͔h̪̬͖̰:̦̪ ̮͕Ì̗ ̩̳̟̠̠͕C̸͓A̸͕̣̫̝̮͍N̤̮͠N̰̯̘̬̫͇̙O͓̳T̷ ͔̲D̦͙̣͓̺̦͠I҉͚͎̳͔E̝͔͝
D̯̙̳̮̦̼a̷ţ͈̫͓̙̙̖ͅe̗͎̯ ̸̖̦̮̘of̹͍ ̳͠b̥̦͓̦͓͟i̦͔̙r͏̥͔̰̰t̠̖͈̮̲h͉:̼̯̘͞ ̤̜̥W͔̫̫͞H̖̱͡EN̵͎ ̨͖̗̫̖͍̰̩T͙̺̟̲̠I͓̖̼̥̩M̘̣͖̰͉̜͝ͅE̵̯̹̤ ̢̳ͅA̛̤̪͓R̴̞̩͓I̢͇̘̥S͈̜͔͖̪̣E̪͍̱D̦̪͍̟̮͔͞ͅ S͙̻͙̙ͅO̶̤̦̫̳͉̺ ̮̺͝Ḑ̣͓̫Ị̧̘̖̠D͔̟͢ ̹̥͕͓͉̥͓I͈̟
Na̳̮t̜̗͙̮̖̯i̬̲̟̩͈o̷̹̣̜̭n̗̯͈̰̼̰a̷͙͚͈̼͇̘̗l͖̖̙̰̹̣̕i̹̰t̝̣̺̹̯ͅy̱̤̝͚̳͜ͅ/̝͈̪͇̺̠Eṭ̼̭̪̫̯͞ͅh̤̩͔n͙̜̦̞͚͜i̢̞ti̜citͅy̨̦:̴͉ ̛͇͔̼̬̠ͅF͏̲͔̦̲̝R̯̕O̲̺͇M̼̙͠ ̵̼̰͔̜͎T̡̘̟H̖̪͍̥̞E̵͓͉͎̼̦̲̙ D̤́EE̱̙̫̱̞ͅP̝͉͈͇͞E̞̩̩ͅͅS̶̤̺̤̼̰͙T҉͙̙̖̫̟̺ ̳̳́P̨̤I҉T̶̻S̺̲͇̟ ͈̳O͉͕̞̖̩͇͘F̨͔͈͙ ̞͓̯T̛͙͉͔H̗̝͖̝͕͓͔E̲͈͞ͅ ̸͙͉V҉͕̭͈O̟̖̞̞͡I͏͖͇̙̯̙͉̲D͉̤͖̰͘

N͏̖͕͉O͖̖ ̘̼̯ͅS̤̼U̵̹̠C̳H̪ ̱̳̠͝T̯̩̤̰̳̯H̥͉̱̺IN̶̲͎͖̬G̹ ̠̼A͎̣̤̙͎͢ͅS̛̹̠̣̮͍ ̯͍͕͓F͍͉̮̺̝̘̟͘A̶̟̹̟͚̫M̤͚͕͚͢I͎̤ĹY̲̯̤̰̮͞

P̲̗̱̕a͚̲̜͕̖̜̼r̡e̛̫̙̯ͅn̞͓̤̳̦t̥̘̗s͔̟̕:͕̟̰͞W̻̺̯H̸A̭̮̝͚͓̤T͓͞ ̹̻I̧̱S͝ ̰̺̟̘̪UN̕B̼̬͍͍̭̗͔OR̠͙̫̞̹̞N̢͍͓̼̼ ̖̝̺̯C̸̱̪̯̭A͍̟̰̠̗͟N͍ ͍̞̺͈N̬̜͎͙̣E̡̻̣̬V͕̬̖̲E̯͇̗R͈͇͞ H̡̯̼̗͚̠̲A̴͈V̩͎͉̮͓̳E̛ ̼̲̻͢P̜̣̥̹̘̜A̘R̸E͈͇͍͍̫̝͝ͅN̞͔͉T͉̬ͅS̛̭
S̛̬͉͈̤̤i̝̫b͍̺ḷ̝i͖̠̖̪̠̖͝n͎̞͈̗͝g̸̮̳͔͉͔s̼:̺̬̜̥̭͈̜O̸̝̻̼͚͍N̗͞L̟̪̻̦͚̜̹͢Y̥̫͖̖͘ ̮͕͖͉̬̼̭D̞E̸͉̠̗̩̰̭̮A̻̱̘̱͎̲ͅT̡͉̦͕ͅH̲͈̮͘ ҉Ạ̷N̳̟͈͕̮̬͈͠D̦͈̻͈̺ ͏̯͖ḐA̪̭RK͙͖̬̰͉̮Ṇ̪̝E̝͚̗͉̘̪͘ͅS͓̜͘S̢͇̦ ̟̪̗̜͔̠͖B̟͇̼È̗̦̺͉S̮̲̙̞̪͈͝ID͔̤̩̱̞E͏͙̮͇̺̞̖ ̝̤̠͚̳M͎E̢̱̳͔͉̪
M̭͚̜̮͍̖̀a͍͚̮̭̙͙̟r͖̰͖͍͈̟i̤͓ṯ̶͉͎̺ál̵ ̶͈̙St̜a͇t͉̤͓͈̥̤̥͝ư̼͓̦̗s̘̝̼̟̪̳̫:̳̜͓̦̳ ̸̤O͈N̯̬̼͈̬É̗̭̱̘̻ ̥̼Ḑ͇͈A̖̜̦̺̣͘Y͍̘͠ ̛̲A̧͎L̡̦̥͕͎̰L̥͇̳̰͉̺ͅ ̤̩͖̯̜ͅW̜̞I̳̜L̦͉̫̖̠L̛̯̹͚̺̱̬ F̭̗̯ͅA̗͖L̥̼͖̭̗̝L
S̤͙͍̥e͙x̬u͚̠̙͔̩̦͟a͇͝ͅḷ̢͖͖̩̜ ̵̘͈͈̤̲̲O̼̣̠̹̖̥̺r͓̻̩̫i̢e̬̞̩n̷͚͕̰͚̘ͅt̻̞̘̙͖͉̙at̝̰̰i̠͉̭̼̦̜ọ̙̀n͉͞:̟̩̥̫̮̫ͅ ̸̺T̳̝̟HE͈͎̪̲̮ ͇̬̜͝W̱̭E͓̦ͅB̼̗̦̣̞ CA̸͖͍͓̜̠T͉̼C̷͇̩̗͍͔̥͚H̫͖̩̜E̺͉͡S̨̼͚ ̡̟̯͕̺͔͍A̧̫͈͚͍̼̰̬L̼͙̦̪͓͇̹L̖̮͈̼̼̮ W̬̱̠̮̰I̘̗̲̟T̞̗͉̯̯͠H̵O̧̼̭͓U̘̱̭̳̞T̠̯̫̝̰̹̗͢ ̯̞͔͈R̰͇H̖̕Y̶̩̹͙̺ͅME̯͈̖͓͈ͅ ̵̩̩̗N͈͔Ó̞͍̠͉̳̱͚R͇̞̞̟͉̝ ̣̩̯̹̮͞R̯͙̥̼͖̜̭E̵̘͈̪͓A͝S̬̻O̗̭̤͓͈̝Ǹ̮̘̯͈̻̰
C̴̯̣̘̮̪͕h̴̬i̶̭̥̭l͔͉̭̠̱̯͜d̮̹̹̙̘̹͙̕r͔̬̘͔̺̥e̡̞͍̦̞n̻̜̺͉̖̭̞:̵ M̛̰̤͉͎̦Y̳̹̼̘̟̪ ̘C̞H̥͚̟̞̞̙I̛̫͍͖̖̺̞ͅL͙̙͠Ḑ͔͕̫̠̗ͅR̜̺͓̜̬ͅḚ̮̣̻͇N ͙͉̹̦K̮̬̳͇N̪̫O͎͕W̫͉̤̫͈̼̣͢ ̡̠̳͚͎͈͔T̰͓͈̺̹̭̮͝H̤̱̜͈E̷̥͉̥͓ ̪̫̺͙͈̻́Ş̰̤̰͚͚̥Ẹ̱C̼R̬͔̣̯ͅE͇̦͈͝ͅT̨̼̳̼͚̰

T͙̼͓̼́A҉͕K͙̬͎E͇̫ͅ ͉̟W̤͙͖̝̝̘͟H̺̲̯̼A̟͕̲̪͔͍T̥͙͎̺͈E͖͚̥̤͓V̡̲̺̭̭̖̼̗E̙͉̥͈ͅR̶̺̞̟̱̼ ̢͎͎̦̗̟̥C̲͝O͡N̗̞CL̵̘U͇͙̝̬S̟͔I̛̖͔̹̜͖̘Ó̤N̥͎̙͕͖̟̟S̢̤̞ ̪̬̠͝Y̨̳Ó̹̘̩U̢͚͙̭͕̫ ͈̫͜W̶̖̜͇̜̦̤͇A̳͇͍̻̪Ń̠̘͍̯̜T͇̪́
͔B̖̫̜̙U̦̯͈̼ͅṮ͇͡ ͠W̨͈͓̳̯̯E͉͙̠͖'̣͔̲͕̺̦R̴͚͇E̵̤̥ ̰͇̟̲̤͟A͉̫̥̯̱͔͟ͅL̥͔̞L̠͎̙̞̪ ̠̜͞R̤̞̗̤͍ͅA̻C̡̯͈I̛͈͈̭̻N͙̻̗G͏͖͈ ͎̻̗̩A̷̝̝͚̘͍G̪͙̟͙͍͙͞A̡̻̩̖͖̙̰I̟͎̥̰NS̵͓͈̜̥͉T ͏T̖͞I͏̹̥̣̭̖M҉̩͉̠͈E̼͕̖͔͎̘


R̩͙͝a̩c̘͈̥͙͇̱͔͜e͉̰͎̱̗̝͝:̡ ̨͓͍͍̹̝C̴̥̪̘͉̠͇A͖̯͉͠I͚͓N̰̬͇̘̮E̶̤̮͕̘ ̫̩̗W̮̦̯̭̟̣ͅÁ̳̫S̺͈̫̝̖̬ͅ ͚̳͈̼͍͢N̪̣̮̺͙̤O̺T͔H͟Ì̬̳͙͇N͚̬̜͓͠G̱ ͈̳B͓͍̣͉̬U̡̙T̘̼̳̼͠ ̸͓̼̯̥A ̪̘̭̩F͏̜O̱̙O͕̹̪̳̦̗L͍
C̶̤͕̹͙̼̰ḽ͓a͇̠n͎̪͕̙̘ͅ:҉͓̳̖̞ ̞M̵͚̮A̵͇̞̗͚̻͈͕L͢K͕̦̱̺̲̙̼A̧͔V̨͙̖.̻̰͉̙͎̻̭.͎̮̼̗̺̠͢.̶͓̲̭̣̣̻
D̩͟e͕̘̗r͏̗̭̯̳ͅá͓͙̥ǹ̳̱̬̲̞͖̮g̯͕̦͝e̱̭͚ṃ̝̩̤̺̪e͝n̷t͔s͚̘͇͈͈͍̰:͕̠̯ ̣̙̼͕͝T́H̳̭̜̻̱̫͚͡É̲̭̗̭ ̬͚̣̘̘̟̥D̜͍̣̣͚͎̪E̮̻̖̺R̺̲̩͕̕A̫̱N͇͓̱͎͙G̷͈Ẹ̜D̘̖͓̻̳͙ ҉M̬̘̘̯͇̝͠Í͎N̶̜D͜ ̝̝̗I̵S̘͔͔͔̖̝͘ ͎́N̺͉̜̫OT̢̹̻̪ ̡̩͓̲̱̼C̶͖͖̻͕ͅH̹̯̬̞̤͎A҉̟̹͉̪Ò̻͉̤̣S̤̘̲͕ ̫̮̥̺I͟Ţ̮̦͈̖ ͇̭͙͈̱̭̞͘I̷̜͉̲̝̜S̳͚͎ ̟OR̠͍̳͎D̻̻̮̜̫͕E̶̫̟̝̻R̸,̠͙ ̫I̲͚͡M͍̥̙Ṕ̘ER̜̘̺̯̞͓͇C̖E̬̫͎͎̗͝P͏̮͓̟̻̰̗ͅT̶͚̖͉̼Ì͎B̮͚̪̫̪̺̳͠L̦̣̮̹̹E̯̦̹͉̲
G̥͜e̴n̖͍̪̜e̛̤̘̠r̢͖̻͈̹at̫̰̥̖i̟̤̻̦͚o̴̜͉̜̮͖n̢͓̮̗:̴͖͙̳̥̮̹̺I̶̹̝ͅT͖̖͙ ͚͓͓M̖̳̹A͇̳͇͓̮̤̦T̟̮̼͎͕̲͞T̟͡ͅE̡̹̤̟̥̬R̠̬͎͟S ̛̫̭̬͉̬̲̣N̜O̼̯̥͔͘T̖͓ ̫̮H̲͟ͅO̲̣͉͖W͟ ̲̟͖͙̖̮͢O̱L̴͎̭̳D̡̯̫͈͉ ͚̩̮̬͝O̲̹͚̙̖̤̪N̯̥͓̠͖ͅḚ̟̟͝ ̭͙̠̪I̖͝S̞̠̥
A̘̦̬̣̪̙͠g͇͇ḛ̼͉̘̕ͅ:̨̞͎̬͚̜̠ ̲͖̯͎̰̲NO͏͓̳͇̦̩̘̮R͡ ̩̼̪̺̲W̩̜͉̺͇̼̥H̩E͓͕͉R̮̼̮̙̣ͅE͔̗̖̭͔̪̫͠ ̰̦̜͈̲͍H̲̤̺̖̺ͅE͓̮̻ ̞̦̼͕̯̱̰H̖̰̞͓͇̟AI̹̖L̢S͎̲͔̹̺̙͚͟ ̛̣̼̲͔͖̬F͈̭͔̹̭R̮͡O͏̰̩͎͇̝ͅM̴͇͔̟̼
S̵̱̰̝̪̟̠̪i͏̥͖r̪e̷̘͙:̯̻͚ ͙̝͞ͅN҉̺̞̻̮͍̰̳ǪR̠͈͎̰̯͉ ̙͔̭͙Ẃ͖̥͈͓̦̪̬HO̘̪̜̜̞̣̞ ̩̪̯͖̲̬H̲̪̮̻͚̮͈͢A̞̦ST͈̦͎̰̝͟ ҉̼̠̲T͘U̢̪̲͉͓̟̹R͇͔N̛̫͔E̜̘̥̱D͉̫̯̬͙͢ ̯H̙͚͎̪͇I̟̗͔͙ͅṂ̢̹
M̸̫̦̲̹͚e͎̣̲̼̼n͝t̫̥̜̮͝or̨̬̖̭̱̱̘:̢͎I̥̥̘̖̘̱T̻̤̦̮̤̱͘ ͎̰̥̮̱I̳͎S̳͍̗̦̕ͅ ͎̤F̶̳̮̖͍͚̻U̗̲͙͈̖̺̦T̷̤̼̭͙̜I̝͖̘̠͙͚͇L̠̪̥͙͜E͕̖͖͚̫͘ ͕̪I͞N͈͖̱͕ ͎̘T̰H͓͚̫́Ę̭̳̱ ̖͡E̸̬͙̲͎̱̺̰ND̵
C̨͇̗͔͎͙h̗̭̮́įl̰d͔͖͚͍͚͈̀e̢̩(̯̳͍̤͈̗̩͘r̙̲͖̲̝͓͞):̡ ̘̩͡T̗͚̯͓̫̲̠͞HÈ͉R͜E̠̝ ̺̳̹͉͔̳̠I̛̙̼̭̦̟̹̪S̻̬̭̬͜ͅ ̜̭̥̝̪Ṉ͞Ò̼̯ ̵̝ͅE͚͍͕̕Ș̣͉͍̣C̤̙͜A̮̙̯P̛̻͚̺ͅḘ̮̞̻ͅ
G̵h͡o͙͇̠ͅu̵̯l̦̜̺̠̺̩(̡͇̳͓̥s̰)̙̪̠̥̀:̖̗̱̯̜̳͜ ̵̭W̭͍H͓͙̱́Y҉̺̪̘͇̩̤ ̩̀D̛̗͎͖̪̰̝̗O͘ ̻̱̲͚̳̜T҉̘̮͉̙̳ḤE̮Y̮͕̙̹ͅ B̥̮̦O͙̼̰͍͢T̙̲̟̞͇̫̯H̱̻͖̼̮̻E̙͡R̼ ̦̬̝̯̻̠ͅFI̵̳͙G͈̳̥̳H̟T̵̩͎̞̬I̼͎͇͉̹̤N͇G̛̳̺̬ͅ
S̩̩̠̀ḙ͉̤̯̟c͉͖̗̗̖t̩̫͈̤̠̣̻/̻͇͙̱̳͇Ạ̣̦͈̺̤̮f͎͡fi̥̩̭̲̤l̰̲͇͉͎i̧̹͙͕͖̩̝a͉̤̦͝t̳̮̞̟ͅi̸͙̮͇̤o̵̖n͓͟:̗̲̣̬̝͓̣ T̩̯̗̰͎ͅH̻E͉̗̪̼̞͡Y҉̩ ̳̺̜̖͍̜ͅT̷̰͖̦̜͔R̢̞͍̳Y̜͉ ̟̱T͇̝͍̬O̻̤ ̟͕͚̲S̫͓̙ͅE̮̱͖̩PA͓͙̟̱Ṛ̦͕͇̼̖͟Á̩̦̭̟̮͕͎T͚͟ͅE͉̹̝̫͈̳̕ ̴̮̩̻̞̖̣T̖̖̤͍͈H̙͖̮̱̳E̦̻͉M̪͎̙̬̯͞Ș̹͈̀E̡͎̗͍L͕͔͟V̙̲̭̼̤͠E̼S ̫̼͉͚́O̡̩̮̣̰̭͙̣N͚̟L̀Y̨͍̬͚͉̬ ͉TO̵͖̘͉̥ ͈̘͢E̖Ṉ̬D̩ ̱̼̳̟͚̙U̠̙͜P̘̭̬ ̳̗̰͈͕I̤͚̕N͎̯̬̬̬̖ ͇͓͇̼̮̰̬TH͎͈̭̭̻͓ͅE̲̲̦̝̺̲͠ͅ ͎̺̗̻̝͓͇S̤A̶̼̦̤̞M͘E̖̥̹͕͉̲ Ṕ̩̭̗̳̰L͍̰̗͔͎̙ͅA̢̻͙̝͚͙̙C͔Ę̖̰̭̞̺

I̮̗͍ ̵̞̜J̱̭͖͍̬U͕̻̮̭S̷̫̯͎̳T͚̱̰ ͓N͡EEḐ̰͚̩̳ ͍̤͕͕͍Ṱ͉̘̗͙Ò ̗F̫I̶̼̻͓̯̝Ṇ̙̘̭͔̀Ḓ̪͚͖̭̭͇͞ ̤͍͎̮́
A̩ ͙̦̥WA͔͖̞Y͙ͅ ͏͇̯T̶O̭ ͏̻Ş̣̲T̷̖̱E͓̪̺̝̖̤P ̩̗̞͇̖̪̀I҉̝N͎̱͎̜̯̺̞T̪̟̣O͎̤̦̝͟ ͉̱̗̪
T͚̯H̷̩̗͇̠̘͉̲IS̵̥͓̟̰̤ͅ ̧͕̪̙W̗ÒR̹͜ͅL̗̩̟̲̙̫Ḓ̦̗͚͜


T͇̺̻H̨̼̠̩̤E̫̥̯̼R͎̮̙̤̻̰E͉͉ ̮͕̝̙̯̟͘Ḁ̱̼̣͡R̞͙̼̹͜E͔̳̹͓̻ ̡̪͓͎Q̥̫̫̰̲̱U̢̮̼͚̘͍̭E͏͍̗ͅS̛̩̲̻̯͚̰͍T̻͍̜̻͖͜I͇̳̹O̞̪͖̘͉̣̯N̯̮͖̳̱S̬͖͜
Ţ̙̲̻O͉̹̤̬̙̰ ̨͔͙B̟̙̩͓͡ͅE͇ ̭̦A̦̦͎S̙̠͍̝̱K̹̼̙E̳̫̦̠̠͉̥D̴̜͓̮͓̟
A̝̜̼͡N̶̤̪̩̻̰͈S̶WÉ͔̞̱̱͙R̞͖̜͘S͏̥͔̖̥ͅ ̙̺̙̳͉T̩̠̝O͍̳͉ ̴̥̪̩̤͇B͉̹E̗̼͇
G̝͚͡I̦͇̺͓͖̥ͅV̳̥E͕N͏̖͉,̠͕̯͟ ͚͓̥̝̤M̛̤͔̮͇Y̫̮̗̖̣̖̜ ̴C̻̝H̢͍̖̼̱̻I͇̣L̢ͅD͓̥͟R̩̘͔͔͉͚E͚͕̭̗N̷͖̲̫̦ͅ
K͍̻̱̼̪͖̀ͅN̢͙̘̪͍ͅO͏̫̝W͈̳̕,̱͉̣̟̺̖ ̷̺̝̖̪̭̭͚Ṭ͔Ḥ̨̞E̪͓͍͙͎̳Y̠̯̝̗͚͓
K̗̤̰̺̤̰N̰͍O̵W̟̞͎̯͟ ̸̠̹̼̦̳B̞U̩̠̜͖͙̻T͇̜̰̭̯̝͚ ̖͉̹͔͓͠T͕Ḫ͓̩̩͎͔͘E̵͈̙͓͈̹̳͍ ̡̱̳̺I͕̖͎̯̥M̶̩̫͚̠P͍̀U̢̝̭̪R̢̜̗̗̞͖E҉ ̧̜̜O҉̝̟̙͔F̷̩̞̺̻ ͍̲͓̳͍̙͘
B̴͍Ļ̯̰̹O̫̺O̷̺̮̱̹̝D̴̺̮
P͇͍͓R̡Ḙ̡̖S̹U҉̭̲̟͔ME͏͕̩ ́T͕̞̘͖̱̪H͘E̢̳̳͔͈M ҉͓̗̖̬À̤̣̰̲͇̥Ṣ̣̠̼̼͕ ̫̜̻̺̭
͎̻͔̮I͕̮̩̭̻͚͕N͎͕̥͍̭̮̖S̶̭̩̞̭A̤̗͚̝͎N͈͘E̖͚̠̥̺͝ ̛̟̗̩̻Ú̫̟̘̖̺̫̱N̛̤̪BÈ̩͎̼KN͔̹̝̼͉̖O̶͍̠̭W̵̮̤̞͔ͅI̫̹̹N̢͇̰G̪͓͔̟ ̲W̩̪̗͉̠̥H͇͖͉̖̝A̢͙̮T̶͈̲̭̳͕̰
D̙̻̫̱̬̜I̜̩̤̼ͅŃ̥̩̗ͅŞ̖̗͔ͅA͔̪NI̘̘̝͍͈͘T̖̤̗Y̩̮̭̗ ͔̲I̵S̤̥̬̯
L̲̮͉͖O͇͇̲̖̦̘O̼̥̜̳͎̥̮K̗̰̪͉̠̫͙͜ ̙͍̺́ͅA̠̲̟̞͍T͇̯̰͓͕ ̻̻̙͎̯T̺̻̥̦̗̠H̡͈̰͈̲Ẹ͚͡ ̝̰̥F̩ǪO͍̼̬ͅL̛̘̱̩̱
O̖̥͖̖̗B̻̞̖̬͙͝SĘR̛̜V̱̯̺͍͠E͉͇͈̻̖̯ͅ A̜̯͚S̝͉̞̫͉̗̟ ̜̠̗͎̝͓͜H̨̖E͉̹ ̖̭̪̤̩S̳̺̣̯̰͈Ṷ͎Ŗ͖͖P͔̰̮̥̤͚A̩̼̰͓̯͇Ş̪̼S̛̩̘E͏S̙
E̻̰͓̫͇V̰͈̜̩̫̩͞È̥͕̤R̩̜̗̩̞͎ͅYO̹͍N͚͇E̮͡ ͉̰̳̙A͚̪͙̺͇͜R͈̫̬͚͓ͅO̸̩U͖̫̞̝̠N͉̤D̼̗̙̳͔͠ ̻̘͕̫̱̳H̗̤̗̻I̧̻M̴̳͎ ͖̗͚͎͖̩Ḅ̝E̘̩͝ ̯̼͉̫̦͇B͉̳̞͚E̵̫̳̥̬C̷̬̱̗̺͔̲ͅO͈̙̳̰̰͈M̦̠͝ͅE̙͇̦̯͖͘S̲͕̼ͅ F̶̦͈͓͎R̭̫ͅE̮̝̹̘̼Ȩ͎ͅ,̹ ̥͔̥̯̬͖ͅE͇̮͜N̡̹̠̙̯̼L̨̙̰͍̩I͚̣͙̪̞̪͡G̫͉͟H̺͉̤͔T̝̙͔E͔̭N̶̻̖̗̯E̲̣̹̠̥̬̭D͏̭̥͖̙̝,̷̲ ͔͡EͅN͇C̖̥̯̳͜L̖O̠̦S̖̞Ṳ̦R̶̞̦̥̪̭̹̗ED̪̖͔͕͍̳,̯ ̴̖̬̗̙͓̺D̥͖̹R̙̪̱Ì͕͓͓̣͖F̨̭̮̮̬̬T̤I͇ͅͅN̼̺̖͔G̜̞̞̖ ̦̜I̡̳̱̮̘N ̠͎͙͓Ṱ͕̯͠H̤̙̩̦̞̺̟͠E̸ ͍̥̲̯̪DÀ̱̟̱̖̺̝

T͉H̦͢E̼̭̝͓͕̯ ҉̮̖̥̝͔B͓̥̰̻̯R̠̻̙̩͇̫ͅẠ̲̝̬̀I̳͙N̙̼̦

P̣͔̯̞o̸s҉i͕̮̰t̼͔͍̺͡ͅi̛̞͔̞v̲̬̝e t̹̩̖̞̰̗ra̸͕̟̗̙i̪̰t̶̺̥͉͈s̗̙̘:̥̺I̷̩̳̯͎̜̝̞S͝ ͍͎͉̳͉̳͇H͔͔U͙̯͚̼͈̺̝MA͚̳̫̯̮̦̬N̬̼̙ ̬M͕͎̻̪͉A̹̫CH̢̱̲͙͎I͏͕̞N̲A̖̠T̨̬̱̱̭I̟̯O͚͈͇N̤̱͙͎
Ṇ̮̦͠e͝g̙̟̤͖̤̹͖a̰̳̼̠t͠i͡v̴̘e̤ ̫͉̹̥̝̟͎t̹̞̺̖͕r̥̞̳̜̻̖ͅą͔̻̖̖̺̹͕i̶͖t̮͖̲̼s̸:̷̣̺I̢̝T̨̠͖͈̯̪ ͍̜͕I̝̺̳̤̤̥ͅS̵̳ ̘̠A̭̜͎̣͢ ̵̥̻̫͕̜̠T̯OO̮̣̠͚̘̬̭͡Ĺ .ͅ
A̜̺̮͠ ̻̰̖̹̳̣̮́P̗͓̺̼̫̲̙U͎R̲͈̩̱̙͙̳PO͢S̱E̸ ̷͓̪̥I҉̼N̗̠̲ ̢̦̘̦S͎̪O̸̹̙͖̖͕M̧̖̪͇̱̺̺E̺͔͖ ̛̪͙̙͙C̖̟̤̯Ḁ̵̦̮̱SE̘̲̪̪̯S͕͕
D͙̝̱̠͝i͈s͙͍̣̕l͓͓̠̯i̠̣̣̬̼̜͉͢Ẉ͈͎ͅE̛̥̫ ͕͢A̪̗̟̦̟R͏̻̰̫̙̝̯E͞ ҉̪̩̠N̠̫͓O͕͚̫̳̝͕̬T̰̤̙̜̩͘ ̖̙́A҉̙̮̠̲̦͇ ͔̪͇͓̀D̘͓̼̮̠̞̝I͜S͖̬E͏̼͇̲̺̙͔A͍̝͈̰͍͡S̮E̸̺̙
R̪̱̼̥̹͙̞el͉̲̺͔͇͚̹i̩̦̱̱̮͟g͉͓̥͇͕͍ͅi͖͈̥̜͝o̪̳̙̗n͉̝̣͍W̱͇̜̦͜E̹̤͍̝̥͇ͅ ̶̬̳̯̬A̸̼R̙̩̮̜ͅE ̧̺̜̝͇̩̙Ǹ͇͓͓Ó͚̰̞͉T҉̥ T̳̞̙͞H͕̺̀E̛̬̟ ̖͙̝̖̪͈̗C̞̼U͏̠̬̟̻R҉͔E̥͍


E̘̭̦͉̖̹̼V̪̗E̫͚̮̘̳̳̦̕R̸̻̩̜Y̝̳̟͓̕Ó̖̬͇͕̼ŃE̻̦ ͖̬I͇̘̦̞S҉̪ ҉͇A̞̣͙̪͈͘N̨̪̹̜ ̻̙̗̤̮̳E̙̼N̯̙̦̤̻͕E̶͓͚̯M̭͇Y̕

Nature:]N̤͈̟͜A͉͙̫̻͉T͍U̙̘̲̜̜͈̖R͓̘̺
[̛̻̟̱c̸o̷͖͍l̪̜͎̮̟̬͉or=͘r̨e̟ḏ̣̺̙͡]̪̖̲̙D͖̺̖̺̟̜́e̗͙̗͠m͏̰̟̼̫͙ͅe̹̮̝͞a̱̤͔͝no̲̖̭̯r̨͍͕̜̩̳̗:͕D̤̱̥̲͉̟͉E̡E̩̝̲̟͇͖͘EM̭̗̭̹̀ͅM͘M̜͈̠͉͈M͕̠M̖̯̪̲̲̖M͏̤̙M͘3̱̲̣̺͖̼͇͡3̬̺͈̹̥̪3͈͇̺̤̣̱̘1̱͈̤2̬̝͍̩̦ͅ5̖7̠͟ͅ1̙̬̥̦̟2͟[̤̼̥̳̺/̤̜̘ć͎̩̪o͇̺̬͘l̷̯̫̠͎o̷r̹̘]̟͖
Ģ̲͍̯̲͍͓̬o̜̟̫̬̩͢ͅa͓̞̞l͘s͙̭̱̟̼̗̰͞:̗̥̭̪̘̦E̲̼̰̘̪̤̝N̡̼͕̦̜̣ͅS͕̰͍͝L͕̭͙̦͖Á̰̻̦V͔E͚̻̦͔
[̣͓c̹̖̻̩͉̞̀r̵̠̯͚̬͉̙è̼͈̖͓̣̣d͏̖]̲F̯͖̜̤e͇̪̦͕͈͈a͞r̯͚͖͝s͏̱̥̠:͍̩͕E̳͓͉V͚̘̠̙̲̪ͅ1̠̫̤̲̭2͕̲̹̝͢4̻̰̹̥̦H̯̗͙̣E͍͈̩͔R͖̦̺͕̱͚Y̜͇̥͚̬͓͇THIN҉̦̠͍͎̲̱G̨[̝/͇͕͔̩̜c͚͎͓̬͕͔͉o̦͎̱͖l͏̖̹

͉̗̞͕̣̞͎1͈̯2̡̭͓̰̥̦8̨͓̜93̝͇47̡̥̝͚̝͈1̨̻̦̞͕̥9̫̲͓͇2̝̹̖̞͇͖̻8̮4H͏̳̼̥͎3͏9̸̘͙͉͍̞U̱̫͈͇̬̺̬R҉̱̹̯̝F̭͎̹͍̼H͖̲̮Q̪͍͠R̜̣̥̳͉̼͈G̫͇̞̟̗̪͞T͔͡3
̲̹͚̳̗̮4̩͔͖̪T̯̟͙
̠̮̯2͖̳4̸͉̦̜5̼H̪̦̣Y͍͎
҉̱T̮̫̲͎͙̣̰͝Y̻2҉Y̷̥͙͙̺̭͚̙2͍̭0͓̗̩̫͟8̷͔̠̘9̹3̧̦͇4H̠̖̭̩͉T̙̪̝̮̲9̣̯͍͔͇̯3̦̺̯H̰̝4̰̬̞͓͇̘T̞̫͇́8̜̜̹̗̖͝0͔̗͍͇̪͔͚2͖̣͔͝U̡͖̹̝4̫̣̹͕5͚̞̠͈G͉͖͓̺͡T̮̯̙̹͙
̸1̳̯̼̹̙̼̘3͏̼4̯̞̝̮9͏̠̟̟̩̜H͈ͅ2̛̭̦̣1̜̖͖0͖͚̼̼̲͚8̗̱̺͕̦ͅG̸͎̟͉̜H̜̳̫̹̣2̡͚͍̙̣̰̥̖0̛̪̥̞5̞́G̹͈͙T̢
͠2̤1̰̞̲̜̜ͅ3̴͖̪̘̘̞̭G̮̙̻͢ͅ8͍̣͚̩̼H2̣̤̳1̟ͅ08̫̱̦̮͇̗̗Ǵ̞̠̪̟̮̙ͅT̟̪͞2͔͇̪͇͇0̭͈̤̬͢1͢8͍̜̹̬͢4̟̝̱̺̯̕5͇̫͕
̡1̹͔̣2̨̫̟͙̙̮͖̖G͓͎͓̦͓̻̥͡Ţ8͓̹̬͟H̞9̝̫̬͖̣͖͉48ÙR̸͔̫̰͔T̻͙̣̰̬̠H͟2̸͕̝̝͚͇1̝͚3̟̯̭͇͚9͎̱̰̯̻̘I̸͍̮̯͙̖͈͉U̷͔̼͕̦̦̘͚Ẉ̢R̥̳͚̲̟͖̮F҉͈͈̠͎D̷̼̣̥͚Q̵̝̫̘̖̻͈͍8̷9͕̠͙͘UE̻̫̤̱̲̳̝2̲͙͍4̖̯̘͍̰̭͖T̬͖̳̲̥̥5̞̭̙͖̬̘G̞
͕̯̳͇̥̀9̺̩̦2̬̳3̤͚̝̱8̧̯̣E̞͕̬̲4̹̼͘Ḫ̦͙R̥̼̩̳͕̠F̡̯̫T̝̘̗̲͇͝2̜̥̜0̡̱8̻̻GT0҉̼͎̪̞2͕̟͢8̰̻̩͔͟ͅ9̨Ṳ͘ͅH҉̱͍̟̖̞̭5̲G͉̜T͍̺̪̣
͎̳̺̺͕S̪͔̩͕̮ͅͅÁ͖̖̳̜̝̥V̹E͎̤͔̠̦̟͟ ͓̬̀MȨ̳͇ ̸̲S͏̯͓̠̰̼͖A̡͕V̪̤̭̙̥͕͝ͅE̬̺̠̳̤̪ ̩M̬̜̩̘͔͈̺É͈͚̪̦̫̫ ̢̩͈͕̱̘S̹̗A̸V̰̟̹E̗ ̼̣̹͈̼M͚̗͎̜͡Ḛ̵̘ ̦͍͍̭̖S̱͎̰̤̫A̸̭̟͎̮̪V̩͕̟E̢̤͓̖͉̫ ͔̤̲̟M͉͔E͔̣͝ ̼S͈͔͕AV̟̟̫͇̯́E ̕ME̮̬͇͚͙̞͢
̷̹̟̰3̲͠9̝̤̱̩͉͎4̟̬͍̪͚̀8T͇̣̪̤͜H̴̱̣͖͓̙0̬̪̬̹͈͍̦8̧͙2̙̭̘͜7̤͢4̠͔5͍̘͎H̷G͕̘̣̜̲T̶͈̝̝͇͖͉1̴
̖̦̖3̻̟̺̲5̹̯͉̮̩̰̖̕4̰́G͖͝
̟1̥̩̝
̯̗̦̗͚̩3̺̬̤̗5͙̙̳̪͡
̸̦͖Y̦͈͎͉̹H͈͙̟́2҉̠̯͎1̫̩͈̝͓͉͝4̪̀5͚̭̩̺͕ͅH̳͍͍͍͉͎́ͅY̮̘͇̖͔̲
͘W̟̻̬͍̪2̰
H̵̰̩͚̹Y̠̹W2̪͔͓̬̟H̗Y̭͔̙̙͈͕̭͡

It's over.



« Last Edit: July 13, 2016, 09:08:57 PM by iKonic »

!nicehack

Offline Dielan

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #1 on: May 25, 2016, 01:26:35 PM »
oh my

Offline Bogdan.

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #2 on: May 25, 2016, 01:29:15 PM »
Quote
Thoughts about Mages: Mages are not what they think they are. Mages are not what others think they are. But I've seen it. They will fall. The seas and clouds of the ethereal will storm. Some may survive, others will not. It's subjective we have to wait and see.

Shhhh.

Offline iKonic

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #3 on: May 25, 2016, 01:53:09 PM »
Quote
Thoughts about Mages: Mages are not what they think they are. Mages are not what others think they are. But I've seen it. They will fall. The seas and clouds of the ethereal will storm. Some may survive, others will not. It's subjective we have to wait and see.

Shhhh.

<3

!nicehack

Offline Lurker

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #4 on: May 25, 2016, 02:26:25 PM »
Char doesn't really fit with the tribe.

Offline iKonic

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #5 on: May 25, 2016, 02:38:23 PM »
Char doesn't really fit with the tribe.
I was planning on creating a rapper lasombra, but I changed my mind so I made this Euthanatoi, It does fit, sorry to put it up to you.

!nicehack

Offline Lurker

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #6 on: May 25, 2016, 02:50:46 PM »
Char doesn't really fit with the tribe.
I was planning on creating a rapper lasombra, but I changed my mind so I made this Euthanatoi, It does fit, sorry to put it up to you.
Dude, I know much more lore than you, it doesn't fit, don't act smart around me, okay? If I tell you its not Uktena material, its not Uktena material. Do you even know who I am? Get a life, bro.

Offline iKonic

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #7 on: May 25, 2016, 03:03:37 PM »
Char doesn't really fit with the tribe.
I was planning on creating a rapper lasombra, but I changed my mind so I made this Euthanatoi, It does fit, sorry to put it up to you.
Dude, I know much more lore than you, it doesn't fit, don't act smart around me, okay? If I tell you its not Uktena material, its not Uktena material. Do you even know who I am? Get a life, bro.
Ahah reported this is dark ages
« Last Edit: May 25, 2016, 03:20:23 PM by iKonic »

!nicehack

Apollo

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #8 on: May 25, 2016, 08:12:42 PM »
Y̵̦͇̜̗̠̖͔̘ͣ͑̍̾ͩͧ͐̍̽ͮ͘ͅŐ̵̧͉̳͎̼ͥ̉̏̀ͩ̀͛̚Ư̷̷͚̻̞̮̹̅̓ͬͦͧͩ͆̎ͥͨ̕ ̸͆̀̋͂͝͏̥̙͔͍̺̯̙̮̫̣̬͉̜̤̝S̵̡̲̗̰̘̬̝̱ͦ̈́̂͒̎̈͂ͬ͆̿ͭ̾͟U̶͉̮͖̭̺̟̘̔ͭ̃ͨ̐̌͒̊ͯ͘͢͝C̷̵̨͍͍̤͚̼̗̳̬͈͇̯͙̞̭̝̫̿̂͊̌͟K̃ͮ́̉ͣ̇͛̐̏̋̀̋̂͝͏͓̫͈͔̘̹̟̞̻̫̜̝͉̥̙̀͠ ̴̧̢̀̿ͦ̀͒͡͏̺̭̮̜̩̭͙̱̪͚̘S̷̨̯̙͙̳̭̳̳̙̟̄ͮͨ̍ͮ̒͊́̇̈́͆ͥ̒̔̅̇̎̐̕O̵̵̖̠̗̭̬͌ͥͯ̈́́ͮͭ̆ͭ͂̉̒ͬ̊ͣͦ̽͂ ̶́͌̏́̚͏̧̞̤̦̙̜̙̺Ṁ̨̛͙͎̼̞̬̥̰̼̠̬̺̍̽̊͑̐͋̽̒͢U̸̷̢̺̬̖̱̼̦̻̹͕̲̝̟͉̻̜̬̓̈͊͛̆̓ͣ͛̏̾͒̑͗̕͢C̸̨̦̤̞̦̘̤ͤͥ͊͊̀ͯͪͧͨͬͯ̂͋ͯ͂̂͠ͅH̶̸̵̺͇̮̲̞̱̳̪̝̗͚̻̜͖͎̃͌̿͂ͪ̄̓̾̏̾̃̾̅ͯͪͣ̄̄́
̌̒ͫ̀̊͟҉̩̞͚͍͍H̶̴͉͚̘̖̻̤̖̫͚̾̆̒̓ͤ̉̈́͛ͤ̆ͤ̀͌ͯͫ̒ͯ̃̀̚͢͝O͋ͪ͂̚͟͡҉̪͍̥̩̹̟ͅL̆̃̽̂͑͂̉̎͌ͥͥ̆ͨ̂̚͠҉̫̜̞͔̝͇͈̹͖̼͓̤̲͉̝͇̹͞͝Ỳ̢̱̟̪̪͙̪̻͍͖̦̺̋̅ͬ̑̽̎͆̈͢͞ ̛̬͇̠͍̤͌̐ͦͧ̐͂̊̑͐̋͑͛ͯͪ̌̏ͥ͟͜͞S̶̵̶̡̝̤̪̥̮͇͕͇͇͕͚̗͔̟ͯ͛ͧ̔̉͛͝H̡̦͔̝̠̰͍͗͆͗͆̈́͢͞I̸̴̺͍̭͓̞̫̘̖͍̺̳͇͕̹̠̲̅͆͐̆͛ͦ̊͢͢͝Ţ̣͎̲̞͓̫͖̝̩͈̱͕̫͂ͪͧ̆̀ͯ͝ͅͅ ̴̨̢͇͚͎̤̟̠̫̳̬̘̙͎͚̔͂͆̋ͭ̽̐̎͆ͮ͊̋͊ͧͤ̿̚͞
͈̠̫̈͌ͪ͐ͦ̅̉́͑̔̂̇̀͘Ḳ̵̢̻͕̲̙̳͚̣̰̟̽̄ͧ̀̄ͣͫͦ͘̕Ỉ̵͕̘̯̬̙̮̲͙͇̩͕͈̼̭̊̅͛̈̃͋ͮ͞L͎̙̬͙̟̺͔̰̲͖͙̲̯͕͓͎̮̐̐̿ͭ͊͗͂͋̍͘͞͝L͒ͨ̂̅̆̋ͭ͂̄͏͏̯̩͖̤̯̯ͅ ̧̮͔̗̜̣͕͚̺͂ͫ̓̈́͑ͯ̾͑̀̂͗̓ͮͣ͆̚̕͟Y̶̝̰̜̥͍͓̊̍ͦ̀̀́͝O͋ͦͪ̀ͩ̌ͩ̿̾̐͂ͬ̈́ͫ̅̐̚͡҉̶̤̫̜̣̬̱̙̪̜̥͙̜͔̹U̾ͯ̈́͌̑̆̇̐ͦ͘͝͏̟̘͚̳̖͕̟̬̤͇͕̹͇̣ͅͅR̪͕͍̗̠̜̦̩̳͑ͦ̌́ͦ̓ͬ́͢ͅͅSͮ̌ͫ͆͐͋ͬ̈́ͫ̚͘҉̱̖̘͖̘Ȩ̵̰͚̟̩̈͗̉̔̌ͮ̾͂̌͌ͭͭ̉̓̀̚L̹͎̝͇̝͕̬̝̺̥̭̠̟̳̽̄̎̋͞ͅF̧͕̦̰̩̙̤̦ͪ̃ͧ́̑̍̔ͥ̍͑̾̍̐̓̕͞
͒̉̅̅̐̚͢҉̦̙̦̜͓̟̤̞͍̹̗͈̟͓̯͉̀͟ͅ

Offline iKonic

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #9 on: May 25, 2016, 08:31:37 PM »
Y̵̦͇̜̗̠̖͔̘ͣ͑̍̾ͩͧ͐̍̽ͮ͘ͅŐ̵̧͉̳͎̼ͥ̉̏̀ͩ̀͛̚Ư̷̷͚̻̞̮̹̅̓ͬͦͧͩ͆̎ͥͨ̕ ̸͆̀̋͂͝͏̥̙͔͍̺̯̙̮̫̣̬͉̜̤̝S̵̡̲̗̰̘̬̝̱ͦ̈́̂͒̎̈͂ͬ͆̿ͭ̾͟U̶͉̮͖̭̺̟̘̔ͭ̃ͨ̐̌͒̊ͯ͘͢͝C̷̵̨͍͍̤͚̼̗̳̬͈͇̯͙̞̭̝̫̿̂͊̌͟K̃ͮ́̉ͣ̇͛̐̏̋̀̋̂͝͏͓̫͈͔̘̹̟̞̻̫̜̝͉̥̙̀͠ ̴̧̢̀̿ͦ̀͒͡͏̺̭̮̜̩̭͙̱̪͚̘S̷̨̯̙͙̳̭̳̳̙̟̄ͮͨ̍ͮ̒͊́̇̈́͆ͥ̒̔̅̇̎̐̕O̵̵̖̠̗̭̬͌ͥͯ̈́́ͮͭ̆ͭ͂̉̒ͬ̊ͣͦ̽͂ ̶́͌̏́̚͏̧̞̤̦̙̜̙̺Ṁ̨̛͙͎̼̞̬̥̰̼̠̬̺̍̽̊͑̐͋̽̒͢U̸̷̢̺̬̖̱̼̦̻̹͕̲̝̟͉̻̜̬̓̈͊͛̆̓ͣ͛̏̾͒̑͗̕͢C̸̨̦̤̞̦̘̤ͤͥ͊͊̀ͯͪͧͨͬͯ̂͋ͯ͂̂͠ͅH̶̸̵̺͇̮̲̞̱̳̪̝̗͚̻̜͖͎̃͌̿͂ͪ̄̓̾̏̾̃̾̅ͯͪͣ̄̄́
̌̒ͫ̀̊͟҉̩̞͚͍͍H̶̴͉͚̘̖̻̤̖̫͚̾̆̒̓ͤ̉̈́͛ͤ̆ͤ̀͌ͯͫ̒ͯ̃̀̚͢͝O͋ͪ͂̚͟͡҉̪͍̥̩̹̟ͅL̆̃̽̂͑͂̉̎͌ͥͥ̆ͨ̂̚͠҉̫̜̞͔̝͇͈̹͖̼͓̤̲͉̝͇̹͞͝Ỳ̢̱̟̪̪͙̪̻͍͖̦̺̋̅ͬ̑̽̎͆̈͢͞ ̛̬͇̠͍̤͌̐ͦͧ̐͂̊̑͐̋͑͛ͯͪ̌̏ͥ͟͜͞S̶̵̶̡̝̤̪̥̮͇͕͇͇͕͚̗͔̟ͯ͛ͧ̔̉͛͝H̡̦͔̝̠̰͍͗͆͗͆̈́͢͞I̸̴̺͍̭͓̞̫̘̖͍̺̳͇͕̹̠̲̅͆͐̆͛ͦ̊͢͢͝Ţ̣͎̲̞͓̫͖̝̩͈̱͕̫͂ͪͧ̆̀ͯ͝ͅͅ ̴̨̢͇͚͎̤̟̠̫̳̬̘̙͎͚̔͂͆̋ͭ̽̐̎͆ͮ͊̋͊ͧͤ̿̚͞
͈̠̫̈͌ͪ͐ͦ̅̉́͑̔̂̇̀͘Ḳ̵̢̻͕̲̙̳͚̣̰̟̽̄ͧ̀̄ͣͫͦ͘̕Ỉ̵͕̘̯̬̙̮̲͙͇̩͕͈̼̭̊̅͛̈̃͋ͮ͞L͎̙̬͙̟̺͔̰̲͖͙̲̯͕͓͎̮̐̐̿ͭ͊͗͂͋̍͘͞͝L͒ͨ̂̅̆̋ͭ͂̄͏͏̯̩͖̤̯̯ͅ ̧̮͔̗̜̣͕͚̺͂ͫ̓̈́͑ͯ̾͑̀̂͗̓ͮͣ͆̚̕͟Y̶̝̰̜̥͍͓̊̍ͦ̀̀́͝O͋ͦͪ̀ͩ̌ͩ̿̾̐͂ͬ̈́ͫ̅̐̚͡҉̶̤̫̜̣̬̱̙̪̜̥͙̜͔̹U̾ͯ̈́͌̑̆̇̐ͦ͘͝͏̟̘͚̳̖͕̟̬̤͇͕̹͇̣ͅͅR̪͕͍̗̠̜̦̩̳͑ͦ̌́ͦ̓ͬ́͢ͅͅSͮ̌ͫ͆͐͋ͬ̈́ͫ̚͘҉̱̖̘͖̘Ȩ̵̰͚̟̩̈͗̉̔̌ͮ̾͂̌͌ͭͭ̉̓̀̚L̹͎̝͇̝͕̬̝̺̥̭̠̟̳̽̄̎̋͞ͅF̧͕̦̰̩̙̤̦ͪ̃ͧ́̑̍̔ͥ̍͑̾̍̐̓̕͞
͒̉̅̅̐̚͢҉̦̙̦̜͓̟̤̞͍̹̗͈̟͓̯͉̀͟ͅ

But seriously now, Apollo, how do you like the character?

!nicehack

Apollo

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #10 on: May 25, 2016, 08:33:39 PM »
Does he not have eyes and why does he walk around as a television cosplay?

Offline Lurker

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #11 on: May 25, 2016, 08:42:32 PM »
Does he not have eyes and why does he walk around as a television cosplay?
Its metaphoric you nerd

Apollo

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #12 on: May 25, 2016, 08:43:22 PM »
Does he not have eyes and why does he walk around as a television cosplay?
Its metaphoric you nerd

Does that mean my character Fins was a pretentious goldfish?

Damn son, how I wish I could RP that character again. I bet the things would be much more different and more Lovecraftian.

Offline iKonic

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #13 on: May 25, 2016, 09:00:15 PM »
Does he not have eyes and why does he walk around as a television cosplay?
Its metaphoric you nerd

Lighting.

The second picture is just a portrait of how he visualizes the monster.

!nicehack

Apollo

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Re: Lovely Jasper and his Inner Monsters, The one of Broken Mirrors.
« Reply #14 on: May 25, 2016, 09:14:11 PM »
Ooh alright pretty cool tbh, have fun RPing this man