Post by Repliku on May 1, 2009 0:39:08 GMT -5
BASICS-
Full Name: Riku (Replica)
Nickname(s): Repliku (used to avoid confusion between this and the real Riku.)
Age: Not even a year.
Age Appearance: 15
Gender: Male
Canon or Original: Canon
World Of Origin: Castle Oblivion
History: Repliku was birthed in the basements of Castle Oblivion, when Vexen constructed him from data gathered from a fight with the original. This replica’s purpose was twofold; to return Riku’s heart to the Darkness, and later to counter Marluxia’s plans to use Sora. To achieve this goal his memories were arranged to resemble those of the original, with the added addition of Namine. And so, not even suspecting that he was but a fabrication, Repliku pitted himself against Sora under the pretense of falsified oath to protect Namine. Sora, equally unaware of Repliku’s nature, fought back with equal fervor.
After a time, the two had their final fight. Though the replica seemed to have won this skirmish, Namine forcefully destroyed his memories to halt the final blow. He lay in shock for quite some time after this. But by the time things were wrapping up Repliku was back on his feet. He had lost his false memories, but still retained his oath to protect Namine, even going so far as to guard her while Sora took on Marluxia. Repliku eventually leaves Sora and Namine, wishing no more hard feelings on the boy.
What seemed to be his final moments took place in a simulation of Twilight Town. Here, after procuring Zexion’s power, he challenged the real Riku to what would be their final battle. Repliku lost in spite of his boost in power, but fades into Darkness with a final bit of comfort from his counterpart.
Following his defeat, he found himself in a strange world. He had no memories of his past, with only a foggy oath of some sort to prove such a past even existed. He initially awoke in an apartment of some sort, but fled after discovering that a similar (if older) individual who shared his name lived down the hall from him. Repliku has since lived the hobo life, determined to discover who this imposter is.
Appearance: Repliku, being based on Riku, looks as he did three years ago. His silver hair is shorter (though still quite long), his face has a more youthful look to it, and his voice and overall height have not ripened yet. His choice of clothing is also similar to the Riku back then, with a yellow and black sleeveless shirt and blue pants belted at the ankles. When using the Darkness, Repliku dons an almost skintight armor with the Heartless emblem upon the chest.
Personality: Being a copy, Repliku’s mentality mimics Riku’s to a certain degree. He comes across as cocky and competitive, and is more than willing to step up to anyone’s challenge. Also like the original, Repliku is vulnerable to bouts of envy, which tend to turn into a powerful rage over time. Above all else, he is a loner. He feels no need to ask for the aid of others, and in most cases would turn it down were it offered. This is especially true of his mission to “protect” Namine; it is his cause, and any who might wish to share it will be brutally and violently denied.
LISTS-
Likes:
Namine
Feeling superior
The Darkness
Dislikes:
Sora
Riku
Strengths:
Use of Soul Eater
Powers from the Darkness
Determination
Weaknesses:
Lack of emotional control
Inferiority complex
Rash behavior
Fears:
That he will prove to be inferior to “the other him.”
OTHER-
Extra: Repliku can tap into his dark powers, though not with the experience he had built up in Castle Oblivion. This included conjuring Soul Eater. He thinks his powers are connected to the Darkness, but does not understand why he actually has them. He makes an effort to keep these powers a secret from others.
Password: Poison Berries
Custom Title:/u]
RP Sample: (Playing an Akuma from D Gray-Man)
A small smile crossed the lips of Alain, expressing that reserved joy he could only demonstrate in his human skin. “Exorcist, huh? Well thank you for bringing this new entertainment to my doorstep. Just promise me one thing before we begin....” There was no movement as he rid himself of the disguise. The skin simply seemed to slide off the Akuma, unmasking the beast beneath only to disappear and be reused another day. The weapon remained with hit back to the young man, grinning sadistically over his shoulder. “Think you can scream a little when I kill you? It means the world to me.” He brought one hand up, his crimson fingers curled as if grasping an object so as to emphasize the pointed claws at their tips.
The initial expression worn by Plaisir underwent a speedy metamorphosis to one of surprise when the Exorcist’s innocence became active. While it was his first time witnessing such a weapon firsthand, it was not the innocence itself that shocked him. It was how it felt much like a fellow Akuma. The presence was not precisely accurate, but it was certainly present. How could two things so opposed to one another feel so painfully similar? Did all innocence feel like this, or was this one simply attempting to deceive him.
The change in attitude lasted only a few scarce moments, and soon the Akuma was back to his old self. Bringing his shark-tooth grin back to his countenance, he hurled his head back and howled with a most hideous laughter. There was no humanity in the cackle, no warmth, no sanity. It was the laugh of a madman, filled with a great joy beyond the comprehension of rational man. It filled him, the street, the city. Though noticeably stunned mere moments before, he had quickly made a full recovery. The shrill crow of ecstasy lingered about long after it had ended, bouncing about the empty streets of the sleeping city. His response finished, the Akuma twirled about to fully face the Exorcist, his eyes littered with the madness of his cry.
“Pain? From you, I suppose? Don’t make me laugh!” It was too late for that, it seemed, but Plaisir failed to realize the odd nature of his words. “Who do you think you are talking to? Don’t say such stupid things with a serious expression!” He stooped over, his arms arced up in a “ready for anything” form with the hands facing the ground. At present the head was the closest to the young man. “It is you who will suffer Exorcist. You who will wreath on the stones below you, your blood painting the streets and your final breaths setting the mood. But that isn’t all......” The knees bent, bringing Plaisir further into a hunch. His maddened voice grew lower alongside his posture. “Your friends, they will finish the atmosphere.” He did not need to indicate just who he was talking about; all three opponents were in plain view now. “With them I will finish this portrait of massacre, this tribute to slaughter that you began by bringing them here. Their innards shall present the final touch....their beautiful screams will be the delicate orchestra that accompanies my work....”
Then, when it seemed that his voice had become a near whisper, he struck. The Akuma filled his lungs to the brim with a single breath, arching himself backwards in a sharp contrast to his prior position. Then, shooting forward once more, he released a plume of violet gas; his Phantom Weighted Air. Plaisir typically detested opening with this power, but he knew when he was outmatched. He would finish this first combatant flawlessly, then move on to the remainders after they had seen their comrade slain in front of them. That kind of crap always seemed like a good way to dislodge some emotion.
Full Name: Riku (Replica)
Nickname(s): Repliku (used to avoid confusion between this and the real Riku.)
Age: Not even a year.
Age Appearance: 15
Gender: Male
Canon or Original: Canon
World Of Origin: Castle Oblivion
History: Repliku was birthed in the basements of Castle Oblivion, when Vexen constructed him from data gathered from a fight with the original. This replica’s purpose was twofold; to return Riku’s heart to the Darkness, and later to counter Marluxia’s plans to use Sora. To achieve this goal his memories were arranged to resemble those of the original, with the added addition of Namine. And so, not even suspecting that he was but a fabrication, Repliku pitted himself against Sora under the pretense of falsified oath to protect Namine. Sora, equally unaware of Repliku’s nature, fought back with equal fervor.
After a time, the two had their final fight. Though the replica seemed to have won this skirmish, Namine forcefully destroyed his memories to halt the final blow. He lay in shock for quite some time after this. But by the time things were wrapping up Repliku was back on his feet. He had lost his false memories, but still retained his oath to protect Namine, even going so far as to guard her while Sora took on Marluxia. Repliku eventually leaves Sora and Namine, wishing no more hard feelings on the boy.
What seemed to be his final moments took place in a simulation of Twilight Town. Here, after procuring Zexion’s power, he challenged the real Riku to what would be their final battle. Repliku lost in spite of his boost in power, but fades into Darkness with a final bit of comfort from his counterpart.
Following his defeat, he found himself in a strange world. He had no memories of his past, with only a foggy oath of some sort to prove such a past even existed. He initially awoke in an apartment of some sort, but fled after discovering that a similar (if older) individual who shared his name lived down the hall from him. Repliku has since lived the hobo life, determined to discover who this imposter is.
Appearance: Repliku, being based on Riku, looks as he did three years ago. His silver hair is shorter (though still quite long), his face has a more youthful look to it, and his voice and overall height have not ripened yet. His choice of clothing is also similar to the Riku back then, with a yellow and black sleeveless shirt and blue pants belted at the ankles. When using the Darkness, Repliku dons an almost skintight armor with the Heartless emblem upon the chest.
Personality: Being a copy, Repliku’s mentality mimics Riku’s to a certain degree. He comes across as cocky and competitive, and is more than willing to step up to anyone’s challenge. Also like the original, Repliku is vulnerable to bouts of envy, which tend to turn into a powerful rage over time. Above all else, he is a loner. He feels no need to ask for the aid of others, and in most cases would turn it down were it offered. This is especially true of his mission to “protect” Namine; it is his cause, and any who might wish to share it will be brutally and violently denied.
LISTS-
Likes:
Namine
Feeling superior
The Darkness
Dislikes:
Sora
Riku
Strengths:
Use of Soul Eater
Powers from the Darkness
Determination
Weaknesses:
Lack of emotional control
Inferiority complex
Rash behavior
Fears:
That he will prove to be inferior to “the other him.”
OTHER-
Extra: Repliku can tap into his dark powers, though not with the experience he had built up in Castle Oblivion. This included conjuring Soul Eater. He thinks his powers are connected to the Darkness, but does not understand why he actually has them. He makes an effort to keep these powers a secret from others.
Password: Poison Berries
Custom Title:/u]
RP Sample: (Playing an Akuma from D Gray-Man)
A small smile crossed the lips of Alain, expressing that reserved joy he could only demonstrate in his human skin. “Exorcist, huh? Well thank you for bringing this new entertainment to my doorstep. Just promise me one thing before we begin....” There was no movement as he rid himself of the disguise. The skin simply seemed to slide off the Akuma, unmasking the beast beneath only to disappear and be reused another day. The weapon remained with hit back to the young man, grinning sadistically over his shoulder. “Think you can scream a little when I kill you? It means the world to me.” He brought one hand up, his crimson fingers curled as if grasping an object so as to emphasize the pointed claws at their tips.
The initial expression worn by Plaisir underwent a speedy metamorphosis to one of surprise when the Exorcist’s innocence became active. While it was his first time witnessing such a weapon firsthand, it was not the innocence itself that shocked him. It was how it felt much like a fellow Akuma. The presence was not precisely accurate, but it was certainly present. How could two things so opposed to one another feel so painfully similar? Did all innocence feel like this, or was this one simply attempting to deceive him.
The change in attitude lasted only a few scarce moments, and soon the Akuma was back to his old self. Bringing his shark-tooth grin back to his countenance, he hurled his head back and howled with a most hideous laughter. There was no humanity in the cackle, no warmth, no sanity. It was the laugh of a madman, filled with a great joy beyond the comprehension of rational man. It filled him, the street, the city. Though noticeably stunned mere moments before, he had quickly made a full recovery. The shrill crow of ecstasy lingered about long after it had ended, bouncing about the empty streets of the sleeping city. His response finished, the Akuma twirled about to fully face the Exorcist, his eyes littered with the madness of his cry.
“Pain? From you, I suppose? Don’t make me laugh!” It was too late for that, it seemed, but Plaisir failed to realize the odd nature of his words. “Who do you think you are talking to? Don’t say such stupid things with a serious expression!” He stooped over, his arms arced up in a “ready for anything” form with the hands facing the ground. At present the head was the closest to the young man. “It is you who will suffer Exorcist. You who will wreath on the stones below you, your blood painting the streets and your final breaths setting the mood. But that isn’t all......” The knees bent, bringing Plaisir further into a hunch. His maddened voice grew lower alongside his posture. “Your friends, they will finish the atmosphere.” He did not need to indicate just who he was talking about; all three opponents were in plain view now. “With them I will finish this portrait of massacre, this tribute to slaughter that you began by bringing them here. Their innards shall present the final touch....their beautiful screams will be the delicate orchestra that accompanies my work....”
Then, when it seemed that his voice had become a near whisper, he struck. The Akuma filled his lungs to the brim with a single breath, arching himself backwards in a sharp contrast to his prior position. Then, shooting forward once more, he released a plume of violet gas; his Phantom Weighted Air. Plaisir typically detested opening with this power, but he knew when he was outmatched. He would finish this first combatant flawlessly, then move on to the remainders after they had seen their comrade slain in front of them. That kind of crap always seemed like a good way to dislodge some emotion.
