Post by Azrael on Oct 25, 2015 19:08:34 GMT -5
Basic Information
Player Nickname: (Hal)
Profile URL: (http://roleplay.chat/profile.php?user=Azrael)
Do you want other role players to give you feed back?: Yes, if they want
Model / Actor's name: Paul Bettany
Name: Jean-Paul Valley
Alter Ego: Azrael
Age: 24
Birthday: 6th Dec, 1990
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 lbs
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Physique: Athletic, Solid but not overly muscular
Training: Martial Arts: Ninjutsu, Kinamotay, Leopard Style Kung Fu, Boxing, Kickboxing, Muy Thai, Silat, Eskrima, Karate, European Swordsmanship
Equipment: Suit of Sorrow, Swords of Sin and Salvation
Description
Appearance: The Suit of Sorrows maintains the appearance from its original creation: that of a Knight's Templar garb. However, the pants and shoes have been updated to a more fitting style suited for modern day travel across rooftops and fighting over the open fields fighting of old. His hooded cloak is tattered and the stylized masked over his face serves to obscure his voice a bit and hide his identity. See Here
Personality: Anger, Rage filled, Remorseful, Tormented, Driven, Impulsive, Single-Minded, Kind, Caring
Significant relationships
Batman- The man who saved him for the corruption and programming of the Order of St. Dumas. Since he was chosen to be his successor, Jean-Paul Valley took to heart everything that meant. He strove to be worthy of that responsibility and mantel. When his chance came and he failed, it struck him deeply. The aftermath left Jean-Paul wanting to do whatever he could to recover the standing in Bruce's eyes that he had lost. This has led to him rushing into situations without understanding the breadth of what is going on (such as when his intervention blew a sting operation and his assault on to police officers) causing him to fail more. The Caped Crusader's trust means much to Jean-Paul and he gives the Dark Knight his undying loyalty.
Tim Drake - One of the partners of Batman that Valley has the most experience with; Tim Drake was commissioned to teach Jean-Paul the morality and methods of the Bat-Family. It was thanks to this teaching that he was able to overcome the murderous tendencies that coated his actions and turned him into the hero. While his style has always been violent, Drake's help allows Azrael to hold back from taking that final act... most of the time.
Bane - The cause of both Azrael's rise to the mantel of Batman and a turning point that led to his fall. Bane is not only a villain, he is a walking representation that for all of Batman's accomplishments, feats, and skills, he has been beaten. They have fought and both have defeated the other and the animosity ran deep for some time until, in his first mission to restore Batman's faith in him, he finally bested Bane not as Azrael, but as Jean-Paul Valley.
Carleton LeHah - For everything, there must be an opposite. A yin and yang. As Biis, he is Azrael's opposing force. Carleton LeHah was once a member of the Order of St. Dumas, but his betrayal of the order through thievery cemented him as an enemy. Ludovic Valley's failure in ending his life is what began Jean-Paul's journey down the path that he walks to this day. A final clash will come one day and a reckoning will be had.
Vehicles
(If you have a vehicle or multiple vehicles such as Aircraft, Motorcycle, Yacht, etc.)
Vehicle Name: N/A at this time
Type: N/A
Armaments: N/A
Armor type: N/A
Abilities: N/a
Audition post
The hood came off and he was met with the light of a fire. His sight was blurred and his head was spinning, but Jean-Paul's vision was quickly starting to return until there was a heavy thud against his head. The blurriness returned as he felt the heavy, burning sting in his left temple. A trickle of thick liquid dribbled down the side of his face. He tried to get up, but his feet and hands were bound. It was then that Valley realized he had been tied to a chair. He should be able to break free of this? Why couldn't he? His mind felt sluggish; something was dragging him down and keeping him from being at his peak. Words were stated to him but he could not make them out. They came to his ears as if there were thick muffs covering them. Seconds, perhaps longer, passed and darkness over took him...
When he awoke again, it was to a mixture of frigid water and a cruel blow that felt like it almost shattered his jaw. Words fought through the metal fog, "Purify... Clean... Holy..." Everything he heard was punctuated by images flashing before him, violent strikes that crashed against his body, more words, and the taste of his own blood in his own mouth. More time passed. Jean-Paul knew that he started to answer some of the questions that he heard. Sometimes he was given something soothing which calmed the pain and other times he felt himself wracked with even more pain. "W-why...?" he asked in a pain filled voice. Everything up to this point had happened so quickly but now his world seemed to have slammed clean into a brick wall. "You have been tainted by sin, my son. You have forgotten your holy mission... the purpose at which you are destined to fulfill." Something touched his cheek. A hand? Moments later, his body was lifted up by gentle touches. "Please...don't..." The hand on his cheek caressed him gingerly, "Do not worry, my son, for you will be cleansed." The hand left and a violent blow came to his gut. The air in his lungs was ejected, bones cracked and broken within his chest, and Valley fell to the ground in a heap. Gasping for air, fingers clawing at the ground, his head turned to the ground. It was the only solid, comforting thing that he could find. "L-let me go!" he finally managed to gasp out with the bit of air he had sucked into his deflated lungs. The first response was a painful blow to his face that shattered his nose. Blood sprayed out from the nostrils as it quickly began to swell. "You cannot run for your destiny," came the sensitive voice again, "you are meant for it. And there is no choice." It dragged on and on without end. The pain and voices. All his eyes could ever fully make out were the blurred lights but after what could have been a day... a week... a year... he did not know whether he was dreaming or awake anymore. Then, one blow struck him in the groin and what came was not pain nor grief at his situation. A fire was lit within. Through the blurs and muddled world that was his life, a defiance thing set its foot down. No more. No more pain. No more tears. His body reacted without his will. As the foot came for his face, the right arm lifted up and stopped it at the shin with the forearm. The left swept inward, the fingers closing into a fist that collided with the side of the knee of the leg. Bone shattered against the knuckles, the digits feeling the cracking and breaking of joint cartilage even as the leg collapsed in on itself at the outside of the knee. Screams filled the air but they were not erupting from his lips. Slowly, he rose to his feet. What had been a man was gone. What stood was something more...
The pants were pulled on over his legs. The shoes slipped on and secured. Then the mail and robe followed, secured at his waist by a thick, pouched belt. The robe was tugged around until the scarlet cross which had been stitched onto it was set at the center of his torso. His arms were draw out to the sides and metal gauntlets slipped on his hands, fitted and adjusted until they were as if one with him. Another belt was wrapped around his waist, twin longswords hanging down, the handles set at his lower back. A tattered cloak was wrapped around his shoulders and neck as an omnious chant began to fill the air around him. Tiny flames from a multitude of candles licked at the air, lighting the hooded figures that stood in twin, perfectly made parallell lines. One of those stepped in front of him, his hands bringing up a mask that was set over his face. It fit perfectly... as if it was made for... no... as if it was his face. Finally, the hood was pulled up over his head and a single question was asked, "Who are you... my son?" "....Azrael..." "What is your mission?" "To seek vengeance on sinners... to serve the Order... to end those that would seek to bring it harm and destruction..." Into his hands, a rolled piece of parchment was place. Bringing it up to eye level, Azrael turned it as his fingers unrolled it. Scrolled across it in ink, with pictures held on by thin, curved up pieces of a metallic thing, was the description of his first target: a highly skilled, but aged assassin. A deadly target worthy of the renewed Angel of Death...
Player Nickname: (Hal)
Profile URL: (http://roleplay.chat/profile.php?user=Azrael)
Do you want other role players to give you feed back?: Yes, if they want
Model / Actor's name: Paul Bettany
Name: Jean-Paul Valley
Alter Ego: Azrael
Age: 24
Birthday: 6th Dec, 1990
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 lbs
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Physique: Athletic, Solid but not overly muscular
Training: Martial Arts: Ninjutsu, Kinamotay, Leopard Style Kung Fu, Boxing, Kickboxing, Muy Thai, Silat, Eskrima, Karate, European Swordsmanship
Equipment: Suit of Sorrow, Swords of Sin and Salvation
Description
Appearance: The Suit of Sorrows maintains the appearance from its original creation: that of a Knight's Templar garb. However, the pants and shoes have been updated to a more fitting style suited for modern day travel across rooftops and fighting over the open fields fighting of old. His hooded cloak is tattered and the stylized masked over his face serves to obscure his voice a bit and hide his identity. See Here
Personality: Anger, Rage filled, Remorseful, Tormented, Driven, Impulsive, Single-Minded, Kind, Caring
Significant relationships
Batman- The man who saved him for the corruption and programming of the Order of St. Dumas. Since he was chosen to be his successor, Jean-Paul Valley took to heart everything that meant. He strove to be worthy of that responsibility and mantel. When his chance came and he failed, it struck him deeply. The aftermath left Jean-Paul wanting to do whatever he could to recover the standing in Bruce's eyes that he had lost. This has led to him rushing into situations without understanding the breadth of what is going on (such as when his intervention blew a sting operation and his assault on to police officers) causing him to fail more. The Caped Crusader's trust means much to Jean-Paul and he gives the Dark Knight his undying loyalty.
Tim Drake - One of the partners of Batman that Valley has the most experience with; Tim Drake was commissioned to teach Jean-Paul the morality and methods of the Bat-Family. It was thanks to this teaching that he was able to overcome the murderous tendencies that coated his actions and turned him into the hero. While his style has always been violent, Drake's help allows Azrael to hold back from taking that final act... most of the time.
Bane - The cause of both Azrael's rise to the mantel of Batman and a turning point that led to his fall. Bane is not only a villain, he is a walking representation that for all of Batman's accomplishments, feats, and skills, he has been beaten. They have fought and both have defeated the other and the animosity ran deep for some time until, in his first mission to restore Batman's faith in him, he finally bested Bane not as Azrael, but as Jean-Paul Valley.
Carleton LeHah - For everything, there must be an opposite. A yin and yang. As Biis, he is Azrael's opposing force. Carleton LeHah was once a member of the Order of St. Dumas, but his betrayal of the order through thievery cemented him as an enemy. Ludovic Valley's failure in ending his life is what began Jean-Paul's journey down the path that he walks to this day. A final clash will come one day and a reckoning will be had.
Vehicles
(If you have a vehicle or multiple vehicles such as Aircraft, Motorcycle, Yacht, etc.)
Vehicle Name: N/A at this time
Type: N/A
Armaments: N/A
Armor type: N/A
Abilities: N/a
Audition post
The hood came off and he was met with the light of a fire. His sight was blurred and his head was spinning, but Jean-Paul's vision was quickly starting to return until there was a heavy thud against his head. The blurriness returned as he felt the heavy, burning sting in his left temple. A trickle of thick liquid dribbled down the side of his face. He tried to get up, but his feet and hands were bound. It was then that Valley realized he had been tied to a chair. He should be able to break free of this? Why couldn't he? His mind felt sluggish; something was dragging him down and keeping him from being at his peak. Words were stated to him but he could not make them out. They came to his ears as if there were thick muffs covering them. Seconds, perhaps longer, passed and darkness over took him...
When he awoke again, it was to a mixture of frigid water and a cruel blow that felt like it almost shattered his jaw. Words fought through the metal fog, "Purify... Clean... Holy..." Everything he heard was punctuated by images flashing before him, violent strikes that crashed against his body, more words, and the taste of his own blood in his own mouth. More time passed. Jean-Paul knew that he started to answer some of the questions that he heard. Sometimes he was given something soothing which calmed the pain and other times he felt himself wracked with even more pain. "W-why...?" he asked in a pain filled voice. Everything up to this point had happened so quickly but now his world seemed to have slammed clean into a brick wall. "You have been tainted by sin, my son. You have forgotten your holy mission... the purpose at which you are destined to fulfill." Something touched his cheek. A hand? Moments later, his body was lifted up by gentle touches. "Please...don't..." The hand on his cheek caressed him gingerly, "Do not worry, my son, for you will be cleansed." The hand left and a violent blow came to his gut. The air in his lungs was ejected, bones cracked and broken within his chest, and Valley fell to the ground in a heap. Gasping for air, fingers clawing at the ground, his head turned to the ground. It was the only solid, comforting thing that he could find. "L-let me go!" he finally managed to gasp out with the bit of air he had sucked into his deflated lungs. The first response was a painful blow to his face that shattered his nose. Blood sprayed out from the nostrils as it quickly began to swell. "You cannot run for your destiny," came the sensitive voice again, "you are meant for it. And there is no choice." It dragged on and on without end. The pain and voices. All his eyes could ever fully make out were the blurred lights but after what could have been a day... a week... a year... he did not know whether he was dreaming or awake anymore. Then, one blow struck him in the groin and what came was not pain nor grief at his situation. A fire was lit within. Through the blurs and muddled world that was his life, a defiance thing set its foot down. No more. No more pain. No more tears. His body reacted without his will. As the foot came for his face, the right arm lifted up and stopped it at the shin with the forearm. The left swept inward, the fingers closing into a fist that collided with the side of the knee of the leg. Bone shattered against the knuckles, the digits feeling the cracking and breaking of joint cartilage even as the leg collapsed in on itself at the outside of the knee. Screams filled the air but they were not erupting from his lips. Slowly, he rose to his feet. What had been a man was gone. What stood was something more...
The pants were pulled on over his legs. The shoes slipped on and secured. Then the mail and robe followed, secured at his waist by a thick, pouched belt. The robe was tugged around until the scarlet cross which had been stitched onto it was set at the center of his torso. His arms were draw out to the sides and metal gauntlets slipped on his hands, fitted and adjusted until they were as if one with him. Another belt was wrapped around his waist, twin longswords hanging down, the handles set at his lower back. A tattered cloak was wrapped around his shoulders and neck as an omnious chant began to fill the air around him. Tiny flames from a multitude of candles licked at the air, lighting the hooded figures that stood in twin, perfectly made parallell lines. One of those stepped in front of him, his hands bringing up a mask that was set over his face. It fit perfectly... as if it was made for... no... as if it was his face. Finally, the hood was pulled up over his head and a single question was asked, "Who are you... my son?" "....Azrael..." "What is your mission?" "To seek vengeance on sinners... to serve the Order... to end those that would seek to bring it harm and destruction..." Into his hands, a rolled piece of parchment was place. Bringing it up to eye level, Azrael turned it as his fingers unrolled it. Scrolled across it in ink, with pictures held on by thin, curved up pieces of a metallic thing, was the description of his first target: a highly skilled, but aged assassin. A deadly target worthy of the renewed Angel of Death...
