Americo Santos

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Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Tue Mar 18, 2014 10:39 am

Name: Lothar-Jürgen Sigismund Xylander. Also known as that Blue Asshole. Officially though, new identity is Americo Santos, still an asshole though despite the name change. Can sometimes be referred to as Senhor Schmidz for reasons unknown among the locals, using Santos and Schmidz interchangeably. Referred to as Space dandy ZUUL by the female strippers of Rio de Janiero due to the butt tattoo he has on his left butt cheek. He is NOT known as Skippy Jr. since he is not a sailor. That's what the Kriegsmarine are for.

Age: 118 years old, appears younger though, despite some of his insides happens to be aged.

Gender: This one is male like the beautiful rhinoceros whale.

Appearance: His face remains an enigma for rightly so a reason aplenty, for what lay behind a mask an abomination to all that is just and righteous to gaze, below that skin of his. His humanity ever so wretched, but still he retains it. Twisted by the annals of age, he looks deceptively young despite the age he feels inside, his black hair feathery and thin, his skin as gray as a slab of stone with blackish veins that flow underneath his skin, as for the rest of his features, he could be considered manly. He has a lantern jaw which is chiseled with a butt chin that swooned ladies, and was strong enough to set an impression on lesser men that he was power incarnate. Despite his age, his youth is that of alluring features, eyes brown as stool, and hair black as the night. His youth withered and it is akin of life not being extended and potent, as much as stretched to thinness where he can feel wrecked inside. His facial skin may be clear of signs of age, but his hands and the body below is wrinkled, that only through taking off some of the excess skin and stitching himself from the leftovers, squeezing through some makeshift cosmetic surgery, does he look younger, but with a lot of scars as a result of his amateur surgery. What flowing hair exposed is feathery and thin, appearing greasy to the touch, with luster shine, yet despite that, it is fluffy to the touch.

His features though filled with mass which is a mixture of fat and muscles evened out, can be made out to be sagged, and yet still stiff to the touch, as if the only thing keeping him rigid and tough in shape are the ooze that flow through his blood veins, giving him an unnatural lack of skin tone that is red and pink, but instead as unmoving as grey. He possesses only a semblance of his former mass, thinned considerably that he can accurately be curtailed to having a wiry build that in truth is bulked up thanks to the ooze, his fingers spidery and bony, with knuckles especially defined in spite of the gloves he wears on it. Standing a good 6' 1" feet, and weighing only 160 pounds. He happens to no longer possess one of his kidneys, as it was reduced to nutrition for his ooze to digest, as well as he is missing his appendix, and his left pinky finger, which is a vestigial stump.

What he wears to conceal his form are a set of buttoned shirt and trousers with suspenders underneath and over, a mixture of Feldgrau colours and blue, with chemical stains on it. A set of jackboots with water proof finish and rubbery soles, and on his trousers are numerous pockets, with likewise on his buttoned long sleeved uniform-ish shirt, that has a collar. It seems utilitarian in nature, which he prefers given what he prefers to carry. The attire consists of a dress shirt he has, and cargo pants with jackboots worn over it, everyday wear he managed to scour, with suspenders attached to an over-belt. He did though gain a gas mask with lens that reflects whatever it ponders, a one way lens that conceals his eyes, and attached is to a canister filled with breathable chemicals that numbs his bloodlust, keeping him calm and in control, albeit within varying effects. Given his role as a practitioner of Brazilian Jujitsu, he tends to wear a flowing set of robes to let the breeze in, and a pair of sandals. Tends to have a lump on the right sleeve of his pants that half-reaches to his knee.

IF he actually has to take off his mask, he is prepared to make constant use of inhalers, or at least half masks which provides respiration. Come to think of it, he wears whatever he has to wear, so long as it numbs his emotional response with some auxiliary additions, as well as the smell of perfume on him he actually uses to cover up the scent of what would be similar to being embalmed, which makes him smell weird. It is a result of the black ooze inside him that he smells strange, his natural scent as if he was embalmed. One of his eyes, that being his right, due to being rotted since being host to Eitr which he had to scoop out and get rid of since it became nothing more than mush, is in fact a glass eye, which is glossier than his other eye.



He now has fancied wearing a coat as of recent late, as it easily houses and conceals his weapons and other arsenal. The entire coat is lined with thick kevlar which gives class III protection throughout the span of the coat, not to prevent Americo from getting shot necessarily, as much as prevent his weapons from getting screwed up by a stray bullet in case he gets shot there. Tends to wear his coat dark grey, with two large pockets in the front, and several hidden compartments underneath.

Equipment:

Gas Mask: Old fashioned, wears it around his face whenever he can, with a canister he fills with air chemicals that relaxes him. Tends to gather the ingredients from the Brazilian outskirts, and processes it into gaseous form, which would otherwise be toxic to anyone but him whenever he inhales it. The canister is filled with the green coloured gas, which he wears to his back, connected by an umbilical cord to the gas mask. It is grounded up from flora from the Brazilian outskirts, and mixed with plants found naturally occurring in the Amazon forests, made into gaseous form through burning it up, trapping said fumes into canister, and inhaling afterwards. Given its limited supply, if outside of Brazil, he'll have to find substitutes, preferably sedatives, as well as anesthesia-like substances.

Inhaler: Otherwise, if left without his gas mask and canister, he tends to carry ten inhalers filled with the same substances, which he inhales from time to time, so his thoughts remain lucid and coherent. It tends to last 5 uses before they run out.

Cigars: Chomping on it gives +5 intelligence. Consume at own risk.... rather, to smoke it. He filled it with his custom ingredients, to achieve the same effects as his inhaler, and to also not appear out of place.

Partridges: He tends to keep some in his pocket, it is best nobody asks where he gains them or why he takes the time to do it. They seem to love nesting in his pocket, or hair alternatively. Must be because Lothar is a bird person. He has 2 birds, 1 in each pocket. Sometimes found dead due to being ill fed.

Glass Eye: It has the same colour as his other eye. Tends to be fitted into the eye socket, but given has a wide enough space, can be used to actually smuggle things around that can be fitted into eyes, such as pins, mini-switch blades that are akin to toothpicks, USB's, etc. etc.

Mk 14: It's a battle rifle he got, civilian variant, which he has chambered for .308 Winchester. Carried around to shoot people, because that's what guns are for. Made with a polished wooden stock and body, instead of the metallic one. Carries around 4 magazines, and has a flip-scope, that he can just push to the side when he wants to iron sight that shit. Usually just uses it to hunt for Pygmys though.

Double barreled shotgun: It's a shotgun, with two barrels, in case nobody can see that, or have no eyes. If so, how does someone read this text in the first place with no eyes? So the shotgun is has a total length of 30 inches, it lacks the stock that comes with balancing him, and actually is a weird hybrid of sorts steadied more by the hands and stability of the arms, as opposed to relying on the shoulders. It retains a wooden finish pistol grip, as well as an underbarrel foreend. Both wood are blackened and dulled out, as the gun itself is break action meant to be fed 12 gauge shells. He usually carries around 16 to 30 shells depending on the occasion, filling his pockets out. Though that's just the total in shells, alternating between Dragon's Breath rounds, though he finds it just great for pyrotechnics rather than actual combat applications besides shock and awe, birdshot pellet rounds, slug rounds, and the normal and conventional shotgun rounds. All of which given he has found the Mk 14 to be a bit too specifying and less as versatile as a shotgun.

Thompson Contender: It's the type of gun that people would think, oh look, it has a single shot, break action, which would be followed by lame, only for their brains to be splattered all over the place. He has a pistol grip, and the foreend underneath the barrel, both are made of black synthetic finish. The entire metal is dulled out to lack luster shine, as it has interchangeable barrels, but is often chambered for .30-06 Springfield bullets, which Americo loves to use given the high powered rounds which has an especially great penetration, tipped with silver as he got an advice from his contract giver in fact, that he may encounter some supernatural creatures in his line of work eventually as his job may lead there, and will have to be prepared for them just in case. He followed said advice, because he has a thing called superior intellect, and figures he'll want to cause as much damage as possible. He carries around 30 rounds for the gun, and given the rifled barrel, and Americo's own marksmanship, makes for a very accurate weapon he can reload within a moment's notice, because he likes speed, and had he a choice, he would've painted the gun red, if only because the red wunz go fasta.

C4: As he figures in fact that he will be killing a LOT of people, typically as he has found a new line of work as a hired killer, Americo thought to bring along explosives in the form of C4, which he carries two of them, about a foot long and half a foot wide, with the appropriate dimensions, which he carries two remotes with him to explode them appropriately. He can turn them into remote grenades if he requires, but that'd be a waste of explosives, unless needed. But NEVER a waste to kill a celebrity dipshit as they see their careers end in an explosive finish, a bang.

Race: Advanced Human who is Advanced.

Abilities: ---UPGRADED TO LEVEL 2---

Regenerative Potential: Level 2 (10 posts for major damage).
Physical Abilities: Level 1 (minor supernatural strength, agility, stamina and reflexes).
Durability: Level 1 (minor supernatural durability).

Lothar has a superior control of his sphincter and other orifices to contract into such tightness, that they may as well be environmentally sealed. But that's not something he brags about, or actually showcases. FEEL HIS SHAME. Also, has a Bachelor's degree in Theoretical Physics, and two minors in Theosophy and Ariosophy. Both of which he took as in fact a backdoor into Archaeology, that he failed to qualify into, but nonetheless subsequently he managed to garner himself a nice PhD in Norse Theology. A nice way of saying he actually can recognize many aspects of it with pinpoint sheer precision, and knows the stories by heart.

He has an understanding of Teutonic occultism, and especially of Nordic occultism, having been in fact one of the perpetrators of the disappearance of Muschelstadt, which he attributes to a summoning gone wrong, or in fact a deliberate sabotage on part of his benefactors. Whatever the case, he is as a result, all the more illuminated on matters esoteric and strange, and is especially professed in Nordic myths.

Aside from those things, he also has intimate understanding of the Nazi system, a good portion of secrets, given he held the rank of SS-Sturmbannführer in the SS-Ahnenerbe sub-regiment, the SS-Schwarzpfeil, including where Hitler's last remaining gilded testicle is, which happens to have been sold to a Brazilian named Pedro Ocampo, whom had a strange fascination with balls, for a mere few dollars worth of cash. How or why for that matter Lothar had that testicle, is a matter of speculation and great debate.

Also has training from his WWI days, and further solidified it into his WWII days, so he knows how to use a gun and shoot someone in the face, that sort of deal. Brushed up further in his combat skills since after WWII by becoming something of a master marksman, through years of hunting Pygmys, animals, and Nazi hunters in jungle environments.

His physique and special attributes are a result of having blackish ichor for blood that replaced his entire physical make up with an enhanced one that increases contraction, eliminates physical fatigue, and is a far more potent source of physical power as it invades his every cells, though still human, owes much of his capabilities, as opposed to skills, to this phenomenon. It automatically makes Lothar an abominable creature, to have become a vassal for such malicious creature that now inhabits his body. His blood is thick and syrupy black, his pink insides turned black, and his entire body from within is perverted into an unholy form that is slowly incubating into something worse despite all these years as a host to the Eldritch ooze, hence his nature as an advanced human, as his wounds are knit by the regenerative black ooze, slow but deliberate, and retains consistency. His skin is quite grey as a result of dark inside that shows from the outside, showing off with grayish exterior if anything which seems sickly and just wrong. An uncanny valley exists in his appearance in which he seems superficial from a glance. A result of having the very source of all life in Norse myths, which is also quite poisonous.

The only thing he can do with the Black Ooze, or so coined up as the ability for the moment, is to solidify it within a suddenly sharp shape of stonish hardness, with whatever designs he has in mind, be it if he would shed it in the first place, which is to say from his blood. To move away by 20 feet from the ooze, would leave it to dissolve within a span of a few nanoseconds and bubble into nothing more than a mere black residue which were even evidence it was there in the first place, hence proximity would be important. The drawbacks though requires blood to be shed, that the potency and effectiveness of whatever he has in mind relies on volume of blood spilled out in a viscous amount.

If someone ingests the blood/black ooze, it is equivalent to taking the most trippiest hallucinogenic drugs, where shit gets weird and wild to their imagination, followed by sheer hysteria and temporary insanity where the default response to it ending is to black out, and later wake up in Morocco the next day, in Casablanca, wearing nothing more than leopard thong, and tongue kissing a fuzzy goat named Hamza. (One of those are literal, that being the trippy drug bit, not the Morocco bit. Who'd actually DRINK his blood anyways? YOU SICKO.)

He has lived with depth perception problems for 30 years, which he has grown used to, as a result, has actually compensated by using his other senses more to make up for the deficiency and the blind spot he has on his right.

Speaks German in his native Hessian accent, passable and decent English with a strange accent that is hard to place as German in origin, whereas his Spanish and Portuguese are neutral yet fluent, though if there would be an origin, he speaks his Spanish akin to an Argentinian, and his Portuguese similar to the Brazilians, given how much time he spent around the two elements.

(Level 2 Ability)

Americo is like a Blanka. Spend enough time in Brazil, chewing on a diet of eels, and living among the jungles, and he'll turn green, and be capable of shooting forth electricity. Except he is not Blanka, and neither does he eat eels, but he DID live in the jungle, yet somehow is not green. Evolution must be false, and a lie, and stupid, and things. Because of course dogmatic beliefs centered around a single interpretation despite the abstract principle of the whole anecdote must leave the person SO WISE as to how there were such changes even in scriptures so, but digressing aside, Americo is NOT Blanka. Though his blood toxic turned acidic, sour and ready to eat through flesh, his own body is able to stand immune to such a blood and its subsequent effects. It can easily dissolve through skin and the flesh underneath, and eat through clothes, though if left on clothes, the damage on the skin underneath is substantially mitigated as the clothes would be eaten away instead (yes, it means clothes dissolve, and no, it doesn't mean that you get to see a beautiful naked person underneath, but some slightly burnt skin, you sicko). Because that's physics, and physics says so, and if anyone disagrees with physics, they are dumb, because it says so in a book. It cannot melt through plastic though on the other hand, but can corrode and weaken metal to be easily breakable with that of a child's strength were it doused and lingering for a while within the fluids that perhaps at a minute's span were it not wiped away in time, weakened in durability as a result. Metallica beware, their Metal won't save them.

SO, as far as it goes, in layman's terms, Americo -> Not harmed by his own acidic blood be it within or without. Everyone else? They'll find their skins melted, and if doused in further acid, perhaps it'll sink past dermal levels to devour the flesh given time, but as far as it goes, it is dangerous to the skin, and only then is awakening its potential, not even close to its peak. Also in layman's terms, bitch got back, but ain't puttin' the junk in the trunks, except imagine it with blood, instead of someone's posterior quarters. It would eat through the skin, but it would take about a while, provided nothing was done to remove it, to begin dissolving underneath the skin to the flesh. People would KNOW there is acid, and are given enough time to rid of it through absorbing the fluids away.

Level up list:

Spoiler:


3 Soul = Level up in Regenerative potential by one rank, and one extra ability.

5 Souls = Level up in Physical ability by one rank.

7 Souls = Level up in Durability and Physical Ability by one rank, and two extra abilities.

9 Souls = Level up in Durability, Regenerative potential and Physical ability by one rank, and three extra abilities.

Organization: Independent.

Personality: An ancient of war, which he hates to be called, MORE than anything in the world, because he sees himself as young, youthful and hip. In a denial of sorts not only of the fact he is old, but also of the fact he has committed anything WRONG in WWII, or the fact he is too abusive to his children, and seems to favor his grandchildren over them as a complex of favoritism spurred and he has caused a lot more problems than he could fix. Lothar is a man, that is bitter, after all those years, suddenly the world is run by morons, idiots, and softies as he thinks, and that he has to HIDE just because he did his damn job, and that was to shoot people like what a good soldier would do. Poisoned thoughts seeping from the hideous condition he exists in, becoming something of a maniac and clinically insane by all medical definitions as a result of his rather unhinged grasp in reality, and vast delusions of grandeur. Sinking into manic episodes, given the poisonous influence he has from his blood, that he has to actually take something to numb his bloodlust, and further his episodes, to remain a functional member of society in his own way.

He isn't exactly endeared to those of self-determination origins, and thinks WWII was in fact a blast, and ethics a useless constraint to be tossed out. It was something he has developed along the line of his occupation as the officer within the Occult subdivision within the Schutzstaffel, and as a member of the Thule Society. Both of which he was under an oath to perform to exacting specification, to perform human trials, experiments, and pursuits in which he thoroughly enjoyed as something interesting and amusing, given how different the reactions he was met with when the face of horror and agony dawns upon him by the victims behind a glass panel. He is not apologetic, or regretful of his actions, aside from the fact he couldn't do more, and he wouldn't be afraid to voice out these facts were he brought to light. He was a man of the uniform, and he is proud for it. He has no apologies for his atrocities, as he was desensitized to such things having done it en masse, and often enough to consider it as natural as breathing, with no hesitation for it.

His hedonism knows no bound, for he sees life as something to enjoy in his later years while he fled to Brazil, progressing further into thinking that the world is his to do away with, as just a man, who is there, to walk and live for as long as he can, enjoying himself while he exists. A fact not lost on his family, that are forever regretful he is in fact aging quite slowly, that he may in fact even become a great great grandfather, and possibly the oldest known human in modern history. A loathing which spurred from his abusive and particularly cruel nature, as he loves to mock and degrade whomever does not meet his arbitrary standards.

A believer in Nietzschian philosophy, just the Ubermensch part, not really the rest, which is pretty much glossed over, he tends to focus on more productive knowledge gathering ventures, and tends to keep quiet about his past. He IS a Nazi after all, and also having witnessed a few horrors in his time, considering it better not to impart knowledge, and to take it to his grave. What he knows, found nowhere but in his mind, of the intimate working of the Nazi regime, as the few survivors, a fact not lost on Xylander, that he self-inflates his own self-worth because of it, narcissistic as a result as well.

Sardonic, cruel, intelligent without being brilliant, hedonistic, somewhat depraved, and brutal, who just so happens to love his grandchildren, and hates his children, for a twist of irony. Also a habitual smoker of marijuana and crack. He may not be a good man, in fact, he may be an evil man according to his victims whom lived (which aren't many), and has in fact fell victim to his own ego and hubris, one thing that can never be said about Lothar, is that he is anything but introspective, and knows right from wrong, he just makes a clear distinction he prefers to do the wrong, moral thing, if he benefits from it on a gratifying scale.

Also loves his pet shark more than he loves his family.

Speaks with a harsh tongue that is guttural and full of hate, ferocity and anger, even though he is calm, he sounds angry, hateful, or ready to commit genocide.

Character alignment is Neutral Awesome.

Rank: Nazi War Criminal & Retiree.

Biography: A long time ago, in a land not so far away, in a quint posh little place called Europe, there existed a man, who loved to do things that others hated him for, and there were others a lot like him. His past murky with atrocities, and he likewise hated in turn. Despite his mannerisms, he lived in bliss in a place where everyone but other people unlike them did not have a place, and later it fell. Now how it fell? Simple, with enough people hating another bunch of people, it would entail in the culmination in its destruction. That place was known as Nazi Germany, and Lothar, he was a Nazi. He fled to Brazil at the end of the war, but unlike the beginning of World War II, was no longer the same human. To examine the circumstances that brought him up to being something more than human, and yet still remaining less, would be to examine his origins first of all and how it led up to these circumstances.

ONCE upon a time...

There was a time where Lothar fought, and he fought against vast myriads of many creatures alike to him with a single goal akin to a Luftwaffle/Kamikaze pilot ready to crash into a great sphere of fuzzy exterior, with many millions actually following pursuit towards the objective. Lothar at the time believably was young, if that was ever the case. In his mind was to simply crash his speedy harness straight into the sphere, as millions plummeted and died off. It was a great tragedy and chaos that not even Lothar remembers, for he has become one to fertilize the egg, whereas the rest of his brethren were DEAD. As in as dead as one gets, thrown away, deceased, killed. It was a finality without a continuation, and he happened to reap the benefit.

Months went on without end that he procured and became one with the egg, incubating and fermenting into something of a love-child made from the communion of two, as he sagged into life, slowly coming into fruition till the mother vessel he inhabited swelled up in the size of the belly, till he was ready to be shat out through a process known as birthing. One that would take doctors a while to pull out, for he was a great fierce mighty fighter that has resisted their insidious pulls out of her folds, till they had to actually just use Caesarian to extract him out instead, where his mother was rehabilitated. The place where the glorious Lothar was born into? Wiesbaden, which was in Hesse. He was a lad of blonde disposition, and brownish eyes, and it was in the latest 1800's where the era was ending where upon he has come to life in a hospital of modern convenience for its time. His birth, other than the hard to extract method, was relatively without complications, relatively. And by relatively without complications, his mother died as a result of the Caesarian, which left the father a widower. He placed no blame on Lothar, but actually saw him as a worthy legacy to raise on his own, despite the sadness and irrationality in his heart that the boy was to blame for the death, but the cold hard German rationalism in him told him that it were the doctors to blame for their sloppiness, even though troubled, he remained stoic throughout and suppressed such feelings, which were not to arise again in the future.

He grew up in the relatively small city with not much information about him aside from whomever spoke about Lothar, mentioned that he was a cunning kid, sly and rather sharp, but nothing brilliant or someone who stood out much. His school is likewise the same, where he learnt to proclaim his allegiance to the Kaiser, because that was kind of the thing to do at the time, which he did, without question. Okay, may not go THAT far, but when he grew up as a child, he was taught to hunt by his father, in an attempt to link the two into something of having a common ground, and it being an excuse for the papa war veteran to fill the void in his heart by actually teaching his child his trade, which is just shooting things from a distance, which paradoxically, DESPITE instilling love for firearms in his son, he actually expects him to go to college, like a good tyke, and achieve a doctorate or something of that sort. It wouldn't be something he actually achieved as he grew up and attended school, and later the German equivalent of high school, that despite those things, the Great War broke out. His initial development as a teenager was impressionable and patriotic thanks to the teachings instilled in him both, from his father who is a Franco-Prussian war veteran, his love for firearms which is a LITTLE too affectionate, and peer pressure. All three of them were WONDERFUL things considering anyone that stayed at home, probably in the basement or some such were cowards, pansies, or Nancy boys. Now Lothar wasn't going to have any of that, and joined his graduating high school class en route to the war, his father's protest and his career be damned, well, he planned to pick up his career anyways, after all, huge talks of the war ending in Christmas time, or even before it, were spoken much and loudly.

Now how did the war start? It was due to the coward, Gavrilo Princep, whom shot the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, as they have survived several subsequent assassinations in Serbia, having slain the two young ones in their honeymoon, and embarking on terrorism, or the like, which is really assassination. Using this as a pretext to actually take out Serbia from the equation, after all, if they hadn't take them on, what's the worst that can happen? It's not like Serbia would be later on, maybe a century or so almost later, would become a xenophobic nation which considers those that commit genocide as heroes, NOPE, not at all, it's pretty unlikely. Anyways, so Germany, at Austria's insistence, DESPITE Bismarck's policies to retain a static position in which Germany would be an Imperial power without being bogged down and dragged along to be so involved, has been ignored by the then Kaiser Wilhelm II. Said Kaiser, ambitious to leave a lasting legacy, opted to join a war that would be disastrous in the end for Germany, especially with the maneuvering undertaken, which though the Schleiffan plan was smart, it ignored political ramifications of trying to encircle France through a neutral nation.

However that's not where Lothar was, in the onset of the war, he trained to be a marksman, joining the Eastern front in a battle against the Russians, Serbs, and Romanians alongside the more inept Austro-Hungarian forces. It enlightened him in many ways that war wasn't romantic, but he was easily adept at adapting into the situation, unlike his peers whom were cowardly, Lothar discovered he in fact liked the thrill of combat despite the casualties and near death experience, getting something akin to the combat high. To put it into perspective, he outperformed his peers when it came to the war, deriving enjoyment and seeing it as a smashing old time, whereas the rest were horrified by the violence and brutality of modern warfare, as a good number washed out given the bloody results of charging across, and especially seeing the Russians being killed en masse. They were inefficient, not enough firearms or ammunition for each soldier, some were given rifles, and some were given clips, and only a rare few were given both. The Russians fared better though against the Ottomans, but not against the Germans whom turned the situation into something that is more lopsided to their favour. For some good years Lothar spent fighting there in the more flexible warfare, as opposed to the static trenches of the West, watching his friends die, vengeful, killing the enemies that resulted in the death of his comrades. He got medals for killing enemies that just wanted to surrender, for things he wasn't ORDERED to do, for his initiative, and for being brave beyond compare, as opposed to being a victim to his own natural combat high. He racked up ranks, accolades, and even some admirers back home at his home town, which is partly due to propaganda in that village, as he was known in the Eastern front, gaining a nickname as the Zloy Medved to the Russians, doesn't help that he shot men whom were inadequately armed, which later escalated in difficulty as they begun gaining appropriate munitions. Difficulty went from normal to hard, and the war was dragged down still where the Russians merely threw men after men on the Germans and the Austro-Hungarians in repetition to achieve strategic dominance, which in cases in doing so, among other strategies, worked out.

It was a long bloody career, where in part of the dwindling circumstances in Russia, they pulled out thanks to the Communist revolution, the Germans smuggled in Lenin and his revolutionaries into Russia, which resulted in their ultimate withdrawal. Free to commit forces elsewhere, the Germans were moved into the Western front, veterans of the Eastern front, among them chiefly the Staff Sergeant Major Xylander, fought in a grueling battle of attrition that irritated him to no end in the bloody conflict of the trenches, having made leeway towards the French and British, and yet despite their advance, it was stalled with the even fresher inclusion of Americans. Despite the belief they had a legitimate chance of actually winning the war, Lothar was devastated to hear that the German 2nd Reich surrendered to the Allies. With him retiring afterwards, disgruntled and pissed off, Lothar decided to bank into his pensions, which were almost useless thanks to the inflation, instead opting to move out of Germany given the circumstances, and settle for a while to pursue his scholarly pursuits, in honour of his now-dead father's wishes, whom died from Spanish Influenza in Germany back in the Great War, to earn a degree in something, also to forget the whole shame of being a member of a nation that lost a war, or more accurately, to be led by the Kaiser into surrender. Everyone back home pointed fingers for causes, looking for reasons, whereas Lothar himself, looked to ignore and at least suppress the indescribable anxiety as a result of being lost. He took to attending a late funeral, sold off his homestead in Hesse, and moved on with his lingering money to travel to Austria to study to become an Archaeologist. At first, his poor marks in High school sabotaged him given he placed more importance in hunting than on studying, he decided to take backdoors into Archaeology as he wanted to, completing his degrees in the following years, and even getting married, as life seemed to move on for that time.

He however remained unsatisfied, despite getting the woman of his dreams, despite having earned his degrees, with his eyes locked on one final one, he was sad for Germany, and especially being ruled by the inefficient Weimer Republic. What came after being the Nazi party, as they had a meteoric rise, as well as being encouraged by his comrade from the Great War, a fellow soldier by the name of Ramiel von Dusseldorf, who joined the Nazi party, to come back to Germany and join the party as well, help rebuild the ruined country one step at a time, and to get his keep back, instead of staying over in Vienna. Emboldened, and found with new purpose, if not to probably smack Ramiel for thinking he didn't actually give more than enough dues to his nation, Lothar, on shaky grounds and an uncertain future, instead of the quint one he had filled with mundane certainty in Austria, took his family to Munich, didn't take to joining the party until five years afterwards, instead, pursuing further scholarly pursuits, what with racial purity at the time being a hot topic, and studied ancient Norse theology there, in five years time after writing a thesis to do with Norse myths being quite real, as he extrapolated from an earlier finding submitted by the controversial author of Hinter dem Schleier, who allegedly discovered artifacts in Norway in the form of the well of life, which many scholars sans Lothar didn't take seriously, Lothar was granted the PhD for pushing forward a more convincing argument, but nonetheless dismissed as pure fabrication and fiction, that one would mistake for real given the more compelling arguments and evidences in his case not rife with maddened writings, if not only because he has a firm grasp of Nordic mythology better than most. An expert in that field which complimented him to be an ideal candidate for the SS-Ahnenerbe. Though him becoming a member of the Thule Society was never learnt when, just that he was one during this time, and the following period till its dissolution.

He joined Schutzstaffel upon graduation, and toured many sites in Scandinavia as the leading expert of his respective field alongside other Archaeologists, not as an Archaeologist himself, but as a man versed in Nordic runes and other purview which is to do with the Vikings. The Society of the Thule trusted Lothar to find that same fabled nexus of life filled with the origin of it, so said to have been spilling over to leave naught but a lingering scant amount of it somewhere in the cold and tundric reaches. His trek proved fruitful after much research and clue following that ranged from years in exhaustive studies, to bear fruition, as in a small summit almost thought lost and forgotten, they descended down deep into the bowels of a mountain in one mountain range of Norway. With a platoon's worth of soldiers, they encountered many such obstacles in the form of supernatural foes, and yet, they persisted till only five of them remained, with a huge devastating casualty left behind, as excessive firepower was required to take down the ghouls that lingered in the catacombs, reanimated by means unknown, and yet were physically stronger than they should be, and amounting in numbers high enough to contest the claim of the crypts, the so called guardians of the crypt, which were promptly defeated, but at a debilitating cost. They were far too intelligent to be just ghouls though, that the expeditionary forces thought they might be something else all together. Lothar and the survivors, those being soldiers and an archaeologist, managed to find the fruit of their labour, a pool of bubbling black tar-like substance to which reeked of an alien smell, and possessed an alluring appearance. So termed Eitr, one so scant, so little, and yet, so coveted. That success funded further missions to drain the pool out, and yet all attempts to consume it were met with death given the poisonous nature of the substance.

It wasn't the only such expedition undertaken, for it was one of the many, but with the war reaching near its conclusion, and territories were being lost in abundance, Lothar, overseen with trying to find a way to actually gain the powers of Eitr, and also to apply it into mass quantities, was met with failure after another, as the test subjects kept racking up into decaying corpses whom soon expired. What the Nazi's wanted were not expiring corpses, but men filled with vitality all given the nature of Eitr. The answer unfortunately was not found to their liking, only when used in lieu to other artifacts, that perhaps, Lothar theorized alongside a doctor, that maybe the dispersal of Eitr to give life wasn't related to something conveyed through scientific method, but in fact, perhaps done so through something of supernatural methods. The two agreed to try a last ditch effort, one which was reckless, and by all means shouldn't have happened given it goes against protocol, but Lothar insisted for some reason as he had the smuggest smile plastered on his face, he decided to actually instruct the doctor to do something that he thought was by all means insane, but Lothar insisted on it. An experiment otherwise not tried, as they wanted life, not life from death, and something of increased prowess to boot. Their entire thinking process was wrong, Lothar explained, and they shouldn't have thought to give life, without giving into death first.

Leaving himself strapped into an operating table, and under severe insistence as he was egotistical about it, that he actually reaps it, pulling rank several times on the doctor, the doctor relents, and drained Lothar of his blood, making sure to do so while the heart was put at a stop. Afterwards, he was injected with Eitr through the heart, making sure there was little blood in him as he was paled, having been in an unconscious state for a while, if not practically dead for all intents and purposes, if not temporarily. A method that was completely unorthodox, but Lothar volunteered to see his methods working. It needed to compose him back into life once again, for it was the origin of life, and he cannot have his blood flowing through his veins if he were to actually do so. With his heart blackened and filled with the substance, as his skin was cold and his veins grew black, Lothar was electrocuted back into having his heart beat, after his self-induced cardiac arrest, resuscitating and his theory proven right. Something impressive for a man that hadn't studied medicine, which the doctor found amusing really. This was not something achieved just immediately, but took long thought before Lothar even came to the conclusion he needed to be the one for the procedure. Filled with new toxic life in his veins though, with no more clashing of two fluids flowing through his veins, he felt his insides corrupt, and he was writhing in pain.

In a homicidal rage induced as he became vicious, cruel and sinister thanks to what was tantamount to being shed by serpents, Lothar strangled the doctor without time to even appreciate his gifts, driven insane momentarily thanks to having his insides re-arranged to suit the purpose of his ooze. His mind was literally poisoned as he rampaged around the laboratory, being gunned down as he was and considered a failure from the experiment, his body carted out and thrown into a mass grave that was slated to be buried nearby a Concentration Camp incidentally, as that is where the laboratory was near to. The whole project being considered a failure in general, and with Lothar temporarily incapacitated being thought for dead, his insides spat out the bullets shot into him, and he awakened surrounded by corpses of Concentration Camp prisoners. Germany wanted to actually hide their crimes and thus erase all Concentration Camps, it was one of the Concentration Camps nearer to the West, around where the Western forces were closing into Germany.

Digging for two days, as for his diet consisted of the fresh prisoners piled on top of him, as opposed to the more rotting ones below, he bursts out, and escaped in the fires of war. Trekking for distances long, and without ever looking back, as he was delirious, barely reeling back a homicidal urge to kill other people, and in constant pain that he barely had a moment of sleep. He didn't even bother to look for his family, just going straight to leave somewhere far away, killing whomever he can as he left a trail of corpses, that otherwise were excused for nothing more than casualties of war, as the final curtain was about to drop on Berlin itself, getting the idea to go to neutral Switzerland instead. He met with a few escaping Nazi officers in Switzerland escaping from Berlin, some of whom he knew, whom were provided refuge by the Vatican, using this opportunity alongside them to take a ratline to Spain, then to Portugal, and then finally to Brazil. His family be damned, they weren't on his mind, in fact, all that was in his mind was the pain of the whole experience of having what was tantamount to poison flowing inside him, it invigorates him and gives him capabilities beyond what is human, but came with its own bundle of problems. He resolved to take anesthesia to numb his senses, and further partake into morphine to help with it as well, to control his senses.

That being done, he ventured deep into the Amazonian forests, first going into a sanctuary provided for fellow Nazis such as himself, and then from there, he went STRAIGHT into the heart of the jungles themselves, as far away as possible from civilization where he can first try to mitigate the problem he has with pain, and further homicidal feelings. Sure he liked to kill things, but he wants to kill things because it'd feel RIGHT. His corruption at first was relatively tame, but as the years progressed, it has gotten worse to a point some of his body parts were rendered non-functional, that his life isn't exactly made long, but merely stretched to greater lengths. He was fine with that, but he wasn't fine with the idea he'll be doing nothing, not when he has much to do. Thoughts he had in the present rather as he reflected on his relative inactivity.

Lothar, changing his identity to Americo Santos, came into a parody of his earlier circumstances in World War 1, it was hilarious to whomever watched him cosmically, if he believed in such a thing to begin with, settling down, but not really, and this time, desperately rummaging the forests as the years went by, for a substitute to the drugs, which he found in the form of flora and fauna, that overtime grew used to the pain, but still preferred to be in control of his senses. Having made quite a few enemies by just being who he was, a Nazi, hunters were after him, some Pygmys for one COMPLETE ACCIDENT which he apologized... mentally, to himself, for having butchered the tribe's entire herd of their livestock when all the men went hunting, just out of sport, and also some angry Brazilian man because Americo won the love of his life over, which was fine and all, except he spited the man by inviting him to the wedding, STEALING the ring the man was to give to the woman, and presented it to her as if it was his own. Yep, for some indescribable reason, he got pissed, to think people can be that irrational, which left often times the man pummeled beyond recognition.

The 1950's was a troubling time period particularly, as he was left juggling family life, having to keep his dark vices secret, and thinking of ways to get back to Europe to actually take care of his little problem, while retaining the good aspects of Eitr, but recognized it wouldn't be now, not when he still lived, having fought off many rivals, be it Nazi hunters to Pygmys, and keeping hidden as he made sure his trail was cold, that, and he has to... live with disappointments of children his wife gave birth to. A fat ass girl, whom he made sure to let her know at every opportunity of her defect, and then a twig of a son, whom seriously can't take a punch, and was obsessed with this new thing called computers which came out in the 60's. It was pretty hectic, and the fact that he had to actually take up a job that WASN'T exactly landed on going into the city, which was where he picked up hunting, just his object of hunting WASN'T exactly what he told his family, doing so in the night and away from his family to keep the masquerade of being an Argentinian that became a Brazilian citizen to his family, keeping it all a secret as he led a double life, selling off animal fur and parts for money, among other things like looting the corpses of Nazi Hunters, shaving off his beard to boot as his hair turned into black, that perhaps had to do with Eitr flowing through his veins, he needed to stay incognito, which is what he planned to do, but was prepared just in case if he was definitely discovered beyond something being of but a rumour. It was too perfect, he thought, that he was marked off as dead by the Nazi regime, but he cursed for being too careless enough to strut in through the ratlines and prove his Schutzstaffel membership to even take part in going through it.

That being said, when his children left, he was finally left to his own designs, slowing down in activity, leasing in secrecy, and grew confident that perhaps as the decades passed, maybe they'd actually think he was dead anyways. Spending more time once again with his wife, as she grew feeble with age, whereas Lothar too grew feeble, but on a slower scale, before she passed away from a heart disease. The ONLY time he ever felt sad for someone, besides his father, was her, as she was magical in bed, and was actually one Hell of a woman to fight against another man, Americo thought, but her time passed on. With truly nothing left to bind him to the land, and largely thought dead to the outside world, Americo resolved, why the Hell not go outside and get shit done? He now perhaps has a chance to go into Europe finally, and tie up some loose ends, among other things along the way.

Sample: Vini Vedi Bitches. - (Zulu.)


Last edited by Americo on Thu Apr 10, 2014 10:40 pm; edited 7 times in total
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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Wed Mar 19, 2014 5:45 am

Bumpity bump. Done bitches, or bitches be done, or some other vernacular of Ebonic nature.

Had to fastforward the biography though since it began to take SO MUCH SPACE, that it NEEDS a CONFIRMATION CODE just to now confirm a post for editing. Yep, that's how bad it is. Also defying John despite him wanting MOAR bio, as a plus.

FUCK THE POLI-- [Censored thanks to the administration, in part of the free transparent information* act of Dusk Crusade board]


*Definition may vary.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by John Smith on Thu Mar 20, 2014 9:03 pm

Americo wrote:Name: Lothar-Jürgen Sigismund Xylander. Also known as that Blue Asshole. Officially though, new identity is Americo Santos, still an asshole though despite the name change. Can sometimes be referred to as Senhor Schmidz for reasons unknown among the locals, using Santos and Schmidz interchangeably. Referred to as Space dandy ZUUL by the female strippers of Rio de Janiero due to the butt tattoo he has on his left butt cheek.

Skippy, Jr. it is.

Bullshit wrote:Age: 118 years old, appears younger though, despite some of his insides happens to be aged.

Gender: This one is male like the beautiful rhinoceros whale.

Appearance: His face remains an enigma for rightly so a reason aplenty, for what lay behind a mask an abomination to all that is just and righteous to gaze, below that skin of his. His humanity ever so wretched, but still he retains it. Twisted by the annals of age, he looks deceptively young despite the age he feels inside, his black hair feathery and thin, his skin as gray as a slab of stone with blackish veins that flow underneath his skin, as for the rest of his features, he could be considered manly. He has a lantern jaw which is chiseled with a butt chin that swooned ladies, and was strong enough to set an impression on lesser men that he was power incarnate. Despite his age, his youth is that of alluring features, eyes brown as stool, and hair black as the night. His youth withered and it is akin of life not being extended and potent, as much as stretched to thinness where he can feel wrecked inside. His facial skin may be clear of signs of age, but his hands and the body below is wrinkled, that only through taking off some of the excess skin and stitching himself from the leftovers, squeezing through some makeshift cosmetic surgery, does he look younger, but with a lot of scars as a result of his amateur surgery. What flowing hair exposed is feathery and thin, appearing greasy to the touch, with luster shine, yet despite that, it is fluffy to the touch.

His features though filled with mass which is a mixture of fat and muscles evened out, can be made out to be sagged, and yet still stiff to the touch, as if the only thing keeping him rigid and tough in shape are the ooze that flow through his blood veins, giving him an unnatural lack of skin tone that is red and pink, but instead as unmoving as grey. He possesses only a semblance of his former mass, thinned considerably that he can accurately be curtailed to having a wiry build that in truth is bulked up thanks to the ooze, his fingers spidery and bony, with knuckles especially defined in spite of the gloves he wears on it. Standing a good 6' 1" feet, and weighing only 160 pounds. He happens to no longer possess one of his kidneys, as it was reduced to nutrition for his ooze to digest, as well as he is missing his appendix, and his left pinky finger, which is a vestigial stump.

I think he's a Talon. I want to fight a Talon.

Talons wrote:What he wears to conceal his form are a set of buttoned shirt and trousers with suspenders underneath and over, a mixture of Feldgrau colours and blue, with chemical stains on it. A set of jackboots with water proof finish and rubbery soles, and on his trousers are numerous pockets, with likewise on his buttoned long sleeved uniform-ish shirt, that has a collar. It seems utilitarian in nature, which he prefers given what he prefers to carry. The attire consists of a dress shirt he has, and cargo pants with jackboots worn over it, everyday wear he managed to scour, with suspenders attached to an over-belt. He did though gain a gas mask with lens that reflects whatever it ponders, a one way lens that conceals his eyes, and attached is to a canister filled with breathable chemicals that numbs his bloodlust, keeping him calm and in control, albeit within varying effects. Given his role as a practitioner of Brazilian Jujitsu, he tends to wear a flowing set of robes to let the breeze in, and a pair of sandals. Tends to have a lump on the right sleeve of his pants that half-reaches to his knee.

IF he actually has to take off his mask, he is prepared to make constant use of inhalers, or at least half masks which provides respiration. Come to think of it, he wears whatever he has to wear, so long as it numbs his emotional response with some auxiliary additions, as well as the smell of perfume on him he actually uses to cover up the scent of what would be similar to being embalmed, which makes him smell weird. It is a result of the black ooze inside him that he smells strange, his natural scent as if he was embalmed. One of his eyes, that being his right, due to being rotted since being host to Eitr which he had to scoop out and get rid of since it became nothing more than mush, is in fact a glass eye, which is glossier than his other eye.

I think you mean



William Cobb wrote:Equipment:

Gas Mask: Old fashioned, wears it around his face whenever he can, with a canister he fills with air chemicals that relaxes him. Tends to gather the ingredients from the Brazilian outskirts, and processes it into gaseous form, which would otherwise be toxic to anyone but him whenever he inhales it. The canister is filled with the green coloured gas, which he wears to his back, connected by an umbilical cord to the gas mask.

Inhaler: Otherwise, if left without his gas mask and canister, he tends to carry ten inhalers filled with the same substances, which he inhales from time to time, so his thoughts remain lucid and coherent.

Cigars: Chomping on it gives +5 intelligence. Consume at own risk.... rather, to smoke it. He filled it with his custom ingredients, to achieve the same effects as his inhaler, and to also not appear out of place.

Partridges: He tends to keep some in his pocket, it is best nobody asks where he gains them or why he takes the time to do it. They seem to love nesting in his pocket, or hair alternatively. Must be because Lothar is a bird person.

Glass Eye: It has the same colour as his other eye. Tends to be fitted into the eye socket, but given has a wide enough space, can be used to actually smuggle things around that can be fitted into eyes, such as pins, mini-switch blades that are akin to toothpicks, USB's, etc. etc.

Mk 14: It's a battle rifle he got, civilian variant, which he has chambered for .308 Winchester. Carried around to shoot people, because that's what guns are for. Made with a polished wooden stock and body, instead of the metallic one. Carries around 4 magazines, and has a flip-scope, that he can just push to the side when he wants to iron sight that shit. Usually just uses it to hunt for Pygmys though.

What is this mysterious gas and how is it made?

How many times can he use an inhaler until it runs out?

How many birds does he have?

Why he racist, bro?

Not cool, yo wrote:Race: Advanced Human who is Advanced.

Abilities:

Regenerative Potential: Level 1 (15 posts for major damage).
Physical Abilities: Level 1 (minor supernatural strength, agility, stamina and reflexes).
Durability: Level 1 (minor supernatural durability).

Lothar has a superior control of his sphincter and other orifices to contract into such tightness, that they may as well be environmentally sealed. But that's not something he brags about, or actually showcases. FEEL HIS SHAME. Also, has a Bachelor's degree in Theoretical Physics, and two minors in Theosophy and Ariosophy. Both of which he took as in fact a backdoor into Archaeology, that he failed to qualify into. Due to being interned to Doctor Wernicke, he has an understanding of crude directed augment cybernetics warfare application appropriate to the 1940's era despite the great advance it was in human history, but specializes more on application of the supernatural on human beings, followed by machinery, to which the mortality rate is of no concern, just because he understands how to do it, doesn't mean he cares to do it safely, or for that matter, WAS taught to do it safely. His experience is largely whittled away to mere knowledge as he has remained out of practice for times long, but can perform grafting if needed, just that it wouldn't be safe or precise, considering all he did was experiment, he wasn't in it to save lives. Whatever the case, his skills are better suited towards nicer things, like hunting Pygmys, or birds, or something. He likes hunting.


Outlast is my thing. Wernicke's totally in the asylum right now. You jacking my mission, bro?

We doing this, bro? wrote:He has an understanding of Teutonic occultism, and especially of Nordic occultism, having been in fact one of the perpetrators of the disappearance of Muschelstadt, which he attributes to a summoning gone wrong, or in fact a deliberate sabotage on part of his benefactors. Whatever the case, he is as a result, all the more illuminated on matters esoteric and strange, and is especially professed in Nordic myths.

Aside from those things, he also has intimate understanding of the Nazi system, a good portion of secrets, given he held the rank of SS-Sturmbannführer in the SS-Ahnenerbe sub-regiment, the SS-Schwarzpfeil, including where Hitler's last remaining gilded testicle is, which happens to have been sold to a Brazilian named Pedro Ocampo, whom had a strange fascination with balls, for a mere few dollars worth of cash. How or why for that matter Lothar had that testicle, is a matter of speculation and great debate.

Also has training from his WWI days, and further solidified it into his WWII days, so he knows how to use a gun and shoot someone in the face, that sort of deal. Brushed up further in his combat skills since after WWII by becoming something of a master marksman, through years of hunting Pygmys, animals, and Nazi hunters in jungle environments.

His physique and special attributes are a result of having blackish ichor for blood that replaced his entire physical make up with an enhanced one that increases contraction, eliminates physical fatigue, and is a far more potent source of physical power as it invades his every cells, though still human, owes much of his capabilities, as opposed to skills, to this phenomenon. It automatically makes Lothar an abominable creature, to have become a vassal for such malicious creature that now inhabits his body. His blood is thick and syrupy black, his pink insides turned black, and his entire body from within is perverted into an unholy form that is slowly incubating into something worse despite all these years as a host to the Eldritch ooze, hence his nature as an advanced human, as his wounds are knit by the regenerative black ooze, slow but deliberate, and retains consistency. His skin is quite grey as a result of dark inside that shows from the outside, showing off with grayish exterior if anything which seems sickly and just wrong. An uncanny valley exists in his appearance in which he seems superficial from a glance.

The only thing he can do with the Black Ooze, or so coined up as the ability for the moment, is to solidify it within a suddenly sharp shape of stonish hardness, with whatever designs he has in mind, be it if he would shed it in the first place, which is to say from his blood. To move away by 20 feet from the ooze, would leave it to dissolve within a span of a few nanoseconds and bubble into nothing more than a mere black residue which were even evidence it was there in the first place, hence proximity would be important. The drawbacks though requires blood to be shed, that the potency and effectiveness of whatever he has in mind relies on volume of blood spilled out in a viscous amount.

If someone ingests the blood/black ooze, it is equivalent to taking the most trippiest hallucinogenic drugs, where shit gets weird and wild to their imagination, followed by sheer hysteria and temporary insanity where the default response to it ending is to black out, and later wake up in Morocco the next day, in Casablanca, wearing nothing more than leopard thong, and tongue kissing a fuzzy goat named Hamza. (One of those are literal, that being the trippy drug bit, not the Morocco bit. Who'd actually DRINK his blood anyways? YOU SICKO.)

He has lived with depth perception problems for 30 years, which he has grown used to, as a result, has actually compensated by using his other senses more to make up for the deficiency and the blind spot he has on his right.

Speaks German in his native Hessian accent, passable and decent English with a strange accent that is hard to place as German in origin, whereas his Spanish and Portuguese are neutral yet fluent, though if there would be an origin, he speaks his Spanish akin to an Argentinian, and his Portuguese similar to the Brazilians, given how much time he spent around the two elements.

Level up list:

Spoiler:


1 Soul = Level up in Regenerative potential by one rank, and one extra ability.

3 Souls = Level up in Physical ability by one rank.

5 Souls = Level up in Durability and Regenerative potential by one rank, and two extra abilities.

7 Souls = Level up in Durability, Regenerative potential and Physical ability by one rank, and three extra abilities.

Is your shit like Black Blood? That's what I'm gathering.

Level ups too low, and "extra ability" will need to be expanded on. What is this "extra ability" he gets?

j wrote:Organization: Independent.

Personality: An ancient of war, which he hates to be called, MORE than anything in the world, because he sees himself as young, youthful and hip. In a denial of sorts not only of the fact he is old, but also of the fact he has committed anything WRONG in WWII, or the fact he is too abusive to his children, and seems to favor his grandchildren over them as a complex of favoritism spurred and he has caused a lot more problems than he could fix. Lothar is a man, that is bitter, after all those years, suddenly the world is run by morons, idiots, and softies as he thinks, and that he has to HIDE just because he did his damn job, and that was to shoot people like what a good soldier would do. Poisoned thoughts seeping from the hideous condition he exists in, becoming something of a maniac and clinically insane by all medical definitions as a result of his rather unhinged grasp in reality, and vast delusions of grandeur. Sinking into manic episodes, given the poisonous influence he has from his blood, that he has to actually take something to numb his bloodlust, and further his episodes, to remain a functional member of society in his own way.

He isn't exactly endeared to those of self-determination origins, and thinks WWII was in fact a blast, and ethics a useless constraint to be tossed out. It was something he has developed along the line of his occupation as the officer within the Occult subdivision within the Schutzstaffel, and as a member of the Thule Society. Both of which he was under an oath to perform to exacting specification, to perform human trials, experiments, and pursuits in which he thoroughly enjoyed as something interesting and amusing, given how different the reactions he was met with when the face of horror and agony dawns upon him by the victims behind a glass panel. He is not apologetic, or regretful of his actions, aside from the fact he couldn't do more, and he wouldn't be afraid to voice out these facts were he brought to light. He was a man of the uniform, and he is proud for it. He has no apologies for his atrocities, as he was desensitized to such things having done it en masse, and often enough to consider it as natural as breathing, with no hesitation for it.

His hedonism knows no bound, for he sees life as something to enjoy in his later years while he fled to Brazil, progressing further into thinking that the world is his to do away with, as just a man, who is there, to walk and live for as long as he can, enjoying himself while he exists. A fact not lost on his family, that are forever regretful he is in fact aging quite slowly, that he may in fact even become a great great grandfather, and possibly the oldest known human in modern history. A loathing which spurred from his abusive and particularly cruel nature, as he loves to mock and degrade whomever does not meet his arbitrary standards.

A believer in Nietzschian philosophy, just the Ubermensch part, not really the rest, which is pretty much glossed over, he tends to focus on more productive knowledge gathering ventures, and tends to keep quiet about his past. He IS a Nazi after all, and also having witnessed a few horrors in his time, considering it better not to impart knowledge, and to take it to his grave. What he knows, found nowhere but in his mind, of the intimate working of the Nazi regime, as the few survivors, a fact not lost on Xylander, that he self-inflates his own self-worth because of it, narcissistic as a result as well.

Sardonic, cruel, intelligent without being brilliant, hedonistic, somewhat depraved, and brutal, who just so happens to love his grandchildren, and hates his children, for a twist of irony. Also a habitual smoker of marijuana and crack. He may not be a good man, in fact, he may be an evil man according to his victims whom lived (which aren't many), and has in fact fell victim to his own ego and hubris, one thing that can never be said about Lothar, is that he is anything but introspective, and knows right from wrong, he just makes a clear distinction he prefers to do the wrong, moral thing, if he benefits from it on a gratifying scale.

Also loves his pet shark more than he loves his family.

Speaks with a harsh tongue that is guttural and full of hate, ferocity and anger, even though he is calm, he sounds angry, hateful, or ready to commit genocide.

Character alignment is Neutral Awesome.

Rank: Nazi War Criminal & Retiree.

He should be an old man in a wheelchair. That would make this character so much funnier.

I was in the war, youngings! wrote:Biography: There was a time where Lothar fought, and he fought against vast myriads of many creatures alike to him with a single goal akin to a Luftwaffle/Kamikaze pilot ready to crash into a great sphere of fuzzy exterior, with many millions actually following pursuit towards the objective. Lothar at the time believably was young, if that was ever the case. In his mind was to simply crash his speedy harness straight into the sphere, as millions plummeted and died off. It was a great tragedy and chaos that not even Lothar remembers, for he has become one to fertilize the egg, whereas the rest of his brethren were DEAD. As in as dead as one gets, thrown away, deceased, killed. It was a finality without a continuation, and he happened to reap the benefit.

Months went on without end that he procured and became one with the egg, incubating and fermenting into something of a love-child made from the communion of two, as he sagged into life, slowly coming into fruition till the mother vessel he inhabited swelled up in the size of the belly, till he was ready to be shat out through a process known as birthing. One that would take doctors a while to pull out, for he was a great fierce mighty fighter that has resisted their insidious pulls out of her folds, till they had to actually just use Caesarian to extract him out instead, where his mother was rehabilitated. The place where the glorious Lothar was born into? Wiesbaden, which was in Hesse. He was a lad of blonde disposition, and brownish eyes, and it was in the latest 1800's where the era was ending where upon he has come to life in a hospital of modern convenience for its time. His birth, other than the hard to extract method, was relatively without complications, relatively. And by relatively without complications, his mother died as a result of the Caesarian, which left the father a widower. He placed no blame on Lothar, but actually saw him as a worthy legacy to raise on his own, despite the sadness and irrationality in his heart that the boy was to blame for the death, but the cold hard German rationalism in him told him that it were the doctors to blame for their sloppiness.

He grew up in the relatively small city with not much information about him aside from whomever spoke about Lothar, mentioned that he was a cunning kid, sly and rather sharp, but nothing brilliant or someone who stood out much. His school is likewise the same, where he learnt to proclaim his allegiance to the Kaiser, because that was kind of the thing to do at the time, which he did, without question.
Got here and have to stop for the night. Will resume tomorrow.

His father was a soldier that fought in the Franco-Prussian war against the French, those sore losers, which inspired the boy to actually learn much about his father's crafts starting from an early age, picking up a passion in hunting, which he thought was far better to do than school. His father had no problem giving his son a bolt-action rifle he used to hunt rabbits with, an old Mauser rifle that he showed how to maintain, and fire, which were plenty of little bastard critters to shoot in the country side. Developing his skills as he does, and ignoring his studies which actually sabotaged him later on in life, especially as he hasn't learnt to develop much social graces he needed, besides something of a superficial level that made him seem insincere to some. A consequence of his dangerous venture into what his father would've thought a good time to spend with his son, as his craft was perhaps the few things he had in common with the lad.

It would devolve so badly, that he would in fact spend time going out to hunt more often than not, at first, during his days in public school when he was around 10, around his father's presence, but as he rose to teenagehood, it was soon without him. The transition was slow, and he was becoming well practiced with the gun. He was a warrior at heart, and delighted in the patience that came from shooting mammals from afar, and getting back his bounty. His father though proud, had to consider the costs, and also the obsession his son had because of his hunting with shooting things, that he had to consider a prospective career soon, and should go to college. Maybe become a brilliant scientist or the like, something that Lothar did not approve of, but relented into pursuing.

Life was hard after that, because he did not get to follow his passion, estranged from his peers but the years wore away his lack of social skills through interaction, that he soon picked up wits from being socially inclined, which did not serve him much given the relatively short time he had to put it to good use. Only two years left, where his friends would not matter much as he devoted his time to studying, quietly missing those days where he frolicked freely, only giving secondary concerns to his assignments and knowledge bestowed. Even then, he was an able learner, and displayed his proficiency as a result of it. Picking up information that didn't do much to put a good impression on his academic pursuit given the years of neglect from him pursuing hunting, and also due to earlier puberty, spending time with the opposite sex courting them in a behaviour unsuitable of conduct in Germany. Nonetheless, the most he has gotten off with was a stern talking to by the fathers of his potential conquests.

It was THEN, a great terror occurred across Europe, as a filthy man by the name of Gavrilo Princep, in cold blooded treachery, pulled out a gun and shoot a defenseless woman, whom stared in naked fear, before shooting her husband. That man he shot? He was the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and Gavrilo Princep in a sense, spread conflict throughout Europe. The news that went to Lothar left him crying because Franz Ferdinand in a sense, was like a brother he never knew, except he didn't know, and it was more to do with the fact he cut onions than actually crying for the man. Actually, he didn't care for Franz Ferdinand much, since Lothar wasn't even Austrian, he traces his origins back to Frisia if anything, the only expression he gave out were surprise. After all, what sort of rational man shoots a nobleman AND his wife? The situation nonetheless progressed to a point that it boiled like a cauldron of oil, before finally the fires of war broke out. Patriotism was high, and Lothar was young yet able and his father too old and unable to join another war.

Days of begging went by as the recruitment opened up to join the German Imperial military, till Lothar managed to strike a deal with his father, that he will put his expertise to skill as a sniper, where he'll at least be in relative safety from the battle. That was a lie, what Lothar did was join as an infantryman, with exception made for him to actually snipe IF needed, despite him being overqualified. Shipping out not into the Western front, as hostilities were breaking out between the French and Germans, but rather, it would be to the later Eastern front, which was FAR more reflexive in combat than all other terrains, without the static lines of defensive warfare, but one which was mobile. Against an enemy that cared not for casualties, but only to march forward in one direction -- the Slavic people, especially the Russians whom have roots in being Slavic, or some other nonsense that Lothar did not care to make the distinction of. They were ALSO another bunch of sore losers, losing to the Japanese yellow monkeys in the Russo-Japanese war of 1905, which Lothar wanted to just show as any other man, that it can be done again. This was his battle, and his expertise fighting in grassy or forested terrains proved to his advantage, that despite being but a soldier, he fought like the Jaegars.

To put it to point, he just went to war, shoot people up, shot some more people, some more, even more, and then another bunch. It was getting repetitive, but he was so good at it, he never once considered his peers whom were too busy suffering from shell shock to continue. Cowards he called them, with stomachs as weak and as flaccid as rotten celery, he would state. They were weak wretched worth not a iota of respect, that he would be loathed by friend and foe alike, known to the Russians as Bezumnyy Morzh, for his rampage that spanned the lines, taking them out in swathes abundant and in skillful shots before they can react when he was before them in the vast thickets of forests, granted the enemies he charged were given rifles with no bullets, and the other Russians were given bullets but no rifles. In his maddened tongue, frothing from the mouth screaming obscenities at the enemy and their mothers, he shot a good number of Russians in battle, charging suicidally into their lines that has earned him many commendations, and as much scornful lectures as possible from the officers, as well as saving the then unknown medic, Doctor Wernicke, whom the two had a friendship, as he was a person that Lothar can actually stand as a person. Lothar, more often than not, came back only to receive medical attention from Doctor Wernicke given the lucky Russian or two with bullets AND guns managed to fire into him, or bayonet him, he would kill them in rage. It was insanity made manifest in the battlefield, where his inner animal manifested, he went bloodcrazed and maniacal, and yet to the people back in Berlin, was seen something akin to inspiring morale within the men for his suicidal bravery.

Promoted a good number of times, but also given preferential treatment given if he were to die, it would plummet morale in his battalion, he was eventually moved to the headquarters when he reached the rank of Staff Sergeant Major, as an adjutant to the Colonel commanding the specific direction of the Eastern front forking straight towards the Balkans as the Austro-Hungarian forces couldn't pick up much slack. It was boring, dull, and he couldn't go towards his recently developed bloodthirsty passion he found in shooting another man, as if it was as simple and enjoyable as hunting. Something his father, a veteran of the Franco-Prussian war, one whom became a pacifist and loathed to see his only son away, worried about Lothar developing. It was a fear coming into fruition.

Lothar complained to as many offices as possible over his position as Staff Sergeant Major, and adjutant whom wasn't out in the frontlines where good men are fighting, but his face was too well known given his reputation he has developed, to actually risk seeing him killed off. The man who refuses to stay dead, omitting the parts where he has done such feats out of sheer rage and hysterical fits, as opposed to courageously charging enemies as a patriot which he is portrayed to be, a fact not lost on Lothar, much to his distaste. Staying back as a trophy officer, where later he was commissioned to actually oversee the training of soldiers through boot camp in Bavaria, and instill propaganda, would learn through many communiques that Doctor Wernicke was doing fine out there, yet the war was seeing no ending in sight.

The next few years saw no commendable actions done by Lothar, only a disgruntled soldier denied a chance to go out to fight alongside his brethren, where he'd bled and so much as to die with them. Body toll counted in thousands, soon eclipsing into the million territory. His grimness furthered, and he took out his frustration by turning to the drink, the cheap Ersatz type of drinks that flowed into the market. It may not have tasted as great as Bavarian beer, but at least it did the job of getting him to lose his wits, and forget whatever happened at night, only to wake to the next morning to do his work with a throbbing hangover, spending his paycheck on such things, as he was further disgusted to learn that officers dined on fine food, when he convened with them, while everyone else were miserable what with the stale canned food they were given, and failing that, bread and rum, as opposed to steak and wine the higher ups ate. It was true, the same can be said of the citizenry as well, fighting for good pieces of food, or eating the horrid Ersatz substitutes that were a desperate attempt to keep supplies up. Even after Russia pulled out of WWI to take care of their Red Revolution problem, which focused the entire front over to the West, that despite the extra troops put there, the Americans, with their non-war weary soldiers made for a tidal wave of attacks alongside the British and the French, which Americo didn't even get an opportunity to fight against, all he was made to do was to speak publically on the importance of joining the army to those that aren't even in it, for whatever reasons, that somehow they wouldn't have gotten in through the draft, which was leased in restrictions. Still, they lost.

He was disillusioned, which carried over to the end of the war, which just broke him. He didn't know what to do, when he heard Germany surrendered, his funding gone with every cash he had spent on his alcohol addiction, the government just letting all that sacrifice go to waste. To put it in the lightest of terms, he was NOT pleased with those dicks, and turned his frustrations out by joining protests, and public speaking, as well as pulling status as a war veteran. He didn't have anyone to go back to, truly he was alone with only the crowd as his solace of output, his father was dead, it happened in the middle of the war, from a heart attack, and his home, he didn't know what to go back to there, instead, having sought opportunities in Berlin, hence where it acted as a second home for him. He wanted to blame someone, ANYONE! Whereas some blamed the Jews, Lothar too did so, but further hated and LOATHED the Communist simply because they vouched for the same principles as the Russians, as Lothar himself stood as a subscriber to the then famed many political groups of Germany that sprouted up to fill the void as the Kaiser ran off with the tail in between his legs. As a Right-winger, he wanted strict measures, and was actually shared in his sentiments with other fellows, largely apathetic to the meteoric rise of the Nazi party, that it was only through the invitation of a friend he thought had forgotten him, Doctor Wernicke, whom still didn't forget Lothar saving his life, and also the fact he was LITERALLY right there, coincidentally in front of the man's path, offered him a place in the party. Though put off, after some violent displays by the Nazi party, such as the Night of Tears, Lothar joined hesitantly afterwards, after much convincing by the man, as he was told that he would actually be put into a college, under Doctor Wernicke's recommendation, get a job, and also a spot in the party as a member, all those grievances shared with the man that were to be fulfilled just like that. Plus the Nazi's got rid of the Communists, which WAS a plus in Lothar's books.

He joined the marches with his head down, attended the rallies, and the speeches made by the then Corporal Adolf Hitler, whom was at first sent to infiltrate the Nazi party, just ended up joining them instead. That same man he laughed at in the newspaper in private, when he tried to set up a revolt through the Beer rebellion, as many called it. And now? He is watching the man with the silly mustache talk about his struggle, German manifest destiny, living space, and other radical concepts that Lothar couldn't care about really. He was more concerned about his education, and fulfilling his father's wishes. As time went on, and as he performed things in the party like campaigning around the street, it would be till Adolf Hitler became Chancellor, that Wernicke made good on his promise, that by government admission, which is dominated by the Nazis at that point, he was admitted into the Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität despite the fact a third of the staff were kicked, and majority of students gotten rid of given they were critics of the Nazi regime. Lothar studied his subjects, satisfied as Wernicke in fact by extent, gave him his life back, and would well have repaid the favour of Lothar saving his life back in the Great War.

Meanwhile, the Nazi regime, it was continuing to rise meteorically, till their word became law, and essentially what semblance of opposition was silenced in a number of actions. Actions were culminating in that the Third Reich would take Czechoslovakia to 'protect' its citizens, as well as other feats of gobbling up territory, like taking Austria, that useless land that ACTUALLY got Germany into the war in the first place. Lothar though TRIED to ignore these things happening, and continue unto his studies, which he did, qualifying to be moved underneath Wernicke's position, as he now retains the position of Colonel. That was after Lothar graduated from his University with his degrees, enough so to satisfy the man who wanted to find a use for Lothar, to pay off his debt if anything. Honorable and still grateful, DESPITE Lothar's assurance he has more than enough paid off for his debts. Not having any of that, Wernicke did one further and pushed an application AND recommendation for Lothar to join the Schutzstaffel, to be underneath him, but nonetheless, well paid and would be having his expertise put to the test as his aide. Questioningly, joined the Schutzstaffel, had his ancestry searched and was given leeway into joining, despite having some questionable heritage, thanks to Wernicke having friends in high places, as it further endeared the two to one another as comrades whose friendship was forged in the fires of the battlefield. To think his acts of reckless valour had secured him a future he thought he didn't have, to save him from living in the streets where inflation was high, and money might as well be used for making fire rather than actually spending it for anything.

FASTFORWARDING a little bit, since there is beginning to be a lot of texts, Lothar joined the Schutzstaffel's Ahnenerbe, the child unit which is known as the SS-Schwarzpfeil, underneath Wernicke's direction which is actually underneath Commandant Strausse's administration, performed dissections of all kinds of dissidents, as they worked high up in the now conquered Denmark in search of furthering the Teutonic agenda they had, moved up there given Wernicke wanting the man close, and also to put his Ariosophy to good use, but other than that, he wasn't even a doctor, barely excused that only his willingness to learn and experiment as well as professionalism got him by and far, what with actually being taught by Wernicke as his understudy, to learn medical science of sorts to something of a competent man. It was a kind of thing that was all funded by a very high ranking Nazi member, that as privileged members of the SS and parts of the experimentation team, were entrusted to know that they were vampires that used the Nazi regime to further their goals, and wanted to actually turn the Third Reich into something akin to a wonderland of the Supernatural and abominable. Lothar kept quiet, and yet because he did, others voiced their concern. They were swept away, with Wernicke telling Lothar not to speak dissent, or else he'll find himself in a Concentration Camp, which he WASN'T planning on going into anyways.

There was a lot of backroom politics and presence of the supernatural, particularly the vampires, whom were interested in seeing what scientific experiments can be achieved for generally the intangible idea of more power, whatever costs it may be. And to do so, they were to delve into Nordic myths, to explore such things that grant their whims. Among which they've begun to try to tap into Asgard, or at least FIND a way to get in there through use of artifacts to garner. Many accidents occurred, and many deaths happened, leaving behind only those with liquified brains, to the soldiers selected to get in there. The now Major Xylander, decided that they were doing things wrong, that perhaps they should not rely on ancient technology, but profane into more taboo things like reverse-summonings, using methods to gain unholy abominations, to instead actually transport them into Asgard where they may fulfill their "Aryan" ambitions, among other abstract and according to Lothar, was a big waste of time since they don't know what they'd find there to begin with.

Wernicke disapproved, not that he cared much, since he was, as far as he put it bluntly, was more concerned about other research, like application of nanotechnology through directed warfare, which is far more achievable, given he was a genius in the field, as opposed to looking through the supernatural to win the war. The whole Asgard deal was a masterminded plot by the Commandant Strausse, whom as member as the Thule Society, sought to always gain access into that realm and advance knowledge if not his purview of abilities. Wernicke had plans, great plans, having completed some sort of Engine that can harness the mental state of the subject for directed cybernetics warfare application, among other nonsense that Lothar didn't care much for.

Major Xylander on the other hand, given his good looks, and the fact he didn't run his mouth off to dissent, or write angry letters, gained the approval of the vampires overseeing the whole thing, whom as he learnt later on, that vampires were largely responsible to many things the Nazi's have come to do, and in fact, feast on the Concentration Camp victims daily to sate their appetites, as the Third Reich is considered the Unholy Heaven to them, what with the fact they compose of the top leadership in the Nazi regime. Lothar guessed they had plans to turn the entire world into some kind of a cattle farm, with humans being their cattle, as they live eternally as their domineering overlords, yet still, remained quiet out of love for his new found passion, which is opening people up and sticking machinery into them, or to perform incisions like placing in werewolf kidneys and stitching them up to study the effects. This was his only one chance into actually making something out of himself, that he belonged somewhere, DOING something, though he'd rather be out there in the front, he still liked to actually see to it his experiments come to fruition. When not working with Doctor Wernicke to experiment on the Concentration Camp prisoners hauled in as test subjects, he studied much about archaeology, and Teutonic rituals to try to actually invoke a reverse-summoning, in which the person in question is transported. That though never manifested to a return result, only making the person disappear. That his next task, was to make a two-way summoning, or at least open up a portal, using the same principle. That summoning often consisted of using blood as a catalyst as blood is the silver of the soul as he had learnt from the ancient texts, which his overseers were glad to oblige with as fuel. His barbarism knew no bounds, with the fresh blood carted in from the suffering souls, the prisoners of the Nazi's, were drained of every drop and squeezed into canisters to fuel the thing, the victims especially left alive to give the blood more substance, as suffering was only lullaby to Lothar's ears, gratifying him to yearn more for it as a way to subside his desire for warfare, or to fight as his insatiable bloodlust impressed the vampire overseers, chief among them the Commandant Strausse, as a man who is willing to get things done, that perhaps he should even join their ranks as a vampire, given his lack of empathy for the prisoners, and his professionalism. It helps that Lothar has gained the admiration of a female vampire among their ranks, as the two were quite close.

The portal project came underway, as they decided to form a paradoxical summoning which opens two ways to which remains consistently open to form a portal, what with through exhaustive blood running out quickly. But that was more than enough time to try to get into the portal, to SEE if they have opened a way into Asgard or not, to reap the fruits of their labours, with the belief perhaps they'll get SOMETHING out of it, maybe something as powerful as Gungnir or Mjolnir, not that it mattered much, since the whole experiment as Lothar would put it, was just satisfying the maniacal dreams of an egomaniac narcissist whom envisioned himself leading the fabled dead of Valhalla. What they got were instead was but a mere moment of calm, followed by instant spilling of black, horrors in geometrically alien shapes emerged out of the portal swarming over to every man armed with a gun, as that left a prisoner among the Nazi's, whom was about to be sliced up, to take the opportunity to escape into the portal after he found ample chance to unbound himself. Lothar never learnt what happened to the man, whom re-appeared in America later on after the war, altered in that he can warp, that nobody believed him when he spoke of what the Nazi's were doing, dismissed as nothing more than a hysterical Holocaust survivor, whom died maniacal and swearing on his deathbed the evils of Lothar Xylander, and the vampiric conspiracy, as well as his time spent in an alien place where SOMETHING actually came out with the horrors.

To the present matter at hand, Lothar was cut down, and left for dead, as he tried to crawl away from the scene, with the horrors murdering and savaging the guards, as well as even pressing down the vampires. His open wound seeped, as he reached for the Luger pistol, shooting the lingering horror that stayed behind from realms nightmare and beyond to death in his last spite against the enemy, it was all he could manage, before the creature collapsed on him. Falling to unconsciousness afterwards, as he felt the weight, and something ELSE flowing right into him. Fading vision seeing the horrors vanish as they lingered away from the portal, and the bloodbath that ensued had fortunately saw to it that whatever he glimpsed, there was no Doctor Wernicke, only him, and other laboratory staff of this disastrous experiment, as conveniently they were actually gone, something felt off, what with the whole thing having perhaps been orchestrated to kill everyone working on the project, there was a saboteur, but he didn't know whom. Feeling his body tighten, as pain surged underneath his skin, he was soon shot into consciousness, filled with vigour, stained in black, he decided to save everything by firing unto the catalyst. Spilling the blood out of the glass, as it quickly fizzled out, that now with the waning energy losing out immediately, it sucked Lothar into the portal, and spat him out at an hour at the crater of the former laboratory by the town where he soon blacked out. Awakening with wounds knit, and with new-found life, and a purpose anew.

Later attempts to question him, and to the status of whatever happened when found by the Wehrmacht, was met with tight lips, as he felt sick to the bone, pained and refilled with vigour if not new poisonous life. Younger for it, despite the nerve wracking pain that surged throughout his veins, feeling as if every blood vessel was being expanded, and growing paler for it. Ill and left to many interrogations, and medicine that dulled his senses, found to be harboring a remnant of a long bygone age in the form of Eitr, that infested into him as the creature managed to infect him with it, that were it left alone, would have disappeared too alongside the horrors. His vampiric superiors back in Berlin were FURIOUS that he actually let Commandant Strausse die, and that Colonel Wernicke disappeared. The vampires have lost a knowledged member of their inner circle, and instead, had to rely on a man whose expertise wasn't as proficient as the then genius Wernicke. Said same Wernicke later on Lothar learnt had defected to the Americans, without ever having contacted him, to do something with nanotechnology or something as silly as machines so tiny to the eyes, they may as well be invisible. Whatever the case, at least he realized his dreams, but Lothar, he kept quiet out of their old friendship, despite the implications of the defection.

That being said, Lothar was stuck over to recount time and time again every detail he can remember, and spill out his blood for study, which has attuned itself over to him. Many a times the vampires dabbled into the thought that perhaps they should just dissect Lothar, kill him for his failure or the like, but relented, as they required his knowledge of the Occult, what he saw, and to replicate his processes, which he said he will show, but will not partake in it given the insanity that entailed. He was met with being told that it is fine, as they actually had other plans for creating portals, that perhaps to find ways to turn it into moving soldiers across continents within a span of a second. The sort of plan Wernicke would've loved. Practical application of Nazi Occult science. Now acting as a consultant, with what would be a gun pointed to his head, as he was under watch, Lothar was in constant pain, often times and homicidal as well, feeling the need to take more sedatives to keep him from breaking out into homicidal rage and murder people, as he felt further the change within him incubate into something hideous. His skin lost its pinkness and colour, as he became unsaturated. The transition went through in spite of how short lived his position as consultant was, territories were being taken apart in a two pronged assault between British-American forces from the West, and the bloody onslaught of Soviets from the East, and with a lack of practical application achieved given the fact horrors were being unleashed a little TOO much for their liking, and even the presence of the True Cross starting to stir up, the vampires gave Lothar an order. To flee with one of their own kind to Brazil, said one of their own kind was, as Lothar knew, was nothing more than an overglorified little puppy who'd watch him like a hawk on steroids. Being wiser, he agreed, and thanked the vampires for the opportunity. He never learnt what happened to the vampires though when he left through a ratline first to Spain, and then to Portugal, and from Lesbia-- Lisbon, he just went arrived to Brazil, where he was met with huehuehue, Carnival, and some other weird ass shit. Also a statue that beckoned for a hug. Deeper still he went into the jungles, slew the vampire watcher whom had a luggage filled with 'wartime aid contents', and with the Nazi gold he had in his briefcase, some good amount of cash, fake ID's, a pistol, and a bunch of other things like Hitler's gilded golden testicle, which he sold over the years, he settled down deep within the Amazon forests and away from prying human eyes, where he can bide his time. The vampire was the only obstacle for Lothar from the Thule Society, unto total freedom from the Nazi regime remnant.

That would be the end of his story, except not. The end of the war actually came afterwards, Lothar made sure to not contact the vampires, never really continued his research, and despite all of that, was hunted by Nazi Hunters whom came after 1945, vengeful Holocaust victims, and later Pygmys, for his widespread indiscriminate slaughter of their kind in an attempt to pass time, all thanks to that prisoner, hysterical and having survived by plunging into the portal which screwed up, gave vivid descriptions of Lothar Xylander, which some people reported having seen him in the forests without knowledge of his exact whereabouts. Also by an angry man since he just stole his girlfriend from him, married her, and even invited said man to their wedding in the ultimate form of spite. Years passed on, he hid, settled down, and lived off of the Nazi gold he had, having made sure to launder it into something less offensive, and more generic into normal gold ingots, without the Swastika. He fought off whomever he can, sold off his gold, had kids with the woman, whom turned out to be a practitioner of Brazilian Jujitsu, which he learnt to enhance his bedding experience, grew to loathe the children his wife bore, but grew to also love the children his children bore, as their grandpa. He didn't really age, whereas his wife did, and still, he didn't stop loving her since she was flexible. She only considered that perhaps Americo was a vigorous man, or that perhaps he had help from some revolutionary German medicine, as Lothar lied to her that he was from Germany, and was a doctor. She loved him enough not to try to rat him out, and what they both had was something special, he honestly loved her, that the only other woman to have inspired this sort of passion, and was just as hot, as Americo bluntly put it, was the vampiress, but she is probably dead, or something. He honestly didn't care much to give that a thought, focusing more on the presence.

Though he sunk soon into obscurity, shaving off his beard, so that he may be harder to identify, as his hair became blacker instead of blonde thanks to Eitr, Lothar donned the mantle of Americo Santos, and sometimes, just takes his grand children's identity to get around, particularly the son of his son. He hated his children on the other hand, since his daughter is a fat girl so full of vanity, seeing herself as the epitome of all that is hot despite being obese, and is always in denial despite how politely Lothar puts it that she is fat (and by polite, as rudely as possible, by calling her things like gravy tits, land whale, and fatass), as for his son, a twig of a brat that he hates since he was a complete nerd who doesn't even share his father's interests in hunting, preferring to do nerdy things like get into computers... computers, right, last he heard, they were oversized machinery with so many cogitators and processors, and were as unreliable as a Russian prostitu-- so, he didn't get along with either of his progeny. And they did things so hard to please him, later drifting apart from the two. Lothar on the other hand, shared many carnal nights with his wife, and many hunts at day to kill the tribals deep in the darkest Amazon, in the quint little village he stayed in that was relatively uncharted. He still has no idea how his son attained a computer, but then again, he wasn't really paying much attention when the lad just went to the city by bus, was missing for a few days, and came back, without ever batting an eye to the boy's disappearance.

Either ways, Lothar was horrible to them, and when they left, he actually threw a party that he got the cabin all to himself and his wife. His wife on the other hand, kept quiet, only to be later killed by a poisonous discharge from Americo in their one time bed time antics, whom was horrified to learn that he no longer shot straight, but lethal discharge instead that ravaged the insides. His child making fluids were made into poisonous black, and as a result, saddened, genuinely actually SAD for someone not him, he buried his wife in the outskirts so nobody would know, and vowed to never marry again. Not that it means he wouldn't actually sleep around, he actually made a loophole on his OWN promises. He also tended to spend time with his grandchildren, whom were much more in the vision of what he wanted for an offspring, and regards them as sons and daughters he never had, right in front of his own children's faces. They found it rather weird their grandpa though didn't look old, to which their parents assured them that he is just like that because probably of a skin condition, or cosmetic surgery. Forever unaware that he is actually a Nazi, censoring any thoughts that in fact, he is human, but barely. Yep, he was actually justified on being old because of a skin condition, which just gave Americo a metaphorical aneurysm, because of how stupid his children are, on their justifications.

Fastforward hunting Nazi Hunters, Pygmys, and vengeful victims, finding ways to spice up his fun, and actually sinking further deeper into drug abuse to cope with his growing disease of Eitr that is ravaging his body and taking over him, finding that he needs to consume more and more chemicals to retain coherency in thoughts, his boredom eventually gave way, as he looked onwards to the uncertain future. He lived a full life, could quietly accept dying, having never been caught, living off of Nazi gold. That he can turn a pull a pin off of his grenade and clamp his jaws down on the explosive, killing himself, or, in fact, make up for all the times left unspent in the world, to venture beyond, and actually forge his destiny. He opted for the latter, and decided to make something out of himself.

Sample: Vini Vedi Bitches. - (Zulu.)[/quote]
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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Thu Mar 20, 2014 9:39 pm

SO MUCH WRITTEN DOWN. That aside, I shall edit stuff, like bio may also change since that shit looks like it's trippy, so changes will follow, including sphincter explanation which is natural, which has nothing to do with black shit, though all shit is black, except those that aren't.

Do you accept pasta? Yes? No? Potato?

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Fri Mar 21, 2014 5:55 pm

Changelog 1337.

- Revised history.

ALSO, no more Wernicke, RUINING MUH FUN. And uh... punted out surgical things, because that's a load of Jimmies left unrustled. Oh, and since you're interested in his sphincters for some reason, that's just a natural thing he can do.

His blood is indeed black, and possesses qualities of its own. Extra abilities on the other hand, I have NO idea what it'll be for now, so I figure once I get it, I'll just write it down for later for you to review or some such, so yeah. ALSO, increased level up soul numbers, so all is cool like a fonzie.

Being born in the beginning of the modern age tends to make someone assured of their prejudices, YEP.

So uh, YEAAAAAAAH, he seems to have dysfunctions at a cost. Also he isn't Skippy, and for Talon... this Owl man makes no comments, for that'd infringe on some confidential information.

So, potato and potato, done and done.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by John Smith on Sat Mar 22, 2014 8:17 pm

I'd prefer if you put the new skills here, but if you really don't have an idea for them yet, I'll let it go.

Resuming from Save Point.

Loading wrote:He grew up in the relatively small city with not much information about him aside from whomever spoke about Lothar, mentioned that he was a cunning kid, sly and rather sharp, but nothing brilliant or someone who stood out much. His school is likewise the same, where he learnt to proclaim his allegiance to the Kaiser, because that was kind of the thing to do at the time, which he did, without question. Okay, may not go THAT far, but when he grew up as a child, he was taught to hunt by his father, in an attempt to link the two into something of having a common ground, and it being an excuse for the papa war veteran to fill the void in his heart by actually teaching his child his trade, which is just shooting things from a distance, which paradoxically, DESPITE instilling love for firearms in his son, he actually expects him to go to college, like a good tyke, and achieve a doctorate or something of that sort. It wouldn't be something he actually achieved as he grew up and attended school, and later the German equivalent of high school, that despite those things, the Great War broke out. His initial development as a teenager was impressionable and patriotic thanks to the teachings instilled in him both, from his father who is a Franco-Prussian war veteran, his love for firearms which is a LITTLE too affectionate, and peer pressure. All three of them were WONDERFUL things considering anyone that stayed at home, probably in the basement or some such were cowards, pansies, or Nancy boys. Now Lothar wasn't going to have any of that, and joined his graduating high school class en route to the war, his father's protest and his career be damned, well, he planned to pick up his career anyways, after all, huge talks of the war ending in Christmas time, or even before it, were spoken much and loudly.

Now how did the war start? It was due to the coward, Gavrilo Princep, whom shot the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, as they have survived several subsequent assassinations in Serbia, having slain the two young ones in their honeymoon, and embarking on terrorism, or the like, which is really assassination. Using this as a pretext to actually take out Serbia from the equation, after all, if they hadn't take them on, what's the worst that can happen? It's not like Serbia would be later on, maybe a century or so almost later, would become a xenophobic nation which considers those that commit genocide as heroes, NOPE, not at all, it's pretty unlikely. Anyways, so Germany, at Austria's insistence, DESPITE Bismarck's policies to retain a static position in which Germany would be an Imperial power without being bogged down and dragged along to be so involved, has been ignored by the then Kaiser Wilhelm II. Said Kaiser, ambitious to leave a lasting legacy, opted to join a war that would be disastrous in the end for Germany, especially with the maneuvering undertaken, which though the Schleiffan plan was smart, it ignored political ramifications of trying to encircle France through a neutral nation.

However that's not where Lothar was, in the onset of the war, he trained to be a marksman, joining the Eastern front in a battle against the Russians, Serbs, and Romanians alongside the more inept Austro-Hungarian forces. It enlightened him in many ways that war wasn't romantic, but he was easily adept at adapting into the situation, unlike his peers whom were cowardly, Lothar discovered he in fact liked the thrill of combat despite the casualties and near death experience, getting something akin to the combat high. To put it into perspective, he outperformed his peers when it came to the war, deriving enjoyment and seeing it as a smashing old time, whereas the rest were horrified by the violence and brutality of modern warfare, as a good number washed out given the bloody results of charging across, and especially seeing the Russians being killed en masse. They were inefficient, not enough firearms or ammunition for each soldier, some were given rifles, and some were given clips, and only a rare few were given both. The Russians fared better though against the Ottomans, but not against the Germans whom turned the situation into something that is more lopsided to their favour. For some good years Lothar spent fighting there in the more flexible warfare, as opposed to the static trenches of the West, watching his friends die, vengeful, killing the enemies that resulted in the death of his comrades. He got medals for killing enemies that just wanted to surrender, for things he wasn't ORDERED to do, for his initiative, and for being brave beyond compare, as opposed to being a victim to his own natural combat high. He racked up ranks, accolades, and even some admirers back home at his home town, which is partly due to propaganda in that village, as he was known in the Eastern front, gaining a nickname as the Zloy Medved to the Russians, doesn't help that he shot men whom were inadequately armed, which later escalated in difficulty as they begun gaining appropriate munitions. Difficulty went from normal to hard, and the war was dragged down still where the Russians merely threw men after men on the Germans and the Austro-Hungarians in repetition to achieve strategic dominance, which in cases in doing so, among other strategies, worked out.

It was a long bloody career, where in part of the dwindling circumstances in Russia, they pulled out thanks to the Communist revolution, the Germans smuggled in Lenin and his revolutionaries into Russia, which resulted in their ultimate withdrawal. Free to commit forces elsewhere, the Germans were moved into the Western front, veterans of the Eastern front, among them chiefly the Staff Sergeant Major Xylander, fought in a grueling battle of attrition that irritated him to no end in the bloody conflict of the trenches, having made leeway towards the French and British, and yet despite their advance, it was stalled with the even fresher inclusion of Americans. Despite the belief they had a legitimate chance of actually winning the war, Lothar was devastated to hear that the German 2nd Reich surrendered to the Allies. With him retiring afterwards, disgruntled and pissed off, Lothar decided to bank into his pensions, which were almost useless thanks to the inflation, instead opting to move out of Germany given the circumstances, and settle for a while to pursue his scholarly pursuits, in honour of his now-dead father's wishes, whom died from Spanish Influenza in Germany back in the Great War, to earn a degree in something, also to forget the whole shame of being a member of a nation that lost a war, or more accurately, to be led by the Kaiser into surrender. Everyone back home pointed fingers for causes, looking for reasons, whereas Lothar himself, looked to ignore and at least suppress the indescribable anxiety as a result of being lost. He took to attending a late funeral, sold off his homestead in Hesse, and moved on with his lingering money to travel to Austria to study to become an Archaeologist. At first, his poor marks in High school sabotaged him given he placed more importance in hunting than on studying, he decided to take backdoors into Archaeology as he wanted to, completing his degrees in the following years, and even getting married, as life seemed to move on for that time.

He however remained unsatisfied, despite getting the woman of his dreams, despite having earned his degrees, with his eyes locked on one final one, he was sad for Germany, and especially being ruled by the inefficient Weimer Republic. What came after being the Nazi party, as they had a meteoric rise, as well as being encouraged by his comrade from the Great War, a fellow soldier by the name of Ramiel von Dusseldorf, who joined the Nazi party, to come back to Germany and join the party as well, help rebuild the ruined country one step at a time, and to get his keep back, instead of staying over in Vienna. Emboldened, and found with new purpose, if not to probably smack Ramiel for thinking he didn't actually give more than enough dues to his nation, Lothar, on shaky grounds and an uncertain future, instead of the quint one he had filled with mundane certainty in Austria, took his family to Munich, didn't take to joining the party until five years afterwards, instead, pursuing further scholarly pursuits, what with racial purity at the time being a hot topic, and studied ancient Norse theology there, in five years time after writing a thesis to do with Norse myths being quite real, as he extrapolated from an earlier finding submitted by the controversial author of Hinter dem Schleier, who allegedly discovered artifacts in Norway in the form of the well of life, which many scholars sans Lothar didn't take seriously, Lothar was granted the PhD for pushing forward a more convincing argument, but nonetheless dismissed as pure fabrication and fiction, that one would mistake for real given the more compelling arguments and evidences in his case not rife with maddened writings, if not only because he has a firm grasp of Nordic mythology better than most. An expert in that field which complimented him to be an ideal candidate for the SS-Ahnenerbe. Though him becoming a member of the Thule Society was never learnt when, just that he was one during this time, and the following period till its dissolution.

This is long.



We wrote:He joined Schutzstaffel upon graduation, and toured many sites in Scandinavia as the leading expert of his respective field alongside other Archaeologists, not as an Archaeologist himself, but as a man versed in Nordic runes and other purview which is to do with the Vikings. The Society of the Thule trusted Lothar to find that same fabled nexus of life filled with the origin of it, so said to have been spilling over to leave naught but a lingering scant amount of it somewhere in the cold and tundric reaches. His trek proved fruitful after much research and clue following that ranged from years in exhaustive studies, to bear fruition, as in a small summit almost thought lost and forgotten, they descended down deep into the bowels of a mountain in one mountain range of Norway. With a platoon's worth of soldiers, they encountered many such obstacles in the form of supernatural foes, and yet, they persisted till only five of them remained, with a huge devastating casualty left behind, as excessive firepower was required to take down the ghouls that lingered in the catacombs, reanimated by means unknown, and yet were physically stronger than they should be, and amounting in numbers high enough to contest the claim of the crypts, the so called guardians of the crypt, which were promptly defeated, but at a debilitating cost. They were far too intelligent to be just ghouls though, that the expeditionary forces thought they might be something else all together. Lothar and the survivors, those being soldiers and an archaeologist, managed to find the fruit of their labour, a pool of bubbling black tar-like substance to which reeked of an alien smell, and possessed an alluring appearance. So termed Eitr, one so scant, so little, and yet, so coveted. That success funded further missions to drain the pool out, and yet all attempts to consume it were met with death given the poisonous nature of the substance.

It wasn't the only such expedition undertaken, for it was one of the many, but with the war reaching near its conclusion, and territories were being lost in abundance, Lothar, overseen with trying to find a way to actually gain the powers of Eitr, and also to apply it into mass quantities, was met with failure after another, as the test subjects kept racking up into decaying corpses whom soon expired. What the Nazi's wanted were not expiring corpses, but men filled with vitality all given the nature of Eitr. The answer unfortunately was not found to their liking, only when used in lieu to other artifacts, that perhaps, Lothar theorized alongside a doctor, that maybe the dispersal of Eitr to give life wasn't related to something conveyed through scientific method, but in fact, perhaps done so through something of supernatural methods. The two agreed to try a last ditch effort, one which was reckless, and by all means shouldn't have happened given it goes against protocol, but Lothar insisted for some reason as he had the smuggest smile plastered on his face, he decided to actually instruct the doctor to do something that he thought was by all means insane, but Lothar insisted on it. An experiment otherwise not tried, as they wanted life, not life from death, and something of increased prowess to boot. Their entire thinking process was wrong, Lothar explained, and they shouldn't have thought to give life, without giving into death first.

Leaving himself strapped into an operating table, and under severe insistence as he was egotistical about it, that he actually reaps it, pulling rank several times on the doctor, the doctor relents, and drained Lothar of his blood, making sure to do so while the heart was put at a stop. Afterwards, he was injected with Eitr through the heart, making sure there was little blood in him as he was paled, having been in an unconscious state for a while, if not practically dead for all intents and purposes, if not temporarily. A method that was completely unorthodox, but Lothar volunteered to see his methods working. It needed to compose him back into life once again, for it was the origin of life, and he cannot have his blood flowing through his veins if he were to actually do so. With his heart blackened and filled with the substance, as his skin was cold and his veins grew black, Lothar was electrocuted back into having his heart beat, after his self-induced cardiac arrest, resuscitating and his theory proven right. Something impressive for a man that hadn't studied medicine, which the doctor found amusing really. This was not something achieved just immediately, but took long thought before Lothar even came to the conclusion he needed to be the one for the procedure. Filled with new toxic life in his veins though, with no more clashing of two fluids flowing through his veins, he felt his insides corrupt, and he was writhing in pain.

In a homicidal rage induced as he became vicious, cruel and sinister thanks to what was tantamount to being shed by serpents, Lothar strangled the doctor without time to even appreciate his gifts, driven insane momentarily thanks to having his insides re-arranged to suit the purpose of his ooze. His mind was literally poisoned as he rampaged around the laboratory, being gunned down as he was and considered a failure from the experiment, his body carted out and thrown into a mass grave that was slated to be buried nearby a Concentration Camp incidentally, as that is where the laboratory was near to. The whole project being considered a failure in general, and with Lothar temporarily incapacitated being thought for dead, his insides spat out the bullets shot into him, and he awakened surrounded by corpses of Concentration Camp prisoners. Germany wanted to actually hide their crimes and thus erase all Concentration Camps, it was one of the Concentration Camps nearer to the West, around where the Western forces were closing into Germany.

Digging for two days, as for his diet consisted of the fresh prisoners piled on top of him, as opposed to the more rotting ones below, he bursts out, and escaped in the fires of war. Trekking for distances long, and without ever looking back, as he was delirious, barely reeling back a homicidal urge to kill other people, and in constant pain that he barely had a moment of sleep. He didn't even bother to look for his family, just going straight to leave somewhere far away, killing whomever he can as he left a trail of corpses, that otherwise were excused for nothing more than casualties of war, as the final curtain was about to drop on Berlin itself, getting the idea to go to neutral Switzerland instead. He met with a few escaping Nazi officers in Switzerland escaping from Berlin, some of whom he knew, whom were provided refuge by the Vatican, using this opportunity alongside them to take a ratline to Spain, then to Portugal, and then finally to Brazil. His family be damned, they weren't on his mind, in fact, all that was in his mind was the pain of the whole experience of having what was tantamount to poison flowing inside him, it invigorates him and gives him capabilities beyond what is human, but came with its own bundle of problems. He resolved to take anesthesia to numb his senses, and further partake into morphine to help with it as well, to control his senses.

That being done, he ventured deep into the Amazonian forests, first going into a sanctuary provided for fellow Nazis such as himself, and then from there, he went STRAIGHT into the heart of the jungles themselves, as far away as possible from civilization where he can first try to mitigate the problem he has with pain, and further homicidal feelings. Sure he liked to kill things, but he wants to kill things because it'd feel RIGHT. His corruption at first was relatively tame, but as the years progressed, it has gotten worse to a point some of his body parts were rendered non-functional, that his life isn't exactly made long, but merely stretched to greater lengths. He was fine with that, but he wasn't fine with the idea he'll be doing nothing, not when he has much to do. Thoughts he had in the present rather as he reflected on his relative inactivity.

Lothar, changing his identity to Americo Santos, came into a parody of his earlier circumstances in World War 1, it was hilarious to whomever watched him cosmically, if he believed in such a thing to begin with, settling down, but not really, and this time, desperately rummaging the forests as the years went by, for a substitute to the drugs, which he found in the form of flora and fauna, that overtime grew used to the pain, but still preferred to be in control of his senses. Having made quite a few enemies by just being who he was, a Nazi, hunters were after him, some Pygmys for one COMPLETE ACCIDENT which he apologized... mentally, to himself, for having butchered the tribe's entire herd of their livestock when all the men went hunting, just out of sport, and also some angry Brazilian man because Americo won the love of his life over, which was fine and all, except he spited the man by inviting him to the wedding, STEALING the ring the man was to give to the woman, and presented it to her as if it was his own. Yep, for some indescribable reason, he got pissed, to think people can be that irrational, which left often times the man pummeled beyond recognition.

The 1950's was a troubling time period particularly, as he was left juggling family life, having to keep his dark vices secret, and thinking of ways to get back to Europe to actually take care of his little problem, while retaining the good aspects of Eitr, but recognized it wouldn't be now, not when he still lived, having fought off many rivals, be it Nazi hunters to Pygmys, and keeping hidden as he made sure his trail was cold, that, and he has to... live with disappointments of children his wife gave birth to. A fat ass girl, whom he made sure to let her know at every opportunity of her defect, and then a twig of a son, whom seriously can't take a punch, and was obsessed with this new thing called computers which came out in the 60's. It was pretty hectic, and the fact that he had to actually take up a job that WASN'T exactly landed on going into the city, which was where he picked up hunting, just his object of hunting WASN'T exactly what he told his family, doing so in the night and away from his family to keep the masquerade of being an Argentinian that became a Brazilian citizen to his family, keeping it all a secret as he led a double life, selling off animal fur and parts for money, among other things like looting the corpses of Nazi Hunters, shaving off his beard to boot as his hair turned into black, that perhaps had to do with Eitr flowing through his veins, he needed to stay incognito, which is what he planned to do, but was prepared just in case if he was definitely discovered beyond something being of but a rumour. It was too perfect, he thought, that he was marked off as dead by the Nazi regime, but he cursed for being too careless enough to strut in through the ratlines and prove his Schutzstaffel membership to even take part in going through it.

That being said, when his children left, he was finally left to his own designs, slowing down in activity, leasing in secrecy, and grew confident that perhaps as the decades passed, maybe they'd actually think he was dead anyways. Spending more time once again with his wife, as she grew feeble with age, whereas Lothar too grew feeble, but on a slower scale, before she passed away from a heart disease. The ONLY time he ever felt sad for someone, besides his father, was her, as she was magical in bed, and was actually one Hell of a woman to fight against another man, Americo thought, but her time passed on. With truly nothing left to bind him to the land, and largely thought dead to the outside world, Americo resolved, why the Hell not go outside and get shit done? He now perhaps has a chance to go into Europe finally, and tie up some loose ends, among other things along the way.

Seems like we're about done here.



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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Veronica Corvis on Thu Mar 27, 2014 8:13 pm

Taking on temporary sheet-voting duties until the normal people can get back on track with it.



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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Ada Koch on Fri Mar 28, 2014 2:41 am



By the power vested in me by myself I declare you approved.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Thu Apr 10, 2014 7:45 pm

Bumpity bump, finished my level ups. Please to check. De nada.

- Added new weapons, replaced Mk 14 for them.

- Added a spiffing new coat, tends to vary. Note the hearty niceness. So deep. Wow. Amaze.

- Added new ability. Not a xenomorph, me swear-o.

- Leveled up regeneration a notch as outlined.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by John Smith on Thu Apr 10, 2014 10:34 pm

You give the impression he just grabs random coats to wear, but if that's true, how are all of them bullet proof? Those cost thousands of dollars, so I doubt there's a dumpster full of them to go scrounging through.

Acid seems pretty overpowered. It just melts through people like nothing. From what you're describing, it seems like it's hydrofluoric acid, which isn't some instant Hollywood dissolving trick.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by Americo on Thu Apr 10, 2014 10:42 pm

Suddenly, there was one coat to rule them all.

Didn't word it right, it takes time to eat through the skin, and they should have plenty of opportunities to rid of it. If left unchecked, probably for a longer time, it would eat underneath, but for the duration, the damage is on a dermal level as opposed to sub-dermal levels. So it doesn't dissolve immediately, but more like break through it slowly. More to do with pain rather than more meaningful damage, and great for distraction purposes.

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Re: Americo Santos

Post by John Smith on Thu Apr 10, 2014 10:47 pm


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