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BAD END KH: Reawakening PandemØnium the fantasy forsaken chewing on pearls Tatterdemalion


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Mr. Eaten


My Content
Jan 27 2015, 04:05 PM
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mr. candles

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Canon: Fallen London.
Ranking: Villain.

Age: Unknown... likely unknowable.
Gender: None, but male pronouns and "it" works.
Species: Spirit.

    Vengeance occurs to everyone at least once. After being wronged, the natural reaction is not a humble turning of the other cheek, but rather the plucking of an eye for an eye. The first thought of a punched person is to punch back.

    These urges are easily overcome with rational thought. However, certain things defy rationality, certain things force an irrational anger onto the wronged person.

    Mr. Eaten was drowned. Left to soak in the tears of the Bazaar, chained at the bottom of a well after being put through immense pain... what's left of him is hardly life. What's left of him is the spirit of his vengeance, a lingering specter whose entire being has been consumed with the idea of punching back. It seems there is little more to him than that. After such long years of misery, after being betrayed and tormented, and yet still what remains of him holds flickers of life, aware only that he is drowned....

    This was not always the case. Once, Mr. Eaten was Mr. Candles, perhaps the Master who held the most empathy and desire to aid. Mr. Candles was caring towards all, ridding those who he met of nightmares, serving as the light at the edge of sleep. Of course, the Master whose light shone the brightest was the one most noticeable. The one most easily deceived.

    That compassion is gone, now, or perhaps... nearly gone. It has been replaced with hatred, with a neverending loathing for all that which betrayed him, for all things that left him alone and drowning, for that which left him in the dark, with nary a candle to light the way. What was once a soothing dream is now a dark, abyssal nightmare, a sleepless night interrupted only by visions of deep waters and the hateful whispers of that which should not be.

    Perhaps some small amount, a truly infinitesimal amount, of compassion remains within him. For when all other Masters dress as Mr. Sacks and claim items from those they visit, Mr. Eaten appears offering gifts... gifts of nightmares and a feeling of unaccountable peckishness. The hatred may not have consumed him, but what is left of compassion is warped and twisted, better left untapped. Hatred is simpler, easier, and leads quicker to a reckoning. Mr. Eaten knows this. However, he cannot deny that which is in his very nature.

    Yet, Mr. Eaten is not a being of rage. He is shockingly patient. Though in eternal pain, he has grown used to the sensation, he understands how long it will take for the reckoning to come about. However, he knows that the reckoning will not be posponed indefinitely. It may take long, but the time will come. It will come. Mr. Eaten is a very calm presence, lacking in the ire that seems to define him. He is quiet and indirect because he must be.

    There is a great deal of understanding in him. He understands his situation perfectly well, knowing how he must act through others, that he is naught but a spirit who cannot act directly, and particularly that it will take an exceedingly long time for a reckoning to come about.

    However, it will come about. His hatred, his suffering, and his actions cannot be stopped forever. The spirit of Mr. Eaten cannot be stamped out, there will always be those who seek his name, there will always be a spirit of the Bazaar's past mistakes haunting it. Mr. Eaten will always, always be there, until a reckoning is brought about and the full force of his hatred will overcome the Bazaar and its folly.

    A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely.
    A sacrifice was needed.

    The Masters, a group enslaved to the Bazaar, a group promised freedom upon giving the Bazaar a certain amount of cities, wished only to have the promise given to them. The cities were needed. Mr. Candles was one of these Masters, the one who governed dreams and candles... Mr. Candles was the light at the edge of sleep.

    Little did they know he would soon become the darkness plaguing nightmares.

    The cities, however, were the only way the Masters could see the promise fulfilled. The third city is where the nightmare begins. The third city required a sacrifice to be taken, a sacrifice to the God-Eaters to drown, to eat, to kill... Mr. Candles was the sacrifice. Mr. Candles was taken from the Masters and destroyed utterly, the light taken from him.

    The light was taken from all, though what little was left of it became the subject of argument.

    Though drowned, Mr. Candles still lived. Mr. Eaten still lived. To this very day, after both the third and fourth cities fell, his spirit lives on, speaking in dreams and compelling them to seek his name, to uncover the Bazaar's crimes, to bring about a reckoning.

    A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely.
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show us what you're made of

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    Unaccountably Peckish: Though lacking in a domain, Mr. Eaten holds sway over the desires, most often the desire to eat, over all those who feel them. Its influence is powerful and difficult to break free of, for once it has entered a mind and forced onto it a desire, that desire only grows the more it's satiated. The desire can only be ended by Mr. Eaten itself or collecting a certain amount of candles, and discovering a name...

    The Edge of Sleep: Mr. Eaten can enter and influence dreams, his spirit taking form within and delivering messages to those trying to rest. This is all that remains of his former domain, the single thing which was not taken from him. They could not take it from him. The unfortunate victim to Mr. Eaten's influence will find themselves plunged into nightmares, dreaming of expanses of harsh ocean, the sensation of drowning, and other horrific things.

    Voice from the Depths: A drowned voice can often be heard nearby water, moaning in pain, calling for a reckoning, and whispering irresistible commands in the ears of those who listen too closely. This is the voice of Mr. Eaten, a voice projected through the waters and into dreams, a voice that reaches out only to those who might seek the name.

    Lacre: Lacre, the so-called snow of the Neath, is the only way Mr. Eaten can take physical form. Though the drowned body still exists, and the spirit lives on, it must manipulate the lacre into a form appearing to be like the other Masters. In this form, Eaten dons a large cloak, covering its lacre body. When this body is assailed, it will simply dissipate into lacre, leaving behind an empty cloak covering a pile of not-quite snow.

    Agonizing Presence: Mr. Eaten should not be. It was drowned long ago, and for that reason its continued existence is an anomaly, a terrifying anomaly which threatens to bring about a reckoning. When in the presence of Mr. Eaten, a distinct sense of terror can be felt, and being nearby it alone can induce nightmares. Touching Mr. Eaten, being an existent person touching that which shouldn't exist, forces a sharp pain on the body, and leaves the mind afflicted with growing madness.
Weapons/Equipment: Things would be far simpler, were the author able to put candles here.
    Drowned: What remains of Mr. Eaten's physical form is drowned, left in a well, The Well, filled with the tears of the Bazaar. Though there is still life in the desecrated remains, it is so utterly destroyed, so tormented, that it cannot stir from its deathlike slumber. It is chained at the bottom of the well, drowned perpetually.

    Spirit: Mr. Eaten must act indirectly. Though it can influence others as a spirit, it cannot take physical form and act on its own. Even when using lacre to take form, it is little more than a construct of what is essentially snow. Mr. Eaten is little more than a hollow voice in dreams, the deepest feeling of hunger, and a particularly ghastly nightmare...
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tell us who you are

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Cbox Name: Epsilon.
Nicknames: hhh
Who else do you play?: Peter Pan, Pride, Alucard, Toneri Otsutsuki, and Dandy Mott.
How did you find us?: I will ALWAYS find you.
Time Zone: EST.
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