Charak

Name: Charak
Age: 90 years (last 70 spent in hell)
Group: Demon

Appearance:

One of the first things that will come to mind when looking at Charak is that he is small. Though he is thin and his body is correctly proportioned, he simply is not big in any sense of the word. He's only 5'4" (1.62 meters) in height and weighs about 125 pounds (57 kilograms). He's not very muscular, but he is lithe and though one could easily over power him in a up-close fight, he's quick and agile and has had a notable amount of fighting training. He has messy hair that's a few inches long. It's a brownish/blackish color, which compliments his green eyes. Though not unusually green or overly bold, these more pine-colors green eyes are the most notable of his physical features. Charak dresses in jeans and dark-colored graphic t-shirts, often with a jacket as well.

Personality:

Charak is an interesting demon. He doesn't enjoy cruelty as many of them do. Perhaps it is his youth, perhaps it something else entirely, but Charak has not forgotten his past life as human. Don't get me wrong - he doesn't empathize. He doesn't feel remorse or sadness at the pain or death of others. But neither does he enjoy it. 

Secondly, Charak is solitary. He doesn't enjoy others. It doesn't matter who they are or how they treat him, he doesn't enjoy being around them. He does what he can to avoid others, making limited contact with them unless ordered to by one of his superiors. He follows orders. Though very few of his co-workers and employers in hell actually like him, they tend not to dislike him either. He does his job well and keeps out of everyone's business.

Charak doesn't exactly see himself as above everyone else, but he doesn't see himself as the same as them. This leads him to under estimate the will-power of others. Though he usually is pretty good at telling how smart or strong someone is, he never nailed the emotion peace and expects people to break sooner then they often do. As far as will-power goes, Charak is not lacking. He is very strong-willed, it's simply that he doesn't have much that matters to him.

Charak's focus in life is self-preservation. He doesn't have many goals, but as long as he's alive, then he figures he'll find a way to enjoy the continued ability to exist and do things. In this, we see the only glaring fear that Charak has; the fear of non-existence.

Charak has one real, true blessing. And that is his intelligence. Charak is smart, not like good-grades smart but 'take apart a clock and put it back together' smart. Give him a problem and he'll give you a solution. Though he doesn't have picture-perfect memory, he does do a good job at getting the idea of things and when he starts something new, he's very good at getting used to it and adapting. 

Much of Charak's odd quirks are based around a major one. his headaches. He's not sure when exactly they started - probably not too long after his fall to hell - but they haven't stopped. These come along with mood swings and he hates them with a passion as at their peak they can render him useless, a trembling creature curled upon the couch or on the floor.

History:

Charak is not the name he was born with. He was born Ivan Gilan Prodence in California, 1922. He was the first child born to Alan and Sherri Prodence. His family was well-off enough to send him and his younger siblings to receive private schooling. Though his brothers and sisters excelled, Charak did not. He argued with authority, he didn't respect his parents, he laughed at the kindness of those around him. He received his fair share of punishments, but if anything that only made it worse. After he got kicked out of school after school, his parents gave up, kicking their eldest son out of the house when he was about 15.

On the road, he met a pair of men in their late twenties. They were black, which, at the period in time, meant that Charak was weary of them, even rude. But they offered to pay him for a simple job, even if it made absolutely no sense.

And that was the story of how he ended up running for his life from an angry shapeshifter. The two men from earlier killed it as Charak watched, dumbfounded. They were setting off to leave when Charak regained his voice and asked what had happened. They laughed and left. So the teenager set out to find out what exactly had happened. With little food and little money, Charak became a thief as he traveled from town to town on 'borrowed' funds. He occasionally got lucky, finding a hunter or two and following them, watching what they did and taking notes. He was curious about it, yes, but he never really wanted that job. fighting against creatures that much more powerful then you was not his idea of a good time.

And it was not his fate to become anything special in his life, or die a grandiose death. He died because he got sick and had no way of treating it. He died cold and alone on a park bench.

His thievery, disregard for friends, family, and the rest of the human race sent him plummeting to Hell, and it didn't really take that long for him to make the transition from 'tortured soul' to 'demonic entity'. When the gates to Hell were opened, he was one of the lucky few to escape. He ditched his old name - it hadn't been used by anyone for long - and picked a new one and a new body. He has stayed low and avoided making a fuss, following out any orders from Hell and avoiding everything else.

Strengths: -intelligence, -natural demon strengths, -adaptability
Weaknesses: -crippling headaches, -natural demon weaknesses, -not good at understanding others
Likes: -being alone, -observing things from a distance, -puzzles, -work
Dislikes: -others, -talking a lot, -his headaches, -stupidity

-- OUT OF CHARACTER --

Name/Alias: Splash, Kayos, there are a a few others.
How you found us: There was a advertisement on a site that me and some friends created. I actually popped back here three or so times before joining.
How long you have been rping for: Three years, about. I started around my eleventh birthday, though, so I'm relatively young.
Other characters here: This is my first one.
Anything else: Don't think so.

RP Sample:

Archery was one of the more recent hobbies that Charak had picked up. Though a bow-and-arrows was not particularly effective as a weapon, as the media would lead one to believe, it was still something quite enjoyable. Weapon or not, it made you feel powerful.Yet here was something oddly peaceful about the whole thing. He had tried to find this with other things - martial arts, jogging - but those were basically nothing with the stamina he'd gained from being a demon. Archery, however, was different. Though he still had to be wary of his strength, the sport was reliant on other things, such as one's aim, steadiness, and stance. That was what was so freeing about it. He could feel he was doing something again. He could understand why many demons spent time attacking humans in ever stranger manners. It was because with all the demonic abilities, you could feel alive when you heard bones crack and snap. Otherwise, one felt aloof, as though not an actual part of the world.

Charak could definitely understand that. It was difficult to feel at peace on Earth. There were times when it felt like the planet itself was trying to eject you. Maybe it was. Demons belonged in hell after all.

However, at that particular point in time, Charak felt at peace with the world around him. The soft trill of a lone bird sounded on his left and the wind tugged gently at his clothes. He certainly felt as though he belonged here now, surrounded by the green color of the plant life all around him. Sighing happily, the demon looked out ahead of him where he had placed a target. It wasn't a very good target, but it would do for his purposes. He raised his bow hand first, his second hand following suit to rest near the corner of his mouth, arrow nocked. Peering through the sight he pushed his shoulder blades as close together as they would go. For a few moments he stayed that way until he released the string and the arrow flew through the air to land in the bottom left corner of the target with a satisfying thud.

He ran a hand through his hair and pulled another arrow from the quiver strapped to his hip, enjoying the simple, quietness of his surroundings.