SWL Roleplay Wiki - User contributions [en]

Amjad Selim

2024-12-19T20:37:42Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe / The Sparrow
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a British Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him.

After going through high school, he majored in Law, besides his studies he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if only he followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he walked into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, When she looked into his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough.

Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt. His take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man.
Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=
The day of the Tokyo bombing was just a day to him, he finished his work early, left for his place, took a bath and ate a little then headed off to his friend's place for a TTRPG session, it all went so normally but he couldn't help but see something or rather someone always hidden in the side of his gaze, hidden but not too hidden, a man draped in green robes, whenever he turned to look at him, he was no longer there, it unnerved him slightly but the rest of the day gave him no reason to be too paranoid, after the session ended he went home and lied in his bed, gazing into the ceiling just listening to a podcast he was not aware of Tokyo at all, the podcast turned to static noise as he fell asleep, he had an odd vision but despite how he wanted to feel....he felt right. Especially after he woke up, when that first explosion of Anima triggered in him, he was delighted, he smiled, he laughed, this was magic, and even though he spent a week or so trying to stop himself from destroying his apartment he was excited at the prospect, to do magic. To help protect the world. He was somewhat idealistic, must have been the effect of all this heavy immersion in fantasy. There was a knock on the door....Everything can change.

Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating.

=• The Storyteller •=

Amjad has always loved a good story, he loved learning about histories, and when his powers manifested and he was taken, he devoured any piece of new knowledge with a remarkable zeal, prior to his awakening as he calls it, he always believed that he wasn't of this day and age, his belief in reincarnation grants him a certain delusion that his life began in Ancient Egypt, and it shows in how he looks; he is almost always seen sporting an eyeliner shaped in the style of the Ancient Egyptians, a call back to his ideals, where he feels he truly should've been born. And yet to be of this modern day and age is good because it gives him access to more stories, more inspiration.

This might be a boon for him, for in the Secret world; Lore is not just tall tales, but an echo of a power that a dedicated soul may turn into a thundering boom of potency. So he strives to learn. His nature is such a great asset for people almost always feel compelled to tell him their stories or things they went through, it makes him one of the Dragon's greatest assets in intelligence gathering and he, unbeknownst to him, is one of their favored variables.

His goals however are focused simply on understanding, and on finding more stories, an obsession he had prior to what he calls "his awakening" but one that seemed amplified by his induction into the Secret War, and while it is mostly harmless for others, his knowledge-seeking has a dark side, rumor has it that his time in the field made him willing to understand more of the nature of the Filth and the Dreamers, though nothing serious surfaced that condemns or questions his loyalties for his outward demeanor hides his curiosity, and fascination with the Dreamers and their machinations.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's an agent of the Dragon, and his somewhat friendly demeanor and non-threatening appearance earned him many friends worldwide, his hunt for knowledge and artifacts and his Egyptian background led to him forming contacts within the Kingdom, whom he usually visits and shares drinks with one or two of its members, listening for their stories, Amjad also likes the Djinn and have been striving to win their respects for he sees them as unabashed masters of Elementalism, a branch of the mystic arts he wants to cover.

=• Special Notes •=
To those looking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, and the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the bee did not awaken magical potential, for his magical potential and his seeming unity with the world and its pulse granted him visions and dreams of the other ages and events he by no need should've known, and it aided him in more ways than one, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a new set of skills.

His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much simpler than the previous ages, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient Egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a seeker of knowledge. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to achieve his rather impossible quest to learn everything, find the greatest stories, and if the rumors are to be believed find a way to harness the Dreamers to achieve his goals without the side effects he has seen.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2024-12-17T06:53:35Z

Akhmenukep:

Amjad Selim

2024-12-15T08:57:05Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe / The Sparrow
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a British Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him.

After going through high school, he majored in Law, besides his studies he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if only he followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he walked into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, When she looked into his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough.

Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt. His take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man.
Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, he'd often dismiss them as fabrications of his subconscious, or just results of him enjoying perhaps too many TTRPGs and other works of fantasy with his friends, but it seems that Gaia had her eyes on this one even before he was needed.

The day of the Tokyo bombing was just a day to him, he finished his work early, left for his place, took a bath and ate a little then headed off to his friend's place for a TTRPG session, it all went so normally but he couldn't help but see something or rather someone always hidden in the side of his gaze, hidden but not too hidden, a man draped in green robes, whenever he turned to look at him, he was no longer there, it unnerved him slightly but the rest of the day gave him no reason to be too paranoid, after the session ended he went home and lied in his bed, gazing into the ceiling just listening to a podcast he was not aware of Tokyo at all, the podcast turned to static noise as he fell asleep, he had an odd vision but despite how he wanted to feel....he felt right. Especially after he woke up, when that first explosion of Anima triggered in him, he was delighted, he smiled, he laughed, this was magic, and even though he spent a week or so trying to stop himself from destroying his apartment he was excited at the prospect, to do magic. To help protect the world. He was somewhat idealistic, must have been the effect of all this heavy immersion in fantasy. There was a knock on the door....Everything can change.

Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating.

=• The Storyteller •=

Amjad has always loved a good story, he loved learning about histories, and when his powers manifested and he was taken, he devoured any piece of new knowledge with a remarkable zeal, prior to his awakening as he calls it, he always believed that he wasn't of this day and age, his belief in reincarnation grants him a certain delusion that his life began in Ancient Egypt, and it shows in how he looks; he is almost always seen sporting an eyeliner shaped in the style of the Ancient Egyptians, a call back to his ideals, where he feels he truly should've been born. And yet to be of this modern day and age is good because it gives him access to more stories, more inspiration.

This might be a boon for him, for in the Secret world; Lore is not just tall tales, but an echo of a power that a dedicated soul may turn into a thundering boom of potency. So he strives to learn. His nature is such a great asset for people almost always feel compelled to tell him their stories or things they went through, it makes him one of the Dragon's greatest assets in intelligence gathering and he, unbeknownst to him, is one of their favored variables.

His goals however are focused simply on understanding, and on finding more stories, an obsession he had prior to what he calls "his awakening" but one that seemed amplified by his induction into the Secret War, and while it is mostly harmless for others, his knowledge-seeking has a dark side, rumor has it that his time in the field made him willing to understand more of the nature of the Filth and the Dreamers, though nothing serious surfaced that condemns or questions his loyalties for his outward demeanor hides his curiosity, and fascination with the Dreamers and their machinations.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's an agent of the Dragon, and his somewhat friendly demeanor and non-threatening appearance earned him many friends worldwide, his hunt for knowledge and artifacts and his Egyptian background led to him forming contacts within the Kingdom, whom he usually visits and shares drinks with one or two of its members, listening for their stories, Amjad also likes the Djinn and have been striving to win their respects for he sees them as unabashed masters of Elementalism, a branch of the mystic arts he wants to cover.

=• Special Notes •=
To those looking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, and the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the bee did not awaken magical potential, for his magical potential and his seeming unity with the world and its pulse granted him visions and dreams of the other ages and events he by no need should've known, and it aided him in more ways than one, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a new set of skills.

His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much simpler than the previous ages, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient Egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a seeker of knowledge. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to achieve his rather impossible quest to learn everything, find the greatest stories, and if the rumors are to be believed find a way to harness the Dreamers to achieve his goals without the side effects he has seen.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2024-12-13T18:57:58Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe / The Sparrow
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a British Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough.

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted in this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, he'd often dismiss them as fabrications of his subconscious, or just results of him enjoying perhaps too many TTRPGs and other works of fantasy with his friends, but it seems that Gaia had her eyes on this one even before he was needed.

The day of the Tokyo bombing was just a day to him, he finished his work early, left for his place, took a bath and ate a little then headed off to his friend's place for a TTRPG session, it all went so normally but he couldn't help but see something or rather someone always hidden in the side of his gaze, hidden but not too hidden, a man draped in green robes, whenever he turned to look at him, he was no longer there, it unnerved him slightly but the rest of the day gave him no reason to be too paranoid, after the session ended he went home and lied in his bed, gazing into the ceiling just listening to a podcast he was not aware of Tokyo at all, the podcast turned to static noise as he fell asleep, he had an odd vision but despite how he wanted to feel....he felt right. Especially after he woke up, when that first explosion of Anima triggered in him, he was delighted, he smiled, he laughed, this was magic, and even though he spent a week or so trying to stop himself from destroying his apartment he was excited at the prospect, to do magic. To help protect the world. He was somewhat idealistic, must have been the effect of all this heavy immersion in fantasy. There was a knock on the door....Everything can change.

Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating.

=• The Storyteller •=

Amjad has always loved a good story, he loved learning about histories, and when his powers manifested and he was taken, he devoured any piece of new knowledge with a remarkable zeal, prior to his awakening as he calls it, he always believed that he wasn't of this day and age, his belief in reincarnation grants him a certain delusion that his life began in Ancient Egypt, and it shows in how he looks; he is almost always seen sporting an eyeliner shaped in the style of the Ancient Egyptians, a call back to his ideals, where he feels he truly should've been born. And yet to be of this modern day and age is good because it gives him access to more stories, more inspiration.

This might be a boon for him, for in the Secret world; Lore is not just tall tales, but an echo of a power that a dedicated soul may turn into a thundering boom of potency. So he strives to learn. His nature is such a great asset for people almost always feel compelled to tell him their stories or things they went through, it makes him one of the Dragon's greatest assets in intelligence gathering and he, unbeknownst to him, is one of their favored variables.

His goals however are focused simply on understanding, and on finding more stories, an obsession he had prior to what he calls "his awakening" but one that seemed amplified by his induction into the Secret War, and while it is mostly harmless for others, his knowledge-seeking has a dark side, rumor has it that his time in the field made him willing to understand more of the nature of the Filth and the Dreamers, though nothing serious surfaced that condemns or questions his loyalties for his outward demeanor hides his curiosity, and fascination with the Dreamers and their machinations.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's an agent of the Dragon, and his somewhat friendly demeanor and non-threatening appearance earned him many friends worldwide, his hunt for knowledge and artifacts and his Egyptian background led to him forming contacts within the Kingdom, whom he usually visits and shares drinks with one or two of its members, listening for their stories, Amjad also likes the Djinn and have been striving to win their respects for he sees them as unabashed masters of Elementalism, a branch of the mystic arts he wants to cover.

=• Special Notes •=
To those looking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, and the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the bee did not awaken magical potential, for his magical potential and his seeming unity with the world and its pulse granted him visions and dreams of the other ages and events he by no need should've known, and it aided him in more ways than one, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a new set of skills.

His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much simpler than the previous ages, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient Egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a seeker of knowledge. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to achieve his rather impossible quest to learn everything, find the greatest stories, and if the rumors are to be believed find a way to harness the Dreamers to achieve his goals without the side effects he has seen.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2020-04-13T16:13:14Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = templar
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Fate33d
| nickname =Ithereal
| image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png
| organization =
| job_title = Heir
| aliases = Archangel of Fate
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = English
| residence = London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Artorius Byron Seymour was born in the family's mansion in Yorkshire, last in a line of a proud family tracing its roots back to the times of the Crusades, and possibly beyond, there's a long established family tale that recounts how the first of the Seymour bloodline were Angels, who pitied man and descended from the Heavens taking mortal forms to aid mankind in its eternal struggle against evil, both human & otherwise, The family most defining genetic trait has been their silvery eyes, it is said the most gifted and prominent among the Seymours would be born with silver eyes.
The Seymours have had strong ties to the Templars, as such their son was bred to be among the best of the elite, taught in and well versed in history, arts & literature as well as the classical education mandatory for his more…special studies, he was allowed access to a treasure trove of occult knowledge as well as secret histories, and all was according to his parents plan, the family took pride In their son, who was displaying signs of greatness and potential, worthy of him walking with pride in Temple hall.

Arthur grew up to be somewhat pacifistic, he abhorred violence, and scorned bloodshed, his view of the world was tolerant and merciful, he accepted those different from him and advocated for their rights, such an inclusive and exemplary man of the new cosmopolitan world. Yet he looked around him and saw nothing but chaos, humanity was on the brink of self destruction they were destroying not only themselves but their planet and the whole world around them, through his studies of the world's history he viewed humans, as pack animals, and every pack needs a pack leader, a chain of command seemed to be what holds the world together or send it plummeting further down the spiral of oblivion, it was the burden of those who knew and those strong enough to shoulder the burdens of the world to save it. He himself wanted to be both, he wanted to save the world, he wanted to save everyone his capacity for empathy was always one of his defining qualities.

Arthur has always been obsessed with Angels, the family's legend, their history, his skills, it all helped feed his obsession, his rooms always had sketches and artwork depicting angels and other religious icons, even though he himself wasn't a religious individual, he Prayed, but in his own way, he did solely because it made him feel guided and guarded, He would pray whenever he came close to an undertaking, sometimes it would sound like verse but it rarely ever is, it didn't stop his family from teaching them their history, the significance of faith in that history and about their heirlooms, one particular heirloom that belonged to his father, interested him and was supposed to be significant to him above all, a family ring with a singular pearl, it had engravings all over, in a language that seemed akin to latin but it wasn't, he was told that one day he will earn this, and on that day he would bring his family great pride.

The young man's pacifistic tendencies weren't much to his family's liking though, their family has always been affiliated with the Templars, the protectors of the world from the evils that burrow and breed beneath the artificial curb content to be forgotten and ignored by the masses, but the Cross never forgets to mete out not just mercy but justice and holy fire upon the damned and the villainous, Arthur was more lenient concerning the denizens of the other worlds, he was of the belief that the world would reach a state of harmony only when all its denizens, those human and not work together….an idealist the kind ones would call him, but he was a fool when his family were ever asked.

When the time came he attended Oxford university Majoring in English literature, possibly one of his all time favorite things in the world, alongside archaeology…After he would finish his college he would travel across old Europe visiting old Cathedrals and churches, while neither a protestant nor a catholic he always enjoyed the interiors and the architecture, his was an old soul it was no wonder he loved Europe more than any other place in the world, the Renaissance was meant to be the era he would've been born into if every man was born in the time of his choosing….but he was not without his modern habits, while his phone was still with a keyboard, he enjoyed video-gaming and would often pick a holy warrior in his rpgs, even though he himself was not exactly a physically imposing martial force, to his father's chagrin, for he wanted his son to be a true crusader in mind and body, but his son failed in both endeavors, yet his family viewed their son with pride.

His father was not pleased with his lack of any military training so he did what he had to do, he had his son sent to several institutions aiming to teach him about combat, but the young man was completely against it, even though he found a certain penchant to marksmanship, he was deadly with a rifle on long range, it was as if he was a gifted sniper, he was trained in the old ways, learning to appreciate each shot, he often would smirk to himself as his mentor would say "if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all" the Alan moore references were strong there, he would joke to himself about it, but his mentors clearly had no idea who Alan moore was, Arthur always were worlds apart from men of violence, that's why, while he excelled he never really relished in holding a firearm, a rifle no less, he was an excellent marksman, but it always seemed that he pulled his trigger….reluctantly.

All was well, and pleasant for the rich heir.

=• The Secret War •=

Years went by, Arthur got engaged to a lovely woman, from another family, He loved her dearly, and so did she, although both families were merely arranging the marriage, but both parties seemed pretty content with it all….they were going to announce the engagement on his birthday party….that same weekend he returned from Rome, his fiancée always wore a cross chain around her neck, it always looked beautiful, it had inscriptions on the chain, and said to be ancient, a family heirloom, The De Cosimo family was as prestigious as the Seymours, Maria was also a promising offspring, but the De Cosimos were more affiliated with the Council of Venice, a form of parliament ruling the Secret world, their quest was to basically keep the matter of squabbling secret societies a secret and keep the average man blissfully unaware of the darkness surrounding his world that could close its maws on it at any time. After a trip to Rome, Arthur returned to his family's mansion were the preparations for his engagement, his birthday & the celebration of his return after years of touring the old world were being held, it was another rainy night of England's many rainy nights, as he drove his way home he saw a little girl, not older than twelve cross the road, he braked instantly as he witnessed the girl's clothes were bloodied, and she was crying profusely, then she just fainted….there….on the road, right in front of him.

Taking pity on the little girl who seemed a surviving victim of some sort of abuse, the moors were sometimes unkind, for all manner of creatures, both human and not could run rampant in the night….her clothes and her appearance suggested that she was a survivor of rape, but there were wounds over her throat….Arthur thought that maybe some kids were trying their hand in blood magic or demon summoning, amateurs & fools…she was too weak and he couldn't just leave her in her current state, so he elected to take her home…by the time they got home her skin was getting colder and colder, so he placed her in a guest room, got her some food, and instructed the maid to clean her up and take good care of her. He then proceeded to get ready for his own party that night, the girl had to wait, he was going to get engaged.

As he was adjusting his tie and combing his hair, lights went out, the entire mansion was engulfed in darkness, he then heard screams…several high pitched panicking screams, the men reached for weapons, a ruckus broke out, he himself had to know what happened, the mansion was under attack, the whole mansion apparently, He went for his gun, locked & loaded then headed down, as he closed the door of his room, the last gunshot was heard leaving the whole mansion dead silent….and dark…..Humans always feared the dark, or more aptly, we learned to fear what lurks within it, and he was no exception, his dress shoes were not very practical but he had no time to change….the mansion didn't have many people yet….just his family, his fiancée, they were expecting guests later this week, but not today, he heard a moan, not of pleasure but of pain, the floor was creaking and the sound did not help alleviate his concern, as he looked down the corridor lightning flashed and he saw a human form over another….the latter wearing a white dress, smeared red with blood, there was the sound of chewing and slurping, he made a noise loading his gun, and the creature looked up to him, it had night prowler eyes, not silvery like his, his were holy, these were not, lightning flashed again, then thunder boomed, the creature had blood all over its face and chest…it was a vampire, but it looked familiar. As lightning flashed a couple of times he got a closer look, it was his family's butler....such a grim fate, for such a loyal servant.

In the span of a breath the Vampire was on all fours running towards him, he fired a single shot that went directly through the creature's head….Arthur never panicked, not visibly, he felt fear, but he never truly…panicked, although this was not normal to him, he read the secret histories, he knew what the world had hid then forgotten….He pulled a sword from the mantelpiece, this was a Templar home after all weapons were everywhere, and Severed the creature's head, at which it turned to ash, the sword was always a favorite weapon of his, though it was impractical in this day and age, and the Broadswords were nice, but they were heavy and his body couldn't support them for prolonged periods of time, so he elected to try and find the bullets made to handle the Vampires, he didn't know how many of them broke into the house, He went to check on the corpse the Vampire was draining yet he couldn't see well in the dark….He needed a flashlight….He needed to get his own rifle, it's in the Arsenal alongside the other weapons and the bullets….lightning flashed again interrupting his thoughts and almost immediately all blood drained from his face…it was his mother….He froze in his place, unable to even respond, he knew of loss but this was…unexpected, he knew death claims everyone but he hoped like all children with their mothers that death would spare her, that her Fate becomes outlasting his own…he kissed her forehead and got up, She was bitten by a vampire. She could turn, he was trying to banish the thoughts from his head, he couldn't, he shouldn't she deserves her rest, he thought, the hand holding the blade shivered….and with an anguished cry he raised the blade and decapitated his own mother then fell to his knees wrestling his own tears…but he had little time to grief as he heard the lumbering of a creature upstairs, there was a loud noise…whatever menace that caused this must have made its way upstairs…He slowly and as silently as possible he found the arsenal taking his custom made rifle, and loading it with blessed bullets…Why, he was wondering, why it wasn’t him that died….maybe he would at the end of this night….the storm raged outside, which meant phonelines were dead, there was no back up coming to him, not that he knew any.

Arthur traveled through the mansion, with wary steps, having to dispatch a vampire every room or two, it was as if an entire coven came to the mansion, but they were all weak, relatively speaking, a coven of young new bloods? It wasn't unheard, of, He wished he had more than his rifle, but there was really nothing he can do, he could search for some arcane trinkets, he knew how to perform blood rituals after all, but it was impractical, he can't read from the books in this light, his elementalism was rusty as well and he didn't memorize many spells, maybe a couple of ones to heal his wounds, but nothing too major….He was now at the top floor, and he was exhausted, not physically but it seemed a mountain of burden fell on his shoulders; he lost his mother, he found his sister's corpse torn apart and mangled by a pack of the fiends….the maid was dead, he now was worried about Maria, the child he saved & his father….He hasn't found them yet, and there was only one room left in the entire mansion, his father's study.
He took a succession of deep breathes, then slowly opened the double doors, that were covered in blood as if painted by some sick artist, He saw his father standing at the window staring into the moors, his back was hunched and his hands drooped beside him as if he were dead, but he wasn't he was standing there, around his father's finger shone the ring, his family's heirloom, but it was searing the man's flesh, but he didn't flinch, he wasn't flinching, he looked to the desk and saw her, Maria, or what is left of her, she was naked, drenched in blood, he smelled the stale smell of piss on her, she must've been afraid…before she died…she was dead, feasted upon by the vampires, apparently and the old man just stood, there was a sound of munching, and a strange glow around him….It didn't take time for Arthur to figure it out….his father died too, but he was reanimated….a shadow of his former self….he turned slowly to face his son who aimed his rifle at him as he muttered desperately, with naivety, he knew it but he couldn’t help himself "father…? What happened?" the shambling corpse growled, and walked towards Arthur he kept his weapon trained "Father please, stay back…" more growling was the only response he got as the zombie shambled towards him, Whatever Vampire that did this must be powerful, reanimation magic was supposed to be lost….or at the very least rarely practiced….his gaze drifted to Maria's ravaged corpse and he felt even heavier, his heart was thundering in his chest….He lost everyone…Everyone he held dear, on the span of one night, Why did it happen to him, Why Him, his sadness began to fester into anger, he looked at the corpse of the old man shambling towards him, picking up pace, the ring burning in its hand, he kept the rifle trained and took a step back to keep the distance "I never dreamed that I would father such an unworthy son!" His eyes widened in horror as his father's voice came from the corpse "Look at you, you smell of fear, of weakness….even the bitch we chose for you knew you were weak, when she was dying she didn't even scream for you…she knew you can't save her…."

"that's Enough…"

"Failure. Weakling….your mother and sister delighted in being ravaged and joining the coven…"

"No…"

"No Son of Mine would've let that happen, I would have bred a warrior not a Coward!"

"I am no son of yours, Corpse, my father is Dead…."

"Your father considered you dead too"

"I said ENOUGH!!!"

He snapped and pulled the trigger firing a hail of bullets at his father's zombie form the onslaught was too much for the corpse that was reanimated with dark magic, the strain, led to it collapsing and then disintegrating at rapid speed, unnatural speed.
In a moment there was nothing but silence, the sound of rain, the booming of thunder, he walked to where his father's corpse were, and he knelt and took the ring "Requiescat in pace, father, I will make sure it is kept safe…I will make you proud…" once he slipped on the ring, he felt something odd coursing through him, power, he began to feel as if volumes of arcane books just opened in his mind, he remembered spells, and memories he didn't have before, was it the ring?

A feminine voice cut the silence that followed it came from the corpse "Why did you not love me enough, Princes proposed to me, men of stature, real men…but my family chose you, for your name…"Maria's corpse rose, slowly, reanimated as well, the necromancer was here, in the room, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he was being systematically broken, he knew, he always knew…but he couldn’t help but feel even worse, the rifle began to feel heavy in his hands, the woman's corpse walked to him "You can still prove your love for me, beloved, let go of your weapon, hold me in your arms, prove to me that you can love, that you love me, join me…."
The Rifle got even heavier, the room felt to be getting smaller, the air thinner, he was cold and exhausted, the sleeves of his shirt ,folded, were covered in the blood of those he killed, blood, there was blood on him, the blood of his mother, of his sister, of his father…the woman he loved….he drowns in blood….

Her hands slithered around his neck as she embraced him looking into his eyes with glassy eyes, she was dead and maybe he should join her too, he deserves it after losing everything it was time, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, he saw the pearl ring "I'm sorry Maria, I could've saved you….but it is too late….I'm sorry" he smiled as the blood on him began to take form, it formed a circle around Maria's feet as he backed away, and in the span of a moment she was reduced to a pond of blood "I'm sorry Maria…" She was dead.
The pond of blood was so flawless that he saw his own reflection in it, behind him was a painting of an Angel, wings spread he saw his silvery eyes and the Angel's wings on him he cocked his head slowly, was he going insane? What kind of insanity has him pondering if he was going insane? He seemed sane, it seemed that his fate was to suffer the horror of what just transpired, but it was not over yet….a young feminine voice echoed in the study

"''You are a strong one, any other man would've broken by now, clawing at his face or putting a bullet through his own brain…''"

He turned around his rifle trained he began to utter a prayer to empower the bullets in his rifle, a couple of blood spells came to his mind just in case he may need them, that ring was useful, I suppose that's why it was handed down for generations, there seemed to be a trove of knowledge desiring to flood through a keyhole, he didn't know how to use this ring yet, he was going to be passed to him later on, not now, when his father died after teaching him its secrets and his family's secrets, the voice interrupted his voice again "''I took a liking to you, Lord Seymour, since the title is now yours….your late father was no challenge at all, whether to kill or reanimate, my boys took good care of him…and special care of your mom & your sister….even more special delicious care with Maria here….''"

"Show yourself Fiend, taunting me through my family did you no good so now you resort to the shadows? Come Forth Coward….and answer for your crimes"

"''Pleasant speech, where did you get that from? Plagiarizing is a better possibility than you actually speaking those words, if you're so formal and old….you sound even older than me and I am Fairly old…a century old maybe….though it never shows….a strict beauty regiment makes sure of that….blood baths like this one help too…''"

He heard the sound of heels on the wooden floor, and suddenly the fireplace erupted and light flooded the room, shocking his eyes for a moment but he tried to shake it off quickly to get his bearing and on the chair by the fireplace, sat the 12 year old girl, the girl he saved, she looked so innocent, so afraid "Please sir, help me, they took me from my father and raped me, they almost killed me trying to carve these weird symbols on my body…it was it was…." She sobbed burying her face in her hands he ran to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder "there there, it is over now, you're alive…we will be alright….we will be…"

"It was…." She looked up to his face and grinned as her eyes turned blood red "It was riveting!"

Arthur was shoved back with such a force and hit the book shelves he was being crushed by the weight of some force "You Humans are soooo predictable!"

The Little girl pranced about dancing in the pond of blood that was Maria, gallantly as if she was dancing on water "I haven't feasted on human flesh for such a long time, but your family was so hospitable, your kindness most welcome, Lord Arthur Seymour, mind if I call you Arty? We've begun on the wrong foot here, but come on, I was just summoned into the body of a small girl, I needed to eat, like sure you get hungry too right? RIGHT? Having a sister and a fiancée like that, I would've been hungry to those too, well, I was I just had them…you get what I mean" Arthur's rage was climbing higher and higher, his rifle fell from his hands and now he's pinned to a wall…like a martyr pinned to a cross, The little girl's body was not changing, it was not transforming, but he knew what it was, a Demon from the hell dimensions, one that just took everything from him, He didn't think of it before…IT was just an act of kindness a little girl in need…he was played for a fool from the first moment…he killed his family.
"I digress, you seem to have the strongest soul in this dump, so it would be quite the heartening meal, and what an irony it is, your blood is really special isn't it, rich; so blue blooded, those silver eyes…I suppose your family told you your story? Their story? I read it in your old man's mind as I sucked the life out of him, descended from Actual Angels, well as you'd appreciate it If I took the biblical to the next level…." A sword flew half the way across the room impeding itself in Arthur's palm, followed by another….in his other palm "And there….Oh Great & holy Son of God, I weep at your feet, as your holy blood flows, will you absolve me from my sins?" The Demon looked quizzically with the girl's innocent eyes "Nope, I suppose you're the wrong Savior…" He then boomed a hellish laughter that made Arthur shudder….Then opened its mouth at Arthur's side as his palms dripped blood into the Demon's mouth, which opened at an unnatural angle now "ummm ummm ummm! Sweet Delicious blood, but not exactly angelic, is it? I mean if it were I'd be dead by now" Arthur smirked as the ring around his fingers shimmered "You know you piece of hell filth what's the first thing they teach you about blood magic?" The Demon just looked at Arthur "something that your father knew but didn't help him?" Arthur nodded "Perhaps, but I am not my father, and there's no shame in that…." The Demon rolled its eyes back and twirled around resting on the blood pond "Well, you sure are better looking than him…I'm sure the succubi in Hell would love to strum your nerve endings on a beach of lava as they eviscerate you!" Arthur smirked as his tired voice muttered "You first…" his voice got faint so the Demon got up from his chair "Oh come on, don't die on me now, I still would like afew gallons from you before you die…" it walked to Arthur and levitated from the ground near his face, Arthur muttered a couple of faint words "mercy…fate…" The Demon leaned in to listen "what was that, flesh bag?"

"The First thing they teach you about blood magic, is that your blood is your deadliest weapon, consider this Mercy from Fate, you disgusting fiend" and in a moment the girl's body convulsed and its heart got torn out, exploding in Arthur's face as its corpse fell on the ground, lifeless. The swords fell, and so did Arthur, he drew some blood to him to heal himself but he was too tired…..Everything went black. Just as he fainted he heard the buzzing of a bee in the room, and he could swear he heard a couple of words….he discerned only one sentence

"'''Save Me, Archangel'''"

Next day when he woke up he was in a bed, music was playing, he recognized the tune, Nocturne on C-sharp Minor by Chopin, he loved it growing up, next to his bed sat a woman who wore a simple white blouse & black slacks, the cross dangled around her neck, she smiled at him "Welcome back Lord Seymour, I'm here to present to you an opportunity"
Arthur nodded as he readjusted, he sat up and on his bedside table was the chain Maria wore & his father's ring, he looked at the cross around her neck and he knew why she was here, it was time "I'm listening".

=• Personality & mannerisms •=

Arthur's personality has shifted significantly thanks to what happened to him when he was younger, now in his thirties, he attempts his best to retain the humanity that is still left in him; He's cultured, sophisticated, collected, composed as a gentleman at almost all times, he often greets people with a polite smile.

He makes sure he brings honor & pride to his family's name as such he strives to be polite, and does his best to represent his name well, He is descended from Templar Old guard, but he has the ideals of the New Guard in his mind, He remains tolerant, but is suspicious of anything that isn't human, and anyone who doesn't wear the Templar colors makes him somewhat cautious. Illuminati in particular leave a sour taste in his mouth, and Vampires pressure an old wound from his past. He doesn't go out of his way to fight inhumans or monstrous opponents, so he won't stir up a problem if the creatures keep to themselves, but He rarely can help himself if some creature caused a problem, for he upholds the chief tenet of the Templars; The War on Evil must be uncompromising.

Contrary to his status though, Arthur is somewhat geeky, He's also highly artistic enjoying good music, good literature & art in all its forms striving for the Templar ideal being a cultured holy warrior, seeking to banish the image burned into the biased masses about the Templars being fascist and imperialistic, to that end; he keeps himself clean shaven & well dressed at all times, showing discipline, despite the fact that he is not a warrior by nature.

He's passionate about the histories of the world's cultures and is always eager to learn, he is also highly interested in the occult and all the fields related to it.

Arthur has a strict code of honor and is highly ethical and moral, though he is far from being a conservative, his word is something he holds sacred, and will rarely if ever break a vow or a promise he gave, He can also be a bigger picture guy, for he more than often has worked with members of the other societies, albeit begrudgingly.

He cares about humanity & has an admiration & appreciation for human life, and he abhors taking a life...a remnant from his original persona, the tragedies of the secret world often resonate with him, and he genuinely feels saddened when he has to put down an innocent just because the Darkness got to them, never the less he doesn't hesitate for he knows there's more at stake and his hesitation could mean his death and more importantly the death of others, and he cannot abide that.

The Dark Days are here, and the world is drowning in filth, and it falls upon the Strong to save the weak and fend for those who cannot fend for themselves, Arthur might have hated the fact that he's a Soldier, but in the War on Evil, one is either a Soldier or a victim.

Arthur's obsession with Angels can somewhat be apparent, even the nickname he chose for himself is an Anagram for the Archangel of Fate in the Diablo franchise, signifying his geeky nature & his devotion to the war effort, for the Angels fight Evil since the beginning of time and he intends to keep fighting for the good of mankind, serving the purpose of the Seymours as the Family Legends tell.

He is described as a man of honor, Stubborn, empathetic, kind, compassionate and friendly. He can be of a loving nature and highly selfless if the need be. He believes in honesty, loyalty and Trust, he only breaks his word only if he was lied to or tricked, and he shows a fierce vindictive side to remedy this breach of trust as he sees it. He's well known for speaking his mind & being of a fierce temper though he buries it well under a mask of polite and collected calm demeanor.

He's knowledgeable and can somewhat be deceptive if need be, despite everything he maintains an optimistic and open-minded view of the world, though he isn't often surprised when things turn ill for others, merely disappointed.

He is emotionally hardened and has difficulty expressing and receiving love, particularly because of losing everyone he once held dear, he keeps himself isolated which led to him possessing poor people skills at times, and had his introversion develop further. He is also capable of forgiveness and has shown his capability to reign in his more violent urges, despite the tragedy he's lived through.

He desires to appear well kept, noble & honorable man, who's dedicated to the cause of saving humanity as a whole, to become worthy of his Angelic heritage.

=• Relations within the Order •=

Arthur Seymour, thanks to his name is somewhat of a uniquely position Templar, He's both a testament to the strengths offered by the old and the new guard, not as archaic as the old guard but has the name to proudly sit among them, a true aristocratic blue blood. And also not discriminating based on rank, race or class, He only values the efficiency of his Peers, he judges people based on Merit, making him also popular with the New Guard.

He can often be found in Temple Club conversing with Sir Iain Tibet Gladstone and can be often found listening to many of his long lectures as well as enjoying the company of the stuart sisters, Despite being favored by both the old and the new guard, he prefers the company of the New guard more, although he finds it difficult to join them in say, the Crusades, for the establishment itself doesn't fit his tastes, and neither do many of its patrons.

=• Special Notes •=
Arthur is often seen wearing his family's ring, a single stone silver ring with a Cross and several symbols carved on it, the Ring itself is a family heirloom, been passed from Seymour elders to their children for generations; rumor has it that the Ring stores memories and information learned by the bearer and can retrieve them when desired, leading to the Seymour men being accomplished magi & warlocks...or when they desire to be fierce and accurate warriors and hunters, He also wears his late fiancee's necklace as a constant reminder of what the world can do or take from him if he let his guard down, the Necklace itself is not without its own powers, it has protective properties, though how potent remains unexplored.

Arthur is highly versed in Blood magic of all the other fields, and he seeks to learn more about Elementalism, he is also an accomplished duelist & marksman, preferring not to waste his bullets often find their mark. and his movements are not elaborate but they conserve his energy due to his slim physique, he is often under risk of being overpowered as such he tries to conserve energy and only act on an advantage, if his advantage is lost or he lacks it, he prefers to wait, if the option of waiting is not available he utilizes his levelheaded nature and strategic mindset to Create that Advantage, which led to him being sent on several otherwise challenging missions only for him to succeed in achieving his goals.

=• Physical Appearance •=
Arthur is slim built, though he is not as weak as he looks, his eyes are distinctly silver, his hair is dark brown, he sometimes wears glasses to try and look even less menacing, when he wants to glean information or try and not stand out, his hair is often messy, against his best attempts to tame it, but it rarely spirals totally out of control, his voice is somewhat soft. He doesn't weigh much but as mentioned he is deceptively slim. he is often clean shaven and well dressed.

=• Remarks •=

- Arthur has a special hatred for Vampires and Demons, if you're either, best that you not bring it up to him for he gets uneasy and may immediately consider someone who's either, a Threat.

- For A Templar, Arthur is fairly tolerant with faction tags, though he remains distrustful, he may be willing to team up for the greater good or to quell a great threat, and because he is bound by his word, he would probably never break that agreement unless the other party does so.

- Being cultured and sophisticated he doesn't often hang out in Clubs, preferring instead gentlemen clubs like the Temple club or places like the Horned God, if you seek RP with him, seek him out there.

- Arthur is a well trained marksman, though he doesn't enjoy talking about it, while being somewhat experienced with his own rifle & occasionally guns, he doesn't use technical terms or mention them at all infact, he is more inclined to speak about different forms of magic, trying to give the impression that he is not a soldier but a warlock or a magus.

- Arthur has artistic tendencies, his command over the language is one of his strong points, he enjoys poetry & literature, knows many of the classics among music as well not just Literature, he can give Old man vibes sometimes.


<headertabs/>

File:Assamite vizier jason maier.png

2020-04-13T14:04:24Z

Akhmenukep:

Amjad Selim

2020-04-13T12:46:53Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe / The Sparrow
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a British Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough.

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted in this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, he'd often dismiss them as fabrications of his subconscious, or just results of him enjoying perhaps too many TTRPGs and other works of fantasy with his friends, but it seems that Gaia had her eyes on this one even before he was needed.

The day of the Tokyo bombing was just a day to him, he finished his work early, left for his place, took a bath and ate a little then headed off to his friend's place for a TTRPG session, it all went so normally but he couldn't help but see something or rather someone always hidden in the side of his gaze, hidden but not too hidden, a man draped in green robes, whenever he turned to look at him, he was no longer there, it unnerved him slightly but the rest of the day gave him no reason to be too paranoid, after the session ended he went home and lied in his bed, gazing into the ceiling just listening to a podcast he was not aware of Tokyo at all, the podcast turned to static noise as he fell asleep, he had an odd vision but despite how he wanted to feel....he felt right. Especially after he woke up, when that first explosion of Anima triggered in him, he was delighted, he smiled, he laughed, this was magic, and even though he spent a week or so trying to stop himself from destroying his apartment he was excited at the prospect, to do magic. To help protect the world. He was somewhat idealistic, must have been the effect of all this heavy immersion in fantasy. There was a knock on the door....Everything can change.

Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• The Storyteller •=

Amjad has always loved a good story, he loved learning about histories, and when his powers manifested and he was taken, he devoured any piece of new knowledge with a remarkable zeal, prior to his awakening as he calls it, he always believed that he wasn't of this day and age, his belief in reincarnation grants him a certain delusion that his life began in Ancient Egypt, and it shows in how he looks; he is almost always seen sporting an eyeliner shaped in the style of the Ancient Egyptians, a call back to his ideals, where he feels he truly should've been born. And yet to be of this modern day and age is good because it gives him access to more stories, more inspiration. This might be a boon for him, for in the Secret world; Lore is not just tall tales, but an echo of a power that a dedicated soul may turn into a thundering boom of potency. So he strives to learn. His nature is such a great asset for people almost always feel compelled to tell him their stories or things they went through, it makes him one of the Dragon's greatest assets in intelligence gathering and he, unbeknownst to him, is one of their favored variables. His goals however are focused simply on understanding, and on finding more stories, an obsession he had prior to what he calls "his awakening" but one that seemed amplified by his induction into the Secret War, and while it is mostly harmless for others, his knowledge-seeking has a dark side, rumor has it that his time in the field made him willing to understand more of the nature of the Filth and the Dreamers, though nothing serious surfaced that condemns or questions his loyalties for his outward demeanor hides his curiosity, and fascination with the Dreamers and their machinations.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's an agent of the Dragon, and his somewhat friendly demeanor and non-threatening appearance earned him many friends worldwide, his hunt for knowledge and artifacts and his Egyptian background led to him forming contacts within the Kingdom, whom he usually visits and shares drinks with one or two of its members, listening for their stories, Amjad also likes the Djinn and have been striving to win their respects for he sees them as unabashed masters of Elementalism, a branch of the mystic arts he wants to cover, his love for arts and antiquities, led him to the Phoenicians and still, to this day, they try to take him from the Dragon, will they succeed? The coin is still turning.

=• Special Notes •=
Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the bee did not awaken magical potential, for his magical potential and his seeming unity with the world and its pulse granted him visions and dreams of the other ages and events he by no need should've known, and it aided him in more ways than one, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a new set of skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient Egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a seeker of knowledge. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to achieve his rather impossible quest to learn everything, find the greatest stories, and if the rumors are to be believed find a way to harness the Dreamers to achieve his goals without the side effects he has seen.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2020-04-13T12:39:36Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee (reincarnated)
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough.

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted in this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, he'd often dismiss them as fabrications of his subconscious, or just results of him enjoying perhaps too many TTRPGs and other works of fantasy with his friends, but it seems that Gaia had her eyes on this one even before he was needed.

The day of the Tokyo bombing was just a day to him, he finished his work early, left for his place, took a bath and ate a little then headed off to his friend's place for a TTRPG session, it all went so normally but he couldn't help but see something or rather someone always hidden in the side of his gaze, hidden but not too hidden, a man draped in green robes, whenever he turned to look at him, he was no longer there, it unnerved him slightly but the rest of the day gave him no reason to be too paranoid, after the session ended he went home and lied in his bed, gazing into the ceiling just listening to a podcast he was not aware of Tokyo at all, the podcast turned to static noise as he fell asleep, he had an odd vision but despite how he wanted to feel....he felt right. Especially after he woke up, when that first explosion of Anima triggered in him, he was delighted, he smiled, he laughed, this was magic, and even though he spent a week or so trying to stop himself from destroying his apartment he was excited at the prospect, to do magic. To help protect the world. He was somewhat idealistic, must have been the effect of all this heavy immersion in fantasy. There was a knock on the door....Everything can change.

Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• The Storyteller •=

Amjad has always loved a good story, he loved learning about histories, and when his powers manifested and he was taken, he devoured any piece of new knowledge with a remarkable zeal, prior to his awakening as he calls it, he always believed that he wasn't of this day and age, his belief in reincarnation grants him a certain delusion that his life began in Ancient Egypt, and it shows in how he looks; he is almost always seen sporting an eyeliner shaped in the style of the Ancient Egyptians, a call back to his ideals, where he feels he truly should've been born. And yet to be of this modern day and age is good because it gives him access to more stories, more inspiration. This might be a boon for him, for in the Secret world; Lore is not just tall tales, but an echo of a power that a dedicated soul may turn into a thundering boom of potency. So he strives to learn. His nature is such a great asset for people almost always feel compelled to tell him their stories or things they went through, it makes him one of the Dragon's greatest assets in intelligence gathering and he, unbeknownst to him, is one of their favored variables.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's an agent of the Dragon, and his somewhat friendly demeanor and non-threatening appearance earned him many friends worldwide, his hunt for knowledge and artifacts and his Egyptian background led to him forming contacts within the Kingdom, whom he usually visits and shares drinks with one or two of its members, listening for their stories, Amjad also likes the Djinn and have been striving to win their respects for he sees them as unabashed masters of Elementalism, a branch of the mystic arts he wants to cover, his love for arts and antiquities, led him to the Phoenicians and still, to this day, they try to take him from the Dragon, will they succeed? The coin is still turning.

=• Special Notes •=
Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the bee did not awaken magical potential, for his magical potential and his seeming unity with the world and its pulse granted him visions and dreams of the other ages and events he by no need should've known, and it aided him in more ways than one, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a new set of skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient Egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a seeker of knowledge. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2018-05-28T14:22:44Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = templar
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Fate33d
| nickname =Ithereal
| image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png
| organization =
| job_title = heir/Literature professor
| aliases = Archangel of Fate
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = English
| residence = London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Artorius Byron Seymour was born in the family's mansion in Yorkshire, last in a line of a proud family tracing its roots back to the times of the Crusades, and possibly beyond, there's a long established family tale that recounts how the first of the Seymour bloodline were Angels, who pitied man and descended from the Heavens taking mortal forms to aid mankind in its eternal struggle against evil, both human & otherwise, The family most defining genetic trait has been their silvery eyes, it is said the most gifted and prominent among the Seymours would be born with silver eyes.
The Seymours have had strong ties to the Templars, as such their son was bred to be among the best of the elite, taught in and well versed in history, arts & literature as well as the classical education mandatory for his more…special studies, he was allowed access to a treasure trove of occult knowledge as well as secret histories, and all was according to his parents plan, the family took pride In their son, who was displaying signs of greatness and potential, worthy of him walking with pride in Temple hall.

Arthur grew up to be somewhat pacifistic, he abhorred violence, and scorned bloodshed, his view of the world was tolerant and merciful, he accepted those different from him and advocated for their rights, such an inclusive and exemplary man of the new cosmopolitan world. Yet he looked around him and saw nothing but chaos, humanity was on the brink of self destruction they were destroying not only themselves but their planet and the whole world around them, through his studies of the world's history he viewed humans, as pack animals, and every pack needs a pack leader, a chain of command seemed to be what holds the world together or send it plummeting further down the spiral of oblivion, it was the burden of those who knew and those strong enough to shoulder the burdens of the world to save it. He himself wanted to be both, he wanted to save the world, he wanted to save everyone his capacity for empathy was always one of his defining qualities.

Arthur has always been obsessed with Angels, the family's legend, their history, his skills, it all helped feed his obsession, his rooms always had sketches and artwork depicting angels and other religious icons, even though he himself wasn't a religious individual, he Prayed, but in his own way, he did solely because it made him feel guided and guarded, He would pray whenever he came close to an undertaking, sometimes it would sound like verse but it rarely ever is, it didn't stop his family from teaching them their history, the significance of faith in that history and about their heirlooms, one particular heirloom that belonged to his father, interested him and was supposed to be significant to him above all, a family ring with a singular pearl, it had engravings all over, in a language that seemed akin to latin but it wasn't, he was told that one day he will earn this, and on that day he would bring his family great pride.

The young man's pacifistic tendencies weren't much to his family's liking though, their family has always been affiliated with the Templars, the protectors of the world from the evils that burrow and breed beneath the artificial curb content to be forgotten and ignored by the masses, but the Cross never forgets to mete out not just mercy but justice and holy fire upon the damned and the villainous, Arthur was more lenient concerning the denizens of the other worlds, he was of the belief that the world would reach a state of harmony only when all its denizens, those human and not work together….an idealist the kind ones would call him, but he was a fool when his family were ever asked.

When the time came he attended Oxford university Majoring in English literature, possibly one of his all time favorite things in the world, alongside archaeology…After he would finish his college he would travel across old Europe visiting old Cathedrals and churches, while neither a protestant nor a catholic he always enjoyed the interiors and the architecture, his was an old soul it was no wonder he loved Europe more than any other place in the world, the Renaissance was meant to be the era he would've been born into if every man was born in the time of his choosing….but he was not without his modern habits, while his phone was still with a keyboard, he enjoyed video-gaming and would often pick a holy warrior in his rpgs, even though he himself was not exactly a physically imposing martial force, to his father's chagrin, for he wanted his son to be a true crusader in mind and body, but his son failed in both endeavors, yet his family viewed their son with pride.

His father was not pleased with his lack of any military training so he did what he had to do, he had his son sent to several institutions aiming to teach him about combat, but the young man was completely against it, even though he found a certain penchant to marksmanship, he was deadly with a rifle on long range, it was as if he was a gifted sniper, he was trained in the old ways, learning to appreciate each shot, he often would smirk to himself as his mentor would say "if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all" the Alan moore references were strong there, he would joke to himself about it, but his mentors clearly had no idea who Alan moore was, Arthur always were worlds apart from men of violence, that's why, while he excelled he never really relished in holding a firearm, a rifle no less, he was an excellent marksman, but it always seemed that he pulled his trigger….reluctantly.

All was well, and pleasant for the rich heir.

=• The Secret War •=

Years went by, Arthur got engaged to a lovely woman, from another family, He loved her dearly, and so did she, although both families were merely arranging the marriage, but both parties seemed pretty content with it all….they were going to announce the engagement on his birthday party….that same weekend he returned from Rome, his fiancée always wore a cross chain around her neck, it always looked beautiful, it had inscriptions on the chain, and said to be ancient, a family heirloom, The De Cosimo family was as prestigious as the Seymours, Maria was also a promising offspring, but the De Cosimos were more affiliated with the Council of Venice, a form of parliament ruling the Secret world, their quest was to basically keep the matter of squabbling secret societies a secret and keep the average man blissfully unaware of the darkness surrounding his world that could close its maws on it at any time. After a trip to Rome, Arthur returned to his family's mansion were the preparations for his engagement, his birthday & the celebration of his return after years of touring the old world were being held, it was another rainy night of England's many rainy nights, as he drove his way home he saw a little girl, not older than twelve cross the road, he braked instantly as he witnessed the girl's clothes were bloodied, and she was crying profusely, then she just fainted….there….on the road, right in front of him.

Taking pity on the little girl who seemed a surviving victim of some sort of abuse, the moors were sometimes unkind, for all manner of creatures, both human and not could run rampant in the night….her clothes and her appearance suggested that she was a survivor of rape, but there were wounds over her throat….Arthur thought that maybe some kids were trying their hand in blood magic or demon summoning, amateurs & fools…she was too weak and he couldn't just leave her in her current state, so he elected to take her home…by the time they got home her skin was getting colder and colder, so he placed her in a guest room, got her some food, and instructed the maid to clean her up and take good care of her. He then proceeded to get ready for his own party that night, the girl had to wait, he was going to get engaged.

As he was adjusting his tie and combing his hair, lights went out, the entire mansion was engulfed in darkness, he then heard screams…several high pitched panicking screams, the men reached for weapons, a ruckus broke out, he himself had to know what happened, the mansion was under attack, the whole mansion apparently, He went for his gun, locked & loaded then headed down, as he closed the door of his room, the last gunshot was heard leaving the whole mansion dead silent….and dark…..Humans always feared the dark, or more aptly, we learned to fear what lurks within it, and he was no exception, his dress shoes were not very practical but he had no time to change….the mansion didn't have many people yet….just his family, his fiancée, they were expecting guests later this week, but not today, he heard a moan, not of pleasure but of pain, the floor was creaking and the sound did not help alleviate his concern, as he looked down the corridor lightning flashed and he saw a human form over another….the latter wearing a white dress, smeared red with blood, there was the sound of chewing and slurping, he made a noise loading his gun, and the creature looked up to him, it had night prowler eyes, not silvery like his, his were holy, these were not, lightning flashed again, then thunder boomed, the creature had blood all over its face and chest…it was a vampire, but it looked familiar. As lightning flashed a couple of times he got a closer look, it was his family's butler....such a grim fate, for such a loyal servant.

In the span of a breath the Vampire was on all fours running towards him, he fired a single shot that went directly through the creature's head….Arthur never panicked, not visibly, he felt fear, but he never truly…panicked, although this was not normal to him, he read the secret histories, he knew what the world had hid then forgotten….He pulled a sword from the mantelpiece, this was a Templar home after all weapons were everywhere, and Severed the creature's head, at which it turned to ash, the sword was always a favorite weapon of his, though it was impractical in this day and age, and the Broadswords were nice, but they were heavy and his body couldn't support them for prolonged periods of time, so he elected to try and find the bullets made to handle the Vampires, he didn't know how many of them broke into the house, He went to check on the corpse the Vampire was draining yet he couldn't see well in the dark….He needed a flashlight….He needed to get his own rifle, it's in the Arsenal alongside the other weapons and the bullets….lightning flashed again interrupting his thoughts and almost immediately all blood drained from his face…it was his mother….He froze in his place, unable to even respond, he knew of loss but this was…unexpected, he knew death claims everyone but he hoped like all children with their mothers that death would spare her, that her Fate becomes outlasting his own…he kissed her forehead and got up, She was bitten by a vampire. She could turn, he was trying to banish the thoughts from his head, he couldn't, he shouldn't she deserves her rest, he thought, the hand holding the blade shivered….and with an anguished cry he raised the blade and decapitated his own mother then fell to his knees wrestling his own tears…but he had little time to grief as he heard the lumbering of a creature upstairs, there was a loud noise…whatever menace that caused this must have made its way upstairs…He slowly and as silently as possible he found the arsenal taking his custom made rifle, and loading it with blessed bullets…Why, he was wondering, why it wasn’t him that died….maybe he would at the end of this night….the storm raged outside, which meant phonelines were dead, there was no back up coming to him, not that he knew any.

Arthur travelled through the mansion, with wary steps, having to dispatch a vampire every room or two, it was as if an entire coven came to the mansion, but they were all weak, relatively speaking, a coven of young new bloods? It wasn't unheard, of, He wished he had more than his rifle, but there was really nothing he can do, he could search for some arcane trinkets, he knew how to perform blood rituals after all, but it was impractical, he can't read from the books in this light, his elementalism was rusty as well and he didn't memorize many spells, maybe a couple of ones to heal his wounds, but nothing too major….He was now at the top floor, and he was exhausted, not physically but it seemed a mountain of burden fell on his shoulders; he lost his mother, he found his sister's corpse torn apart and mangled by a pack of the fiends….the maid was dead, he now was worried about Maria, the child he saved & his father….He hasn't found them yet, and there was only one room left in the entire mansion, his father's study.
He took a succession of deep breathes, then slowly opened the double doors, that were covered in blood as if painted by some sick artist, He saw his father standing at the window staring into the moors, his back was hunched and his hands drooped beside him as if he were dead, but he wasn't he was standing there, around his father's finger shone the ring, his family's heirloom, but it was searing the man's flesh, but he didn't flinch, he wasn't flinching, he looked to the desk and saw her, Maria, or what is left of her, she was naked, drenched in blood, he smelled the stale smell of piss on her, she must've been afraid…before she died…she was dead, feasted upon by the vampires, apparently and the old man just stood, there was a sound of munching, and a strange glow around him….It didn't take time for Arthur to figure it out….his father died too, but he was reanimated….a shadow of his former self….he turned slowly to face his son who aimed his rifle at him as he muttered desperately, with naivety, he knew it but he couldn’t help himself "father…? What happened?" the shambling corpse growled, and walked towards Arthur he kept his weapon trained "Father please, stay back…" more growling was the only response he got as the zombie shambled towards him, Whatever Vampire that did this must be powerful, reanimation magic was supposed to be lost….or at the very least rarely practiced….his gaze drifted to Maria's ravaged corpse and he felt even heavier, his heart was thundering in his chest….He lost everyone…Everyone he held dear, on the span of one night, Why did it happen to him, Why Him, his sadness began to fester into anger, he looked at the corpse of the old man shambling towards him, picking up pace, the ring burning in its hand, he kept the rifle trained and took a step back to keep the distance "I never dreamed that I would father such an unworthy son!" His eyes widened in horror as his father's voice came from the corpse "Look at you, you smell of fear, of weakness….even the bitch we chose for you knew you were weak, when she was dying she didn't even scream for you…she knew you can't save her…."

"that's Enough…"

"Failure. Weakling….your mother and sister delighted in being ravaged and joining the coven…"

"No…"

"No Son of Mine would've let that happen, I would have bred a warrior not a Coward!"

"I am no son of yours, Corpse, my father is Dead…."

"Your father considered you dead too"

"I said ENOUGH!!!"

He snapped and pulled the trigger firing a hail of bullets at his father's zombie form the onslaught was too much for the corpse that was reanimated with dark magic, the strain, led to it collapsing and then disintegrating at rapid speed, unnatural speed.
In a moment there was nothing but silence, the sound of rain, the booming of thunder, he walked to where his father's corpse were, and he knelt and took the ring "Requiescat in pace, father, I will make sure it is kept safe…I will make you proud…" once he slipped on the ring, he felt something odd coursing through him, power, he began to feel as if volumes of arcane books just opened in his mind, he remembered spells, and memories he didn't have before, was it the ring?

A feminine voice cut the silence that followed it came from the corpse "Why did you not love me enough, Princes proposed to me, men of stature, real men…but my family chose you, for your name…"Maria's corpse rose, slowly, reanimated as well, the necromancer was here, in the room, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he was being systematically broken, he knew, he always knew…but he couldn’t help but feel even worse, the rifle began to feel heavy in his hands, the woman's corpse walked to him "You can still prove your love for me, beloved, let go of your weapon, hold me in your arms, prove to me that you can love, that you love me, join me…."
The Rifle got even heavier, the room felt to be getting smaller, the air thinner, he was cold and exhausted, the sleeves of his shirt ,folded, were covered in the blood of those he killed, blood, there was blood on him, the blood of his mother, of his sister, of his father…the woman he loved….he drowns in blood….

Her hands slithered around his neck as she embraced him looking into his eyes with glassy eyes, she was dead and maybe he should join her too, he deserves it after losing everything it was time, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, he saw the pearl ring "I'm sorry Maria, I could've saved you….but it is too late….I'm sorry" he smiled as the blood on him began to take form, it formed a circle around Maria's feet as he backed away, and in the span of a moment she was reduced to a pond of blood "I'm sorry Maria…" She was dead.
The pond of blood was so flawless that he saw his own reflection in it, behind him was a painting of an Angel, wings spread he saw his silvery eyes and the Angel's wings on him he cocked his head slowly, was he going insane? What kind of insanity has him pondering if he was going insane? He seemed sane, it seemed that his fate was to suffer the horror of what just transpired, but it was not over yet….a young feminine voice echoed in the study

"''You are a strong one, any other man would've broken by now, clawing at his face or putting a bullet through his own brain…''"

He turned around his rifle trained he began to utter a prayer to empower the bullets in his rifle, a couple of blood spells came to his mind just in case he may need them, that ring was useful, I suppose that's why it was handed down for generations, there seemed to be a trove of knowledge desiring to flood through a keyhole, he didn't know how to use this ring yet, he was going to be passed to him later on, not now, when his father died after teaching him its secrets and his family's secrets, the voice interrupted his voice again "''I took a liking to you, Lord Seymour, since the title is now yours….your late father was no challenge at all, whether to kill or reanimate, my boys took good care of him…and special care of your mom & your sister….even more special delicious care with Maria here….''"

"Show yourself Fiend, taunting me through my family did you no good so now you resort to the shadows? Come Forth Coward….and answer for your crimes"

"''Pleasant speech, where did you get that from? Plagiarizing is a better possibility than you actually speaking those words, if you're so formal and old….you sound even older than me and I am Fairly old…a century old maybe….though it never shows….a strict beauty regiment makes sure of that….blood baths like this one help too…''"

He heard the sound of heels on the wooden floor, and suddenly the fireplace erupted and light flooded the room, shocking his eyes for a moment but he tried to shake it off quickly to get his bearing and on the chair by the fireplace, sat the 12 year old girl, the girl he saved, she looked so innocent, so afraid "Please sir, help me, they took me from my father and raped me, they almost killed me trying to carve these weird symbols on my body…it was it was…." She sobbed burying her face in her hands he ran to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder "there there, it is over now, you're alive…we will be alright….we will be…"

"It was…." She looked up to his face and grinned as her eyes turned blood red "It was riveting!"

Arthur was shoved back with such a force and hit the book shelves he was being crushed by the weight of some force "You Humans are soooo predictable!"

The Little girl pranced about dancing in the pond of blood that was Maria, gallantly as if she was dancing on water "I haven't feasted on human flesh for such a long time, but your family was so hospitable, your kindness most welcome, Lord Arthur Seymour, mind if I call you Arty? We've begun on the wrong foot here, but come on, I was just summoned into the body of a small girl, I needed to eat, like sure you get hungry too right? RIGHT? Having a sister and a fiancée like that, I would've been hungry to those too, well, I was I just had them…you get what I mean" Arthur's rage was climbing higher and higher, his rifle fell from his hands and now he's pinned to a wall…like a martyr pinned to a cross, The little girl's body was not changing, it was not transforming, but he knew what it was, a Demon from the hell dimensions, one that just took everything from him, He didn't think of it before…IT was just an act of kindness a little girl in need…he was played for a fool from the first moment…he killed his family.
"I digress, you seem to have the strongest soul in this dump, so it would be quite the heartening meal, and what an irony it is, your blood is really special isn't it, rich; so blue blooded, those silver eyes…I suppose your family told you your story? Their story? I read it in your old man's mind as I sucked the life out of him, descended from Actual Angels, well as you'd appreciate it If I took the biblical to the next level…." A sword flew half the way across the room impeding itself in Arthur's palm, followed by another….in his other palm "And there….Oh Great & holy Son of God, I weep at your feet, as your holy blood flows, will you absolve me from my sins?" The Demon looked quizzically with the girl's innocent eyes "Nope, I suppose you're the wrong Savior…" He then boomed a hellish laughter that made Arthur shudder….Then opened its mouth at Arthur's side as his palms dripped blood into the Demon's mouth, which opened at an unnatural angle now "ummm ummm ummm! Sweet Delicious blood, but not exactly angelic, is it? I mean if it were I'd be dead by now" Arthur smirked as the ring around his fingers shimmered "You know you piece of hell filth what's the first thing they teach you about blood magic?" The Demon just looked at Arthur "something that your father knew but didn't help him?" Arthur nodded "Perhaps, but I am not my father, and there's no shame in that…." The Demon rolled its eyes back and twirled around resting on the blood pond "Well, you sure are better looking than him…I'm sure the succubi in Hell would love to strum your nerve endings on a beach of lava as they eviscerate you!" Arthur smirked as his tired voice muttered "You first…" his voice got faint so the Demon got up from his chair "Oh come on, don't die on me now, I still would like afew gallons from you before you die…" it walked to Arthur and levitated from the ground near his face, Arthur muttered a couple of faint words "mercy…fate…" The Demon leaned in to listen "what was that, flesh bag?"

"The First thing they teach you about blood magic, is that your blood is your deadliest weapon, consider this Mercy from Fate, you disgusting fiend" and in a moment the girl's body convulsed and its heart got torn out, exploding in Arthur's face as its corpse fell on the ground, lifeless. The swords fell, and so did Arthur, he drew some blood to him to heal himself but he was too tired…..Everything went black. Just as he fainted he heard the buzzing of a bee in the room, and he could swear he heard a couple of words….he discerned only one sentence

"'''Save Me, Archangel'''"

Next day when he woke up he was in a bed, music was playing, he recognized the tune, Nocturne on C-sharp Minor by Chopin, he loved it growing up, next to his bed sat a woman who wore a simple white blouse & black slacks, the cross dangled around her neck, she smiled at him "Welcome back Lord Seymour, I'm here to present to you an opportunity"
Arthur nodded as he readjusted, he sat up and on his bedside table was the chain Maria wore & his father's ring, he looked at the cross around her neck and he knew why she was here, it was time "I'm listening".

=• Personality & mannerisms •=

Arthur's personality has shifted significantly thanks to what happened to him when he was younger, now in his thirties, he attempts his best to retain the humanity that is still left in him; He's cultured, sophisticated, collected, composed as a gentleman at almost all times, he often greets people with a polite smile.

He makes sure he brings honor & pride to his family's name as such he strives to be polite, and does his best to represent his name well, He is descended from Templar Old guard, but he has the ideals of the New Guard in his mind, He remains tolerant, but is suspicious of anything that isn't human, and anyone who doesn't wear the Templar colors makes him somewhat cautious. Illuminati in particular leave a sour taste in his mouth, and Vampires pressure an old wound from his past. He doesn't go out of his way to fight inhumans or monstrous opponents, so he won't stir up a problem if the creatures keep to themselves, but He rarely can help himself if some creature caused a problem, for he upholds the chief tenet of the Templars; The War on Evil must be uncompromising.

Contrary to his status though, Arthur is somewhat geeky, He's also highly artistic enjoying good music, good literature & art in all its forms striving for the Templar ideal being a cultured holy warrior, seeking to banish the image burned into the biased masses about the Templars being fascist and imperialistic, to that end; he keeps himself clean shaven & well dressed at all times, showing discipline, despite the fact that he is not a warrior by nature.

He's passionate about the histories of the world's cultures and is always eager to learn, he is also highly interested in the occult and all the fields related to it.

Arthur has a strict code of honor and is highly ethical and moral, though he is far from being a conservative, his word is something he holds sacred, and will rarely if ever break a vow or a promise he gave, He can also be a bigger picture guy, for he more than often has worked with members of the other societies, albeit begrudgingly.

He cares about humanity & has an admiration & appreciation for human life, and he abhors taking a life...a remnant from his original persona, the tragedies of the secret world often resonate with him, and he genuinely feels saddened when he has to put down an innocent just because the Darkness got to them, never the less he doesn't hesitate for he knows there's more at stake and his hesitation could mean his death and more importantly the death of others, and he cannot abide that.

The Dark Days are here, and the world is drowning in filth, and it falls upon the Strong to save the weak and fend for those who cannot fend for themselves, Arthur might have hated the fact that he's a Soldier, but in the War on Evil, one is either a Soldier or a victim.

Arthur's obsession with Angels can somewhat be apparent, even the nickname he chose for himself is an Anagram for the Archangel of Fate in the Diablo franchise, signifying his geeky nature & his devotion to the war effort, for the Angels fight Evil since the beginning of time and he intends to keep fighting for the good of mankind, serving the purpose of the Seymours as the Family Legends tell.

He is described as a man of honor, Stubborn, empathetic, kind, compassionate and friendly. He can be of a loving nature and highly selfless if the need be. He believes in honesty, loyalty and Trust, he only breaks his word only if he was lied to or tricked, and he shows a fierce vindictive side to remedy this breach of trust as he sees it. He's well known for speaking his mind & being of a fierce temper though he buries it well under a mask of polite and collected calm demeanor.

He's knowledgable and can somewhat be deceptive if need be, despite everything he maintains an optimistic and open-minded view of the world, though he isnt often surprised when things turn ill for others, merely disappointed.

He is emotionally hardened and has difficulty expressing and receiving love, particularly because of losing everyone he once held dear, he keeps himself isolated which led to him possessing poor people skills at times, and had his introversion develop further. He is also capable of forgiveness and has shown his capability to reign in his more violent urges, despite the tragedy he's lived through.

His Desire to appear well kept, noble & honorable man, who's dedicated to the cause of saving humanity as a whole, to become worthy of his Angelic heritage, or so he thinks.

=• Relations within the Order •=

Arthur Seymour, thanks to his name is somewhat of a uniquely position Templar, He's both a testament to the strengths offered by the old and the new guard, not as archaic as the old guard but has the name to proudly sit among them, a true aristocratic blue blood. And also not discriminating based on rank, race or class, He only values the efficiency of his Peers, he judges people based on Merit, making him also popular with the New Guard.

He can often be found in Temple Club conversing with Sir Iain Tibet Gladstone and can be often found listening to many of his long lectures as well as enjoying the company of the stuart sisters, Despite being favored by both the old and the new guard, he prefers the company of the New guard more, although he finds it difficult to join them in say, the Crusades, for the establishment itself doesn't fit his tastes, and neither do many of its patrons.

=• Special Notes •=
Arthur is often seen wearing his family's ring, a single stone silver ring with a Cross and several symbols carved on it, the Ring itself is a family heirloom, been passed from Seymour elders to their children for generations; rumor has it that the Ring stores memories and information learned by the bearer and can retrieve them when desired, leading to the Seymour men being accomplished magi & warlocks...or when they desire to be fierce and accurate warriors and hunters, He also wears his late fiancee's necklace as a constant reminder of what the world can do or take from him if he let his guard down, the Necklace itself is not without its own powers, it has protective properties, though how potent remains unexplored.

Arthur is highly versed in Blood magic of all the other fields, and he seeks to learn more about Elementalism, he is also an accomplished duelist & marksman, preferring not to waste his bullets often find their mark. and his movements are not elaborate but they conserve his energy due to his slim physique, he is often under risk of being overpowered as such he tries to conserve energy and only act on an advantage, if his advantage is lost or he lacks it, he prefers to wait, if the option of waiting is not available he utilizes his levelheaded nature and strategic mindset to Create that Advantage, which led to him being sent on several otherwise challenging missions only for him to succeed in achieving his goals.

=• Physical Appearance •=
Arthur is slim built, though he is not as weak as he looks, his eyes are distinctly silver, his hair is dark brown, he sometimes wears glasses to try and look even less menacing, when he wants to glean information or try and not stand out, his hair is often messy, against his best attempts to tame it, but it rarely spirals totally out of control, his voice is somewhat soft. He doesn't weigh much but as mentioned he is deceptively slim. he is often clean shaven and well dressed.

=• Remarks •=

- Arthur has a special hatred for Vampires and Demons, if you're either, best that you not bring it up to him for he gets uneasy and may immediately consider someone who's either, a Threat.

- For A Templar, Arthur is fairly tolerant with faction tags, though he remains distrustful, he may be willing to team up for the greater good or to quell a great threat, and because he is bound by his word, he would probably never break that agreement unless the other party does so.

- Being cultured and sophisticated he doesn't often hang out in Clubs, preferring instead gentlemen clubs like the Temple club or places like the Horned God, if you seek RP with him, seek him out there.

- Arthur is a well trained marksman, though he doesn't enjoy talking about it, while being somewhat experienced with his own rifle & occasionally guns, he doesn't use technical terms or mention them at all infact, he is more inclined to speak about different forms of magic, trying to give the impression that he is not a soldier but a warlock or a magus.

- Arthur has artistic tendencies, his command over the language is one of his strong points, he enjoys poetry & literature, knows many of the classics among music as well not just Literature, he can give Old man vibes sometimes.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2018-05-28T14:08:07Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = templar
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Fate33d
| nickname =Ithereal
| image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png
| organization =
| job_title = heir/Literature professor
| aliases = Archangel of Fate
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = English
| residence = London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Artorius Byron Seymour was born in the family's mansion in Yorkshire, last in a line of a proud family tracing its roots back to the times of the Crusades, and possibly beyond, there's a long established family tale that recounts how the first of the Seymour bloodline were Angels, who pitied man and descended from the Heavens taking mortal forms to aid mankind in its eternal struggle against evil, both human & otherwise, The family most defining genetic trait has been their silvery eyes, it is said the most gifted and prominent among the Seymours would be born with silver eyes.
The Seymours have had strong ties to the Templars, as such their son was bred to be among the best of the elite, taught in and well versed in history, arts & literature as well as the classical education mandatory for his more…special studies, he was allowed access to a treasure trove of occult knowledge as well as secret histories, and all was according to his parents plan, the family took pride In their son, who was displaying signs of greatness and potential, worthy of him walking with pride in Temple hall.

Arthur grew up to be somewhat pacifistic, he abhorred violence, and scorned bloodshed, his view of the world was tolerant and merciful, he accepted those different from him and advocated for their rights, such an inclusive and exemplary man of the new cosmopolitan world. Yet he looked around him and saw nothing but chaos, humanity was on the brink of self destruction they were destroying not only themselves but their planet and the whole world around them, through his studies of the world's history he viewed humans, as pack animals, and every pack needs a pack leader, a chain of command seemed to be what holds the world together or send it plummeting further down the spiral of oblivion, it was the burden of those who knew and those strong enough to shoulder the burdens of the world to save it. He himself wanted to be both, he wanted to save the world, he wanted to save everyone his capacity for empathy was always one of his defining qualities.

Arthur has always been obsessed with Angels, the family's legend, their history, his skills, it all helped feed his obsession, his rooms always had sketches and artwork depicting angels and other religious icons, even though he himself wasn't a religious individual, he Prayed, but in his own way, he did solely because it made him feel guided and guarded, He would pray whenever he came close to an undertaking, sometimes it would sound like verse but it rarely ever is, it didn't stop his family from teaching them their history, the significance of faith in that history and about their heirlooms, one particular heirloom that belonged to his father, interested him and was supposed to be significant to him above all, a family ring with a singular pearl, it had engravings all over, in a language that seemed akin to latin but it wasn't, he was told that one day he will earn this, and on that day he would bring his family great pride.

The young man's pacifistic tendencies weren't much to his family's liking though, their family has always been affiliated with the Templars, the protectors of the world from the evils that burrow and breed beneath the artificial curb content to be forgotten and ignored by the masses, but the Cross never forgets to mete out not just mercy but justice and holy fire upon the damned and the villainous, Arthur was more lenient concerning the denizens of the other worlds, he was of the belief that the world would reach a state of harmony only when all its denizens, those human and not work together….an idealist the kind ones would call him, but he was a fool when his family were ever asked.

When the time came he attended Oxford university Majoring in English literature, possibly one of his all time favorite things in the world, alongside archaeology…After he would finish his college he would travel across old Europe visiting old Cathedrals and churches, while neither a protestant nor a catholic he always enjoyed the interiors and the architecture, his was an old soul it was no wonder he loved Europe more than any other place in the world, the Renaissance was meant to be the era he would've been born into if every man was born in the time of his choosing….but he was not without his modern habits, while his phone was still with a keyboard, he enjoyed video-gaming and would often pick a holy warrior in his rpgs, even though he himself was not exactly a physically imposing martial force, to his father's chagrin, for he wanted his son to be a true crusader in mind and body, but his son failed in both endeavors, yet his family viewed their son with pride.

His father was not pleased with his lack of any military training so he did what he had to do, he had his son sent to several institutions aiming to teach him about combat, but the young man was completely against it, even though he found a certain penchant to marksmanship, he was deadly with a rifle on long range, it was as if he was a gifted sniper, he was trained in the old ways, learning to appreciate each shot, he often would smirk to himself as his mentor would say "if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all" the Alan moore references were strong there, he would joke to himself about it, but his mentors clearly had no idea who Alan moore was, Arthur always were worlds apart from men of violence, that's why, while he excelled he never really relished in holding a firearm, a rifle no less, he was an excellent marksman, but it always seemed that he pulled his trigger….reluctantly.

All was well, and pleasant for the rich heir.

=• The Secret War •=

Years went by, Arthur got engaged to a lovely woman, from another family, He loved her dearly, and so did she, although both families were merely arranging the marriage, but both parties seemed pretty content with it all….they were going to announce the engagement on his birthday party….that same weekend he returned from Rome, his fiancée always wore a cross chain around her neck, it always looked beautiful, it had inscriptions on the chain, and said to be ancient, a family heirloom, The De Cosimo family was as prestigious as the Seymours, Maria was also a promising offspring, but the De Cosimos were more affiliated with the Council of Venice, a form of parliament ruling the Secret world, their quest was to basically keep the matter of squabbling secret societies a secret and keep the average man blissfully unaware of the darkness surrounding his world that could close its maws on it at any time. After a trip to Rome, Arthur returned to his family's mansion were the preparations for his engagement, his birthday & the celebration of his return after years of touring the old world were being held, it was another rainy night of England's many rainy nights, as he drove his way home he saw a little girl, not older than twelve cross the road, he braked instantly as he witnessed the girl's clothes were bloodied, and she was crying profusely, then she just fainted….there….on the road, right in front of him.

Taking pity on the little girl who seemed a surviving victim of some sort of abuse, the moors were sometimes unkind, for all manner of creatures, both human and not could run rampant in the night….her clothes and her appearance suggested that she was a survivor of rape, but there were wounds over her throat….Arthur thought that maybe some kids were trying their hand in blood magic or demon summoning, amateurs & fools…she was too weak and he couldn't just leave her in her current state, so he elected to take her home…by the time they got home her skin was getting colder and colder, so he placed her in a guest room, got her some food, and instructed the maid to clean her up and take good care of her. He then proceeded to get ready for his own party that night, the girl had to wait, he was going to get engaged.

As he was adjusting his tie and combing his hair, lights went out, the entire mansion was engulfed in darkness, he then heard screams…several high pitched panicking screams, the men reached for weapons, a ruckus broke out, he himself had to know what happened, the mansion was under attack, the whole mansion apparently, He went for his gun, locked & loaded then headed down, as he closed the door of his room, the last gunshot was heard leaving the whole mansion dead silent….and dark…..Humans always feared the dark, or more aptly, we learned to fear what lurks within it, and he was no exception, his dress shoes were not very practical but he had no time to change….the mansion didn't have many people yet….just his family, his fiancée, they were expecting guests later this week, but not today, he heard a moan, not of pleasure but of pain, the floor was creaking and the sound did not help alleviate his concern, as he looked down the corridor lightning flashed and he saw a human form over another….the latter wearing a white dress, smeared red with blood, there was the sound of chewing and slurping, he made a noise loading his gun, and the creature looked up to him, it had night prowler eyes, not silvery like his, his were holy, these were not, lightning flashed again, then thunder boomed, the creature had blood all over its face and chest…it was a vampire, but it looked familiar. As lightning flashed a couple of times he got a closer look, it was his family's butler....such a grim fate, for such a loyal servant.

In the span of a breath the Vampire was on all fours running towards him, he fired a single shot that went directly through the creature's head….Arthur never panicked, not visibly, he felt fear, but he never truly…panicked, although this was not normal to him, he read the secret histories, he knew what the world had hid then forgotten….He pulled a sword from the mantelpiece, this was a Templar home after all weapons were everywhere, and Severed the creature's head, at which it turned to ash, the sword was always a favorite weapon of his, though it was impractical in this day and age, and the Broadswords were nice, but they were heavy and his body couldn't support them for prolonged periods of time, so he elected to try and find the bullets made to handle the Vampires, he didn't know how many of them broke into the house, He went to check on the corpse the Vampire was draining yet he couldn't see well in the dark….He needed a flashlight….He needed to get his own rifle, it's in the Arsenal alongside the other weapons and the bullets….lightning flashed again interrupting his thoughts and almost immediately all blood drained from his face…it was his mother….He froze in his place, unable to even respond, he knew of loss but this was…unexpected, he knew death claims everyone but he hoped like all children with their mothers that death would spare her, that her Fate becomes outlasting his own…he kissed her forehead and got up, She was bitten by a vampire. She could turn, he was trying to banish the thoughts from his head, he couldn't, he shouldn't she deserves her rest, he thought, the hand holding the blade shivered….and with an anguished cry he raised the blade and decapitated his own mother then fell to his knees wrestling his own tears…but he had little time to grief as he heard the lumbering of a creature upstairs, there was a loud noise…whatever menace that caused this must have made its way upstairs…He slowly and as silently as possible he found the arsenal taking his custom made rifle, and loading it with blessed bullets…Why, he was wondering, why it wasn’t him that died….maybe he would at the end of this night….the storm raged outside, which meant phonelines were dead, there was no back up coming to him, not that he knew any.

Arthur travelled through the mansion, with wary steps, having to dispatch a vampire every room or two, it was as if an entire coven came to the mansion, but they were all weak, relatively speaking, a coven of young new bloods? It wasn't unheard, of, He wished he had more than his rifle, but there was really nothing he can do, he could search for some arcane trinkets, he knew how to perform blood rituals after all, but it was impractical, he can't read from the books in this light, his elementalism was rusty as well and he didn't memorize many spells, maybe a couple of ones to heal his wounds, but nothing too major….He was now at the top floor, and he was exhausted, not physically but it seemed a mountain of burden fell on his shoulders; he lost his mother, he found his sister's corpse torn apart and mangled by a pack of the fiends….the maid was dead, he now was worried about Maria, the child he saved & his father….He hasn't found them yet, and there was only one room left in the entire mansion, his father's study.
He took a succession of deep breathes, then slowly opened the double doors, that were covered in blood as if painted by some sick artist, He saw his father standing at the window staring into the moors, his back was hunched and his hands drooped beside him as if he were dead, but he wasn't he was standing there, around his father's finger shone the ring, his family's heirloom, but it was searing the man's flesh, but he didn't flinch, he wasn't flinching, he looked to the desk and saw her, Maria, or what is left of her, she was naked, drenched in blood, he smelled the stale smell of piss on her, she must've been afraid…before she died…she was dead, feasted upon by the vampires, apparently and the old man just stood, there was a sound of munching, and a strange glow around him….It didn't take time for Arthur to figure it out….his father died too, but he was reanimated….a shadow of his former self….he turned slowly to face his son who aimed his rifle at him as he muttered desperately, with naivety, he knew it but he couldn’t help himself "father…? What happened?" the shambling corpse growled, and walked towards Arthur he kept his weapon trained "Father please, stay back…" more growling was the only response he got as the zombie shambled towards him, Whatever Vampire that did this must be powerful, reanimation magic was supposed to be lost….or at the very least rarely practiced….his gaze drifted to Maria's ravaged corpse and he felt even heavier, his heart was thundering in his chest….He lost everyone…Everyone he held dear, on the span of one night, Why did it happen to him, Why Him, his sadness began to fester into anger, he looked at the corpse of the old man shambling towards him, picking up pace, the ring burning in its hand, he kept the rifle trained and took a step back to keep the distance "I never dreamed that I would father such an unworthy son!" His eyes widened in horror as his father's voice came from the corpse "Look at you, you smell of fear, of weakness….even the bitch we chose for you knew you were weak, when she was dying she didn't even scream for you…she knew you can't save her…."

"that's Enough…"
"Failure. Weakling….your mother and sister delighted in being ravaged and joining the coven…"
"No…"
"No Son of Mine would've let that happen, I would have bred a warrior not a Coward!"
"I am no son of yours, Corpse, my father is Dead…."
"Your father considered you dead too"
"I said ENOUGH!!!"

He snapped and pulled the trigger firing a hail of bullets at his father's zombie form the onslaught was too much for the corpse that was reanimated with dark magic, the strain, led to it collapsing and then disintegrating at rapid speed, unnatural speed.
In a moment there was nothing but silence, the sound of rain, the booming of thunder, he walked to where his father's corpse were, and he knelt and took the ring "Requiescat in pace, father, I will make sure it is kept safe…I will make you proud…" once he slipped on the ring, he felt something odd coursing through him, power, he began to feel as if volumes of arcane books just opened in his mind, he remembered spells, and memories he didn't have before, was it the ring?

A feminine voice cut the silence that followed it came from the corpse "Why did you not love me enough, Princes proposed to me, men of stature, real men…but my family chose you, for your name…"Maria's corpse rose, slowly, reanimated as well, the necromancer was here, in the room, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he was being systematically broken, he knew, he always knew…but he couldn’t help but feel even worse, the rifle began to feel heavy in his hands, the woman's corpse walked to him "You can still prove your love for me, beloved, let go of your weapon, hold me in your arms, prove to me that you can love, that you love me, join me…."
The Rifle got even heavier, the room felt to be getting smaller, the air thinner, he was cold and exhausted, the sleeves of his shirt ,folded, were covered in the blood of those he killed, blood, there was blood on him, the blood of his mother, of his sister, of his father…the woman he loved….he drowns in blood….

Her hands slithered around his neck as she embraced him looking into his eyes with glassy eyes, she was dead and maybe he should join her too, he deserves it after losing everything it was time, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, he saw the pearl ring "I'm sorry Maria, I could've saved you….but it is too late….I'm sorry" he smiled as the blood on him began to take form, it formed a circle around Maria's feet as he backed away, and in the span of a moment she was reduced to a pond of blood "I'm sorry Maria…" She was dead.
The pond of blood was so flawless that he saw his own reflection in it, behind him was a painting of an Angel, wings spread he saw his silvery eyes and the Angel's wings on him he cocked his head slowly, was he going insane? What kind of insanity has him pondering if he was going insane? He seemed sane, it seemed that his fate was to suffer the horror of what just transpired, but it was not over yet….a young feminine voice echoed in the study

"''You are a strong one, any other man would've broken by now, clawing at his face or putting a bullet through his own brain…''"

He turned around his rifle trained he began to utter a prayer to empower the bullets in his rifle, a couple of blood spells came to his mind just in case he may need them, that ring was useful, I suppose that's why it was handed down for generations, there seemed to be a trove of knowledge desiring to flood through a keyhole, he didn't know how to use this ring yet, he was going to be passed to him later on, not now, when his father died after teaching him its secrets and his family's secrets, the voice interrupted his voice again "''I took a liking to you, Lord Seymour, since the title is now yours….your late father was no challenge at all, whether to kill or reanimate, my boys took good care of him…and special care of your mom & your sister….even more special delicious care with Maria here….''"

"Show yourself Fiend, taunting me through my family did you no good so now you resort to the shadows? Come Forth Coward….and answer for your crimes"

"''Pleasant speech, where did you get that from? Plagiarizing is a better possibility than you actually speaking those words, if you're so formal and old….you sound even older than me and I am Fairly old…a century old maybe….though it never shows….a strict beauty regiment makes sure of that….blood baths like this one help too…''"

He heard the sound of heels on the wooden floor, and suddenly the fireplace erupted and light flooded the room, shocking his eyes for a moment but he tried to shake it off quickly to get his bearing and on the chair by the fireplace, sat the 12 year old girl, the girl he saved, she looked so innocent, so afraid "Please mister, help me, they took me from my father and raped me, they almost killed me trying to carve these weird symbols on my body…it was it was…." She almost sopped burying her face in her hands he ran to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder "there there, it is over now, you're alive…we will be alright….we will be…"

"It was…." She looked up to his face and grinned as her eyes turned blood red "It was riveting!"

Arthur was shoved back with such a force and hit the book shelves he was being crushed by the weight of some force "You Humans are soooo predictable!"

The Little girl pranced about dancing in the pond of blood that was Maria, gallantly as if she was dancing on water "I haven't feasted on human flesh for such a long time, but your family was so hospitable, your kindness most welcome, Lord Arthur Seymour, mind if I call you Arty? We've begun on the wrong foot here, but come on, I was just summoned into the body of a small girl, I needed to eat, like sure you get hungry too right? RIGHT? Having a sister and a fiancée like that, I would've been hungry to those too, well, I was I just had them…you get what I mean" Arthur's rage was climbing higher and higher, his rifle fell from his hands and now he's pinned to a wall…like a martyr pinned to a cross, The little girl's body was not changing, it was not transforming, but he knew what it was, a Demon from the hell dimensions, one that just took everything from him, He didn't think of it before…IT was just an act of kindness a little girl in need…he was played for a fool from the first moment…he killed his family.
"I digress, you seem to have the strongest soul in this dump, so it would be quite the heartening meal, and what an irony it is, your blood is really special isn't it, rich; so blue blooded, those silver eyes…I suppose your family told you your story? Their story? I read it in your old man's mind as I sucked the life out of him, descended from Actual Angels, well as you'd appreciate it If I took the biblical to the next level…." A sword flew half the way across the room impeding itself in Arthur's palm, followed by another….in his other palm "And there….Oh Great & holy Son of God, I weep at your feet, as your holy blood flows, will you absolve me from my sins?" The Demon looked quizzically with the girl's innocent eyes "Nope, I suppose you're the wrong Savior…" He then boomed a hellish laughter that made Arthur shudder….Then opened its mouth at Arthur's side as his palms dripped blood into the Demon's mouth, which opened at an unnatural angle now "ummm ummm ummm! Sweet Delicious blood, but not exactly angelic, is it? I mean if it were I'd be dead by now" Arthur smirked as the ring around his fingers shimmered "You know you piece of hell filth what's the first thing they teach you about blood magic?" The Demon just looked at Arthur "something that your father knew but didn't help him?" Arthur nodded "Perhaps, but I am not my father, and there's no shame in that…." The Demon rolled its eyes back and twirled around resting on the blood pond "Well, you sure are better looking than him…I'm sure the succubi in Hell would love to strum your nerve endings on a beach of lava as they eviscerate you!" Arthur smirked as his tired voice muttered "You first…" his voice got faint so the Demon got up from his chair "Oh come on, don't die on me now, I still would like afew gallons from you before you die…" it walked to Arthur and levitated from the ground near his face, Arthur muttered a couple of faint words "mercy…fate…" The Demon leaned in to listen "what was that, flesh bag?"

"The First thing they teach you about blood magic, is that your blood is your deadliest weapon, consider this Mercy from Fate, you disgusting fiend" and in a moment the girl's body convulsed and its heart got torn out, exploding in Arthur's face as its corpse fell on the ground, lifeless. The swords fell, and so did Arthur, he drew some blood to him to heal himself but he was too tired…..Everything went black. Just as he fainted he heard the buzzing of a bee in the room, and he could swear he heard a couple of words….he discerned only one sentence

"'''Save Me, Archangel'''"

Next day when he woke up he was in a bed, music was playing, he recognized the tune, Nocturne on C-sharp Minor by Chopin, he loved it growing up, next to his bed sat a woman who wore a simple white blouse & black slacks, the cross dangled around her neck, she smiled at him "Welcome back Lord Seymour, I'm here to present to you an opportunity"
Arthur nodded as he readjusted, he sat up and on his bedside table was the chain Maria wore & his father's ring, he looked at the cross around her neck and he knew why she was here, it was time "I'm listening".

=• Personality & mannerisms •=

Arthur's personality has shifted significantly thanks to what happened to him when he was younger, now in his thirties, he attempts his best to retain the humanity that is still left in him; He's cultured, sophisticated, collected, composed as a gentleman at almost all times, he often greets people with a polite smile.

He makes sure he brings honor & pride to his family's name as such he strives to be polite, and does his best to represent his name well, He is descended from Templar Old guard, but he has the ideals of the New Guard in his mind, He remains tolerant, but is suspicious of anything that isn't human, and anyone who doesn't wear the Templar colors makes him somewhat cautious. Illuminati in particular leave a sour taste in his mouth, and Vampires pressure an old wound from his past. He doesn't go out of his way to fight inhumans or monstrous opponents, so he won't stir up a problem if the creatures keep to themselves, but He rarely can help himself if some creature caused a problem, for he upholds the chief tenet of the Templars; The War on Evil must be uncompromising.

Contrary to his status though, Arthur is somewhat geeky, He's also highly artistic enjoying good music, good literature & art in all its forms striving for the Templar ideal being a cultured holy warrior, seeking to banish the image burned into the biased masses about the Templars being fascist and imperialistic, to that end; he keeps himself clean shaven & well dressed at all times, showing discipline, despite the fact that he is not a warrior by nature.

He's passionate about the histories of the world's cultures and is always eager to learn, he is also highly interested in the occult and all the fields related to it.

Arthur has a strict code of honor and is highly ethical and moral, though he is far from being a conservative, his word is something he holds sacred, and will rarely if ever break a vow or a promise he gave, He can also be a bigger picture guy, for he more than often has worked with members of the other societies, albeit begrudgingly.

He cares about humanity & has an admiration & appreciation for human life, and he abhors taking a life...a remnant from his original persona, the tragedies of the secret world often resonate with him, and he genuinely feels saddened when he has to put down an innocent just because the Darkness got to them, never the less he doesn't hesitate for he knows there's more at stake and his hesitation could mean his death and more importantly the death of others, and he cannot abide that.

The Dark Days are here, and the world is drowning in filth, and it falls upon the Strong to save the weak and fend for those who cannot fend for themselves, Arthur might have hated the fact that he's a Soldier, but in the War on Evil, one is either a Soldier or a victim.

Arthur's obsession with Angels can somewhat be apparent, even the nickname he chose for himself is an Anagram for the Archangel of Fate in the Diablo franchise, signifying his geeky nature & his devotion to the war effort, for the Angels fight Evil since the beginning of time and he intends to keep fighting for the good of mankind, serving the purpose of the Seymours as the Family Legends tell.

He is described as a man of honor, Stubborn, empathetic, kind, compassionate and friendly. He can be of a loving nature and highly selfless if the need be. He believes in honesty, loyalty and Trust, he only breaks his word only if he was lied to or tricked, and he shows a fierce vindictive side to remedy this breach of trust as he sees it. He's well known for speaking his mind & being of a fierce temper though he buries it well under a mask of polite and collected calm demeanor.

He's knowledgable and can somewhat be deceptive if need be, despite everything he maintains an optimistic and open-minded view of the world, though he isnt often surprised when things turn ill for others, merely disappointed.

He is emotionally hardened and has difficulty expressing and receiving love, particularly because of losing everyone he once held dear, he keeps himself isolated which led to him possessing poor people skills at times, and had his introversion develop further. He is also capable of forgiveness and has shown his capability to reign in his more violent urges, despite the tragedy he's lived through.

His Desire to appear well kept, noble & honorable man, who's dedicated to the cause of saving humanity as a whole, to become worthy of his Angelic heritage, or so he thinks.

=• Relations within the Order •=

Arthur Seymour, thanks to his name is somewhat of a uniquely position Templar, He's both a testament to the strengths offered by the old and the new guard, not as archaic as the old guard but has the name to proudly sit among them, a true aristocratic blue blood. And also not discriminating based on rank, race or class, He only values the efficiency of his Peers, he judges people based on Merit, making him also popular with the New Guard.

He can often be found in Temple Club conversing with Sir Iain Tibet Gladstone and can be often found listening to many of his long lectures as well as enjoying the company of the stuart sisters, Despite being favored by both the old and the new guard, he prefers the company of the New guard more, although he finds it difficult to join them in say, the Crusades, for the establishment itself doesn't fit his tastes, and neither do many of its patrons.

=• Special Notes •=
Arthur is often seen wearing his family's ring, a single stone silver ring with a Cross and several symbols carved on it, the Ring itself is a family heirloom, been passed from Seymour elders to their children for generations; rumor has it that the Ring stores memories and information learned by the bearer and can retrieve them when desired, leading to the Seymour men being accomplished magi & warlocks...or when they desire to be fierce and accurate warriors and hunters, He also wears his late fiancee's necklace as a constant reminder of what the world can do or take from him if he let his guard down, the Necklace itself is not without its own powers, it has protective properties, though how potent remains unexplored.

Arthur is highly versed in Blood magic of all the other fields, and he seeks to learn more about Elementalism, he is also an accomplished duelist & marksman, preferring not to waste his bullets often find their mark. and his movements are not elaborate but they conserve his energy due to his slim physique, he is often under risk of being overpowered as such he tries to conserve energy and only act on an advantage, if his advantage is lost or he lacks it, he prefers to wait, if the option of waiting is not available he utilizes his levelheaded nature and strategic mindset to Create that Advantage, which led to him being sent on several otherwise challenging missions only for him to succeed in achieving his goals.

=• Physical Appearance •=
Arthur is slim built, though he is not as weak as he looks, his eyes are distinctly silver, his hair is dark brown, he sometimes wears glasses to try and look even less menacing, when he wants to glean information or try and not stand out, his hair is often messy, against his best attempts to tame it, but it rarely spirals totally out of control, his voice is somewhat soft. He doesn't weigh much but as mentioned he is deceptively slim. he is often clean shaven and well dressed.

=• Remarks •=

- Arthur has a special hatred for Vampires and Demons, if you're either, best that you not bring it up to him for he gets uneasy and may immediately consider someone who's either, a Threat.

- For A Templar, Arthur is fairly tolerant with faction tags, though he remains distrustful, he may be willing to team up for the greater good or to quell a great threat, and because he is bound by his word, he would probably never break that agreement unless the other party does so.

- Being cultured and sophisticated he doesn't often hang out in Clubs, preferring instead gentlemen clubs like the Temple club or places like the Horned God, if you seek RP with him, seek him out there.

- Arthur is a well trained marksman, though he doesn't enjoy talking about it, while being somewhat experienced with his own rifle & occasionally guns, he doesn't use technical terms or mention them at all infact, he is more inclined to speak about different forms of magic, trying to give the impression that he is not a soldier but a warlock or a magus.

- Arthur has artistic tendencies, his command over the language is one of his strong points, he enjoys poetry & literature, knows many of the classics among music as well not just Literature, he can give Old man vibes sometimes.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2018-05-28T12:13:57Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee (reincarnated)
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord / Djehuty / The Scribe
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough, but he had a trinket he seemed unwilling to part with in his childhood, his mother thought it must've been part of what happened, a ring composed of a material the color of gold, a serpent coiling around another with an ibis head over them both, made of a white gemstone, the ring seemed incapable of being separated from him, even when his mother would take it it would mysteriously end up around her son's finger again, so his family never really…worried, about it, as for he himself? He'd dream….

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted on this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, But unbeknownst to him they were details of an old life of his, an ancient life.

One Ominous day, the Day of the Tokyo Bombing Amjad was asleep normally, But when he woke up he felt different, he felt like a presence in his own body, like it was him and it wasn't, he also felt an odd sense of clarity, and this time he remembered his dreams rather vividly as if he lived them. for a moment he stood in front of a mirror confused he tried to remember his own name, struggling for a moment trying to ground himself after waking up with this flood of new information and history in his mind; He walked around his new home, in a body that was his and not….Amjad, his name was Amjad, He recognized the tongue, it was of the desert tribes to the east, a land between his homeland and the home of the crossed ones, He remembered they conquered and erased….and yet here he was, the Last of the Sons of Khemet, No…No, he wasn't there were others, he remembered, emaciated, embalmed hands speaking with honey dripping voices….the Kingdom thrives….HE will present himself to them at some point but for now, the charade must continue….He is Amjad Selim of….Egypt…Khemet is a long forgotten memory, but there are so many secrets buried beneath the sands, secrets he hid, secrets his followers hid, he would find them, the crossed ones now hold the knowledge of the old world, He should seek them out….their libraries and evenings are still brimming with the musk of the old world he knew and loved….the Door knocks….standing at the door is a man draped in green, he recognizes him and it almost seems that the monk does too, to a degree he didn't think possible….before lips part….he falls to the ground, The Dragon just took him.
Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• Dreams of The Ancients •=

He always dreamed of times before, he knew it was him, but he never knew what he was doing, or where was he; pyramids, towers, rituals, kingdoms, empires, thrones. He was many things in those dreams; an artist, a poet, an adventurer, a Merchant, an alchemist, a priest, an adviser to kings, in his dreams he saw several symbols, some he recognized others he had no idea what were they, he would only learn of their meaning after his…awakening….not from his dreams, but from the blissful sleep of ignorance that envelops all that glimpse the secret world from outside not knowing that the darkness is actually staring back; he saw the eye and the Pyramid, how he conspired with them in times were the people of the nile were mere children inheriting the world after ages and ages from the Crossed ones, then he saw the crossed ones, bearing a symbol as old as the age of the ziggurats, but others believe it to be as new as their 'savior' He saw the tug of war between them, he was there, other men of influence were there, people who flirted with both factions, who wanted the knowledge harvested by the illuminated ones & the seemingly regal quest of the crossed ones, He saw in secret how some men of coin and influence cooked up rituals that will aid them to linger for eternity, he recognized the rituals as part of his craft, but incomplete for the world lost so much of its magic and its potency, he knew they would fail….but he also knew they would endure, in a scrying ritual at the temple of his favored god, the ibis headed Djehuty of wisdom, he glimpsed another…a serpent, not of destruction but of balance, of death and rebirth, he was intrigued, but his intrigue was short lived….betrayed, he was betrayed, the illuminated ones, they wanted the knowledge he hoarded for themselves, so they told the Crossed ones part of what they knew about him….He was of this world, but he wasn't of this age, no he was old, before history began, before the first of the Ziggurats were built…he was there, a witness to the passing of time, he forgot so much of what he once knew…He forgot more than some mystics would ever learn….the loss…a curse, to ever bear witness to the one truth of the universe….Birth, Death & rebirth was to be his path….and he walked it since the beginning of time for an affront to the old gods…He would return, he is doomed to return to repeat his dance with different moves, he saw the Heretic philosopher king bring the Sun to Khemet, bring the darkness to Khemet, He saw his reign passing, but his darkness remained, as the reign of all other Philosopher kings who were far more glorious. He saw the Illuminated ones leave, the crossed ones endured, the purple ones rose & fell…or so they seemed, and in the far east he glimpsed the serpent again and again, forever young, forever reborn….the kinship was unmistakable, the Serpent of the South was drawn to the Dragon.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's nature, combined with the history he shares with them meant that He & The Kingdom were on the same page in some aspects, While being aligned with the Dragon, He has several ties with the Shriveled Trade Princes of the Kingdom, though none of them is particularly fond enough of him for it seemed that Amjad himself achieved what they couldn't, although a marred mockery of it, not eternal life but reincarnation. Though it doesn't show on him particularly well, The Knowledge the Kingdom and Amjad can trade, as well as the Secrets, makes him somewhat begrudgingly valued among their ranks, though neither party brags about this connection, for it remains a secret.

=• Special Notes •=
Amjad's actually an ancient Vizier from the time of Ancient Egypt, though his most memorable memories are from the Time of the New Kingdom, He himself speculates that his heritage goes way beyond this age, but by some mercy, or curse, he only remembers a Certain Cycle...of a series of ones...Amjad's very history, seems to mirror that of the Dragon, heavily couched in the Concept of Reincarnation. Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the Undying Vizier, the Eternal one, the bee did not awaken magical potential, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a more coherent set of memories…..and skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, even in the lands he was condemned to be reincarnated in time and time again, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

[[File:Vizier-8-2018-05-21-02-29-55.png]]

Amjad's ring, a single stone ring, is more precious than it looks, though not made of any expensive material, it's a relic from his ancient life, the ring is composed of two coiling serpents crowned by an Ibis head where the single stone resides, the color of moonstone.

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad abhors being repressed, oppressed & of course, censorship, He's had many trouble with the opinions he expressed back in Egypt and his work is still popular there among certain groups of people but not with the ruling government, the only protection he has is his second nationality, As such Amjad craves nothing more than total and absolute freedom, though he remains somewhat responsible but he doesn't enjoy feeling like he "has to do" something, it usually turns him off immensely being seemingly forced to do a certain thing & the Dragon know this, which is why they appeal to his love and lust for freedom by portraying themselves as the celebrators of individualism and free will, as opposed to the militaristic Templars or the Corporate minded Illuminati.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a learner for he forgot most of the secrets he knew in his previous lives, including his true name. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2018-05-24T02:58:38Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = templar
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Fate33d
| nickname =Ithereal
| image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png
| organization =
| job_title = heir/Literature professor
| aliases = Archangel of Fate
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = English
| residence = London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Artorius Byron Seymour was born in the family's mansion in Yorkshire, last in a line of a proud family tracing its roots back to the times of the Crusades, and possibly beyond, there's a long established family tale that recounts how the first of the Seymour bloodline were Angels, who pitied man and descended from the Heavens taking mortal forms to aid mankind in its eternal struggle against evil, both human & otherwise, The family most defining genetic trait has been their silvery eyes, it is said the most gifted and prominent among the Seymours would be born with silver eyes.
The Seymours have had strong ties to the Templars, as such their son was bred to be among the best of the elite, taught in and well versed in history, arts & literature as well as the classical education mandatory for his more…special studies, he was allowed access to a treasure trove of occult knowledge as well as secret histories, and all was according to his parents plan, the family took pride In their son, who was displaying signs of greatness and potential, worthy of him walking with pride in Temple hall.

Arthur grew up to be somewhat pacifistic, he abhorred violence, and scorned bloodshed, his view of the world was tolerant and merciful, he accepted those different from him and advocated for their rights, such an inclusive and exemplary man of the new cosmopolitan world. Yet he looked around him and saw nothing but chaos, humanity was on the brink of self destruction they were destroying not only themselves but their planet and the whole world around them, through his studies of the world's history he viewed humans, as pack animals, and every pack needs a pack leader, a chain of command seemed to be what holds the world together or send it plummeting further down the spiral of oblivion, it was the burden of those who knew and those strong enough to shoulder the burdens of the world to save it. He himself wanted to be both, he wanted to save the world, he wanted to save everyone his capacity for empathy was always one of his defining qualities.

Arthur has always been obsessed with Angels, the family's legend, their history, his skills, it all helped feed his obsession, his rooms always had sketches and artwork depicting angels and other religious icons, even though he himself wasn't a religious individual, he Prayed, but in his own way, he did solely because it made him feel guided and guarded, He would pray whenever he came close to an undertaking, sometimes it would sound like verse but it rarely ever is, when he was a boy his mother gifted him with a cross and a chain oddly made but said to be blessed from the most arduous and holy men of old, from the times of Gilles Seymour saint Croix, the family's ancestor that fought through the crusades, it was a family heirloom, there was one more heirloom that belonged to his father, a family ring with a singular pearl, it had engravings all over, in a language that seemed akin to latin but it wasn't, he was told that one day he will earn this, and on that day he would bring his family great pride.

The young man's pacifistic tendencies weren't much to his family's liking though, their family has always been affiliated with the Templars, the protectors of the world from the evils that burrow and breed beneath the artificial curb content to be forgotten and ignored by the masses, but the Cross never forgets to mete out not just mercy but justice and holy fire upon the damned and the villainous, Arthur was more lenient concerning the denizens of the other worlds, he was of the belief that the world would reach a state of harmony only when all its denizens, those human and not work together….an idealist the kind ones would call him, but he was a fool when his family were ever asked.

When the time came he attended Oxford university Majoring in English literature, possibly one of his all time favorite things in the world, alongside archaeology…After he would finish his college he would travel across old Europe visiting old Cathedrals and churches, while neither a protestant nor a catholic he always enjoyed the interiors and the architecture, his was an old soul it was no wonder he loved Europe more than any other place in the world, the Renaissance was meant to be the era he would've been born into if every man was born in the time of his choosing….but he was not without his modern habits, while his phone was still with a keyboard, he enjoyed video-gaming and would often pick a holy warrior in his rpgs, even though he himself was not exactly a physically imposing martial force, to his father's chagrin, for he wanted his son to be a true crusader in mind and body, but his son failed in both endeavors, yet his family viewed their son with pride.

His father was not pleased with his lack of any military training so he did what he had to do, he had his son sent to several institutions aiming to teach him about combat, but the young man was completely against it, even though he found a certain penchant to marksmanship, he was deadly with a rifle on long range, it was as if he was a gifted sniper, he was trained in the old ways, learning to appreciate each shot, he often would smirk to himself as his mentor would say "if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all" the Alan moore references were strong there, he would joke to himself about it, but his mentors clearly had no idea who Alan moore was, Arthur always were worlds apart from men of violence, that's why, while he excelled he never really relished in holding a firearm, a rifle no less, he was an excellent marksman, but it always seemed that he pulled his trigger….reluctantly.

All was well, and pleasant for the rich heir.

=• The Secret War •=

Years went by, Arthur got engaged to a lovely woman, from another family, He loved her dearly, and so did she, although both families were merely arranging the marriage, but both parties seemed pretty content with it all….they were going to announce the engagement on his birthday party….that same weekend he returned from Rome, his fiancée always wore a cross chain around her neck, it always looked beautiful, it had inscriptions on the chain, and said to be ancient, a family heirloom, The De Cosimo family was as prestigious as the Seymours, Maria was also a promising offspring, but the De Cosimos were more affiliated with the Council of Venice, a form of parliament ruling the Secret world, their quest was to basically keep the matter of squabbling secret societies a secret and keep the average man blissfully unaware of the darkness surrounding his world that could close its maws on it at any time. After a trip to Rome, Arthur returned to his family's mansion were the preparations for his engagement, his birthday & the celebration of his return after years of touring the old world were being held, it was another rainy night of England's many rainy nights, as he drove his way home he saw a little girl, not older than twelve cross the road, he braked instantly as he witnessed the girl's clothes were bloodied, and she was crying profusely, then she just fainted….there….on the road, right in front of him.

Taking pity on the little girl who seemed a surviving victim of some sort of abuse, the moors were sometimes unkind, for all manner of creatures, both human and not could run rampant in the night….her clothes and her appearance suggested that she was a survivor of rape, but there were wounds over her throat….Arthur thought that maybe some kids were trying their hand in blood magic or demon summoning, amateurs & fools…she was too weak and he couldn't just leave her in her current state, so he elected to take her home…by the time they got home her skin was getting colder and colder, so he placed her in a guest room, got her some food, and instructed the maid to clean her up and take good care of her. He then proceeded to get ready for his own party that night, the girl had to wait, he was going to get engaged.

As he was adjusting his tie and combing his hair, lights went out, the entire mansion was engulfed in darkness, he then heard screams…several high pitched panicking screams, the men reached for weapons, a ruckus broke out, he himself had to know what happened, the mansion was under attack, the whole mansion apparently, He went for his gun, locked & loaded then headed down, as he closed the door of his room, the last gunshot was heard leaving the whole mansion dead silent….and dark…..Humans always feared the dark, or more aptly, we learned to fear what lurks within it, and he was no exception, his dress shoes were not very practical but he had no time to change….the mansion didn't have many people yet….just his family, his fiancée, they were expecting guests later this week, but not today, he heard a moan, not of pleasure but of pain, the floor was creaking and the sound did not help alleviate his concern, as he looked down the corridor lightning flashed and he saw a human form over another….the latter wearing a white dress, smeared red with blood, there was the sound of chewing and slurping, he made a noise loading his gun, and the creature looked up to him, it had night prowler eyes, not silvery like his, his were holy, these were not, lightning flashed again, then thunder boomed, the creature had blood all over its face and chest…it was a vampire, but it looked familiar. As lightning flashed a couple of times he got a closer look, it was his family's butler....such a grim fate, for such a loyal servant.

In the span of a breath the Vampire was on all fours running towards him, he fired a single shot that went directly through the creature's head….Arthur never panicked, not visibly, he felt fear, but he never truly…panicked, although this was not normal to him, he read the secret histories, he knew what the world had hid then forgotten….He pulled a sword from the mantelpiece, this was a Templar home after all weapons were everywhere, and Severed the creature's head, at which it turned to ash, the sword was always a favorite weapon of his, though it was impractical in this day and age, and the Broadswords were nice, but they were heavy and his body couldn't support them for prolonged periods of time, so he elected to try and find the bullets made to handle the Vampires, he didn't know how many of them broke into the house, He went to check on the corpse the Vampire was draining yet he couldn't see well in the dark….He needed a flashlight….He needed to get his own rifle, it's in the Arsenal alongside the other weapons and the bullets….lightning flashed again interrupting his thoughts and almost immediately all blood drained from his face…it was his mother….He froze in his place, unable to even respond, he knew of loss but this was…unexpected, he knew death claims everyone but he hoped like all children with their mothers that death would spare her, that her Fate becomes outlasting his own…he kissed her forehead and got up, She was bitten by a vampire. She could turn, he was trying to banish the thoughts from his head, he couldn't, he shouldn't she deserves her rest, he thought, the hand holding the blade shivered….and with an anguished cry he raised the blade and decapitated his own mother then fell to his knees wrestling his own tears…but he had little time to grief as he heard the lumbering of a creature upstairs, there was a loud noise…whatever menace that caused this must have made its way upstairs…He slowly and as silently as possible he found the arsenal taking his custom made rifle, and loading it with blessed bullets…Why, he was wondering, why it wasn’t him that died….maybe he would at the end of this night….the storm raged outside, which meant phonelines were dead, there was no back up coming to him, not that he knew any.

Arthur travelled through the mansion, with wary steps, having to dispatch a vampire every room or two, it was as if an entire coven came to the mansion, but they were all weak, relatively speaking, a coven of young new bloods? It wasn't unheard, of, He wished he had more than his rifle, but there was really nothing he can do, he could search for some arcane trinkets, he knew how to perform blood rituals after all, but it was impractical, he can't read from the books in this light, his elementalism was rusty as well and he didn't memorize many spells, maybe a couple of ones to heal his wounds, but nothing too major….He was now at the top floor, and he was exhausted, not physically but it seemed a mountain of burden fell on his shoulders; he lost his mother, he found his sister's corpse torn apart and mangled by a pack of the fiends….the maid was dead, he now was worried about Maria, the child he saved & his father….He hasn't found them yet, and there was only one room left in the entire mansion, his father's study.
He took a succession of deep breathes, then slowly opened the double doors, that were covered in blood as if painted by some sick artist, He saw his father standing at the window staring into the moors, his back was hunched and his hands drooped beside him as if he were dead, but he wasn't he was standing there, around his father's finger shone the ring, his family's heirloom, but it was searing the man's flesh, but he didn't flinch, he wasn't flinching, he looked to the desk and saw her, Maria, or what is left of her, she was naked, drenched in blood, he smelled the stale smell of piss on her, she must've been afraid…before she died…she was dead, feasted upon by the vampires, apparently and the old man just stood, there was a sound of munching, and a strange glow around him….It didn't take time for Arthur to figure it out….his father died too, but he was reanimated….a shadow of his former self….he turned slowly to face his son who aimed his rifle at him as he muttered desperately, with naivety, he knew it but he couldn’t help himself "father…? What happened?" the shambling corpse growled, and walked towards Arthur he kept his weapon trained "Father please, stay back…" more growling was the only response he got as the zombie shambled towards him, Whatever Vampire that did this must be powerful, reanimation magic was supposed to be lost….or at the very least rarely practiced….his gaze drifted to Maria's ravaged corpse and he felt even heavier, his heart was thundering in his chest….He lost everyone…Everyone he held dear, on the span of one night, Why did it happen to him, Why Him, his sadness began to fester into anger, he looked at the corpse of the old man shambling towards him, picking up pace, the ring burning in its hand, he kept the rifle trained and took a step back to keep the distance "I never dreamed that I would father such an unworthy son!" His eyes widened in horror as his father's voice came from the corpse "Look at you, you smell of fear, of weakness….even the bitch we chose for you knew you were weak, when she was dying she didn't even scream for you…she knew you can't save her…."

"that's Enough…"
"Failure. Weakling….your mother and sister delighted in being ravaged and joining the coven…"
"No…"
"No Son of Mine would've let that happen, I would have bred a warrior not a Coward!"
"I am no son of yours, Corpse, my father is Dead…."
"Your father considered you dead too"
"I said ENOUGH!!!"

He snapped and pulled the trigger firing a hail of bullets at his father's zombie form the onslaught was too much for the corpse that was reanimated with dark magic, the strain, led to it collapsing and then disintegrating at rapid speed, unnatural speed.
In a moment there was nothing but silence, the sound of rain, the booming of thunder, he walked to where his father's corpse were, and he knelt and took the ring "Requiescat in pace, father, I will make sure it is kept safe…I will make you proud…" once he slipped on the ring, he felt something odd coursing through him, power, he began to feel as if volumes of arcane books just opened in his mind, he remembered spells, and memories he didn't have before, was it the ring?

A feminine voice cut the silence that followed it came from the corpse "Why did you not love me enough, Princes proposed to me, men of stature, real men…but my family chose you, for your name…"Maria's corpse rose, slowly, reanimated as well, the necromancer was here, in the room, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he was being systematically broken, he knew, he always knew…but he couldn’t help but feel even worse, the rifle began to feel heavy in his hands, the woman's corpse walked to him "You can still prove your love for me, beloved, let go of your weapon, hold me in your arms, prove to me that you can love, that you love me, join me…."
The Rifle got even heavier, the room felt to be getting smaller, the air thinner, he was cold and exhausted, the sleeves of his shirt ,folded, were covered in the blood of those he killed, blood, there was blood on him, the blood of his mother, of his sister, of his father…the woman he loved….he drowns in blood….

Her hands slithered around his neck as she embraced him looking into his eyes with glassy eyes, she was dead and maybe he should join her too, he deserves it after losing everything it was time, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, he saw the pearl ring "I'm sorry Maria, I could've saved you….but it is too late….I'm sorry" he smiled as the blood on him began to take form, it formed a circle around Maria's feet as he backed away, and in the span of a moment she was reduced to a pond of blood "I'm sorry Maria…" She was dead.
The pond of blood was so flawless that he saw his own reflection in it, behind him was a painting of an Angel, wings spread he saw his silvery eyes and the Angel's wings on him he cocked his head slowly, was he going insane? What kind of insanity has him pondering if he was going insane? He seemed sane, it seemed that his fate was to suffer the horror of what just transpired, but it was not over yet….a young feminine voice echoed in the study

"''You are a strong one, any other man would've broken by now, clawing at his face or putting a bullet through his own brain…''"

He turned around his rifle trained he began to utter a prayer to empower the bullets in his rifle, a couple of blood spells came to his mind just in case he may need them, that ring was useful, I suppose that's why it was handed down for generations, there seemed to be a trove of knowledge desiring to flood through a keyhole, he didn't know how to use this ring yet, he was going to be passed to him later on, not now, when his father died after teaching him its secrets and his family's secrets, the voice interrupted his voice again "''I took a liking to you, Lord Seymour, since the title is now yours….your late father was no challenge at all, whether to kill or reanimate, my boys took good care of him…and special care of your mom & your sister….even more special delicious care with Maria here….''"

"Show yourself Fiend, taunting me through my family did you no good so now you resort to the shadows? Come Forth Coward….and answer for your crimes"

"''Pleasant speech, where did you get that from? Plagiarizing is a better possibility than you actually speaking those words, if you're so formal and old….you sound even older than me and I am Fairly old…a century old maybe….though it never shows….a strict beauty regiment makes sure of that….blood baths like this one help too…''"

He heard the sound of heels on the wooden floor, and suddenly the fireplace erupted and light flooded the room, shocking his eyes for a moment but he tried to shake it off quickly to get his bearing and on the chair by the fireplace, sat the 12 year old girl, the girl he saved, she looked so innocent, so afraid "Please mister, help me, they took me from my father and raped me, they almost killed me trying to carve these weird symbols on my body…it was it was…." She almost sopped burying her face in her hands he ran to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder "there there, it is over now, you're alive…we will be alright….we will be…"

"It was…." She looked up to his face and grinned as her eyes turned blood red "It was riveting!"

Arthur was shoved back with such a force and hit the book shelves he was being crushed by the weight of some force "You Humans are soooo predictable!"

The Little girl pranced about dancing in the pond of blood that was Maria, gallantly as if she was dancing on water "I haven't feasted on human flesh for such a long time, but your family was so hospitable, your kindness most welcome, Lord Arthur Seymour, mind if I call you Arty? We've begun on the wrong foot here, but come on, I was just summoned into the body of a small girl, I needed to eat, like sure you get hungry too right? RIGHT? Having a sister and a fiancée like that, I would've been hungry to those too, well, I was I just had them…you get what I mean" Arthur's rage was climbing higher and higher, his rifle fell from his hands and now he's pinned to a wall…like a martyr pinned to a cross, The little girl's body was not changing, it was not transforming, but he knew what it was, a Demon from the hell dimensions, one that just took everything from him, He didn't think of it before…IT was just an act of kindness a little girl in need…he was played for a fool from the first moment…he killed his family.
"I digress, you seem to have the strongest soul in this dump, so it would be quite the heartening meal, and what an irony it is, your blood is really special isn't it, rich; so blue blooded, those silver eyes…I suppose your family told you your story? Their story? I read it in your old man's mind as I sucked the life out of him, descended from Actual Angels, well as you'd appreciate it If I took the biblical to the next level…." A sword flew half the way across the room impeding itself in Arthur's palm, followed by another….in his other palm "And there….Oh Great & holy Son of God, I weep at your feet, as your holy blood flows, will you absolve me from my sins?" The Demon looked quizzically with the girl's innocent eyes "Nope, I suppose you're the wrong Savior…" He then boomed a hellish laughter that made Arthur shudder….Then opened its mouth at Arthur's side as his palms dripped blood into the Demon's mouth, which opened at an unnatural angle now "ummm ummm ummm! Sweet Delicious blood, but not exactly angelic, is it? I mean if it were I'd be dead by now" Arthur smirked as the ring around his fingers shimmered "You know you piece of hell filth what's the first thing they teach you about blood magic?" The Demon just looked at Arthur "something that your father knew but didn't help him?" Arthur nodded "Perhaps, but I am not my father, and there's no shame in that…." The Demon rolled its eyes back and twirled around resting on the blood pond "Well, you sure are better looking than him…I'm sure the succubi in Hell would love to strum your nerve endings on a beach of lava as they eviscerate you!" Arthur smirked as his tired voice muttered "You first…" his voice got faint so the Demon got up from his chair "Oh come on, don't die on me now, I still would like afew gallons from you before you die…" it walked to Arthur and levitated from the ground near his face, Arthur muttered a couple of faint words "mercy…fate…" The Demon leaned in to listen "what was that, flesh bag?"

"The First thing they teach you about blood magic, is that your blood is your deadliest weapon, consider this Mercy from Fate, you disgusting fiend" and in a moment the girl's body convulsed and its heart got torn out, exploding in Arthur's face as its corpse fell on the ground, lifeless. The swords fell, and so did Arthur, he drew some blood to him to heal himself but he was too tired…..Everything went black. Just as he fainted he heard the buzzing of a bee in the room, and he could swear he heard a couple of words….he discerned only one sentence

"'''Save Me, Archangel'''"

Next day when he woke up he was in a bed, music was playing, he recognized the tune, Nocturne on C-sharp Minor by Chopin, he loved it growing up, next to his bed sat a woman who wore a simple white blouse & black slacks, the cross dangled around her neck, she smiled at him "Welcome back Lord Seymour, I'm here to present to you an opportunity"
Arthur nodded as he readjusted, he sat up and on his bedside table was the chain Maria wore & his father's ring, he looked at the cross around her neck and he knew why she was here, it was time "I'm listening".

=• Personality & mannerisms •=

Arthur's personality has shifted significantly thanks to what happened to him when he was younger, now in his thirties, he attempts his best to retain the humanity that is still left in him; He's cultured, sophisticated, collected, composed as a gentleman at almost all times, he often greets people with a polite smile.

He makes sure he brings honor & pride to his family's name as such he strives to be polite, and does his best to represent his name well, He is descended from Templar Old guard, but he has the ideals of the New Guard in his mind, He remains tolerant, but is suspicious of anything that isn't human, and anyone who doesn't wear the Templar colors makes him somewhat cautious. Illuminati in particular leave a sour taste in his mouth, and Vampires pressure an old wound from his past. He doesn't go out of his way to fight inhumans or monstrous opponents, so he won't stir up a problem if the creatures keep to themselves, but He rarely can help himself if some creature caused a problem, for he upholds the chief tenet of the Templars; The War on Evil must be uncompromising.

Contrary to his status though, Arthur is somewhat geeky, He's also highly artistic enjoying good music, good literature & art in all its forms striving for the Templar ideal being a cultured holy warrior, seeking to banish the image burned into the biased masses about the Templars being fascist and imperialistic, to that end; he keeps himself clean shaven & well dressed at all times, showing discipline, despite the fact that he is not a warrior by nature.

He's passionate about the histories of the world's cultures and is always eager to learn, he is also highly interested in the occult and all the fields related to it.

Arthur has a strict code of honor and is highly ethical and moral, though he is far from being a conservative, his word is something he holds sacred, and will rarely if ever break a vow or a promise he gave, He can also be a bigger picture guy, for he more than often has worked with members of the other societies, albeit begrudgingly.

He cares about humanity & has an admiration & appreciation for human life, and he abhors taking a life...a remnant from his original persona, the tragedies of the secret world often resonate with him, and he genuinely feels saddened when he has to put down an innocent just because the Darkness got to them, never the less he doesn't hesitate for he knows there's more at stake and his hesitation could mean his death and more importantly the death of others, and he cannot abide that.

The Dark Days are here, and the world is drowning in filth, and it falls upon the Strong to save the weak and fend for those who cannot fend for themselves, Arthur might have hated the fact that he's a Soldier, but in the War on Evil, one is either a Soldier or a victim.

Arthur's obsession with Angels can somewhat be apparent, even the nickname he chose for himself is an Anagram for the Archangel of Fate in the Diablo franchise, signifying his geeky nature & his devotion to the war effort, for the Angels fight Evil since the beginning of time and he intends to keep fighting for the good of mankind, serving the purpose of the Seymours as the Family Legends tell.

He is described as a man of honor, Stubborn, empathetic, kind, compassionate and friendly. He can be of a loving nature and highly selfless if the need be. He believes in honesty, loyalty and Trust, he only breaks his word only if he was lied to or tricked, and he shows a fierce vindictive side to remedy this breach of trust as he sees it. He's well known for speaking his mind & being of a fierce temper though he buries it well under a mask of polite and collected calm demeanor.

He's knowledgable and can somewhat be deceptive if need be, despite everything he maintains an optimistic and open-minded view of the world, though he isnt often surprised when things turn ill for others, merely disappointed.

He is emotionally hardened and has difficulty expressing and receiving love, particularly because of losing everyone he once held dear, he keeps himself isolated which led to him possessing poor people skills at times, and had his introversion develop further. He is also capable of forgiveness and has shown his capability to reign in his more violent urges, despite the tragedy he's lived through.

His Desire to appear well kept, noble & honorable man, who's dedicated to the cause of saving humanity as a whole, to become worthy of his Angelic heritage, or so he thinks.

=• Relations within the Order •=

Arthur Seymour, thanks to his name is somewhat of a uniquely position Templar, He's both a testament to the strengths offered by the old and the new guard, not as archaic as the old guard but has the name to proudly sit among them, a true aristocratic blue blood. And also not discriminating based on rank, race or class, He only values the efficiency of his Peers, he judges people based on Merit, making him also popular with the New Guard.

He can often be found in Temple Club conversing with Sir Iain Tibet Gladstone and can be often found listening to many of his long lectures as well as enjoying the company of the stuart sisters, Despite being favored by both the old and the new guard, he prefers the company of the New guard more, although he finds it difficult to join them in say, the Crusades, for the establishment itself doesn't fit his tastes, and neither do many of its patrons.

=• Special Notes •=
Arthur is often seen wearing his family's ring, a single stone silver ring with a Cross and several symbols carved on it, the Ring itself is a family heirloom, been passed from Seymour elders to their children for generations; rumor has it that the Ring stores memories and information learned by the bearer and can retrieve them when desired, leading to the Seymour men being accomplished magi & warlocks...or when they desire to be fierce and accurate warriors and hunters, He also wears his late fiancee's necklace as a constant reminder of what the world can do or take from him if he let his guard down, the Necklace itself is not without its own powers, it has protective properties, though how potent remains unexplored.

Arthur is highly versed in Blood magic of all the other fields, and he seeks to learn more about Elementalism, he is also an accomplished duelist & marksman, preferring not to waste his bullets often find their mark. and his movements are not elaborate but they conserve his energy due to his slim physique, he is often under risk of being overpowered as such he tries to conserve energy and only act on an advantage, if his advantage is lost or he lacks it, he prefers to wait, if the option of waiting is not available he utilizes his levelheaded nature and strategic mindset to Create that Advantage, which led to him being sent on several otherwise challenging missions only for him to succeed in achieving his goals.

=• Physical Appearance •=
Arthur is slim built, though he is not as weak as he looks, his eyes are distinctly silver, his hair is dark brown, he sometimes wears glasses to try and look even less menacing, when he wants to glean information or try and not stand out, his hair is often messy, against his best attempts to tame it, but it rarely spirals totally out of control, his voice is somewhat soft. He doesn't weigh much but as mentioned he is deceptively slim. he is often clean shaven and well dressed.

=• Remarks •=

- Arthur has a special hatred for Vampires and Demons, if you're either, best that you not bring it up to him for he gets uneasy and may immediately consider someone who's either, a Threat.

- For A Templar, Arthur is fairly tolerant with faction tags, though he remains distrustful, he may be willing to team up for the greater good or to quell a great threat, and because he is bound by his word, he would probably never break that agreement unless the other party does so.

- Being cultured and sophisticated he doesn't often hang out in Clubs, preferring instead gentlemen clubs like the Temple club or places like the Horned God, if you seek RP with him, seek him out there.

- Arthur is a well trained marksman, though he doesn't enjoy talking about it, while being somewhat experienced with his own rifle & occasionally guns, he doesn't use technical terms or mention them at all infact, he is more inclined to speak about different forms of magic, trying to give the impression that he is not a soldier but a warlock or a magus.

- Arthur has artistic tendencies, his command over the language is one of his strong points, he enjoys poetry & literature, knows many of the classics among music as well not just Literature, he can give Old man vibes sometimes.


<headertabs/>

Arthur Seymour

2018-05-24T02:56:30Z

Akhmenukep: Created page with "{{Character | faction = templar | status = pc | species = mortal bee | player = Fate33d | nickname =Ithereal | image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png | organization = | j..."

{{Character
| faction = templar
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee
| player = Fate33d
| nickname =Ithereal
| image = Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png
| organization =
| job_title = heir/Literature professor
| aliases = Archangel of Fate
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = English
| residence = London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Artorius Byron Seymour was born in the family's mansion in Yorkshire, last in a line of a proud family tracing its roots back to the times of the Crusades, and possibly beyond, there's a long established family tale that recounts how the first of the Seymour bloodline were Angels, who pitied man and descended from the Heavens taking mortal forms to aid mankind in its eternal struggle against evil, both human & otherwise, The family most defining genetic trait has been their silvery eyes, it is said the most gifted and prominent among the Seymours would be born with silver eyes.
The Seymours have had strong ties to the Templars, as such their son was bred to be among the best of the elite, taught in and well versed in history, arts & literature as well as the classical education mandatory for his more…special studies, he was allowed access to a treasure trove of occult knowledge as well as secret histories, and all was according to his parents plan, the family took pride In their son, who was displaying signs of greatness and potential, worthy of him walking with pride in Temple hall.

Arthur grew up to be somewhat pacifistic, he abhorred violence, and scorned bloodshed, his view of the world was tolerant and merciful, he accepted those different from him and advocated for their rights, such an inclusive and exemplary man of the new cosmopolitan world. Yet he looked around him and saw nothing but chaos, humanity was on the brink of self destruction they were destroying not only themselves but their planet and the whole world around them, through his studies of the world's history he viewed humans, as pack animals, and every pack needs a pack leader, a chain of command seemed to be what holds the world together or send it plummeting further down the spiral of oblivion, it was the burden of those who knew and those strong enough to shoulder the burdens of the world to save it. He himself wanted to be both, he wanted to save the world, he wanted to save everyone his capacity for empathy was always one of his defining qualities.

Arthur has always been obsessed with Angels, the family's legend, their history, his skills, it all helped feed his obsession, his rooms always had sketches and artwork depicting angels and other religious icons, even though he himself wasn't a religious individual, he Prayed, but in his own way, he did solely because it made him feel guided and guarded, He would pray whenever he came close to an undertaking, sometimes it would sound like verse but it rarely ever is, when he was a boy his mother gifted him with a cross and a chain oddly made but said to be blessed from the most arduous and holy men of old, from the times of Gilles Seymour saint Croix, the family's ancestor that fought through the crusades, it was a family heirloom, there was one more heirloom that belonged to his father, a family ring with a singular pearl, it had engravings all over, in a language that seemed akin to latin but it wasn't, he was told that one day he will earn this, and on that day he would bring his family great pride.

The young man's pacifistic tendencies weren't much to his family's liking though, their family has always been affiliated with the Templars, the protectors of the world from the evils that burrow and breed beneath the artificial curb content to be forgotten and ignored by the masses, but the Cross never forgets to mete out not just mercy but justice and holy fire upon the damned and the villainous, Arthur was more lenient concerning the denizens of the other worlds, he was of the belief that the world would reach a state of harmony only when all its denizens, those human and not work together….an idealist the kind ones would call him, but he was a fool when his family were ever asked.

When the time came he attended Oxford university Majoring in English literature, possibly one of his all time favorite things in the world, alongside archaeology…After he would finish his college he would travel across old Europe visiting old Cathedrals and churches, while neither a protestant nor a catholic he always enjoyed the interiors and the architecture, his was an old soul it was no wonder he loved Europe more than any other place in the world, the Renaissance was meant to be the era he would've been born into if every man was born in the time of his choosing….but he was not without his modern habits, while his phone was still with a keyboard, he enjoyed video-gaming and would often pick a holy warrior in his rpgs, even though he himself was not exactly a physically imposing martial force, to his father's chagrin, for he wanted his son to be a true crusader in mind and body, but his son failed in both endeavors, yet his family viewed their son with pride.

His father was not pleased with his lack of any military training so he did what he had to do, he had his son sent to several institutions aiming to teach him about combat, but the young man was completely against it, even though he found a certain penchant to marksmanship, he was deadly with a rifle on long range, it was as if he was a gifted sniper, he was trained in the old ways, learning to appreciate each shot, he often would smirk to himself as his mentor would say "if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all" the Alan moore references were strong there, he would joke to himself about it, but his mentors clearly had no idea who Alan moore was, Arthur always were worlds apart from men of violence, that's why, while he excelled he never really relished in holding a firearm, a rifle no less, he was an excellent marksman, but it always seemed that he pulled his trigger….reluctantly.

All was well, and pleasant for the rich heir.

=• The Secret War •=

Years went by, Arthur got engaged to a lovely woman, from another family, He loved her dearly, and so did she, although both families were merely arranging the marriage, but both parties seemed pretty content with it all….they were going to announce the engagement on his birthday party….that same weekend he returned from Rome, his fiancée always wore a cross chain around her neck, it always looked beautiful, it had inscriptions on the chain, and said to be ancient, a family heirloom, The De Cosimo family was as prestigious as the Seymours, Maria was also a promising offspring, but the De Cosimos were more affiliated with the Council of Venice, a form of parliament ruling the Secret world, their quest was to basically keep the matter of squabbling secret societies a secret and keep the average man blissfully unaware of the darkness surrounding his world that could close its maws on it at any time. After a trip to Rome, Arthur returned to his family's mansion were the preparations for his engagement, his birthday & the celebration of his return after years of touring the old world were being held, it was another rainy night of England's many rainy nights, as he drove his way home he saw a little girl, not older than twelve cross the road, he braked instantly as he witnessed the girl's clothes were bloodied, and she was crying profusely, then she just fainted….there….on the road, right in front of him.

Taking pity on the little girl who seemed a surviving victim of some sort of abuse, the moors were sometimes unkind, for all manner of creatures, both human and not could run rampant in the night….her clothes and her appearance suggested that she was a survivor of rape, but there were wounds over her throat….Arthur thought that maybe some kids were trying their hand in blood magic or demon summoning, amateurs & fools…she was too weak and he couldn't just leave her in her current state, so he elected to take her home…by the time they got home her skin was getting colder and colder, so he placed her in a guest room, got her some food, and instructed the maid to clean her up and take good care of her. He then proceeded to get ready for his own party that night, the girl had to wait, he was going to get engaged.

As he was adjusting his tie and combing his hair, lights went out, the entire mansion was engulfed in darkness, he then heard screams…several high pitched panicking screams, the men reached for weapons, a ruckus broke out, he himself had to know what happened, the mansion was under attack, the whole mansion apparently, He went for his gun, locked & loaded then headed down, as he closed the door of his room, the last gunshot was heard leaving the whole mansion dead silent….and dark…..Humans always feared the dark, or more aptly, we learned to fear what lurks within it, and he was no exception, his dress shoes were not very practical but he had no time to change….the mansion didn't have many people yet….just his family, his fiancée, they were expecting guests later this week, but not today, he heard a moan, not of pleasure but of pain, the floor was creaking and the sound did not help alleviate his concern, as he looked down the corridor lightning flashed and he saw a human form over another….the latter wearing a white dress, smeared red with blood, there was the sound of chewing and slurping, he made a noise loading his gun, and the creature looked up to him, it had night prowler eyes, not silvery like his, his were holy, these were not, lightning flashed again, then thunder boomed, the creature had blood all over its face and chest…it was a vampire, but it looked familiar. As lightning flashed a couple of times he got a closer look, it was his family's butler....such a grim fate, for such a loyal servant.

In the span of a breath the Vampire was on all fours running towards him, he fired a single shot that went directly through the creature's head….Arthur never panicked, not visibly, he felt fear, but he never truly…panicked, although this was not normal to him, he read the secret histories, he knew what the world had hid then forgotten….He pulled a sword from the mantelpiece, this was a Templar home after all weapons were everywhere, and Severed the creature's head, at which it turned to ash, the sword was always a favorite weapon of his, though it was impractical in this day and age, and the Broadswords were nice, but they were heavy and his body couldn't support them for prolonged periods of time, so he elected to try and find the bullets made to handle the Vampires, he didn't know how many of them broke into the house, He went to check on the corpse the Vampire was draining yet he couldn't see well in the dark….He needed a flashlight….He needed to get his own rifle, it's in the Arsenal alongside the other weapons and the bullets….lightning flashed again interrupting his thoughts and almost immediately all blood drained from his face…it was his mother….He froze in his place, unable to even respond, he knew of loss but this was…unexpected, he knew death claims everyone but he hoped like all children with their mothers that death would spare her, that her Fate becomes outlasting his own…he kissed her forehead and got up, She was bitten by a vampire. She could turn, he was trying to banish the thoughts from his head, he couldn't, he shouldn't she deserves her rest, he thought, the hand holding the blade shivered….and with an anguished cry he raised the blade and decapitated his own mother then fell to his knees wrestling his own tears…but he had little time to grief as he heard the lumbering of a creature upstairs, there was a loud noise…whatever menace that caused this must have made its way upstairs…He slowly and as silently as possible he found the arsenal taking his custom made rifle, and loading it with blessed bullets…Why, he was wondering, why it wasn’t him that died….maybe he would at the end of this night….the storm raged outside, which meant phonelines were dead, there was no back up coming to him, not that he knew any.

Arthur travelled through the mansion, with wary steps, having to dispatch a vampire every room or two, it was as if an entire coven came to the mansion, but they were all weak, relatively speaking, a coven of young new bloods? It wasn't unheard, of, He wished he had more than his rifle, but there was really nothing he can do, he could search for some arcane trinkets, he knew how to perform blood rituals after all, but it was impractical, he can't read from the books in this light, his elementalism was rusty as well and he didn't memorize many spells, maybe a couple of ones to heal his wounds, but nothing too major….He was now at the top floor, and he was exhausted, not physically but it seemed a mountain of burden fell on his shoulders; he lost his mother, he found his sister's corpse torn apart and mangled by a pack of the fiends….the maid was dead, he now was worried about Maria, the child he saved & his father….He hasn't found them yet, and there was only one room left in the entire mansion, his father's study.
He took a succession of deep breathes, then slowly opened the double doors, that were covered in blood as if painted by some sick artist, He saw his father standing at the window staring into the moors, his back was hunched and his hands drooped beside him as if he were dead, but he wasn't he was standing there, around his father's finger shone the ring, his family's heirloom, but it was searing the man's flesh, but he didn't flinch, he wasn't flinching, he looked to the desk and saw her, Maria, or what is left of her, she was naked, drenched in blood, he smelled the stale smell of piss on her, she must've been afraid…before she died…she was dead, feasted upon by the vampires, apparently and the old man just stood, there was a sound of munching, and a strange glow around him….It didn't take time for Arthur to figure it out….his father died too, but he was reanimated….a shadow of his former self….he turned slowly to face his son who aimed his rifle at him as he muttered desperately, with naivety, he knew it but he couldn’t help himself "father…? What happened?" the shambling corpse growled, and walked towards Arthur he kept his weapon trained "Father please, stay back…" more growling was the only response he got as the zombie shambled towards him, Whatever Vampire that did this must be powerful, reanimation magic was supposed to be lost….or at the very least rarely practiced….his gaze drifted to Maria's ravaged corpse and he felt even heavier, his heart was thundering in his chest….He lost everyone…Everyone he held dear, on the span of one night, Why did it happen to him, Why Him, his sadness began to fester into anger, he looked at the corpse of the old man shambling towards him, picking up pace, the ring burning in its hand, he kept the rifle trained and took a step back to keep the distance "I never dreamed that I would father such an unworthy son!" His eyes widened in horror as his father's voice came from the corpse "Look at you, you smell of fear, of weakness….even the bitch we chose for you knew you were weak, when she was dying she didn't even scream for you…she knew you can't save her…."

"that's Enough…"
"Failure. Weakling….your mother and sister delighted in being ravaged and joining the coven…"
"No…"
"No Son of Mine would've let that happen, I would have bred a warrior not a Coward!"
"I am no son of yours, Corpse, my father is Dead…."
"Your father considered you dead too"
"I said ENOUGH!!!"

He snapped and pulled the trigger firing a hail of bullets at his father's zombie form the onslaught was too much for the corpse that was reanimated with dark magic, the strain, led to it collapsing and then disintegrating at rapid speed, unnatural speed.
In a moment there was nothing but silence, the sound of rain, the booming of thunder, he walked to where his father's corpse were, and he knelt and took the ring "Requiescat in pace, father, I will make sure it is kept safe…I will make you proud…" once he slipped on the ring, he felt something odd coursing through him, power, he began to feel as if volumes of arcane books just opened in his mind, he remembered spells, and memories he didn't have before, was it the ring?

A feminine voice cut the silence that followed it came from the corpse "Why did you not love me enough, Princes proposed to me, men of stature, real men…but my family chose you, for your name…"Maria's corpse rose, slowly, reanimated as well, the necromancer was here, in the room, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he was being systematically broken, he knew, he always knew…but he couldn’t help but feel even worse, the rifle began to feel heavy in his hands, the woman's corpse walked to him "You can still prove your love for me, beloved, let go of your weapon, hold me in your arms, prove to me that you can love, that you love me, join me…."
The Rifle got even heavier, the room felt to be getting smaller, the air thinner, he was cold and exhausted, the sleeves of his shirt ,folded, were covered in the blood of those he killed, blood, there was blood on him, the blood of his mother, of his sister, of his father…the woman he loved….he drowns in blood….

Her hands slithered around his neck as she embraced him looking into his eyes with glassy eyes, she was dead and maybe he should join her too, he deserves it after losing everything it was time, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, he saw the pearl ring "I'm sorry Maria, I could've saved you….but it is too late….I'm sorry" he smiled as the blood on him began to take form, it formed a circle around Maria's feet as he backed away, and in the span of a moment she was reduced to a pond of blood "I'm sorry Maria…" She was dead.
The pond of blood was so flawless that he saw his own reflection in it, behind him was a painting of an Angel, wings spread he saw his silvery eyes and the Angel's wings on him he cocked his head slowly, was he going insane? What kind of insanity has him pondering if he was going insane? He seemed sane, it seemed that his fate was to suffer the horror of what just transpired, but it was not over yet….a young feminine voice echoed in the study

"''You are a strong one, any other man would've broken by now, clawing at his face or putting a bullet through his own brain…''"

He turned around his rifle trained he began to utter a prayer to empower the bullets in his rifle, a couple of blood spells came to his mind just in case he may need them, that ring was useful, I suppose that's why it was handed down for generations, there seemed to be a trove of knowledge desiring to flood through a keyhole, he didn't know how to use this ring yet, he was going to be passed to him later on, not now, when his father died after teaching him its secrets and his family's secrets, the voice interrupted his voice again "''I took a liking to you, Lord Seymour, since the title is now yours….your late father was no challenge at all, whether to kill or reanimate, my boys took good care of him…and special care of your mom & your sister….even more special delicious care with Maria here….''"

"Show yourself Fiend, taunting me through my family did you no good so now you resort to the shadows? Come Forth Coward….and answer for your crimes"

"''Pleasant speech, where did you get that from? Plagiarizing is a better possibility than you actually speaking those words, if you're so formal and old….you sound even older than me and I am Fairly old…a century old maybe….though it never shows….a strict beauty regiment makes sure of that….blood baths like this one help too…''"

He heard the sound of heels on the wooden floor, and suddenly the fireplace erupted and light flooded the room, shocking his eyes for a moment but he tried to shake it off quickly to get his bearing and on the chair by the fireplace, sat the 12 year old girl, the girl he saved, she looked so innocent, so afraid "Please mister, help me, they took me from my father and raped me, they almost killed me trying to carve these weird symbols on my body…it was it was…." She almost sopped burying her face in her hands he ran to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder "there there, it is over now, you're alive…we will be alright….we will be…"

"It was…." She looked up to his face and grinned as her eyes turned blood red "It was riveting!"

Arthur was shoved back with such a force and hit the book shelves he was being crushed by the weight of some force "You Humans are soooo predictable!"

The Little girl pranced about dancing in the pond of blood that was Maria, gallantly as if she was dancing on water "I haven't feasted on human flesh for such a long time, but your family was so hospitable, your kindness most welcome, Lord Arthur Seymour, mind if I call you Arty? We've begun on the wrong foot here, but come on, I was just summoned into the body of a small girl, I needed to eat, like sure you get hungry too right? RIGHT? Having a sister and a fiancée like that, I would've been hungry to those too, well, I was I just had them…you get what I mean" Arthur's rage was climbing higher and higher, his rifle fell from his hands and now he's pinned to a wall…like a martyr pinned to a cross, The little girl's body was not changing, it was not transforming, but he knew what it was, a Demon from the hell dimensions, one that just took everything from him, He didn't think of it before…IT was just an act of kindness a little girl in need…he was played for a fool from the first moment…he killed his family.
"I digress, you seem to have the strongest soul in this dump, so it would be quite the heartening meal, and what an irony it is, your blood is really special isn't it, rich; so blue blooded, those silver eyes…I suppose your family told you your story? Their story? I read it in your old man's mind as I sucked the life out of him, descended from Actual Angels, well as you'd appreciate it If I took the biblical to the next level…." A sword flew half the way across the room impeding itself in Arthur's palm, followed by another….in his other palm "And there….Oh Great & holy Son of God, I weep at your feet, as your holy blood flows, will you absolve me from my sins?" The Demon looked quizzically with the girl's innocent eyes "Nope, I suppose you're the wrong Savior…" He then boomed a hellish laughter that made Arthur shudder….Then opened its mouth at Arthur's side as his palms dripped blood into the Demon's mouth, which opened at an unnatural angle now "ummm ummm ummm! Sweet Delicious blood, but not exactly angelic, is it? I mean if it were I'd be dead by now" Arthur smirked as the ring around his fingers shimmered "You know you piece of hell filth what's the first thing they teach you about blood magic?" The Demon just looked at Arthur "something that your father knew but didn't help him?" Arthur nodded "Perhaps, but I am not my father, and there's no shame in that…." The Demon rolled its eyes back and twirled around resting on the blood pond "Well, you sure are better looking than him…I'm sure the succubi in Hell would love to strum your nerve endings on a beach of lava as they eviscerate you!" Arthur smirked as his tired voice muttered "You first…" his voice got faint so the Demon got up from his chair "Oh come on, don't die on me now, I still would like afew gallons from you before you die…" it walked to Arthur and levitated from the ground near his face, Arthur muttered a couple of faint words "mercy…fate…" The Demon leaned in to listen "what was that, flesh bag?"

"The First thing they teach you about blood magic, is that your blood is your deadliest weapon, consider this Mercy from Fate, you disgusting fiend" and in a moment the girl's body convulsed and its heart got torn out, exploding in Arthur's face as its corpse fell on the ground, lifeless. The swords fell, and so did Arthur, he drew some blood to him to heal himself but he was too tired…..Everything went black. Just as he fainted he heard the buzzing of a bee in the room, and he could swear he heard a couple of words….he discerned only one sentence

"'''Save Me, Archangel'''"

Next day when he woke up he was in a bed, music was playing, he recognized the tune, Nocturne on C-sharp Minor by Chopin, he loved it growing up, next to his bed sat a woman who wore a simple white blouse & black slacks, the cross dangled around her neck, she smiled at him "Welcome back Lord Seymour, I'm here to present to you an opportunity"
Arthur nodded as he readjusted, he sat up and on his bedside table was the chain Maria wore & his father's ring, he looked at the cross around her neck and he knew why she was here, it was time "I'm listening".

=• Personality & mannerisms •=

Arthur's personality has shifted significantly thanks to what happened to him when he was younger, now in his thirties, he attempts his best to retain the humanity that is still left in him; He's cultured, sophisticated, collected, composed as a gentleman at almost all times, he often greets people with a polite smile.

He makes sure he brings honor & pride to his family's name as such he strives to be polite, and does his best to represent his name well, He is descended from Templar Old guard, but he has the ideals of the New Guard in his mind, He remains tolerant, but is suspicious of anything that isn't human, and anyone who doesn't wear the Templar colors makes him somewhat cautious. Illuminati in particular leave a sour taste in his mouth, and Vampires pressure an old wound from his past. He doesn't go out of his way to fight inhumans or monstrous opponents, so he won't stir up a problem if the creatures keep to themselves, but He rarely can help himself if some creature caused a problem, for he upholds the chief tenet of the Templars; The War on Evil must be uncompromising.

Contrary to his status though, Arthur is somewhat geeky, He's also highly artistic enjoying good music, good literature & art in all its forms striving for the Templar ideal being a cultured holy warrior, seeking to banish the image burned into the biased masses about the Templars being fascist and imperialistic, to that end; he keeps himself clean shaven & well dressed at all times, showing discipline, despite the fact that he is not a warrior by nature.

He's passionate about the histories of the world's cultures and is always eager to learn, he is also highly interested in the occult and all the fields related to it.

Arthur has a strict code of honor and is highly ethical and moral, though he is far from being a conservative, his word is something he holds sacred, and will rarely if ever break a vow or a promise he gave, He can also be a bigger picture guy, for he more than often has worked with members of the other societies, albeit begrudgingly.

He cares about humanity & has an admiration & appreciation for human life, and he abhors taking a life...a remnant from his original persona, the tragedies of the secret world often resonate with him, and he genuinely feels saddened when he has to put down an innocent just because the Darkness got to them, never the less he doesn't hesitate for he knows there's more at stake and his hesitation could mean his death and more importantly the death of others, and he cannot abide that.

The Dark Days are here, and the world is drowning in filth, and it falls upon the Strong to save the weak and fend for those who cannot fend for themselves, Arthur might have hated the fact that he's a Soldier, but in the War on Evil, one is either a Soldier or a victim.

Arthur's obsession with Angels can somewhat be apparent, even the nickname he chose for himself is an Anagram for the Archangel of Fate in the Diablo franchise, signifying his geeky nature & his devotion to the war effort, for the Angels fight Evil since the beginning of time and he intends to keep fighting for the good of mankind, serving the purpose of the Seymours as the Family Legends tell.

He is described as a man of honor, Stubborn, empathetic, kind, compassionate and friendly. He can be of a loving nature and highly selfless if the need be. He believes in honesty, loyalty and Trust, he only breaks his word only if he was lied to or tricked, and he shows a fierce vindictive side to remedy this breach of trust as he sees it. He's well known for speaking his mind & being of a fierce temper though he buries it well under a mask of polite and collected calm demeanor.

He's knowledgable and can somewhat be deceptive if need be, despite everything he maintains an optimistic and open-minded view of the world, though he isnt often surprised when things turn ill for others, merely disappointed.

He is emotionally hardened and has difficulty expressing and receiving love, particularly because of losing everyone he once held dear, he keeps himself isolated which led to him possessing poor people skills at times, and had his introversion develop further. He is also capable of forgiveness and has shown his capability to reign in his more violent urges, despite the tragedy he's lived through.

His Desire to appear well kept, noble & honorable man, who's dedicated to the cause of saving humanity as a whole, to become worthy of his Angelic heritage, or so he thinks.

=• Relations within the Order •=

Arthur Seymour, thanks to his name is somewhat of a uniquely position Templar, He's both a testament to the strengths offered by the old and the new guard, not as archaic as the old guard but has the name to proudly sit among them, a true aristocratic blue blood. And also not discriminating based on rank, race or class, He only values the efficiency of his Peers, he judges people based on Merit, making him also popular with the New Guard.

He can often be found in Temple Club conversing with Sir Iain Tibet Gladstone and can be often found listening to many of his long lectures as well as enjoying the company of the stuart sisters, Despite being favored by both the old and the new guard, he prefers the company of the New guard more, although he finds it difficult to join them in say, the Crusades, for the establishment itself doesn't fit his tastes, and neither do many of its patrons.

=• Special Notes •=
Arthur is often seen wearing his family's ring, a single stone silver ring with a Cross and several symbols carved on it, the Ring itself is a family heirloom, been passed from Seymour elders to their children for generations; rumor has it that the Ring stores memories and information learned by the bearer and can retrieve them when desired, leading to the Seymour men being accomplished magi & warlocks...or when they desire to be fierce and accurate warriors and hunters, He also wears his late fiancee's necklace as a constant reminder of what the world can do or take from him if he let his guard down, the Necklace itself is not without its own powers, it has protective properties, though how potent remains unexplored.

Arthur is highly versed in Blood magic of all the other fields, and he seeks to learn more about Elementalism, he is also an accomplished duelist & marksman, preferring not to waste his bullets often find their mark. and his movements are not elaborate but they conserve his energy due to his slim physique, he is often under risk of being overpowered as such he tries to conserve energy and only act on an advantage, if his advantage is lost or he lacks it, he prefers to wait, if the option of waiting is not available he utilizes his levelheaded nature and strategic mindset to Create that Advantage, which led to him being sent on several otherwise challenging missions only for him to succeed in achieving his goals.

=• Physical Appearance •=
Arthur is slim built, though he is not as weak as he looks, his eyes are distinctly silver, his hair is dark brown, he sometimes wears glasses to try and look even less menacing, when he wants to glean information or try and not stand out, his hair is often messy, against his best attempts to tame it, but it rarely spirals totally out of control, his voice is somewhat soft. He doesn't weigh much but as mentioned he is deceptively slim. he is often clean shaven and well dressed.

=• Remarks •=

- Arthur has a special hatred for Vampires and Demons, if you're either, best that you not bring it up to him for he gets uneasy and may immediately consider someone who's either, a Threat.

- For A Templar, Arthur is fairly tolerant with faction tags, though he remains distrustful, he may be willing to team up for the greater good or to quell a great threat, and because he is bound by his word, he would probably never break that agreement unless the other party does so.

- Being cultured and sophisticated he doesn't often hang out in Clubs, preferring instead gentlemen clubs like the Temple club or places like the Horned God, if you seek RP with him, seek him out there.

[[File:Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-30-31.png]]

- Arthur is a well trained marksman, though he doesn't enjoy talking about it, while being somewhat experienced with his own rifle & occasionally guns, he doesn't use technical terms or mention them at all infact, he is more inclined to speak about different forms of magic, trying to give the impression that he is not a soldier but a warlock or a magus.

- Arthur has artistic tendencies, his command over the language is one of his strong points, he enjoys poetry & literature, knows many of the classics among music as well not just Literature, he can give Old man vibes sometimes.


<headertabs/>

File:Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-53-53.png

2018-05-24T02:55:26Z

Akhmenukep:

File:Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-30-31.png

2018-05-24T02:49:54Z

Akhmenukep:

File:Ithereal-2018-05-24-04-29-45.png

2018-05-24T02:36:34Z

Akhmenukep:

Amjad Selim

2018-05-24T00:13:46Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee (reincarnated)
| player = Vizier33
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough, but he had a trinket he seemed unwilling to part with in his childhood, his mother thought it must've been part of what happened, a ring composed of a material the color of gold, a serpent coiling around another with an ibis head over them both, made of a white gemstone, the ring seemed incapable of being separated from him, even when his mother would take it it would mysteriously end up around her son's finger again, so his family never really…worried, about it, as for he himself? He'd dream….

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted on this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, But unbeknownst to him they were details of an old life of his, an ancient life.

One Ominous day, the Day of the Tokyo Bombing Amjad was asleep normally, But when he woke up he felt different, he felt like a presence in his own body, like it was him and it wasn't, he also felt an odd sense of clarity, and this time he remembered his dreams rather vividly as if he lived them. for a moment he stood in front of a mirror confused he tried to remember his own name, struggling for a moment trying to ground himself after waking up with this flood of new information and history in his mind; He walked around his new home, in a body that was his and not….Amjad, his name was Amjad, He recognized the tongue, it was of the desert tribes to the east, a land between his homeland and the home of the crossed ones, He remembered they conquered and erased….and yet here he was, the Last of the Sons of Khemet, No…No, he wasn't there were others, he remembered, emaciated, embalmed hands speaking with honey dripping voices….the Kingdom thrives….HE will present himself to them at some point but for now, the charade must continue….He is Amjad Selim of….Egypt…Khemet is a long forgotten memory, but there are so many secrets buried beneath the sands, secrets he hid, secrets his followers hid, he would find them, the crossed ones now hold the knowledge of the old world, He should seek them out….their libraries and evenings are still brimming with the musk of the old world he knew and loved….the Door knocks….standing at the door is a man draped in green, he recognizes him and it almost seems that the monk does too, to a degree he didn't think possible….before lips part….he falls to the ground, The Dragon just took him.
Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• Dreams of The Ancients •=

He always dreamed of times before, he knew it was him, but he never knew what he was doing, or where was he; pyramids, towers, rituals, kingdoms, empires, thrones. He was many things in those dreams; an artist, a poet, an adventurer, a Merchant, an alchemist, a priest, an adviser to kings, in his dreams he saw several symbols, some he recognized others he had no idea what were they, he would only learn of their meaning after his…awakening….not from his dreams, but from the blissful sleep of ignorance that envelops all that glimpse the secret world from outside not knowing that the darkness is actually staring back; he saw the eye and the Pyramid, how he conspired with them in times were the people of the nile were mere children inheriting the world after ages and ages from the Crossed ones, then he saw the crossed ones, bearing a symbol as old as the age of the ziggurats, but others believe it to be as new as their 'savior' He saw the tug of war between them, he was there, other men of influence were there, people who flirted with both factions, who wanted the knowledge harvested by the illuminated ones & the seemingly regal quest of the crossed ones, He saw in secret how some men of coin and influence cooked up rituals that will aid them to linger for eternity, he recognized the rituals as part of his craft, but incomplete for the world lost so much of its magic and its potency, he knew they would fail….but he also knew they would endure, in a scrying ritual at the temple of his favored god, the ibis headed Djehuty of wisdom, he glimpsed another…a serpent, not of destruction but of balance, of death and rebirth, he was intrigued, but his intrigue was short lived….betrayed, he was betrayed, the illuminated ones, they wanted the knowledge he hoarded for themselves, so they told the Crossed ones part of what they knew about him….He was of this world, but he wasn't of this age, no he was old, before history began, before the first of the Ziggurats were built…he was there, a witness to the passing of time, he forgot so much of what he once knew…He forgot more than some mystics would ever learn….the loss…a curse, to ever bear witness to the one truth of the universe….Birth, Death & rebirth was to be his path….and he walked it since the beginning of time for an affront to the old gods…He would return, he is doomed to return to repeat his dance with different moves, he saw the Heretic philosopher king bring the Sun to Khemet, bring the darkness to Khemet, He saw his reign passing, but his darkness remained, as the reign of all other Philosopher kings who were far more glorious. He saw the Illuminated ones leave, the crossed ones endured, the purple ones rose & fell…or so they seemed, and in the far east he glimpsed the serpent again and again, forever young, forever reborn….the kinship was unmistakable, the Serpent of the South was drawn to the Dragon.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's nature, combined with the history he shares with them meant that He & The Kingdom were on the same page in some aspects, While being aligned with the Dragon, He has several ties with the Shriveled Trade Princes of the Kingdom, though none of them is particularly fond enough of him for it seemed that Amjad himself achieved what they couldn't, although a marred mockery of it, not eternal life but reincarnation. Though it doesn't show on him particularly well, The Knowledge the Kingdom and Amjad can trade, as well as the Secrets, makes him somewhat begrudgingly valued among their ranks, though neither party brags about this connection, for it remains a secret.

=• Special Notes •=
Amjad's actually an ancient Vizier from the time of Ancient Egypt, though his most memorable memories are from the Time of the New Kingdom, He himself speculates that his heritage goes way beyond this age, but by some mercy, or curse, he only remembers a Certain Cycle...of a series of ones...Amjad's very history, seems to mirror that of the Dragon, heavily couched in the Concept of Reincarnation. Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the Undying Vizier, the Eternal one, the bee did not awaken magical potential, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a more coherent set of memories…..and skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, even in the lands he was condemned to be reincarnated in time and time again, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

[[File:Vizier-8-2018-05-21-02-29-55.png]]

Amjad's ring, a single stone ring, is more precious than it looks, though not made of any expensive material, it's a relic from his ancient life, the ring is composed of two coiling serpents crowned by an Ibis head where the single stone resides, the color of moonstone.

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a learner for he forgot most of the secrets he knew in his previous lives, including his true name. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2018-05-23T16:29:33Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee (reincarnated)
| player = Vizier-8
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His was a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with her to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough, but he had a trinket he seemed unwilling to part with in his childhood, his mother thought it must've been part of what happened, a ring composed of a material the color of gold, a serpent coiling around another with an ibis head over them both, made of a white gemstone, the ring seemed incapable of being separated from him, even when his mother would take it it would mysteriously end up around her son's finger again, so his family never really…worried, about it, as for he himself? He'd dream….

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted on this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, But unbeknownst to him they were details of an old life of his, an ancient life.

One Ominous day, the Day of the Tokyo Bombing Amjad was asleep normally, But when he woke up he felt different, he felt like a presence in his own body, like it was him and it wasn't, he also felt an odd sense of clarity, and this time he remembered his dreams rather vividly as if he lived them. for a moment he stood in front of a mirror confused he tried to remember his own name, struggling for a moment trying to ground himself after waking up with this flood of new information and history in his mind; He walked around his new home, in a body that was his and not….Amjad, his name was Amjad, He recognized the tongue, it was of the desert tribes to the east, a land between his homeland and the home of the crossed ones, He remembered they conquered and erased….and yet here he was, the Last of the Sons of Khemet, No…No, he wasn't there were others, he remembered, emaciated, embalmed hands speaking with honey dripping voices….the Kingdom thrives….HE will present himself to them at some point but for now, the charade must continue….He is Amjad Selim of….Egypt…Khemet is a long forgotten memory, but there are so many secrets buried beneath the sands, secrets he hid, secrets his followers hid, he would find them, the crossed ones now hold the knowledge of the old world, He should seek them out….their libraries and evenings are still brimming with the musk of the old world he knew and loved….the Door knocks….standing at the door is a man draped in green, he recognizes him and it almost seems that the monk does too, to a degree he didn't think possible….before lips part….he falls to the ground, The Dragon just took him.
Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• Dreams of The Ancients •=

He always dreamed of times before, he knew it was him, but he never knew what he was doing, or where was he; pyramids, towers, rituals, kingdoms, empires, thrones. He was many things in those dreams; an artist, a poet, an adventurer, a Merchant, an alchemist, a priest, an adviser to kings, in his dreams he saw several symbols, some he recognized others he had no idea what were they, he would only learn of their meaning after his…awakening….not from his dreams, but from the blissful sleep of ignorance that envelops all that glimpse the secret world from outside not knowing that the darkness is actually staring back; he saw the eye and the Pyramid, how he conspired with them in times were the people of the nile were mere children inheriting the world after ages and ages from the Crossed ones, then he saw the crossed ones, bearing a symbol as old as the age of the ziggurats, but others believe it to be as new as their 'savior' He saw the tug of war between them, he was there, other men of influence were there, people who flirted with both factions, who wanted the knowledge harvested by the illuminated ones & the seemingly regal quest of the crossed ones, He saw in secret how some men of coin and influence cooked up rituals that will aid them to linger for eternity, he recognized the rituals as part of his craft, but incomplete for the world lost so much of its magic and its potency, he knew they would fail….but he also knew they would endure, in a scrying ritual at the temple of his favored god, the ibis headed Djehuty of wisdom, he glimpsed another…a serpent, not of destruction but of balance, of death and rebirth, he was intrigued, but his intrigue was short lived….betrayed, he was betrayed, the illuminated ones, they wanted the knowledge he hoarded for themselves, so they told the Crossed ones part of what they knew about him….He was of this world, but he wasn't of this age, no he was old, before history began, before the first of the Ziggurats were built…he was there, a witness to the passing of time, he forgot so much of what he once knew…He forgot more than some mystics would ever learn….the loss…a curse, to ever bear witness to the one truth of the universe….Birth, Death & rebirth was to be his path….and he walked it since the beginning of time for an affront to the old gods…He would return, he is doomed to return to repeat his dance with different moves, he saw the Heretic philosopher king bring the Sun to Khemet, bring the darkness to Khemet, He saw his reign passing, but his darkness remained, as the reign of all other Philosopher kings who were far more glorious. He saw the Illuminated ones leave, the crossed ones endured, the purple ones rose & fell…or so they seemed, and in the far east he glimpsed the serpent again and again, forever young, forever reborn….the kinship was unmistakable, the Serpent of the South was drawn to the Dragon.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's nature, combined with the history he shares with them meant that He & The Kingdom were on the same page in some aspects, While being aligned with the Dragon, He has several ties with the Shriveled Trade Princes of the Kingdom, though none of them is particularly fond enough of him for it seemed that Amjad himself achieved what they couldn't, although a marred mockery of it, not eternal life but reincarnation. Though it doesn't show on him particularly well, The Knowledge the Kingdom and Amjad can trade, as well as the Secrets, makes him somewhat begrudgingly valued among their ranks, though neither party brags about this connection, for it remains a secret.

=• Special Notes •=
Amjad's actually an ancient Vizier from the time of Ancient Egypt, though his most memorable memories are from the Time of the New Kingdom, He himself speculates that his heritage goes way beyond this age, but by some mercy, or curse, he only remembers a Certain Cycle...of a series of ones...Amjad's very history, seems to mirror that of the Dragon, heavily couched in the Concept of Reincarnation. Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the Undying Vizier, the Eternal one, the bee did not awaken magical potential, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a more coherent set of memories…..and skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, even in the lands he was condemned to be reincarnated in time and time again, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

[[File:Vizier-8-2018-05-21-02-29-55.png]]

Amjad's ring, a single stone ring, is more precious than it looks, though not made of any expensive material, it's a relic from his ancient life, the ring is composed of two coiling serpents crowned by an Ibis head where the single stone resides, the color of moonstone.

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a learner for he forgot most of the secrets he knew in his previous lives, including his true name. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2018-05-23T16:11:18Z

Akhmenukep:

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee (reincarnated)
| player = Vizier-8
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with him to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough, but he had a trinket he seemed unwilling to part with in his childhood, his mother thought it must've been part of what happened, a ring composed of a material the color of gold, a serpent coiling around another with an ibis head over them both, made of a white gemstone, the ring seemed incapable of being separated from him, even when his mother would take it it would mysteriously end up around her son's finger again, so his family never really…worried, about it, as for he himself? He'd dream….

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted on this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, But unbeknownst to him they were details of an old life of his, an ancient life.

One Ominous day, the Day of the Tokyo Bombing Amjad was asleep normally, But when he woke up he felt different, he felt like a presence in his own body, like it was him and it wasn't, he also felt an odd sense of clarity, and this time he remembered his dreams rather vividly as if he lived them. for a moment he stood in front of a mirror confused he tried to remember his own name, struggling for a moment trying to ground himself after waking up with this flood of new information and history in his mind; He walked around his new home, in a body that was his and not….Amjad, his name was Amjad, He recognized the tongue, it was of the desert tribes to the east, a land between his homeland and the home of the crossed ones, He remembered they conquered and erased….and yet here he was, the Last of the Sons of Khemet, No…No, he wasn't there were others, he remembered, emaciated, embalmed hands speaking with honey dripping voices….the Kingdom thrives….HE will present himself to them at some point but for now, the charade must continue….He is Amjad Selim of….Egypt…Khemet is a long forgotten memory, but there are so many secrets buried beneath the sands, secrets he hid, secrets his followers hid, he would find them, the crossed ones now hold the knowledge of the old world, He should seek them out….their libraries and evenings are still brimming with the musk of the old world he knew and loved….the Door knocks….standing at the door is a man draped in green, he recognizes him and it almost seems that the monk does too, to a degree he didn't think possible….before lips part….he falls to the ground, The Dragon just took him.
Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• Dreams of The Ancients •=

He always dreamed of times before, he knew it was him, but he never knew what he was doing, or where was he; pyramids, towers, rituals, kingdoms, empires, thrones. He was many things in those dreams; an artist, a poet, an adventurer, a Merchant, an alchemist, a priest, an adviser to kings, in his dreams he saw several symbols, some he recognized others he had no idea what were they, he would only learn of their meaning after his…awakening….not from his dreams, but from the blissful sleep of ignorance that envelops all that glimpse the secret world from outside not knowing that the darkness is actually staring back; he saw the eye and the Pyramid, how he conspired with them in times were the people of the nile were mere children inheriting the world after ages and ages from the Crossed ones, then he saw the crossed ones, bearing a symbol as old as the age of the ziggurats, but others believe it to be as new as their 'savior' He saw the tug of war between them, he was there, other men of influence were there, people who flirted with both factions, who wanted the knowledge harvested by the illuminated ones & the seemingly regal quest of the crossed ones, He saw in secret how some men of coin and influence cooked up rituals that will aid them to linger for eternity, he recognized the rituals as part of his craft, but incomplete for the world lost so much of its magic and its potency, he knew they would fail….but he also knew they would endure, in a scrying ritual at the temple of his favored god, the ibis headed Djehuty of wisdom, he glimpsed another…a serpent, not of destruction but of balance, of death and rebirth, he was intrigued, but his intrigue was short lived….betrayed, he was betrayed, the illuminated ones, they wanted the knowledge he hoarded for themselves, so they told the Crossed ones part of what they knew about him….He was of this world, but he wasn't of this age, no he was old, before history began, before the first of the Ziggurats were built…he was there, a witness to the passing of time, he forgot so much of what he once knew…He forgot more than some mystics would ever learn….the loss…a curse, to ever bear witness to the one truth of the universe….Birth, Death & rebirth was to be his path….and he walked it since the beginning of time for an affront to the old gods…He would return, he is doomed to return to repeat his dance with different moves, he saw the Heretic philosopher king bring the Sun to Khemet, bring the darkness to Khemet, He saw his reign passing, but his darkness remained, as the reign of all other Philosopher kings who were far more glorious. He saw the Illuminated ones leave, the crossed ones endured, the purple ones rose & fell…or so they seemed, and in the far east he glimpsed the serpent again and again, forever young, forever reborn….the kinship was unmistakable, the Serpent of the South was drawn to the Dragon.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's nature, combined with the history he shares with them meant that He & The Kingdom were on the same page in some aspects, While being aligned with the Dragon, He has several ties with the Shriveled Trade Princes of the Kingdom, though none of them is particularly fond enough of him for it seemed that Amjad himself achieved what they couldn't, although a marred mockery of it, not eternal life but reincarnation. Though it doesn't show on him particularly well, The Knowledge the Kingdom and Amjad can trade, as well as the Secrets, makes him somewhat begrudgingly valued among their ranks, though neither party brags about this connection, for it remains a secret.

=• Special Notes •=
Amjad's actually an ancient Vizier from the time of Ancient Egypt, though his most memorable memories are from the Time of the New Kingdom, He himself speculates that his heritage goes way beyond this age, but by some mercy, or curse, he only remembers a Certain Cycle...of a series of ones...Amjad's very history, seems to mirror that of the Dragon, heavily couched in the Concept of Reincarnation. Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the Undying Vizier, the Eternal one, the bee did not awaken magical potential, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a more coherent set of memories…..and skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, even in the lands he was condemned to be reincarnated in time and time again, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

[[File:Vizier-8-2018-05-21-02-29-55.png]]

Amjad's ring, a single stone ring, is more precious than it looks, though not made of any expensive material, it's a relic from his ancient life, the ring is composed of two coiling serpents crowned by an Ibis head where the single stone resides, the color of moonstone.

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Roleplay remarks •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a learner for he forgot most of the secrets he knew in his previous lives, including his true name. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


<headertabs/>

Amjad Selim

2018-05-23T16:09:19Z

Akhmenukep: Created page with "{{Character | faction = dragon | status = pc | species = mortal bee reincarnated | player = Vizier-8 | nickname = Vizier-8 | image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png | organi..."

{{Character
| faction = dragon
| status = pc
| species = mortal bee reincarnated
| player = Vizier-8
| nickname = Vizier-8
| image = Vizier-8-2018-05-20-21-54-59.png
| organization =
| job_title = Novelist (Crime/Mystery/Fantasy)
| aliases = A. S. Lord
| twitter =
| gender = Male
| age = 33
| nationality = Egyptian/English
| residence = Currently London
|}}

=• Early Life •=
Amjad was born to the normal world; his mother was a british Egyptologist, and his father a history teacher, the story of how they met & how it all started has always fascinated him, the most pure form of chance encounter, both were at a café with friends and both got up but she was pushed into his way, and he for some reason didn't just help her and walk past but conversed with her, years later they were married. Quite the coincidence that one was, He always mused.

Amjad had a normal childhood, aside from an obsession with Ancient Egypt that was impressive to his parents, his mother nurtured his love for reading and history, though to hers and her father's shame, the child cared for nothing other than reading, He always seemed older than his age implied, surprisingly more intelligent than his peers & far more sophisticated, he devoured classics like snacks when he was merely 12 and though beginning his life with an unfathomable lust for knowledge in all fields, he became more focused on the ancient world, literature to him was not merely a means of escapism but he always would analyze the works of art he reads or looks at for codes and hidden meanings, He couldn't help but think the world had to be more interesting than whatever this is he saw in the news or heard his father talk about with his friends….Politics was all well and good but still it was too boring, his life was boring, his years in college, and how being of two worlds made life in Egypt difficult for him, his mindset, his ideals, he would occasionally go to England with his mother, and while they spent time in the countryside most of the time, Amjad would either be ill, or depressed and uninterested in venturing outside of his house, though while being in England he would begin flirting with the Templars and they would notice him as well, despite keeping to himself most of the time, He was somewhat turned off by their rather militaristic ways, and how they seemed more of a repressive environment, one thing Amjad craved and coveted more than anything was his freedom, total absolute freedom, But he abhorred anarchy, He was too ordered all the time, even when he was seemingly random or chaotic it all served a purpose, He'd joke with his family that his messy surrounding always had a method to them it wasn't just a "messy" apartment, there was method to all this madness.

After going through high school and college, he majored in Law, though he wasn't entirely interested in the subject, his studies weren't all that impressive academically, the whole studying regime didn't seem to take much if any of his mental capacity, he continued to grow intellectually; expanding his trove of knowledge in literature, art, poetry & the cultures of the Ancient world, he desired to be a novelist at some point of his life, though he was busy working several jobs for he never seemed to stabilize in one place, as much as he "preferred" stability, like all humans; people were afraid of change and he recognized this but he noticed how his life rarely if ever settled, his routine was somewhat fixed, composed mainly of reading or gaming if not surfing the web for more information, he always loved to dig, he'd have been an amazing Archaeologist if he but followed his mother's advice.

His a normal childhood, marred by one accident, His mother loved him dearly and one time his father was abroad on business in London, so his mother took him with him to an archaeological dig in the deserts, a Tomb of a Vizier of ancient Egypt, during the time of the New Kingdom, it was a Tomb well hidden, his Mother worked Decades to find it, the crown jewel of all her work, so she couldn't leave it unattended but also couldn't leave her son as his father was already abroad, so she took him with her, during one of the days the boy woke up in the middle of the night, as if heeding some unseen, unheard alarm, he woke into the tomb and he was not seen again till sunrise…his mother found him in front of the Tomb's entrance, something changed in him, shifted, he didn't become a darker child, though sometimes he showed a streak of violence, though he never hurt a living creature. When she looked In his eyes he seemed to have aged millennia in the span of one night, and she would sometimes catch glimpses of him speaking to himself and drawing some odd symbols with his fingers in the sand, in the air, He'd just look as if he sees another world entirely then…he'd be centered again.

Nobody knows what happened in that tomb, but the workers said they found handprints on certain walls though they couldn't seem to open at all, The accident itself didn't seem to harm the little boy at the time, he grew up normally enough, but he had a trinket he seemed unwilling to part with in his childhood, his mother thought it must've been part of what happened, a ring composed of a material the color of gold, a serpent coiling around another with an ibis head over them both, made of a white gemstone, the ring seemed incapable of being separated from him, even when his mother would take it it would mysteriously end up around her son's finger again, so his family never really…worried, about it, as for he himself? He'd dream….

Always feeling out of place in the modern world, Amjad's life always seemed like he was taken out of time and planted on this one, he always felt like something was missing, his dreams gave him some semblance of solace for they felt like they were memories, but they were impossible to be memories for the simple reason that they were from the days of the New Kingdom in Ancient Egypt!

In His waking hours though, Amjad took to the writing Medium, He always had a gift with words, even he himself did not understand, His novels often contain glimpses of a world that's ancient, resembling the history of the world we all know, but with a much darker twist...He almost tried his hand in every genre, His most notable work; the Black Sun, was a pseudo-history novel that spoke of Akhenaten & the Aten in a differing light entirely, Amjad was secretly biased against Monotheism, especially in Ancient Egypt, his take on the Enlightened Pharaoh who first broke the idea to Ancient Egypt after the days of the Hyksos' Apep, was intriguing and earned him severe backlash but like all his novels it also earned him critical acclaim for the commentary on the decay of modern civilization & how the modern man and his life pales in significance and comparison to that of the Ancient Man. Amjad wrote under a Pseudonym, thanks to his desire to live a private and quiet life content with selling more books and enjoying the financial gain. although sometimes his published works were fought in an odd way, bigger books from bigger names would be launched, an accident in the publisher's offices would deny his work from getting published, a shadow war was being fought against his work, and he never understood why, after all these were all just works of fiction.

But Backlash & acclaim? that wasn't all his novels earned him... He also earned something else, he attracted the Attention of the Big players.

=• The Secret War •=

Amjad's dreams were always the key to his true nature, who he truly was, but he never found out how, the dreams giving him glimpses of a strange time aided him in his Novel-writing career, But unbeknownst to him they were details of an old life of his, an ancient life.

One Ominous day, the Day of the Tokyo Bombing Amjad was asleep normally, But when he woke up he felt different, he felt like a presence in his own body, like it was him and it wasn't, he also felt an odd sense of clarity, and this time he remembered his dreams rather vividly as if he lived them. for a moment he stood in front of a mirror confused he tried to remember his own name, struggling for a moment trying to ground himself after waking up with this flood of new information and history in his mind; He walked around his new home, in a body that was his and not….Amjad, his name was Amjad, He recognized the tongue, it was of the desert tribes to the east, a land between his homeland and the home of the crossed ones, He remembered they conquered and erased….and yet here he was, the Last of the Sons of Khemet, No…No, he wasn't there were others, he remembered, emaciated, embalmed hands speaking with honey dripping voices….the Kingdom thrives….HE will present himself to them at some point but for now, the charade must continue….He is Amjad Selim of….Egypt…Khemet is a long forgotten memory, but there are so many secrets buried beneath the sands, secrets he hid, secrets his followers hid, he would find them, the crossed ones now hold the knowledge of the old world, He should seek them out….their libraries and evenings are still brimming with the musk of the old world he knew and loved….the Door knocks….standing at the door is a man draped in green, he recognizes him and it almost seems that the monk does too, to a degree he didn't think possible….before lips part….he falls to the ground, The Dragon just took him.
Amjad woke up and found himself in a neighborhood he never been to before, the signs were in a foreign language….it looked Asian, which is why he doesn't recognize it, that's not the only odd thing here….Amjad's new knowledge was as if he assimilated an old history of so many individuals into himself….but it wasn't overwhelming it wasn’t trying to overwrite his identity…it was HIS identity but just an added experience.

As he stumbled around the neighborhood he managed to find a market, then a small hotel, he went in and to his luck found someone that managed to speak English….but the things that person said were….rather illuminating….He began to understand the serpent he saw in his visions….a Dragon…THE Dragon.

=• Dreams of The Ancients •=

He always dreamed of times before, he knew it was him, but he never knew what he was doing, or where was he; pyramids, towers, rituals, kingdoms, empires, thrones. He was many things in those dreams; an artist, a poet, an adventurer, a Merchant, an alchemist, a priest, an adviser to kings, in his dreams he saw several symbols, some he recognized others he had no idea what were they, he would only learn of their meaning after his…awakening….not from his dreams, but from the blissful sleep of ignorance that envelops all that glimpse the secret world from outside not knowing that the darkness is actually staring back; he saw the eye and the Pyramid, how he conspired with them in times were the people of the nile were mere children inheriting the world after ages and ages from the Crossed ones, then he saw the crossed ones, bearing a symbol as old as the age of the ziggurats, but others believe it to be as new as their 'savior' He saw the tug of war between them, he was there, other men of influence were there, people who flirted with both factions, who wanted the knowledge harvested by the illuminated ones & the seemingly regal quest of the crossed ones, He saw in secret how some men of coin and influence cooked up rituals that will aid them to linger for eternity, he recognized the rituals as part of his craft, but incomplete for the world lost so much of its magic and its potency, he knew they would fail….but he also knew they would endure, in a scrying ritual at the temple of his favored god, the ibis headed Djehuty of wisdom, he glimpsed another…a serpent, not of destruction but of balance, of death and rebirth, he was intrigued, but his intrigue was short lived….betrayed, he was betrayed, the illuminated ones, they wanted the knowledge he hoarded for themselves, so they told the Crossed ones part of what they knew about him….He was of this world, but he wasn't of this age, no he was old, before history began, before the first of the Ziggurats were built…he was there, a witness to the passing of time, he forgot so much of what he once knew…He forgot more than some mystics would ever learn….the loss…a curse, to ever bear witness to the one truth of the universe….Birth, Death & rebirth was to be his path….and he walked it since the beginning of time for an affront to the old gods…He would return, he is doomed to return to repeat his dance with different moves, he saw the Heretic philosopher king bring the Sun to Khemet, bring the darkness to Khemet, He saw his reign passing, but his darkness remained, as the reign of all other Philosopher kings who were far more glorious. He saw the Illuminated ones leave, the crossed ones endured, the purple ones rose & fell…or so they seemed, and in the far east he glimpsed the serpent again and again, forever young, forever reborn….the kinship was unmistakable, the Serpent of the South was drawn to the Dragon.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Amjad's nature, combined with the history he shares with them meant that He & The Kingdom were on the same page in some aspects, While being aligned with the Dragon, He has several ties with the Shriveled Trade Princes of the Kingdom, though none of them is particularly fond enough of him for it seemed that Amjad himself achieved what they couldn't, although a marred mockery of it, not eternal life but reincarnation. Though it doesn't show on him particularly well, The Knowledge the Kingdom and Amjad can trade, as well as the Secrets, makes him somewhat begrudgingly valued among their ranks, though neither party brags about this connection, for it remains a secret.

=• Special Notes •=
Amjad's actually an ancient Vizier from the time of Ancient Egypt, though his most memorable memories are from the Time of the New Kingdom, He himself speculates that his heritage goes way beyond this age, but by some mercy, or curse, he only remembers a Certain Cycle...of a series of ones...Amjad's very history, seems to mirror that of the Dragon, heavily couched in the Concept of Reincarnation. Though he keeps his true self hidden from the rest of the world, to those onlooking, He's what he seems; In this day and Age, he is a man interested in the Secrets buried beneath the artificial curb. The normal life he always lived was never to be his, part of the curse undoubtedly, he knew, One night he went to his sleep, his journal next to him as per usual, to scribble down the hints of the dreams he saw. The bomb went off in Tokyo, the game changed, the Mother panicked and sent for her protectors, and one of them found him, the Undying Vizier, the Eternal one, the bee did not awaken magical potential, it amplified the one already existing, it unlocked a more coherent set of memories…..and skills. His first days after his awakening were teeming with research, the world was an open book, it was much more simple than the previous ages, even in the lands he was condemned to be reincarnated in time and time again, the splendor of the pharaohs fell, in their stead came puppets that attempted to force glory, they knew not what the world meant, barbarians and usurpers wearing familiar skins & faces. They were nothing like the old ones. The Gods were silent to his prayers, the new gods of the world were electric & digital…they were false and hollow, insecure as the modern man, stumbling and lost….

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Amjad's ring, a single stone ring, is more precious than it looks, though not made of any expensive material, it's a relic from his ancient life, the ring is composed of two coiling serpents crowned by an Ibis head where the single stone resides, the color of moonstone.

=• Personality, looks and mannerisms •=
Amjad's nature remains well hidden; to the world he's a simple, intelligent, sophisticated & compassionate man, with a streak of kindness, and a sense of humor that pretty much laughs in the face of anything, he's somewhat shy and introverted, fearful of the social masses, he's the wallflower in most parties, and his mannerisms are rather old fashioned he speaks in words that paint him in a much older light but he always stylizes them with as much modernity as he can...without sounding fake. When confronted about it, he always says that he's been an old soul all his life.

He's also kind and gentle, he values life...and though he tries to cover it with cynicism and sarcasm, he's a good soul, But he isn't above doing what is necessary, although if it was against his own code he'd usually try to find other ways to do it without violating his own integrity.

Amjad is a slim man, his stature is not so impressive, standing as a 5'4 feet and weighing only 110 pounds, he is often if not always clean shaven, his hair is usually messy, one quirk of his is the fact that he has an ancient egyptian styled eye-liner on almost all the time, a reminder to him of who he truly is. He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's physically inferior, but while his body is not the most impressive specimen compared to other warrior-esque individuals (as he labels them) his mind is his sharpest weapon, he seems to know plenty about plenty of things...though he hardly shoves it in people's faces, but whenever his input could be used he gives it willingly.

Amjad is a highly attuned and skilled in the occult & mystic arts, his interest in secret history possibly rivals Gladstone himself, one of the things he mourns is being unable to visit Gladstone's library and he considers it one of the most wasted opportunities of his recruitment by the Dragon.

His natural state is calm & quiet. He is a naturally laid back individual with a liberal and an open-minded set of ideals, he speaks softly and as eloquently as he can, taking pride in his words, for he is a novelist after all, he doesn't try to get recognized for his work, But is always glad to be. He is also a private person and wouldn't share much of the true details of his life preferring instead to study the individuals he's with, with the true novelist's mentality that every person he meets has a story and that story could be used or enhanced into a great one, he is motivated by finding the greatest story of all time....or possibly writing it. Even though he feels like this new ambition is not what he was originally born to do, but it is what he feels he wants in this life.

=• Special notes •=

- Amjad is a private individual and a shy person, he doesnt often approach others but sometimes he does out of sheer curiosity of boredom, or if he hears something that interests him.

- He Doesn't go around bragging about his novels or the work he does, instead when asked he sometimes references his other fields of interest; Archaeology, English Literature, Secret worlders familiar with his work who might be able to discern that he is the Name behind the Pseudonym he writes with would bring him some sort of intrigue and an ego boost for while he is shy he is not above being proud of being recognized for his work, especially the Black Sun that had him catch the Attention of the Secret World itself.

- Amjad remains a humanist, he is capable of compassion, he values human life, and though deeply interested in the human condition as a whole, his age has never severed him from the world, while he seems to have a laid back attitude about many things, he is difficult to surprise, or concern or worry, but he is still capable of human emotion although it is highly diluted, or as he is so fond of saying, it is an Elvish trait.

- Amjad places little value on Faction tags, if they exist, he never announces himself as a member of the Dragon, and the initial reactions one gets from him is usually him being a Templar, he doesn't strive to confirm or deny that, instead relishing in the game itself, He is not above helping others or dealing with others from different factions, though he remains wary for he is somewhat paranoid thanks to his history with the other Two, The Illuminati in particular give him a sour taste for it was they who Killed him in the old days, He is also open to dealing with those that are not humans, He holds everyone to be a possible asset or a source of information...or a story, so he always places his best foot forward dealing with whoever or whatever comes his way.

- Amjad is magically gifted in several forms of the mystic arts, though he remains a learner for he forgot most of the secrets he knew in his previous lives, including his true name. Which serves as a motive for him to traverse the world and particularly Egypt trying to learn everything he has forgotten or lost.


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2018-05-23T15:57:59Z

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2018-05-23T14:17:53Z

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