Phobia

Name: Phobia
Nickname: Fear Incarnate, Empress of the Dead, Wrath of Nexus
Age: Unknown, looks 11
Sexuality: Asexual
Race: Fear/Fallen God
Special features:


Personality: What kind of behavior patterns do you have? What emotions do you show prominently? How do you act around friends, enemies, lovers, leaders? How do you act in combat? How do you act as a leader? 200 word minimum.

Without investigation, Phobia looks and acts as though she were a shy 11year old girl.  Underneath this layer however is something much more terrifying.  Her feelings never get in the way of her goals or the goals of those she is following, and in her previous lives she was a manipulating and privileged being, however, after recently reforming having lost her adult form and many of her memories, it seems that her mind itself is reshaping itself.  Whether she knows what she has done and hides it away or has completely forgotten is a matter she does not speak about, and it is almost certain those around her believe this to be her first form.

To her allies, as friendship with her is difficult, if not impossible, she is calm and calculating, always under the assumption a person will put themselves ahead of the goal.  Though when she does begin to trust those around her, she begins to feel uncomfortable, as though she was not created for such things, and thoughts run through her mind of betrayal and deceit, making her paranoid and angry.  On the same note, a Lover is almost impossible for her as her goals are above all else.  Her current body also does not help a romantic light shine as many would think a girl as young as her to be incapable as such.  

Enemies are not a problem, as she quickly dispatches any she believes to be a hindrance to her current planning.  Not only this, but even if someone is an "enemy" to those around her, she tends to see all sides of a situation and is very easy-going.  Through all this she even has a small sense of humor that has begun developing.  She realizes her emotions have begun to flourish the longer she remains a physical being, and the thought terrifies her.  The thrill of killing has slowly become a chore and a horror, and giving those around her a sense of dread has a empty feeling to it.  

Her prowess in combat has succeeded in her multiple lives, and she has grown accustomed to the way of the scythe.  A unwieldy weapon to most, she is able to be very swift and calculating in her attempts at breaking ones guard, and tends to be very straightforward out.  Dragging out a fight is not like her, though when she finds enjoyment in the person she is fighting it isn't impossible to say she won't hold back slightly.  Being a leader never appealed and Phobia much rather prefers to be a follower or a tool.  A tool that manipulates and makes the best of a comfortable situation.

Likes: Chaos, Emotion, Fright, Rain, The Sky, Other Gods, Churches, knowledge
Dislikes:  The weak minded, Fire, Archery, ignorance
Motivations:
Ascension: Being created a fallen god from the get-go, Phobia wishes to ascend past the immediate damnation of being a Fallen, and hopes to one day join the other gods in Aether with a new purpose.  Though she knows her current obligations are of greater importance, her hopes are always in the back seat waiting to take over

Find purpose: Wandering since her own creation, Phobia has no real name or physical obligation to any nation, person, or thing.  She wishes to find a true name for herself and find something to believe in.  

Fears:
Fear of Being Forgotten:  Phobia fears of becoming nothing but a burned out legend.  She wants to stay a relevant fear in the hearts of people even after she is no longer able to spread fear.

Nothingness: Phobia isn't necessarily afraid of the evenetual dissipation of her own being once fear fades from human-kind, however, she is not ready for it to happen and hopes that if it does, there will be a way to preserve herself.



Height: 4ft
Weight: 50lbs
Eye color: Goldenrod
Hair color: White
Appearance:


Background: What has your character been doing in recent history, past month, week or days. 100 word minimum. (Optional)
History: Prologue
Fear has existed since the beginning of time, and as such, so has Phobia.  Though a physical form is not always given as soon as birth. Only when the fear throughout the worlds became strong enough did Phobia exist in the physical plane. It was at said time war was brewing, armies collided and many died.  Religion grew as people sought shelter from the hellfire of arrows, and kings fell to their peoples will.  ---------

Phobia at fill power, sought to destroy what the world's power structures had held dear, their puny systems meant nothing and everywhere it went, destruction followed.  The being realizing destruction through intimacy was the easier of the two routes, and though a woman's place was by her Kings, Phobia managed to control them with fear.  Seducing what it wanted, and changing form every fall, Phobia became a legend, the woman in the mist.  People sought out the legend, only to find dead ends every which way.  However It would be soon that the first downfall would happen.

Perhaps It was human emotion that began the descent.  Becoming attached to a target may have been the push over the edge.  Phobia had always been a sucker for romance. A small town in a ridge of mountain near LeVain had always looked fairly cozy to Phobia, a place where it could study the habits of humans, and slowly drive the place mad without too much effort.  However over the years it would seem Phobia had began to develope even more than just a body, Phobia was becoming something, someone.   Emotion other than lust began to flood into it's mind.  Pushing these thoughts aside however, Phobia began to once again slowly corrupt the King.  The King however instead of following the stead of his predecessors, he treated her like family.  So she went with it, and as the years passed, when she only stayed beautiful, the Kings advisors grew suspicious.  The King however thought nothing of it.   Accusing Phobia of being a witch and a seductress, a mob of people ran her out of town where, due to her loyalty to The King, she was burned at the stake.  

She awoke days later still nailed to the same cross, abandoned atop a mountain.  The summit air stung as it whipped against her charred skin.  A lone man sat across from Phobia, shielded from the wind by a small tarp of tanned skin and a fire.  He stared into her golden eyes, shining behind blackened skin.  Her strength had left her when the fire warped her body.  She hoped to be killed and pleaded with the man.  "Erase me from this foul world, destroy my body."  He ignored her please and only toyed with her mind.  He called her a witch and a monster.  A fate like this suited her he said.  Eternity atop a mountain.  As the years passed, it seemed the men that watched Phobia grew older and older, and in unison, she grew weaker and weaker.  Weakness to the point of where she could no longer move or speak, the only speck of life would be her golden eyes, frozen open by the cold.  

Loss is natural upon death.  As her body slowly degraded, the fear in the world too began to succumb to bravery and peace.  Wars halted, countries united, kingdoms were born, and people were happy.  This peace however was never meant to last.  Peace never was.  Years went by the guards atop the mountain that kept Phobia company became nothing more than a ritual once every dark moon.  Death...  Death was what she dreaded most, though the comfort of it's embrace would never reach her.  With one last look below, the mountain top had become nothing more than a shrine for a forgotten fear, but fear must never be forgotten, as if it is, and none look for it's presence, prepare for it, then it will slither it's way back into the world stronger than ever, and as her body withered her spirit was livid.  When she finally faded away, she was created anew, as fear always was.  A never ending emotion.  As you may overcome fear, but it will never die.  

Rebirth....

Awaking in a forest, flowers around her, a newly christened Phobia looked around, her long white hair and golden eyes, beauty beyond belief.  It was time for fear to live again.  

RP Sample: A cold wind slapped Phobia across the face as she waded through the low cold waters towards Veri, a small and isolated mountain peak getaway, at least that was what It was to many.  A place where past sorrows did not matter, and living wasn't required.  Yes. It could be true that the dead used the space known as Veri to relive their pitiful lives, and few dared to venture in to relieve them of their pain.  Phobia was sent by request of her King, a man that wasn't the most... Forthcoming, but meant well in his own ways and knew the paths that needed to be taken to achieve his goals.  While admirance was one thing she didn't have for the man, a respect for his power and devotion to goals needed to be admitted.

The worst part about killing the dead wasn't their needless screams, the way their eyes fill with life just as they cry their last cry, no...  The guards lit up as her white hair floated to the top of the water before she appeared herself.  They almost openly welcomed the small girl, it was a sure bet that spirits wandered to this place every now and then, though they knew her mal intent.  They weren't quick enough ans before their blades could be drawn her scythe had slain their souls.  Bursting through the doors, her path had been laid out for her.  Lined with torches of a ghastly blue she walked towards the small hut atop the summit.  Those in her way screamed as her blade tore their very existence.  It was lackluster however.  Their bodies whisping into nothingness.  The worst about killing the dead.. There was no mess.

"You don't have to do this, please, what do you want... Money?" A spirit dressed in traditional advisor garbs look onward at the small figure with disdain.  Ever centimeter Phobia moved the spirit moved backwards tenfold. Its fear was... Delicious, the pity she held for each and every creature was disgraceful she felt, though her feelings had long ago distanced themselves from her.  Were they ever HER feelings at all? She though to herself.  When had they gone exactly, it was as though time up until the point she joined her new king was a void.   Why was someone as fearful and powerful as herself a small child.  She enjoyed the form, though it did not click.  Was she really a she?  Geting lost in her thoughts a spear was rammed through her face jutting out the backend, darkened blood dripping from its tip.  A jolt back to reality.

As her flesh melded around the spear she yanked her head backwards, taking the spear from the man's hands as it desolved into her body.   The spirit began to plead once more at this, falling backwards in fright.  She smiled at him as though she were his pupil, a small school child. Her blank golden eyes motioned towards the large statue to their right.  Almost certainly a depiction of their leader.  The only reason she was here.  Though tales said he was a righteous and sturdy man capable of taking the heat of battle.  

The spirit saw the motion and pleaded once more. " if I show you, you, you won't k-kill me will you?"  The man's stuttering annoyed yet pleased her.  It was depressing he could be frightened by her in this form, but oh so satisfying. She only stared blankly at the man. He knew she wouldn't let him live, his begging only egged her on. "You won't will you? "

"JUST SAY SOMETHING FOR LORDS SAKE!"

She once again motions with her eyes to the statue.  It was getting annoying now, and the man understood, he stood up, shaking and frightened, and motioned towards behind the throne.  Nodding she sweeper upwards with her scythe, gutting the ghost and leaving him obliterated,  walking up to the large throne, it's immaculate design made for lineage of a better era, she noticed a crack beneath the throne and knelt down to look through it. She smelled his fear throughout the corridor, and with a twist of her neck, she conformed her body through the crack and was on the other side, staring into the eyes of the man.

Raising her scythe, her voice was soft and almost monotone. "Hello Love."




Reference: Me
Face claim: Shiro/No Game No Life

Done bumperoo

Approved now go nuts~