Constantine "Augustus" Dragases
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Appearance
Old appearance
Constantine was a considerably handsome man in his youth and up to his mid-thirties. He was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His hair and beard were raven black, while his skin tanned a perfect golden hue, giving off a healthy glow. Constantine had light brown eyes, so light in shade that they sometimes appeared honey-colored when contrasted with his much darker hair and amber-ish skin. As far as his facial structure was concerned, he appeared caucasian. A square jaw, well defined, if not slightly protruding chin, accented cheekbones, and a high resting forehead. Between his two eyes sat a pointy nose, a bit longer than the average and with a base slightly wider than one would expect, but not enough to put a blemish on Constantine's divine appearance.
He had thick and bushy eyebrows that made him all the more captivating, framing his eyes like a living portrait. When furrowed together they made him appear threatening, slightly feral even. Young Constantine took good care of his hair, using ointments and protective oils to shield it from wear and tear. He kept his hair short, never letting it go past the ears until he hit his early twenties, this was when he let it grow out into beautiful mana that reached to his masculine shoulders. He'd later brain it or make dreads when on a journey, either on foot or via a caravan. He did this because shoulder-length hair requires time and effort to take care of, this goes double for Constantine's hair which was very thick and voluminous. Braiding it would save him precious hours worth of time spent on haircare.
He had a couple of large scars spread across his lower and upper torso, predominantly his stomach and back area. It was unclear as to how he got these scars, but one can make an educated guess that whatever inflicted them upon his body was neither man nor beast. These scars haven't healed completely, turning into narrow patches of silver that glow in the sunlight. An average person would see these bands of connective tissue as something hideous, but not Constantine. He took pride in them, and it'd be a lie to say that they haven't landed him a few beautiful women.
"Being ugly is such an unfortunate circumstance. A man can work to sharpen his wit, exercise to grow his physique, and rely on experience to improve social skills. But true physical beauty is hard to outdo, and one can only improve their natural beauty to a limited degree. Think of it as a game of luck, some people lose while other people win."
Post Change
The eldritch lore Constantine sought and researched caused physical changes to his body. His skin turned deathly alabaster, his hair, both facial and bodily fell off, leaving him naked as a mole rat. Constantine's beautiful ember eyes mutated into a pair of deeply crimson orbs; this has caused people to mistake him for a vampire on more than one occasion. Furthermore, his skin experienced not only a change in color but a change in texture as well. Once it was smooth to touch, only to become gaunt and thickened, spread out like boiled leather. Constantine retained his old muscles, seemingly losing none of the functional strength or the physical abilities that his old body had. Yet he did go out of his way to carve himself up with many strange symbols, mutilating his flesh day and night with feverish glee, constantly re-invigorating himself regardless of the damage done. He wouldn't die no matter how much of his own flesh he peeled off to write the archaic symbols. He even went as far as to burn a bright red tilak into his forehead by using a hot piece of iron.
As far as clothing is concerned, Constantine has two primary attires. Sometimes he wore a heavy green uniform with spike-studded black armor and originally, with a yin-yang emblem on it, which seems regal, he uses it for formal gatherings. When in combat he can simply discard the unnecessary parts of his attire, leaving him with half a portion of his armor and new black gloves, his torso bares otherwise. Later on, he alters his style even further by combining the two previous ones. While he is still topless, he now wears an armored cuirass with spikes on his collar. It is no secret that Constantine became slightly eccentric when it came to how he dressed himself, picking clothes that scream "get away from me" or "I ingest the souls of children for supper". While not being that kind of person, he certainly upholds the image to a tee.
Constantine was a considerably handsome man in his youth and up to his mid-thirties. He was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His hair and beard were raven black, while his skin tanned a perfect golden hue, giving off a healthy glow. Constantine had light brown eyes, so light in shade that they sometimes appeared honey-colored when contrasted with his much darker hair and amber-ish skin. As far as his facial structure was concerned, he appeared caucasian. A square jaw, well defined, if not slightly protruding chin, accented cheekbones, and a high resting forehead. Between his two eyes sat a pointy nose, a bit longer than the average and with a base slightly wider than one would expect, but not enough to put a blemish on Constantine's divine appearance.
He had thick and bushy eyebrows that made him all the more captivating, framing his eyes like a living portrait. When furrowed together they made him appear threatening, slightly feral even. Young Constantine took good care of his hair, using ointments and protective oils to shield it from wear and tear. He kept his hair short, never letting it go past the ears until he hit his early twenties, this was when he let it grow out into beautiful mana that reached to his masculine shoulders. He'd later brain it or make dreads when on a journey, either on foot or via a caravan. He did this because shoulder-length hair requires time and effort to take care of, this goes double for Constantine's hair which was very thick and voluminous. Braiding it would save him precious hours worth of time spent on haircare.
He had a couple of large scars spread across his lower and upper torso, predominantly his stomach and back area. It was unclear as to how he got these scars, but one can make an educated guess that whatever inflicted them upon his body was neither man nor beast. These scars haven't healed completely, turning into narrow patches of silver that glow in the sunlight. An average person would see these bands of connective tissue as something hideous, but not Constantine. He took pride in them, and it'd be a lie to say that they haven't landed him a few beautiful women.
"Being ugly is such an unfortunate circumstance. A man can work to sharpen his wit, exercise to grow his physique, and rely on experience to improve social skills. But true physical beauty is hard to outdo, and one can only improve their natural beauty to a limited degree. Think of it as a game of luck, some people lose while other people win."
Post Change
The eldritch lore Constantine sought and researched caused physical changes to his body. His skin turned deathly alabaster, his hair, both facial and bodily fell off, leaving him naked as a mole rat. Constantine's beautiful ember eyes mutated into a pair of deeply crimson orbs; this has caused people to mistake him for a vampire on more than one occasion. Furthermore, his skin experienced not only a change in color but a change in texture as well. Once it was smooth to touch, only to become gaunt and thickened, spread out like boiled leather. Constantine retained his old muscles, seemingly losing none of the functional strength or the physical abilities that his old body had. Yet he did go out of his way to carve himself up with many strange symbols, mutilating his flesh day and night with feverish glee, constantly re-invigorating himself regardless of the damage done. He wouldn't die no matter how much of his own flesh he peeled off to write the archaic symbols. He even went as far as to burn a bright red tilak into his forehead by using a hot piece of iron.
As far as clothing is concerned, Constantine has two primary attires. Sometimes he wore a heavy green uniform with spike-studded black armor and originally, with a yin-yang emblem on it, which seems regal, he uses it for formal gatherings. When in combat he can simply discard the unnecessary parts of his attire, leaving him with half a portion of his armor and new black gloves, his torso bares otherwise. Later on, he alters his style even further by combining the two previous ones. While he is still topless, he now wears an armored cuirass with spikes on his collar. It is no secret that Constantine became slightly eccentric when it came to how he dressed himself, picking clothes that scream "get away from me" or "I ingest the souls of children for supper". While not being that kind of person, he certainly upholds the image to a tee.
Skills and Abilities
Magical Abilities - Rune magic
Indeed, Constantine wasn't magically gifted before his change, since then, his potential in arcane arts has skyrocketed. He uses a pretty simple, yet highly effective form of spellcasting called Rune Magic or Sigil Magic. It revolves around using magical symbols with an assigned value, these symbols store raw magic; raw magic which is transformed for a specific purpose upon their activation. Runes might be limited in the scope of what they can do, being bound by a harder set of rules than most other magic types; but their versatility should not be underestimated. A skilled user can use multiple runes in conjuncture, layering them over one another in a way that allows them to mutually strengthen each other.
Runes can be split into four primary types: Enchantment, Elemental, Stun/Trap, and Summoning runes. Runes can only be applied through physical contact, Constantine must touch an object first to impart his magic upon it.
Enchantment Runes
"That which is broken shall be fixed. That which is dull will be sharp. Thus is the nature of the Enchant runes magick."
These are probably the simplest runes to use and understand. You slap them onto an object/person/creature/etc. and the rune can enchant one specific attribute of the caster's choosing. A single enchantment rune can only enhance one attribute at a time, but that doesn't prevent the user from simultaneously applying multiple of these runes to an object. Enchantment runes get weaker as they move away from their caster, this means that they are most effective at enhancing things in the user's vicinity (melee weapons, artifacts, or even the user themselves).
If used on ranged weapons they have to be charged first. Charging works by applying the Enchantment rune to the weapon and then not using it for a set number of turns. The runes stabilize and become more powerful during this period, their potency directly proportional to the length of charging. So an Enchantment rune that gets charged for two posts is twice as powerful as one that was only charged for one post. Constantine can use 4 enchantment runes before having to wait for 5 posts until they all recharge.
When a single Enchantment rune is being used to enhance an object, it can last up to 6 posts. When two are used to enhance the same object they'll last for 4 posts and when all three are used on the same object/person they can only last for 3 turns. Enchantment Runes cannot be directly applied to an opponent's body (like making someone more susceptible to an x type of damage by slapping the rune on them).
Enchantment runes can be mixed with other rune types to slightly reconfigure their characteristics. Such is the case when mixing enchantment with stun/trap runes. It enables the user to enhance weapons that will deal greater damage through mana combustion.
Elemental Runes
"Certain runes can emulate the fury of Mother nature, manifesting as her primeval elements. Such attacks are highly damaging, but come at a cost."
These are, as their name implies, runes that can imitate elemental properties by transforming their raw magic into different elements such as fire, water, electricity, wind, frost, and rot/toxic. Elemental runes cannot be used directly, the caster must first apply them to an object or person and then use the physical anchor as a discharging point. Thankfully the elements produced by the runes do not harm the person casting them. Elemental runes work with the same charge mechanic as enchantment runes, the longer they stabilize, the stronger they get as a result of said stabilization. Without charging they are relatively weak.
An individual elemental rune can only be used once, meaning that it'll dematerialize once fully discharged, preventing the user from utilizing it more than once. Constantine can use 3 elemental runes before having a 6 posts long cooldown.
Summoning Runes
As their name implies, Summoning runes are used to summon entities from different planes of existence. These entities are usually there to do combat on behalf of whoever summoned them. The size and power of a summoned creature are proportional to how many runes have been used to summon it. With one rune you can summon something the size of a large domestic cat. With two a human-sized creature may come forth, and so on. Weaker creatures are easier to control since the caster can create a perfect mental link with them. More powerful entities may work in tandem with their summoner, while not being subservient to them.
They can be activated manually by the caster or if the target gets within their effective range (2 meters). If the caster gets more than 30 meters away from the rune, it will not fire off.
Some creatures are so big that only parts of their bodies can be summoned under normal circumstances. Constantine can use 4 summoning runes, followed by a 7 posts long cooldown. Due to this, he can only control 4 creatures at once. If a summon is Alan in battle, they return to their home realm and reform within 24h.
◤━━━━━━━━━┓
►Stun/Trap Runes◄
┗━━━━◢
────────────────────
"This incantation exerts a force of mystical power within the confines of its runes. Nothing may enter till it is dispelled."
────────────────────
➢This is where things get fun, to say the least. Stun and Trap runes do exactly what their name implies, they can stn or trap an opponent through three different methods. They can either temporarily slow down a target for one post, damage them by causing the mystical energies in their body to spontaneously combust/explode, or trap them in a force field for one post.
The amount of magical damage done through mana burning depends on the target's arcane proficiency. A warrior with barely any magic at hand may incur nothing more than a few bruises, while a powerful wizard can very well end up with a multitude of ruptured organs and lethal injuries; since the target's reserves of energy get depleted by this attack, they'll have a harder time retaliating with spells of their own.
One of the bigger disadvantages when it comes to these runes is that they can't affect the target that's further than 1.5 meters away from them. They can be activated manually by the caster or if the target gets within their effective range. If the caster gets more than 30 meters away from the rune, it will not fire off. Stun runes can only be seen by the user (unless the opponent can sense magic).
Constantine can use two of these runes back to back before a 4 posts long cooldown ensues.
Indeed, Constantine wasn't magically gifted before his change, since then, his potential in arcane arts has skyrocketed. He uses a pretty simple, yet highly effective form of spellcasting called Rune Magic or Sigil Magic. It revolves around using magical symbols with an assigned value, these symbols store raw magic; raw magic which is transformed for a specific purpose upon their activation. Runes might be limited in the scope of what they can do, being bound by a harder set of rules than most other magic types; but their versatility should not be underestimated. A skilled user can use multiple runes in conjuncture, layering them over one another in a way that allows them to mutually strengthen each other.
Runes can be split into four primary types: Enchantment, Elemental, Stun/Trap, and Summoning runes. Runes can only be applied through physical contact, Constantine must touch an object first to impart his magic upon it.
Enchantment Runes
"That which is broken shall be fixed. That which is dull will be sharp. Thus is the nature of the Enchant runes magick."
These are probably the simplest runes to use and understand. You slap them onto an object/person/creature/etc. and the rune can enchant one specific attribute of the caster's choosing. A single enchantment rune can only enhance one attribute at a time, but that doesn't prevent the user from simultaneously applying multiple of these runes to an object. Enchantment runes get weaker as they move away from their caster, this means that they are most effective at enhancing things in the user's vicinity (melee weapons, artifacts, or even the user themselves).
If used on ranged weapons they have to be charged first. Charging works by applying the Enchantment rune to the weapon and then not using it for a set number of turns. The runes stabilize and become more powerful during this period, their potency directly proportional to the length of charging. So an Enchantment rune that gets charged for two posts is twice as powerful as one that was only charged for one post. Constantine can use 4 enchantment runes before having to wait for 5 posts until they all recharge.
When a single Enchantment rune is being used to enhance an object, it can last up to 6 posts. When two are used to enhance the same object they'll last for 4 posts and when all three are used on the same object/person they can only last for 3 turns. Enchantment Runes cannot be directly applied to an opponent's body (like making someone more susceptible to an x type of damage by slapping the rune on them).
Enchantment runes can be mixed with other rune types to slightly reconfigure their characteristics. Such is the case when mixing enchantment with stun/trap runes. It enables the user to enhance weapons that will deal greater damage through mana combustion.
Elemental Runes
"Certain runes can emulate the fury of Mother nature, manifesting as her primeval elements. Such attacks are highly damaging, but come at a cost."
These are, as their name implies, runes that can imitate elemental properties by transforming their raw magic into different elements such as fire, water, electricity, wind, frost, and rot/toxic. Elemental runes cannot be used directly, the caster must first apply them to an object or person and then use the physical anchor as a discharging point. Thankfully the elements produced by the runes do not harm the person casting them. Elemental runes work with the same charge mechanic as enchantment runes, the longer they stabilize, the stronger they get as a result of said stabilization. Without charging they are relatively weak.
An individual elemental rune can only be used once, meaning that it'll dematerialize once fully discharged, preventing the user from utilizing it more than once. Constantine can use 3 elemental runes before having a 6 posts long cooldown.
Summoning Runes
As their name implies, Summoning runes are used to summon entities from different planes of existence. These entities are usually there to do combat on behalf of whoever summoned them. The size and power of a summoned creature are proportional to how many runes have been used to summon it. With one rune you can summon something the size of a large domestic cat. With two a human-sized creature may come forth, and so on. Weaker creatures are easier to control since the caster can create a perfect mental link with them. More powerful entities may work in tandem with their summoner, while not being subservient to them.
They can be activated manually by the caster or if the target gets within their effective range (2 meters). If the caster gets more than 30 meters away from the rune, it will not fire off.
Some creatures are so big that only parts of their bodies can be summoned under normal circumstances. Constantine can use 4 summoning runes, followed by a 7 posts long cooldown. Due to this, he can only control 4 creatures at once. If a summon is Alan in battle, they return to their home realm and reform within 24h.
◤━━━━━━━━━┓
►Stun/Trap Runes◄
┗━━━━◢
────────────────────
"This incantation exerts a force of mystical power within the confines of its runes. Nothing may enter till it is dispelled."
────────────────────
➢This is where things get fun, to say the least. Stun and Trap runes do exactly what their name implies, they can stn or trap an opponent through three different methods. They can either temporarily slow down a target for one post, damage them by causing the mystical energies in their body to spontaneously combust/explode, or trap them in a force field for one post.
The amount of magical damage done through mana burning depends on the target's arcane proficiency. A warrior with barely any magic at hand may incur nothing more than a few bruises, while a powerful wizard can very well end up with a multitude of ruptured organs and lethal injuries; since the target's reserves of energy get depleted by this attack, they'll have a harder time retaliating with spells of their own.
One of the bigger disadvantages when it comes to these runes is that they can't affect the target that's further than 1.5 meters away from them. They can be activated manually by the caster or if the target gets within their effective range. If the caster gets more than 30 meters away from the rune, it will not fire off. Stun runes can only be seen by the user (unless the opponent can sense magic).
Constantine can use two of these runes back to back before a 4 posts long cooldown ensues.
Personality
As a young adult and a young man
Being good-looking, born into a relatively well-standing family, and having an above-average intellect are all one hell of an advantage, such advantages usually breed arrogance, and arrogance breeds contempt, creating a vicious circle. Constantine was a vain man, prideful and boisterous, with an unending reserve of confidence regarding his abilities. This arrogance only doubled in intensity once he figured out that he could both talk-the-talk and walk-the-walk. Constantine excelled in fields both physical and mental. At a young age, he became a superb athlete, outstripping his peers in combat prowess and general athleticism. He loved hunting since it allowed him to publicly showcase his dominance over creatures far stronger and far more vicious than humans. Armed with his wit, physique, and the best equipment he could find, Constantine set out to slay man and beast alike, he killed countless orcs, trolls, and carnivorous animals. The male went as far as to kill a grown lion, slaying the beast with a simple spear while wearing no protection sans a loincloth to shield his masculinity.
He had the dead animal skinned, its hide fashioned into a cloak with the lion's mane partially retained to be used as a makeshift hood. Constantine was a spitting image of an energetic, bright, talkative, and above all a sociable man. A natural competitor who sought nothing short of perfection in all of his endeavors. He kept track of his accomplishments and saw everything as a competition. Constantine's favorite foe was none other than himself; he took great pride in his ability to overcome himself, to control his behavior, and to subdue most of his character flaws and vices, except his festering arrogance and a desire to prove himself. His peculiar and almost military-like upbringing shaped him into a noble but sharp man, a person that raveled in victory while at the same time not being indifferent to human suffering. Constantine acted out on his social urges, befriending people in need, making acquaintances, and retaining a strong bond with his family, his father, in particular, acted as Constantine's role model.
Looking at it from a wider perspective, it is clear that Constantine always had somewhat of a savior complex. He helped people out of the goodness of his heart, but the pleasure derived from their gratitude wasn't entirely selfless. One could say that Constantine extended his hand to others as a means to kill two birds with one stone; to overcome their challenge, hence proving that he was their superior and to actually help them while doing so. It was also around his mid to late twenties that he developed a dislike for orcs, trolls, tieflings, and several other non-human races. He hated undead the most, seeing their foul forms as a perversion to life and anathema to all things good. He preached that humans, elves, and dwarves should come together to persecute and exterminate these creatures, given that he saw them as nothing more than ravenous vermin, hence why he felt no remorse when it came to killing them.
"Oh, you have no clue. Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my mind. Could it be that we are all eternally enslaved? Slaving away to our basal instincts, to our need to feed, rest, find companionship and procreate? I refuse to believe that there is naught greater in life than what mother nature compels us to be."
Post Change
His arrogance has dwindled ever since, replaced by healthy confidence and newfound wisdom. Constantine had traded his beauty and physical appeal for knowledge and power eternal, showing little regret for what he has done. His....sociable behaviors changed, he no longer looks for large groups of friends or associates, preferring to work alone in his comfort zone. Constantine knows that people are fickle, and if they are not fickle then they are temporary. Ever since he "changed" Constantine began to value personal ties less and less, associating them with loss, grief, and suffering. Not so much immoral as amoral, he stands as an inquisitive, apathetic observer most of the time, assessing people and situations while throwing out morality and the concept of grey areas as contaminating factors. He isn't evil, and can even be reasoned with if one side provides a solid argument. He isn't truly emotionless either. Quite on the contrary, he has a wide range of emotions, but they are jumbled up and inconsistent. Due to his emotions being irregularly scattered, Constantine shows a variety of almost random behaviors.
His mind is capable of shifting from logical to illogical and vice versa. Yet he is prone to acting somewhere in between the two spectrums. In the end, he'd want nothing more than to finally settle down somewhere and live a life that is at least semi-normal. Alas, previous attempts at doing this have all failed miserably. Mostly due to his emotional handicap. Constantine even describes his brain as a tangled mess of mashed-up wires. Wires that he has to manually plug into different ports just to function on day to day basis. He can also be quite vindictive, holding grudges for a long time and displaying sadistic pleasure when inflicting pain on those who annoy him. Thankfully, annoying him is pretty hard. He doesn't concern himself too much with the opinions and emotions of other people. Because of his tremendous experience and skill, he has very little patience for the arrogant, especially those who are weak.
Despite his bravado, Constantine is not without clarity. He is woefully aware of his shortcomings. He will even go out of his way to reaffirm that he most likely is varying degrees of insane. When correctly criticized he is prone to taking the critique to his heart. He tries to improve, gaining a better grasp of what it means to be a human. Weirdly enough, he isn't a pessimist, believing that people can always save themselves as long as they are willing to put their effort into it. He dislikes people who can't think for themselves, calling them dim-witted and half-baked. He won't associate himself with those who allow others to manipulate them easily, seeing them as weak and a dead weight. Constantine places great value and emphasis on things such as bravery, loyalty, cunning, dedication, and charism. Things that transcend the quirks of materialism, these that cannot be attained through the application of physical wealth. They are concepts, therefore eternal and everlasting. Theirs is a universal value, they cannot be spent, depleted, or stolen by another; hence why Constantine respects people who display these qualities.
He is scared of being alone, of being trapped and stagnating. The idea terrifies him to no end. He has a collection of fears that deal with being trapped without enough space. Claustrophobia, small spaces, being unable to breathe and the underground and dust, of being at the center of everything and it is all pushing down. His fear of stagnation is liked with death and the afterlife. He fears not existing, or not being able to push forward past a certain point. One could say that he fears "finite potential" and instead desires to be infinite and live forever.
Thankfully he doesn't fear change, given that he was more than willing to shed his beautiful form for something much greater.
Rejecting his old body can be seen as a sign of rebirth, something beautiful and everchanging. Mortal flesh is weak, and the human soul is simply bound to it as an interface through which it can interact with the physical world. But if one could truly relieve themselves of their meaty prison, they could attain eternal life and a degree of clarity that the fickle human mind can only dream of.
Being good-looking, born into a relatively well-standing family, and having an above-average intellect are all one hell of an advantage, such advantages usually breed arrogance, and arrogance breeds contempt, creating a vicious circle. Constantine was a vain man, prideful and boisterous, with an unending reserve of confidence regarding his abilities. This arrogance only doubled in intensity once he figured out that he could both talk-the-talk and walk-the-walk. Constantine excelled in fields both physical and mental. At a young age, he became a superb athlete, outstripping his peers in combat prowess and general athleticism. He loved hunting since it allowed him to publicly showcase his dominance over creatures far stronger and far more vicious than humans. Armed with his wit, physique, and the best equipment he could find, Constantine set out to slay man and beast alike, he killed countless orcs, trolls, and carnivorous animals. The male went as far as to kill a grown lion, slaying the beast with a simple spear while wearing no protection sans a loincloth to shield his masculinity.
He had the dead animal skinned, its hide fashioned into a cloak with the lion's mane partially retained to be used as a makeshift hood. Constantine was a spitting image of an energetic, bright, talkative, and above all a sociable man. A natural competitor who sought nothing short of perfection in all of his endeavors. He kept track of his accomplishments and saw everything as a competition. Constantine's favorite foe was none other than himself; he took great pride in his ability to overcome himself, to control his behavior, and to subdue most of his character flaws and vices, except his festering arrogance and a desire to prove himself. His peculiar and almost military-like upbringing shaped him into a noble but sharp man, a person that raveled in victory while at the same time not being indifferent to human suffering. Constantine acted out on his social urges, befriending people in need, making acquaintances, and retaining a strong bond with his family, his father, in particular, acted as Constantine's role model.
Looking at it from a wider perspective, it is clear that Constantine always had somewhat of a savior complex. He helped people out of the goodness of his heart, but the pleasure derived from their gratitude wasn't entirely selfless. One could say that Constantine extended his hand to others as a means to kill two birds with one stone; to overcome their challenge, hence proving that he was their superior and to actually help them while doing so. It was also around his mid to late twenties that he developed a dislike for orcs, trolls, tieflings, and several other non-human races. He hated undead the most, seeing their foul forms as a perversion to life and anathema to all things good. He preached that humans, elves, and dwarves should come together to persecute and exterminate these creatures, given that he saw them as nothing more than ravenous vermin, hence why he felt no remorse when it came to killing them.
"Oh, you have no clue. Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my mind. Could it be that we are all eternally enslaved? Slaving away to our basal instincts, to our need to feed, rest, find companionship and procreate? I refuse to believe that there is naught greater in life than what mother nature compels us to be."
Post Change
His arrogance has dwindled ever since, replaced by healthy confidence and newfound wisdom. Constantine had traded his beauty and physical appeal for knowledge and power eternal, showing little regret for what he has done. His....sociable behaviors changed, he no longer looks for large groups of friends or associates, preferring to work alone in his comfort zone. Constantine knows that people are fickle, and if they are not fickle then they are temporary. Ever since he "changed" Constantine began to value personal ties less and less, associating them with loss, grief, and suffering. Not so much immoral as amoral, he stands as an inquisitive, apathetic observer most of the time, assessing people and situations while throwing out morality and the concept of grey areas as contaminating factors. He isn't evil, and can even be reasoned with if one side provides a solid argument. He isn't truly emotionless either. Quite on the contrary, he has a wide range of emotions, but they are jumbled up and inconsistent. Due to his emotions being irregularly scattered, Constantine shows a variety of almost random behaviors.
His mind is capable of shifting from logical to illogical and vice versa. Yet he is prone to acting somewhere in between the two spectrums. In the end, he'd want nothing more than to finally settle down somewhere and live a life that is at least semi-normal. Alas, previous attempts at doing this have all failed miserably. Mostly due to his emotional handicap. Constantine even describes his brain as a tangled mess of mashed-up wires. Wires that he has to manually plug into different ports just to function on day to day basis. He can also be quite vindictive, holding grudges for a long time and displaying sadistic pleasure when inflicting pain on those who annoy him. Thankfully, annoying him is pretty hard. He doesn't concern himself too much with the opinions and emotions of other people. Because of his tremendous experience and skill, he has very little patience for the arrogant, especially those who are weak.
Despite his bravado, Constantine is not without clarity. He is woefully aware of his shortcomings. He will even go out of his way to reaffirm that he most likely is varying degrees of insane. When correctly criticized he is prone to taking the critique to his heart. He tries to improve, gaining a better grasp of what it means to be a human. Weirdly enough, he isn't a pessimist, believing that people can always save themselves as long as they are willing to put their effort into it. He dislikes people who can't think for themselves, calling them dim-witted and half-baked. He won't associate himself with those who allow others to manipulate them easily, seeing them as weak and a dead weight. Constantine places great value and emphasis on things such as bravery, loyalty, cunning, dedication, and charism. Things that transcend the quirks of materialism, these that cannot be attained through the application of physical wealth. They are concepts, therefore eternal and everlasting. Theirs is a universal value, they cannot be spent, depleted, or stolen by another; hence why Constantine respects people who display these qualities.
He is scared of being alone, of being trapped and stagnating. The idea terrifies him to no end. He has a collection of fears that deal with being trapped without enough space. Claustrophobia, small spaces, being unable to breathe and the underground and dust, of being at the center of everything and it is all pushing down. His fear of stagnation is liked with death and the afterlife. He fears not existing, or not being able to push forward past a certain point. One could say that he fears "finite potential" and instead desires to be infinite and live forever.
Thankfully he doesn't fear change, given that he was more than willing to shed his beautiful form for something much greater.
Rejecting his old body can be seen as a sign of rebirth, something beautiful and everchanging. Mortal flesh is weak, and the human soul is simply bound to it as an interface through which it can interact with the physical world. But if one could truly relieve themselves of their meaty prison, they could attain eternal life and a degree of clarity that the fickle human mind can only dream of.
Biography & Lore
Constantine was born into a relatively wealthy family, with a father who worked as a high-ranked military official and a housewife mother who took care of Constantine's education. His mother spoiled him ever so slightly since Constantine was the sole kid in the family for quite a while. Constantine's father was born in a city near the sea, he looked and behaved like a Mediterranean man, which reflected on his son in an equal amount. Constantine grew to be an outspoken, warm person who held a preference for all things social and competitive. From his youngest days, he excelled at all things physical, quite a few things mental, and pretty much everything social. Since his father was a military man, Constantine grew up in a militant household where the pecking order was sturdier than iron and well known to all inhabitants. Andronikos was the patriarch, the family's head, and the main provider. His disciplining and general interests had a heavy influence on Constantine who aspired to be just like his father; the young boy was ever so intent on copying Andronikos.
Yet....he wasn't forced into any of this. Sure, Andronikos was a stern man with unshakable beliefs, but he allowed his son a level of liberty when it came to picking interests and a life profession; as long as said interests weren't deemed too feminine or emasculating. There was nothing to worry of tho, Constantine was just as, if not more masculine than his father. He was a natural-born competitor in an environment that rewarded such aggressiveness. Most of Constantine's childhood was spent living in a military outpost, one so large that it could be confused for a small city. He'd interact with soldiers, mercenaries, and even pit fighters daily, taking a keen interest in their livelihoods. Constantine would get into fights with other children, sometimes to the point of drawing blood and making bruises, but such behavior wasn't punished, on the contrary, it was encouraged to exercise mental and physical toughness; a true spartan upbringing. Such was the nature of local society, it wasn't unusual for human settlements to come under attacks from orcish raiders, trolls, ogres, and various other "monsters". Hell, sometimes even elves, dark elves who came to collect slaves for their sickening little games. It was due to this that people had to be ferocious, exercised, tough, and ready to fight whenever need be, Constantine was no exception.
As Constantine grew into his puberty and beyond, he became quite the social butterfly, making acquaintances left and right, hosting feasts for his fellow warriors, and drinking himself into a cozy stupor. He was a natural-born leader, with charism, bravery, and good looks in spades, so his ability to attract people and make them gravitate towards him came off as no surprise. For a living, he did many things, ranging from being a prizefighter, a bodyguard, and even a soldier of fortune, to more sanctioned jobs such as leading military expeditions deep into uncharted lands. Constantine was already an accomplished traveler by the age of thirty, having seen more lands and more wonders than your average person will witness in their entire lifetime. He bore witness to things once seen as myths and legends; mighty beasts that struck fear into hearts of mortal men, plants, and creatures whose very existence defied all laws of reality, breathtaking biomes carved by the hands of gods. Among all of these, magic struck him as the strangest and most mysterious.
Constantine knew that magic existed, only a fool would deny that, but he had seen it only scarcely since people who could effectively wield it weren't so numerous in his corner of the world. He found himself truly fascinated by magic, a force that could bind and unbind the very laws of reality, harnessable et so mysterious and obscure still. The male couldn't quite explain how it bore way into his mind so easily, but whenever he was near magic, he felt it tugging at his heartstrings, sweetly whispering into his ear. Sadly he could never quite wield with the same degree of effectiveness as a real sorcerer or a mage. Constantine was relegated to minor spells and charlatan tricks, it always stung him how he excelled in other fields while magic remained one thing that he could never master, no matter how much effort he put into it.
Failure turned into jealousy, jealousy turned into spite and spite turned into desperation. This desperation gave way to darker thoughts as Constantine searched for alternative, less-than-safe ways to make up for the magical talent that he sorely lacked. We are talking about demonology, necromancy, sacrificial magic, and other sources of arcane power that are generally frowned upon by pretty much every sane person that has at least two functional brain cells. It was only a matter of time before people took notice of his strange habits. Surely, Constantine was arrogant, but his arrogance was closeted and he seldom allowed it to leak into his personal life or the life of his companions. He was an outwardly affable man, charitable and kind-hearted, people got worried for him and would send priests of various religions his way. The results were the same no matter the religion or the deity in question, Constantine would simply wave off the holy men, telling them that his life was none of their business and that he was doing just fine without spiritual help. Constantine underestimated the tenacity of those around him to the point where he pretty much ended up being hounded by various religious and spiritual sects, and even mundane citizens who wanted nothing more than to prove their status as a good samaritan.
The whole ruckus culminated with Constantine publicly declaring that gods had no hold over him and that he could do whatever he damn pleased. Well, gods didn't agree with this. How did they react? In a way that wasn't most mature or well thought out, that's for sure. Gods, being a bunch of petty cunts, decide to show Constantine just how much sway they had over his entire existence. How did they do that you ask? They started by besieging his body with a horrible illness. We are talking about "bubonic plague" levels of bad. Constantine's skin and mucosa would turn icteric yellow, he'd experience intense fevers day and night, physical fatigue, headaches, soreness, and so on. As the disease progressed, Constantine would eventually develop necrotic, puss-filled sacs in the areas around his groin, thighs, and armpits. These sacks had to be cut open and manually drained to prevent the muscles underneath from rotting away.
No, no, the gods wanted him to suffer even more. Constantine survived the initial onslaught, recovering after spending weeks in agonizing pain, but his physical abilities were greatly diminished afterward; the disease had caused him some irreversible damage during its course. Since they wanted him to suffer, the gods turned their attention to his loved ones next, his friends and family. Things started off small, with his friends getting injured or dying on the battlefield, perishing in bizarre accidents, and so on. Soon Constantine found himself without allies to rely on, without a backup. Yet those who perished in battle were the lucky ones, Constantine's parents contracted the same disease, but didn't live through to tell the tale. Even Constantine, a much younger man, with a better, healthier immune system just barely pulled through and not without consequences; a pair of sixty-year-olds barely stood a chance.
The gods were punishing Constantine for his hubris, but more importantly, his transgressions against the very laws of nature that they enforced. Sacrificial magic was considered the greatest violation of life and the gods were attuned to instantly punish those who delved into such... delicious sorcery.
Constantine's standing wasn't getting any better either, in the span of months, he managed to lose his primary source of income, having been disbanded by the military regent who acted as his employer. Due to his diminished physique, he could no longer enlist himself as hired muscle, atop of this, his home ended up burning down in a freak fire. By the end of it all he was left homeless, jobless, physically weakened, and without friends to rely on, all in a short period. Not knowing how to deal with his misfortune, Constantine turned to the gods for aid. He found a tall, remote hill to climb on, wailing to the skies as he did so. Once on the top, he pleaded for gods to show him a sign of mercy and to relieve of his suffering. Constantine asked the gods why they had abandoned him and why did they put him through so much suffering, but an answer never came, the skies remained silent, indifferent to his suffering. No matter how intensely he pleaded, swore, wailed, or writhed in anguish, the gods didn't give him a single sign that they were listening.
Constantine was thoroughly battered, on the brink of breaking and slipping into actual insanity. His whole world came crashing in less than a year and no matter how much he tried to fix the situation, nothing seemed to work. In the absence of gods, other voices came, whispering to Constantine from the very edgy of his hearing; they were barely audibly, giving only enough hints to prove that they were real and not a figment of his delusional imagination. The words become clearer the more he listened to them, it took him a bit to realize that it wasn't one voice, but a set of multiples. No multiple people tho, he was sure of that. Each voice was too synchronized with the others, speaking simultaneously without missing a beat. It was as if the individual voices overlapped to create something entirely new, while still retaining enough autonomy to be recognized as separate entities.
At first, Constantine wondered if he was finally starting to go insane, talking to himself in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, but that was not the case. Whatever spoke inside Constantine's head wasn't his internal monologue, it was a foreign consciousness penetrating the barriers of his mind to achieve contact. Being afraid was Constantine's initial reaction. The fear was soon replaced by curiosity and a faint sense of hope. Maybe someone came to save him from his miserable existence?
As he tried to reach out to the voice, a minor heart attack struck him and Constantine could feel his cardiovascular system restricting, even if only briefly. He was sweating profusely and soaked through, shivering violently, and very aware that if he did not find somewhere to take shelter from the elements, he was going to die. And not a quick, clean death from a spear or a saber. A miserable, shivering death atop of some barren hill. The male, whose boldness seemed to seep out with his every breath, did not want to die. Everyone fears death. Of course, they do. Even the most devout must have some apprehension, for however confident they are in a life everlasting with their deity of choice, the concept of eternity is one that the mortal mind recoils from. Be it bliss, torment, or the senseless void, none can imagine what it is to die, so it’s only right that all should have a healthy fear of it. There are some, though, for whom it is an enduring terror. Who cannot even consider the inevitable termination of life without the deepest panic, and can think of nothing in life that could be worse than its end. Constantine was of this cloth, and upon feeling his time drawing to a close, he began to cast about in fear.
Tring to crawl forward, he found that the illness had robbed his limbs of the strength they once had and that he could barely move forward. His mind sank in and out of consciousness, unable to comprehend whether he was still alive in the first place. Noticing that someone stood before him, Constantine paled, even more, his blurry vision lifting to see a figure standing a few meters away from him. The figure wore a moth-eaten monk’s robe, its head covered by a thick, padded hood. Soon enough it started standing up, and what little resolve remained fled from Constantine's heart. He tried to run, but he got barely two steps before he collapsed again. There was no reason to assume that the creature was death, despite its dark robes it didn't resemble the grim reaper. By lifting its hood, the figure reaffirmed Constantine's suspicions.
It...It didn't have a face. No mouth, no eyes, no ears, not even a nose. On its shoulders laid a grotesquely skinless lump of flesh loosely resembling the shape of a human head. It was bumpy, with pulsating blood vessels enveloping the whole thing like a spider's web. Adrammelech didn't know if it could see him, he hoped it couldn't. Yet his hopes were crushed almost instantly as the creature started opening its many eyes. There were a dozen of them at the very least, Constantine didn't bother counting. Lacking any distinction between the sclera, iris, or pupil. Each eye was a homogenous mass of white flesh. The eyes didn't shift, nor did they turn, but Adrammelech instinctively knew that they all pointed at him, observing patiently. His face grew paler, vision blurry from lack of oxygen, hypothermia, and exhaustion. Lingering between life and death, Constantine heard a voice in his head. It was a creature, who despite lacking a mouth, still managed to impart its messages directly into his brain through unknown means. The figure offered him salvation, an escape from certain death, for a price. Constantine asked what the price was, but it refused to answer. Thinking that he had nothing to lose, Constantine took the offer. As he did so, he could have sworn that the figure smiled. Not with its mouth, but with its eyes, which held an all-too-familiar glint of amusement. Waking up seconds after, noticing the pain in his chest was gone, he took in a lungful of air. It was cold, damp, and tinged with a faint whiff of something metallic. He stood up, still giddy and feverish, but with such joy that he nigh on collapsed from the laughter that exploded from his lips.
Constantine staggered on his feet, expecting to see the blue skies above him, but there was nothing to behold as if someone tore a hole in the world's ceiling. A pitch-black void, one that seemed to suck in the ambient light, further depriving Constantine of his senses. Behind him, the figure waited. It was only then he noticed the low, rumbling laugh that came from it. He turned to see the figure still sitting in the chair, but now its eyes were bleeding profusely. The robes of the figure were red and dripping, with patches of muscle appearing over them. Then he felt it in himself. Something was very wrong. An itching, burning deep within him, then a flash of intense pain in his arm. He grabbed it instinctively, but where he touched it, the skin and flesh beneath it came away in his hand, like chunks of wet bread. Beneath it, he could see the yellow-white of bone. His bone.
As more of his body sloughed off of him into crimson piles upon the floor, he noticed something. New flesh seemed to grow where the old one once resided. The newly formed tissue looked pale, not even pale, it was white as paper, covered in strange markings he couldn't recognize. And the male began to scream. Raising his feeble gaze, Constantine searched for the figure, but it was no longer there. In its place stood a writhing mass of flesh, blood, and eyes, not even remotely resembling a human being. The male held out a now white hand towards it in supplication: “You said that if I accepted the deal, then I’d live!” The creature didn't answer, but its circular mouth did twitch. It twitched and twisted, a maw of jagged teeth warping to create a sinister smile.
Yet....he wasn't forced into any of this. Sure, Andronikos was a stern man with unshakable beliefs, but he allowed his son a level of liberty when it came to picking interests and a life profession; as long as said interests weren't deemed too feminine or emasculating. There was nothing to worry of tho, Constantine was just as, if not more masculine than his father. He was a natural-born competitor in an environment that rewarded such aggressiveness. Most of Constantine's childhood was spent living in a military outpost, one so large that it could be confused for a small city. He'd interact with soldiers, mercenaries, and even pit fighters daily, taking a keen interest in their livelihoods. Constantine would get into fights with other children, sometimes to the point of drawing blood and making bruises, but such behavior wasn't punished, on the contrary, it was encouraged to exercise mental and physical toughness; a true spartan upbringing. Such was the nature of local society, it wasn't unusual for human settlements to come under attacks from orcish raiders, trolls, ogres, and various other "monsters". Hell, sometimes even elves, dark elves who came to collect slaves for their sickening little games. It was due to this that people had to be ferocious, exercised, tough, and ready to fight whenever need be, Constantine was no exception.
As Constantine grew into his puberty and beyond, he became quite the social butterfly, making acquaintances left and right, hosting feasts for his fellow warriors, and drinking himself into a cozy stupor. He was a natural-born leader, with charism, bravery, and good looks in spades, so his ability to attract people and make them gravitate towards him came off as no surprise. For a living, he did many things, ranging from being a prizefighter, a bodyguard, and even a soldier of fortune, to more sanctioned jobs such as leading military expeditions deep into uncharted lands. Constantine was already an accomplished traveler by the age of thirty, having seen more lands and more wonders than your average person will witness in their entire lifetime. He bore witness to things once seen as myths and legends; mighty beasts that struck fear into hearts of mortal men, plants, and creatures whose very existence defied all laws of reality, breathtaking biomes carved by the hands of gods. Among all of these, magic struck him as the strangest and most mysterious.
Constantine knew that magic existed, only a fool would deny that, but he had seen it only scarcely since people who could effectively wield it weren't so numerous in his corner of the world. He found himself truly fascinated by magic, a force that could bind and unbind the very laws of reality, harnessable et so mysterious and obscure still. The male couldn't quite explain how it bore way into his mind so easily, but whenever he was near magic, he felt it tugging at his heartstrings, sweetly whispering into his ear. Sadly he could never quite wield with the same degree of effectiveness as a real sorcerer or a mage. Constantine was relegated to minor spells and charlatan tricks, it always stung him how he excelled in other fields while magic remained one thing that he could never master, no matter how much effort he put into it.
Failure turned into jealousy, jealousy turned into spite and spite turned into desperation. This desperation gave way to darker thoughts as Constantine searched for alternative, less-than-safe ways to make up for the magical talent that he sorely lacked. We are talking about demonology, necromancy, sacrificial magic, and other sources of arcane power that are generally frowned upon by pretty much every sane person that has at least two functional brain cells. It was only a matter of time before people took notice of his strange habits. Surely, Constantine was arrogant, but his arrogance was closeted and he seldom allowed it to leak into his personal life or the life of his companions. He was an outwardly affable man, charitable and kind-hearted, people got worried for him and would send priests of various religions his way. The results were the same no matter the religion or the deity in question, Constantine would simply wave off the holy men, telling them that his life was none of their business and that he was doing just fine without spiritual help. Constantine underestimated the tenacity of those around him to the point where he pretty much ended up being hounded by various religious and spiritual sects, and even mundane citizens who wanted nothing more than to prove their status as a good samaritan.
The whole ruckus culminated with Constantine publicly declaring that gods had no hold over him and that he could do whatever he damn pleased. Well, gods didn't agree with this. How did they react? In a way that wasn't most mature or well thought out, that's for sure. Gods, being a bunch of petty cunts, decide to show Constantine just how much sway they had over his entire existence. How did they do that you ask? They started by besieging his body with a horrible illness. We are talking about "bubonic plague" levels of bad. Constantine's skin and mucosa would turn icteric yellow, he'd experience intense fevers day and night, physical fatigue, headaches, soreness, and so on. As the disease progressed, Constantine would eventually develop necrotic, puss-filled sacs in the areas around his groin, thighs, and armpits. These sacks had to be cut open and manually drained to prevent the muscles underneath from rotting away.
No, no, the gods wanted him to suffer even more. Constantine survived the initial onslaught, recovering after spending weeks in agonizing pain, but his physical abilities were greatly diminished afterward; the disease had caused him some irreversible damage during its course. Since they wanted him to suffer, the gods turned their attention to his loved ones next, his friends and family. Things started off small, with his friends getting injured or dying on the battlefield, perishing in bizarre accidents, and so on. Soon Constantine found himself without allies to rely on, without a backup. Yet those who perished in battle were the lucky ones, Constantine's parents contracted the same disease, but didn't live through to tell the tale. Even Constantine, a much younger man, with a better, healthier immune system just barely pulled through and not without consequences; a pair of sixty-year-olds barely stood a chance.
The gods were punishing Constantine for his hubris, but more importantly, his transgressions against the very laws of nature that they enforced. Sacrificial magic was considered the greatest violation of life and the gods were attuned to instantly punish those who delved into such... delicious sorcery.
Constantine's standing wasn't getting any better either, in the span of months, he managed to lose his primary source of income, having been disbanded by the military regent who acted as his employer. Due to his diminished physique, he could no longer enlist himself as hired muscle, atop of this, his home ended up burning down in a freak fire. By the end of it all he was left homeless, jobless, physically weakened, and without friends to rely on, all in a short period. Not knowing how to deal with his misfortune, Constantine turned to the gods for aid. He found a tall, remote hill to climb on, wailing to the skies as he did so. Once on the top, he pleaded for gods to show him a sign of mercy and to relieve of his suffering. Constantine asked the gods why they had abandoned him and why did they put him through so much suffering, but an answer never came, the skies remained silent, indifferent to his suffering. No matter how intensely he pleaded, swore, wailed, or writhed in anguish, the gods didn't give him a single sign that they were listening.
Constantine was thoroughly battered, on the brink of breaking and slipping into actual insanity. His whole world came crashing in less than a year and no matter how much he tried to fix the situation, nothing seemed to work. In the absence of gods, other voices came, whispering to Constantine from the very edgy of his hearing; they were barely audibly, giving only enough hints to prove that they were real and not a figment of his delusional imagination. The words become clearer the more he listened to them, it took him a bit to realize that it wasn't one voice, but a set of multiples. No multiple people tho, he was sure of that. Each voice was too synchronized with the others, speaking simultaneously without missing a beat. It was as if the individual voices overlapped to create something entirely new, while still retaining enough autonomy to be recognized as separate entities.
At first, Constantine wondered if he was finally starting to go insane, talking to himself in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, but that was not the case. Whatever spoke inside Constantine's head wasn't his internal monologue, it was a foreign consciousness penetrating the barriers of his mind to achieve contact. Being afraid was Constantine's initial reaction. The fear was soon replaced by curiosity and a faint sense of hope. Maybe someone came to save him from his miserable existence?
As he tried to reach out to the voice, a minor heart attack struck him and Constantine could feel his cardiovascular system restricting, even if only briefly. He was sweating profusely and soaked through, shivering violently, and very aware that if he did not find somewhere to take shelter from the elements, he was going to die. And not a quick, clean death from a spear or a saber. A miserable, shivering death atop of some barren hill. The male, whose boldness seemed to seep out with his every breath, did not want to die. Everyone fears death. Of course, they do. Even the most devout must have some apprehension, for however confident they are in a life everlasting with their deity of choice, the concept of eternity is one that the mortal mind recoils from. Be it bliss, torment, or the senseless void, none can imagine what it is to die, so it’s only right that all should have a healthy fear of it. There are some, though, for whom it is an enduring terror. Who cannot even consider the inevitable termination of life without the deepest panic, and can think of nothing in life that could be worse than its end. Constantine was of this cloth, and upon feeling his time drawing to a close, he began to cast about in fear.
Tring to crawl forward, he found that the illness had robbed his limbs of the strength they once had and that he could barely move forward. His mind sank in and out of consciousness, unable to comprehend whether he was still alive in the first place. Noticing that someone stood before him, Constantine paled, even more, his blurry vision lifting to see a figure standing a few meters away from him. The figure wore a moth-eaten monk’s robe, its head covered by a thick, padded hood. Soon enough it started standing up, and what little resolve remained fled from Constantine's heart. He tried to run, but he got barely two steps before he collapsed again. There was no reason to assume that the creature was death, despite its dark robes it didn't resemble the grim reaper. By lifting its hood, the figure reaffirmed Constantine's suspicions.
It...It didn't have a face. No mouth, no eyes, no ears, not even a nose. On its shoulders laid a grotesquely skinless lump of flesh loosely resembling the shape of a human head. It was bumpy, with pulsating blood vessels enveloping the whole thing like a spider's web. Adrammelech didn't know if it could see him, he hoped it couldn't. Yet his hopes were crushed almost instantly as the creature started opening its many eyes. There were a dozen of them at the very least, Constantine didn't bother counting. Lacking any distinction between the sclera, iris, or pupil. Each eye was a homogenous mass of white flesh. The eyes didn't shift, nor did they turn, but Adrammelech instinctively knew that they all pointed at him, observing patiently. His face grew paler, vision blurry from lack of oxygen, hypothermia, and exhaustion. Lingering between life and death, Constantine heard a voice in his head. It was a creature, who despite lacking a mouth, still managed to impart its messages directly into his brain through unknown means. The figure offered him salvation, an escape from certain death, for a price. Constantine asked what the price was, but it refused to answer. Thinking that he had nothing to lose, Constantine took the offer. As he did so, he could have sworn that the figure smiled. Not with its mouth, but with its eyes, which held an all-too-familiar glint of amusement. Waking up seconds after, noticing the pain in his chest was gone, he took in a lungful of air. It was cold, damp, and tinged with a faint whiff of something metallic. He stood up, still giddy and feverish, but with such joy that he nigh on collapsed from the laughter that exploded from his lips.
Constantine staggered on his feet, expecting to see the blue skies above him, but there was nothing to behold as if someone tore a hole in the world's ceiling. A pitch-black void, one that seemed to suck in the ambient light, further depriving Constantine of his senses. Behind him, the figure waited. It was only then he noticed the low, rumbling laugh that came from it. He turned to see the figure still sitting in the chair, but now its eyes were bleeding profusely. The robes of the figure were red and dripping, with patches of muscle appearing over them. Then he felt it in himself. Something was very wrong. An itching, burning deep within him, then a flash of intense pain in his arm. He grabbed it instinctively, but where he touched it, the skin and flesh beneath it came away in his hand, like chunks of wet bread. Beneath it, he could see the yellow-white of bone. His bone.
As more of his body sloughed off of him into crimson piles upon the floor, he noticed something. New flesh seemed to grow where the old one once resided. The newly formed tissue looked pale, not even pale, it was white as paper, covered in strange markings he couldn't recognize. And the male began to scream. Raising his feeble gaze, Constantine searched for the figure, but it was no longer there. In its place stood a writhing mass of flesh, blood, and eyes, not even remotely resembling a human being. The male held out a now white hand towards it in supplication: “You said that if I accepted the deal, then I’d live!” The creature didn't answer, but its circular mouth did twitch. It twitched and twisted, a maw of jagged teeth warping to create a sinister smile.
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