Aretas
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Fairest Unknown |
|---|---|
| Court | Summer Court •••• |
| Freehold | Youthful Springs, North Central FL |
| Player | Michael Day |
Contents |
Overview
Alias(es): Aretas, The Priest, The Black Prince
Real Name: Michael De Masi
Location: Freehold of the Youthful Springs; Gainesville, FL
Age: Appears to be in his forties
Seeming: Fairest
Kith: Unknown
Court: Summer
Concept: Paragon
Relevant Mechanics: Striking Looks ****
Appearance
Mask: Uncommon beauty in a common world, Standing over six feet in height and well built, the person that used to be Michael De Masi is an imposing and striking figure. Brown locks frame a face that though aged, holds a gentle structure that imbides him with a memorable beauty that is far more then skin deep. His skin has the slightest shade of Mediterranian influence, serving to soften his harsher features. Though handsome the air about him carries a silent authority, more presence then anything physical his eyes speak to the truth. Shifting seemingly with mood or design, they settle often on a subtle blue that is contrast by a deep brown that encircles his pupil. Perhaps his most striking feature, the eyes give off a warmth that reminds many of a caring individual, the warmth conveyed almost in a physical way. Regardless of dress, he seems to carry the same air wether born of beauty or something far more insidious remains a mystery.
Mein: The Black Prince stands at an exacting Six foot four inches in height. However, he may appear to the Mortal world, the affectation disappears in what he became from his time spent in Arcadia. gentle beauty gives way to the alien. His features chiseled in a terrible beauty that is undeniable. His build indicative of his strength, the gentle frailty of humanity no longer sustaining. His brown locks are short and groomed, save for the long bangs that fall to frame his face, His eyes hold a cold and calculating measure. His movements always held in perfect acumen, skin seems to almost glow with the resonance of a life held in view of the sun.
Yet perhaps the most disturbing is the shifting shadows that seem to caress his form with every movement. This paired with the nearly choking heat that seems to resonate from his presence is enough to drive any who stare to long to madness. The power held in his form, the uncommon force of presence are made surreal only by the lingering smell of Jasmine, that though light is ominous. The air about him seems to dictate an almost divine purpose and drive, while so many attribute this to his time as a priest, others find what they believe to be the truth in his shadow. For the briefest of moments whether trick of light, or the absence therein, some swear to having seen wings indicative of Angels and Demons.
Diary of a Madman
I believed it once, I remember believing it, faith was never far fleeting. I never hungered and lusted for something more. In the absence of wealth and power, I was given Faith. So strongly did I believe it, that I swore service to ensure that all could hear the glory and joy of Gods works. Armed only with the words and the promise, I was set upon the world to share the glory and joy of belief, and to bring others back from the brink of a faithless life.
Belief belies conviction yet so many seem to confuse the two. As I look back upon this time, as I look back upon My youth it is characterized by what I thought at the time was Conviction and a silent resolve, in truth the deception was complete. While Faith will bring you closer to these Virtues it does not grant them. Instead Faith is the Shield, it gives you the strength of a guide. It allows you to make a moral choice while being assured of its validity because “God’s words agree.” During this time, my faith served only to blind Me, while I could blame the impetuousness of youth it would be inaccurate to do so. No, it was the complete and utter devotion to words and ideals that blinded, deafened and left me with no true sense of self. I thundered away during Mass, speaking with the power and voice of a God I had never seen, and understood even less. Yet for those hours, I was complete. Little did I understand that the emptiness I felt when away from the words and hope was not a lack of God in my life, it was instead that I had been betrayed by my own devotion.
So many I have met, so many I have consoled all speak of the same thing, Regret. Regret that their lives were taken from them, regret that they had lost loved ones to the unending passage of time. While I understand this, while I can empathize with it I have never truly understood the morose affliction of sorrow that befalls My fellows. As I have spent a great deal of time now thinking upon My own life I question the validity that I was truly alive at all, it seems in retrospect that I was without pulse, a tool to achieve the works without ever outwardly demonstrating the very things I spoke to My congregation of celebrating. That while I rejoiced in the light of God, I was betraying it by never having lived.
Did I live? Was I alive? Was Michael De Masi ever anything more then a fabrication of the mind and soul? Their were and are times where I have doubted with equal measure the validity of my life before Arcadia, and its correlation to why I was taken in the first place. It is easy to insist that the insanity of our Keepers is to blame for the almost whimsical choices they seem to make. Assuredly most of us would like to believe in some grand design, some purpose to why we were taken. Some reflect upon their time spent as what the “Others” wanted from them and I agree that it does seem to be the sanest affectation. Yet, I dare ask the question, If the purpose defines the act, where in does it matter whom fulfills the role? This question does not make Me comfortable, and it rarely suits to add to those I’d trust. Instead you can see in My own features and theirs the truth, We don’t know.
We can believe as we will, we can justify within the capacity of our minds deluded now as they maybe, that it was simple insanity, a need and desire that we as humans can understand. The need to understand is a not a want for us, it is the compulsion, it is why I became a Priest, it is why so many spend hours awake at night. It is the fear that we are not the Masters, it is the fear that there is something else, and that we are powerless against it. In our mortal lives, the ones they took from us we railed against the very notion. We gave the forces that seemed Malevolent in our lives a name “God,” We created a system to understand creation and gave it the title “Science.” Slaves to both, that is what we were because we could not allow something undefined to hold so much sway in our lives. That was until the “Others” touched our lives, that was until they showed us that every definition, every rule of law, every natural reaction was subject to a tenuous and easily compromised fate.
What I have to come to understand of myself has its roots in the very fabric of My life from its earliest moments, I have studied it, dissected it to find any possible motive. From My time as a child, to my attending Seminary The books My Mother had me read, the schools I attended along the way, my reactions to several of life’s common incidents. From my first experience with a bully, to the first real crush I had on a girl. So many minute details, that seem to mean so little may hold the key to how and why. From there to here, I have stretched back in time as far as I can consciously and coherently remember, yet there is one memory that strikes me. It was shortly after I came to the United States, as I was presented to the Congregation for the first time by the Bishop. I remembered a face, alluring beauty beckoned My gaze. She sat in the rear pew, I remember it only as a moment of wonder and lust. Her gaze was the purest of blue that seemed so surreal I expected to wake from the moment. However, I never did and as I began my first sermon to the people before me her presence faded, instead the thundering of my own words and faith came into focus, she was lost to me.
Two years to the day, My free will had guided me from any true measure or semblance of life. My faith was paramount, but as I held it upon a pedestal and worshiped it without remorse or doubt, I had become blind to what God had wanted for his creations, blind to what I had become in the pursuit of his words. Blind in the bondage I had created for myself. When she came for m e, it was not in some pivotal moment. When she came for me, my soul yearned for it, yearning not for what I would become, as I had no evidence or warning to what she wanted and it did not matter. She was real, tangible, her flesh smooth and forgiving of my imposed prison of Faith. Her presence was wrought with intoxication and as I took of her, as I made love to her, the bonds of condemnation fled with alacrity from my soul. She was the center of my desires, my dreams. She was all that I could want or need, in that moment God and his works faded from my conscious and became only the nagging voice of a stern mother scolding her son for amoral desires. The sin was sweet, but cruelty waited silently at the end of passion. As years of frustration, guilt and bitterness evaporated in a single moment of weakness she asked of Me only a simple question:
“Do you accept Me?”
In my haste to respond, Reason failed Me. In that moment I’d have given anything to remain entwined with her, the very scent of her, the gentle caress of her hands and lips. The feeling of her hair as it laid strewn about my chest. The lack of judgement, the feeling of acceptance even in weakness.
“Yes”
A small smile thinned her lips as she gently kissed me, her body arching in ecstacy, the need in her eyes, as she focused on mine. There was nothing more said, and as the dawn threatened the Darkness of the Night she offered another small smile and took my hand in hers. She studied it for a moment, the intimacy of it still plagues and as the gentleness of her nails receded into talons, and the wavy mane of red that was her hair turned into the pristine glint of Silver, and her beauty was revealed in its alien aspect I knew I had failed. She said nothing, instead kissed Me only once more and then laid a finger upon my lips. Their was nothing I could do, I felt overwhelmed by her sheer presence. I could not flee, I could not fight. I accepted this fate, paralyzed by the moment. Everything I had known screamed to me, my features felt heated and flushed. God had witnessed My throwing of his words to the wind, He had witnessed Me giving away His love to the Vicissitudes of a fate unknown. Their was no hiding it from his all knowing and all seeing eye. The guilt and fear washed over me, and as they did my entire life played out before Me. I felt lost, but she knew, she knew where to go. She knew as she rose to her feet and moved to the door of the room. She knew as she guided Me from the bed to her side, She knew as she opened the door and we stepped through.
The thorns tore at me, languished and dismal she carried me with a strength that seemed out of place for her frame. Their was no concern for well being as my flesh was opened by them, no remorse for the blood that spilled and left a trail behind us. What was real was not definable any longer, as the environment changed as each thorn took its share, I turned my eyes to look behind us, I could see the lights distantly fading. The thorns took more, more blood spilled upon the ground and somewhere I could hear the roar of Hunger, tattered remains of My mind relegated as a function of protection, came forth. I felt the roar of faith flicker as a burning candle choked of the oxygen that gave it life. The brief respite, the briefest strength lent me only enough will to utter words that no longer mattered.
“Forgive me, my sin.”
Bled and Broken
Allies
Clara - A gentle Oracle who has guided him during his Summer reigns. The two, who seem unlikely to get along given the difference in demeanor, somehow seem to have forged some semblance of friendship.
Nathaniel Fellows- His understanding and willingness to contemplate things beyond his experience has led us to understanding beyond ourselves. I count him among the rare people I can trust to be true to his word and ideal.
Rigger- A person of unique quality, and rare kindness to his fellows. He aided me at a time that was pivotal, and though I have repayed that kindness he remains always in my thoughts.
Rowan- The mysteries of strength and kindness, vigilance and honor. The Lady Rowan, has proven steadfast even in perhaps the deadliest trade any of us can fathom. More then that she has been successful at it. She has my gratitude, and my friendship for as long as it pleases.
Enemies
Vestigere- "No greater pleasure then to see the predator become the prey, I merely wonder how much longer he will remain such. A long bloody history is his, he sought to have me at the end of his blades in the past. I pray that he will never find himself at the end of mine."
OOC- While I am much more selective to who I am willing to ally myself with, I have no objection to any number of enemies. So please if you would like an enemy, or would like to be this characters Enemy by all means send me an Email detailing what your looking for.
Character Inspirations
The Prophecy
Gladiator
Juno Reactor "Angels and Men"
V for Vendetta
Troy
300
Suggestions made by those near and dear to my Heart.
Soundtrack
Disturbed-Overburdened
Flyleaf-Broken Wings
Juno Reactor- Angels and Men
Three Days Grace- It's Never to Late
Audioslave-Out of Exile
Egypt Central- Over and Under
God Smack- Hollow
Skillet- Invincible
Slipknot- Before I forget
Tool- Eulogy
Within Temptation- What have you done
Breaking Benjamin- Breath
Chevelle- I get it
Quotes
"Wisdom and temperance, not normally associated with the Court of Summer. I expect great things from this leader." ~ Nathaniel Fellows
"I can respect someone who will travel far outside their normal routine to understand the duties and hardships in the life of a near stranger. He is an honorable man with good intentions, and I am proud to have him as part of my Family." ~ Mother Rowan
"A man with honor and wisdom untattered by the ravages of Arcadia, a forceful personality and a dedicated heart. We'd make a great team if we ever agreed on anything." ~ Aaron
"Bet he savored that, seeing me on the run. Got my name back from the nothing, knew that there were more than just one or two that would hate my return to Earth. A timely lesson he probably regrets imparting. I learn quickly. Be careful what you teach me." ~ Vestigere the Usurper
"Souls of those who lead must be blacked by the smut and sins of those they serve. Heavy hands and fair hearts... We are all products of our stations, may all his rules be prosperous." ~ Clara the Oracle
"As the Crown passes from him to me with the ritual changing of the Seasons, there is a flash of blinding clarity inherent in that briefest moment. In that instant, I see him wreathed in burning flames, winding around him like a flaring serpent and shearing away the darkness all around...even mine. Glaring white wings span wide from his shoulders, and the heat of Summer still warms the crown itself as he settles it gently on my head. He's never told me what he sees in me during that intimate time. I am patient in waiting for the right moment to ask." ~ Zoe Edwards, Autumn Queen of the Youthful Springs
"One should be wary of a fire made of shadow. When it envelopes you, you are made to see things both terrible and resplendent, visions that do away with truth and lie, that burn away hope and cloud despair. I have seen these things, and they will be different for you. To think we could have been friends." ~ David Webber
"A Unicorn you say?" ~ David Webber
Rumors
Their are rumors that Aretas has ties to the Duchy of the Icebound Heart. While thus far usubstantiated, there are those that wonder why the rumor seems to persist.
Faint whisperings circulate that Aretas has recieved several coded messeges from outside his freehold. While none can be sure of the exact nature of these missives or what they could mean, it is speculated that he is involved in something far darker then the matters of his own Court.
Aretas may have actually killed and drank the blood of a unicorn to become a Fairest.
He is not truly a changeling but a beautiful re-creation of a perfected corpse with unholy life breathed into it. He was lost in the Hedge wandering for so long that he believes himself to be a changeling but possesses an array of powers far different. He answers to the term "Galateid".
