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[personal profile] gtfomygarden
player information.

name: Ruka
are you over 18?: yes :>
personal dw: [personal profile] blitzbrained
email/msn/aim/plurk/etc: RukaCactus @ AIM and rukafais @ tumblr
characters in abax: N/A

in character information.

series: Keys to the Kingdom
name: Sunday/Lord Sunday
age: ...millions...of years....? :T
sex: Male
race: Half-human, half-Denizen.
weight: uhhh 200 lbs i guess
height: 10 feet :|
[OPTIONAL] cause of death: Death of universe.
canon point: After the end of the series.
previous cr: nope!

history: History that directly concerns him (aka his entire book)


Sunday is prideful, for a start. It became, against his will, his defining characteristic for thousands of years; as a result, even away from the influence of the artifact that caused his change, it's a hard mindset to shake. Often carelessly arrogant and silently demeaning of others if he finds them distasteful or otherwise not to his liking, the influence of the Will has sunk itself deep into him, and as a result he finds himself harsher than he remembers being back then (and back then is something that is so hard to remember); critical, judgemental and stubborn. He is in some ways the very model of the arrogant aristocrat, turning his nose up at anything he pleases and not caring about the consequences of doing so. He prefers his own company to that of anyone else's, and is very much distant and aloof by choice. Despite this, he is a quiet man, and if he's judgemental or disdainful he doesn't tend to say anything; a look will do, if he bothers with a look at all. He's more likely to keep to himself than anything, and is quietly content with finding something more interesting to do than socialise with others. He's also quite jaded and bitter from his experiences with humanity and his siblings; he's seen both the best and worst of mortals.

However, his human side has ensured that the Will's damage isn't quite as permanent as it was for those of his siblings, and he constantly struggles with his Denizen 'programming' and his more human emotions; they are two halves that were never meant to be a whole, and it shows most in his awkward mannerisms when conversing with others overlong and his conflicted emotions towards choices that must be made and the ways people are treated. He dealt with this by pushing it away, once; now that he has to face his patchwork heritage, and the conflicting mentalities that come with it, it gives him significant difficulty. He finds solace in living and green things - gardening, specifically - and finding him at work on flowerbeds or vegetable patches reveals a much softer side, mostly untouched by the burden of sin that was placed on him long ago. He is diligent and hard-working when he wants to be, and while he isn't cheerful, he can find some quiet happiness and peace when toiling on what he loves most. Calm and rational even in situations that would rattle most mortals, he's able to act as a voice of reason in the most tumultuous of things. It helps that he is intelligent, quick and observant; he is keen-eyed and sharp-witted, and may pick up what others miss. He's adaptable if anything; if the need arises, he's surprisingly good at thinking on his feet.

Ability to shapeshift into any form as long as it does not exceed his height or weight. Heightened resistance to physical damage by ordinary weaponry, but is still able to feel pain and will bleed blue. Has an inbuilt fear of fire and other sources of extreme heat (ie, superheated steam), and will avoid it when possible; fire will burn him as if a corrosive acid was spilled on him, but doesn't do extensive damage as it would to a normal Denizen.

He has an affinity for thorny plants, and is able to make them grow stronger and wilder than they would otherwise. However, this ability only works in close proximity (they will remain resistant to being cut or otherwise mutilated physically even after he leaves, but will not grow any more. Burning them will work as normal).

He also possesses superhuman reflexes, speed and agility in his normal form.

Due to his affinity with plants and the life cycle of nature, he has an unnatural tinge about him; he may seem unsettling or otherworldly to people who are attuned to death.

first person sample:

It's rather empty here, isn't it? [ he sounds rather disdainful. He turns a rock over in gloved hands, with an idle motion. ] No animals, and with the lack of sun, not many plants, either. [ he seems to find this a little irritating. ]

But that's the way of cities, is it not? Industry. It could be said that the growth of a city is rather like that of a particularly invasive plant. The strangler fig, for instance. It grows on other trees, and takes nutrients from its host. In time, the host may die, leaving the fig with plenty of space and the hollow husk of its host tree.

[ He smiles, thinly, and crushes the rock into dust easily. His eyes are only slightly green. ]

An apt comparison, I think you'll find. Food for thought, as it were.

third person sample:
It's autumn now, and the leaves are fiery; red and orange and yellow, the hypnotising colours of flame and fire locked into a much safer alternative. He steps quietly, making hardly a noise on the brown carpet of fallen leaves, lingering in this Secondary Realm, this mortal world.

The air is fresh here, cold and clear. He lingers, circling the trees, listening to their leaves rustle. They don't speak to him - nothing so cliche - but it's a comforting hush, a sleepy silence as the sun shines golden through the leaves. Here he is no lord, no master; he simply is. Titles mean nothing to them, and it is wondrously simple. So much simpler than it is in the House, where there is so much to do.

Wondrously. It's been a long time since he's thought in those terms, in terms that are not directly correlated to the collection of specimens or the affairs of the House. Away from the piece of the Will he'd chained up, a little of its influence fades, assisted by more human things. He feels no need or urge to return to the House just yet; he can exit this place via the Stair at any time he pleases.

But for now, he lingers, breathing chilly autumn air, watching the sunlight dapple prettily on the leaves and speckle on the ground below, and is, for this brief moment, at peace.

case no: n/a
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Lord Sunday

July 2012

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