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 Undertaker

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Pamela Alucard

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Posts : 76
Join date : 2011-07-01
Age : 26
Location : Anywhere

PostSubject: Undertaker   Sat Jul 02, 2011 7:31 pm

(I wish to play A Black Butler Character as well)

Name: Undertaker
Title: Legendary Grim Reaper, The Undertaker
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Weapon(s): Legendary Grim Reaper Scythe. It's White huge curved blade at the end. A skull across from the Blade at the end of Scythe.
Abilities: Death Bookmark, Life Before Your eyes (Like a movie of your life), Able to kill Angels and Demons with Scythe, Sealings.
Likes: Jokes, Dead Things, Pamela (Like pairing much)
Dislikes: Queen Elizabeth, Angels, Grell (Due from beating)
Weaknesses: Can be killed by Demons, Vampires and Angels though none ever got a hit on him. (He did become a Legend after all)
Description of your Character: Undertaker has long grey hair with a few braids throughout, which is worn so as to hide his eyes. His eyes are apparently quite nice. He has a noticeable scar across his face, neck, and left pinky finger, although how he acquired them is unknown, and has long, black fingernails. He wears all black, including an incredibly long, black top hat, and he wears a long, grey scarf across his chest, with it knotted by his hips.
Pictures:
(Younger Undertaker)

(Present Undertaker)

History: As a Shinigami, he wore square, silver-framed glasses, and a black suit including a black trenchcoat. His death scythe looks similar to the stereotypical Grim Reaper's scythe, is silver, with a skull connecting the blade to the handle, which is wrapped in silver wires, like the bottom of the handle. As a Shinigami, he did not have the scars across his neck and face, but still had his ear piercings. Presently, due to his status as a legendary Shinigami, he is still allowed in the Shinigami Library, but he frequently forgets to return Cinematic Records he borrows. It is mentioned that he can also use a Death Bookmark.

Rp Sample:
Dead bodies don't take care of themselves. They can't do anything for themselves; they're helpless. The poor decaying bodies, who will take care of them? They have nowhere to go besides six feet under, but how will they get there?

Everyone has a use for himself in this world. Some people spend money on lavish parties and bask in riches, others do the dirty work. I am the latter, though I do not care to call my work "dirty". I make the dead beautiful, give them life again before they are sealed into their new wooden homes. It is rewarding work, and interesting to boot. I find nothing to be more intriguing than having a body sent in and discovering how they died and the secrets of their life they might not have even known themselves.

You can read a person's entire life from their corpse, did you know that? I can tell if they were rich and mugged in an alley by an underpaid harlot, or a humble wife who died in childbirth. They all come to me and tell me their stories. And I listen to them, hearing their last words before they are sealed away completely.

The dead tell the most interesting tales. I've rarely been disappointed in a corpse—unless, of course, the cause of death is a boring old heart attack or other organ failure. You can learn a lot from corpses, and they never cease to amaze me. I have never felt so fascinated by something other than the dead.

That is, I had never seen something more fascinating until that boy showed up.

It was evening in smoggy London. The rain was drizzling down outside and streaming down the darkened windows of the rickety shop. A haphazard sign was propped up above the door reading "UNDERTAKER" in large, spindly lettering. The street was quiet, save for a few rats and stray dogs. An emaciated mutt sniffed around the street, looking for some food. It timidly followed its nose past the door to the shop, but quickly leaped back and scampered off as a sudden CRASH echoed through the door.

"Clumsy girl! Watch where you're going!" a tall, grey haired man rushed out of the back room of the shop as soon as he heard the noise. His top hat was ripped and worn so badly strips of cloth were hanging down by his long hair and bangs that hid his eyes. The rest of his attire was not faring much better.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, sir!" the young girl apologized, falling to her knees and trying to scrape up the shards of broken glass that had been a jar just moments ago. "I-I was gettin' the a-arsenic like ya t-told me ta a-an'—"

"And you broke it!" the Undertaker reprimanded, "Now I have to go though all the trouble of getting more. Do you have any idea how much arsenic costs?"

The girl grabbed at the glass in a panic, ignoring the sting in her knees as the shards still on the floor bit into them. "I-it won' happen again, sir!"

"I'm sure it won't," the Undertaker said, walking up to stand behind him, "Still, arsenic is very expensive."

"I'm s-sorry, I—"

The Undertaker lifted the girl up onto her feet, turning her so that she was facing him. "Maybe you can pay me back right now."

The girl shook her head, staring at her black shoes. "I don' have any money, sir."

The Undertaker lifted the girl's chin so that she was gazing right into those beautiful blue lamps he had. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he grinned, bending down to eye level with the girl and leaning into her.

The girl tore her gaze away and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. "No please, sir! I'll do anythin' but that!"

The Undertaker chuckled and stood up straight again. "I'm joking," he said, running a finger from the girl's eye down her cheek and tracing the jaw line, "There're much prettier girls than you I can find in the brothel down the street."

The girl shut her eyes tight and appeared to shrink back even more. The Undertaker chuckled again and kissed her on the forehead before returning to the back room. "Get back to work, Pamela."

"Yes, sir."

(Btw I'll have two Different Accounts for both Undertaker and Pamela it's makes more sense)
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Jinxx The Mystic
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Age : 24
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PostSubject: Re: Undertaker   Sat Jul 02, 2011 10:14 pm

accepted and nice Very Happy
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