The Soulless Opportunist

prospitdreamer

Info


Created
3 years, 6 months ago
Creator
prospitdreamer
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Profile


Basics

Name Unknown
Called The Soulless Opportunist
Age 23 on arrival to London, now 31
Gender Nonbinary
Height 180cm
Build Overly thin
Profession Crooked-Cross (Schismatic)
Affiliation Hell
Ambition Light Fingers
Demeanor Dramatic, insincere, cold
Alignment Chaotic Neutral
Theme C'mon Down

Likes

  • Expensive perfumes
  • Devils
  • A good, sharp sword
  • Being feared

Dislikes

  • Social occasions
  • Petty politics
  • Seekers
  • Polite small talk

Stats

Hedonist
Ruthless
Subtle
Heartless
Steadfast
Forceful

Soulless

Wracked with grief after the departure of the Last Constable, they turned to a Quiet Deviless and Affectionate Devil both for company. They were well aware of the risks- or did they miscalculate? Either way, the Quiet Deviless left their life too- taking their soul with her.

Forgetful

After turning away from the Name, they spent quite a long time convalescing and regaining their faculties. Similarly to their eyesight, their memory was permanently scarred.

Turncoat

They're playing almost every faction in London, and haven't gotten burned... yet. There's only so much time you could spend on both sides of a conflict before one or both of the sides get to you.

About

https://picrew.me/image_maker/296093 ign: prospitdreamers

The Last Constable

One could say they loved her. They would even say so, if you had them between a rock and a hard place, glaring with blank eyes. They loved her, and they betrayed her, and theirs was the hand that had brought death to her father- they loved her, and they saved her, and they betrayed her, and she was gone. Regret is but pus in the wound after that. How natural, moreso than gravity, to be torn apart. To dispense with the purple prose, they knew well they had been in the wrong. In their home, one could still find drawers full of unsent letters of apology and yearning, a veritable treasure trove of Romantic Notions. But they would have rather died than showed them to anyone, much less sold them. And now?
Well, they've taken care of the symptoms, if not the cause. Without a soul, heartbreak fades like a light bloodstain.

Seeking The Name

They had grieved. They had gotten far. They had torn at what they were and what they had, they were so close to going NORTH, but their faculties failed them enough that they regained their senses.
They spent the next year and a half sequestered in their remote lodgings, recuperating slowly. Their mind could yet return, is still returning to what it had been. Their memory escapes them in moments. Their eyesight was never the same after, and they took to wearing spectacles.

Links

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A Bewildering Procession of Lovers, Suitors, and Paramours [ spouse(s) ]

A dizzying web of Bohemian socialites and artistes. If the soulless cannot love, what understanding do these supplicants find in the Opportunist's eyes? Whatever it is, their combined artistic and transgressory merits are legendary.

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The Peckish Newcomer [ annoyance ]

The son of some wealthy Surface businessman-turned-gentry, out in Vienna or Paris or something like that. Nevertheless, he's a decent conversationalist and has something interesting about him that draws the eye. Not that they would admit as much. As far as he is concerned, the Opportunist sees him as a pest that needs to be handled.

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Poor Edward [ husband ]

In your dreams, there is a voice, a putrid wind, a candle flame. A mask leering over your shoulder. A cramped, sodden wooden coffin with dirt pressing in. Don't look. Don't look. Instead, grin back with your own mask. You don't love each other, but you love this feeling. Mutually assured destruction.
"you are the worst person i have ever met"
"i throw my used car batteries into the ocean"
*married*

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