Blood Borne, Vandal King is not on Earth. The Blood Borne is the last surviving member of an ancient race of demons with infinite capabilities over blood bending. He is one of the lesser known nobles of Grimm and one who aspires to control the world one day. As the only remaining descendent of his species, the blood of millions of his race before him courses through his veins. This blood grants him incalculable powers.
Powers & Abilities
One of the many and the simplest is the race's ability to manipulate the blood. This can be used to materialize pure blood appendages from the user's body, make weapons out of blood and directly control the blood held within the bodies of their victims. Vandal King's manipulation of the blood is so strong that he can take control over the flowing blood of millions of people and kill them instantly.
The Amalgamation of millions of his race's ancestors gives Vandal King a heightened capability over the mind. His consciousness realistically cannot be contained within his being, which leads it to subconsciously pervade out and infect the mind of those around him. While Vandal King may appear comatose or unresponsive, his will is already being fulfilled through his puppets.
Vandal King's powerful consciousness allows him to peer into the cosmos. He's aware of many things, the limit of this ability can't even be fathomed by him himself. Somewhere deep in his mind, Vandal King is aware of other versions of himself that exists across many parallel realities but has no way to confirm his hypothesis.
Vandal King is incapable of dying. His physical manifestation could be slain or vanquished, he just rebirths from blood somewhere else. As long as his mind's pervades and holds control over blood, Vandal King cannot be killed.
In a planet much like our own, there existed a continent that wasn't broken like it is on Earth, call it a Pangea, if you will. Five major powers dominated this landscape, with the Kingdom of Loki being one of them.
A disgruntled youth came walking down the hallway towards a burly looking old man. The youth possessed gold flowy hair and a pale complexion. He was exceptionally beautiful. "You are to join the front immediately, King!"
The boy nodded, "Yes sir," before walking past him towards the garrison. He didn't even get a good night's sleep and he was admittedly pissed off. The boy's name is Vandal King, named after his father the Shaman King. Yeah, odd name, his father used to be the Court Magician before he disappeared mysteriously, leaving behind his wife and son. Vandal detested the man and wanted nothing more than to just remove him from his life, a prospect his mother forbade him from doing. And so he was stuck with the last name that stung whenever people called him.
Since both of Vandal's parents were either wizards or sorcerers, he was born with an affinity for such, but Vandal King had no real interest in mystic arts. He only knew some basic enchantments that allowed him to move and act beyond the capabilities of a normal human being. This proved to be rather useful in granting him top tier ranks in a mortal army. Guess that's the one thing that Vandal King was grateful to have inherited from his father. He wielded a sword of the Shaman King that grew stronger with every foe Vandal King slew.
Just an intro for pre- Demon / Pre-Demon King Vandal.
What are humans? What is humanity? Why do they bother with trivialities? Vandal wondered sitting on his high throne, looking down at his twelve generals now in a prostrating state below the steps of his throne. Every single of them donned glittering armor or long flowing robes, each either grotesque in appearance with horns or spikes growing out of their body, or simply in the appearance of a beautiful human being, and each of them exuded aura's of power and majesty that could dominate entire worlds with just a flick of their wrists. Such figures were nothing more than ants that could only serve Vandal King with all their being.
And then there was a curious half-breed, with an interesting ability Vandal King happened to want. Part demon part nothing, Vandal tried to understand what made her want to stay with them, those people who often fought each other over immaterial possessions. Vandal never understood despite having lived with them for a time what made them click. Words held more power than might. Paper ruled supreme. What was this? Their entire lives were fraught with hilarious aspects and they only seemed to live in order to one day die and be reduced to nothing, maggots crawling out of their skulls, which might become home for an earth-worm a snake or a family of mice who wasn't going to be aware that their home was once a glorious king of a glorious nation. In the end, mankind was destined for dust. Why then did she choose to live with them?
On the other hand was someone, a woman who called herself a Shogun. She was the leader of a tiny patch of land, and she was maintaining something called a marriage with him. What is this thing called marriage? A contract between two people that allowed them to perform acts of bonding with ease and freedom? She seems to think it would help her nation to do this with him, to maintain peace, he supposed? But again, she was funny, entertaining and served as someone who listened to him when he needed her to. And then there was Kaija...her power was nothing compared to his, but the demon king never lacked for power. Her value came from her gifts. Strength was easy to come by. She makes it his worthwhile with her actions and who she represented.
Vandal King is the creator, ruler and the utmost authority in Brimstone Dimension. His position does not exist to rule over the Dimensions many planets and its Kingdoms, no, he simply lives to rule over it all. Kings, Queens and the like could be overthrown with a single word if he so chooses.
God Queen of Brimstone Dimension
Honorary title belonging to @apex_ as the lawfully wedded wife of Vandal King holds a position similar to Vandal King himself.
Directly below Vandal are his chosen 12 Generals, the strongest of the myriad of races that lives in Brimstone Dimension. They are are the masters of the armies of Vandal King, who control legions of demons under their might. They have the authority to assume control of entire worlds or World Gods and control its legions if they wanted.
Each World has an assigned World God, an Immortal personally selected by Vandal King, whose main task is to oversee the world and its functions.
Kings / Queens / Lords of Nations / Kingdoms
These ranks are often chosen among the people of Brimstone Dimension, either through contests of strength or election, whichever preferable, it just depends on the customs of local demon tribes.
These are as the name suggests, families with decades of Royal blood running through them, whose selective breeding makes the descendants stronger than most other demons. Often times, the lords and kings of tribes are descendants of Noble Families.
These are the various species of demons that inhabit Brimstone Dimension. They are its "people".
Slaves are the lowest of the Brimstone Dimension hierarchy. They are often times taken from conquered worlds or stolen from native worlds and forced to serve under demons or used in blood sports for the amusement of Noble Families.
The avatar of Vandal King is void of a physical body and is entirely made of his ethereal spirit that is neither detectable by any means nor harmed under any conventional sense. The spirit itself is the membrane of Brimstone Dimension itself, with the dimension being the very core of Vandal Kings mighty spirit, and as such, while the spirit may not possess any physical body, it comes with all the capabilities of Vandal King as that is the true source of all his abilities.
Upon discarding his body, Vandal King escapes the predicament of being a demon. Despite his core (the Brimstone Dimension) being made entirely of the energy of the 9 Demonic Avatars, the Holy Ghost doesn't carry any demonic essence with it. The Holy Ghost is Vandal's true God Nature as the son of Shaman King. All the powers of the 9 demon lords filter through the core, through the membranes of his spirit, purify the energy into god chi before being allowed outside. Thus, what anyone is able to sense is not demonic, but the extreme pure nature that belongs to a God.
Holy Ghost is formless, capable of taking the form of anything, his reaches are indefinite, his will surplus. The filters enable his demonic psyche to transform into a mass of willpower capable of affecting all beings in general. The Holy Ghost thus appeals to the hearts and minds of others through strands of his own will, will deprived of hints of malice. The Holy Ghost rides on the concept of thinking.
As an extension of Vandal King, the Holy Ghost is capable of much of the same thing as Vandal King himself, which includes his ability to warp reality. The ability is more profound as the Holy Ghost as where his will touches, the reality is up for grabs, as Vandal King within a mortal body rarely sends his will out to cover the world, which as the Holy Ghost, his will is nigh omnipresent across the world.
The Avatar of Vandal King can be anywhere that isn't privy to his will, and be everywhere at once. (lowkey constricted to the planet Earth only and when within the Brimstone Dimension, the entirety of it rests within his consciousness.
Commune / Possession:
The Avatar of Vandal King chooses a handful of followers to spread his message of freedom and peace. These 'Prophets' or 'Messengers' often display the power to bend reality and create 'Miracles'. Vandal uses them to spread his message among the masses.
For all the demons and devils in hiding among men, the story of tonight was one that brought smiles on to their faces. Salvation was at hand. He was their father, their protector and their savior. When he sang, they couldn't help but be comforted by his grace. He soared above the Shogunate of Venezuela, an illustrious star studded phoenix, its feathers fluttering in the winds, its reaches, growing out and beyond, covering the entirety of Earth in its embrace. This was Vandal King, in one of his rarer moments when he forbade the binds of a mortal frame. He was a god. Such a thing as a relate-able body by mortality was something that essentially did not exist. Sow why restrict himself? Azure light flooded the skies across the world. Advent of a deity and a powerful one at that, fueled by the energies of the demon lords, which at this point however were thoroughly masked by the lack of demon nature of Vandal King's physical manifestation.
Discarding it was still a relief, a relief from the anger of a demon, and returning to the pure intent of a god was relieving. His massive psyche flowed into the hearts of mortals, for tonight, he was going to tell a story. A story of freedom from the redundancy of the world. He spoke into the heart of that child being punished by his mother, his only crime was skipping class and going out to play with his friends on the streets. Strands of his will entered the heart of the adolescent man who took drugs for the first time in his life, appealing to the poor condition which lead him down such a path. He was assured of safety, of a brighter future ahead, one that would free him. And his intent flowed into the heart of the Alcoholic who beat his woman under the influence. Raise your hand, take up a glass, drink to your hearts content. No one can take away your freedom of choice.
The story of freedom was sung in serenity, under the canvas of a starry sky, glittering with an abandon of stars. Time of Salvation is coming soon. Freedom is nigh. Such were the sayings that danced within the hearts. A devil's thoughts touched all but the followers of Methodius. The time was nigh, and the demons in guise rejoiced. Their master, whose brace was their savior, protector and the one figure who they owed their entire life worth generations upon generations was finally telling them. Their faces, sleeping, waking up, working in their jobs, blended in with the rest of mankind all lit up in anticipation. Vandal King caressed their egos, promised them a fruitful future.
His will would touch Uma sleeping in peace. He eyed the boy next to her, the boy who did not belong, the key to her heart. He carried the spark of a demon, a nature the demon could possess. He smelled the tainted core, the nature which could be curbed. His thought flooded, and then, the phoenix shrunk, dying back into his mortal body that he had discarded for a moment.
tl;dr An alter-ego for Vandal King is soon to come.
In the middle of nowhere under the blazing heat of a sun that seemed to be frozen in space, 2 men walked. They wore brown colored tactical vests and helmets, safety shoes and were heavily armed from rifles, magazines, army knives, grenades and other tactical gadgets. They each carried backpacks with possibly more tools and appliances needed for a war.
"Check your GPS. Any headings?" The man in the front asked the one behind him.
The man behind looked down at the smartphone he had in hand. No signal, and the battery was at 66%. "No signal.." He said, letting a sigh of annoyance.
3 days ago, these 2 men were patrolling the area around their base in Nevada, when they suddenly found themselves transported into this ... desert where there was nothing to be seen for miles around. There was no radio contact or signal, and unable to make contact, they were stuck in this strange place. Seeking to find an end to the desert they started walking. They found cactus growing in abundance in areas across this desert terrain and lizard like things found crawling within the sands were hunted for food. Its been three days though and no end to this desert was to be seen. They did observe somethings though. Days here lasted exactly around 15 hrs, and the other 15 hrs was for the night.
The 2 men expected attacks from monsters or some kind of creatures of the night, but there was nothing, but they couldn't relax either way. They always felt the gazes of things bee lining across their sight, sometimes moving in the corner of their eyes or sometimes, they would turn around and find eyes in the dark, but upon closer inspection find nothing there. In this situation, the men were placed on constant edge. They feared someone or something will eventually come and get them but of course nothing got them. Rifles were cleaned, ammo on the ready, constantly vigilant, the 2 men had someone spent three days and nights, sleeping in shifts.
On this day, they have already walked for seven hours, and was coming up on the eighth hour, they stopped to rest for a bit. One of them suddenly raised his rifle aiming i tat his right, he thought he'd seen something move in the sands, a shadow like creature with spikes, and he swore he heard sounds of movement. He got up and went there to check it out. "WHOEVER YOU ARE COME OUT AND FACE US LIKE MEN~ DON'T HIDE LIKE COWARDS!" Sweat dripped down from his forehead, and his clothes were already beyond sweaty and smelly at that. These weren't conditions where one wore heavy armor vests, especially given that there were no places to hide from the sun, but the men persevered. They were trained to face harsh environments, but more so they were trained to combat live threats.
But all the desert gave them thus far had been food and water, and hallucinations of things that weren't there. After a bit of rest, the two men resumed their journey. A few minutes into the walk they spotted what appeared to be a forest, an end to their ridiculous journey riddled with strange nonexistent things. The two men raced towards the forest, and started trekking their way through, expecting to find civilization beyond. However, the forest was even more creepy. Every tree, every shadow they cast appeared like eyes gazing upon them. Bullets were fire trees checked out, but each time was just as the last. There was nothing there, nothing at all.
A week later:
"Are you doing this to prank me?!" One of the two men snapped, the forest, it appeared endless with nothing beyond. The forest continued to prank them with things that were not there. If only they could find what they were looking for but these things moved two fast for either of them to even make anything out. All this time they were just relying on their mind to guess at what it could be, and the stress was finally starting to break them. One of them attacked the other with a knife, because by the now they had exhausted all the ammo they had brought with them.
The second man fought back, holding nothing back. It was a question of who was more skilled, and they fought for around an hour in a forest that seemed to be enjoying the show they were getting. Not a sound could be heard for miles but the grunts, sighs and shouts of the two of them. There were no monsters, there weren't any strange magical beasts, at least not where the two of them were. Finally after a seemingly endless struggle, one of them managed to drive his knife into the throat of the other man. "Haha... I won! Now let me out of this hellish nightmare!"
Something moved. The man turned, expecting to finally see who it was thats been torturing him, but ... nothing. A shadow crept from the corner of his eyes, he jolted, turned around to see ... nothing. Something moved in the trees above, he looked up only to find... nothing! Nothing.. nothing ... nothing! There was absolutely nothing to be found! "Damnit!" With nothing but the corpse of his breatheren lying on the ground, he let out all his frustrations on the dead guy, stabbing him repeatedly, blood gushed out, painting him red and gave him a devilish look. His eyes blood red looked around, mad with rage, he no longer turned when something moved. The grip on his blade tightened, he gritted his teeth, and he simply ran off deeper into the forest, hacking and slashing at trees, and then all of a sudden, he found light. He'd been teleported back to where he was, in Nevada.
He was not the same man he was though. He changed with monstrous eyes red as blood and seeking to kill anyone and anything that moved, the authorities had no choice but to sedate and take him to a mental asylum. They were simply baffled. Two of their scouts disappeared and turned up 2 weeks later one of them did not return and the one who did return had turned into a savage beast, unable to be reasoned with. The blood on his hand the weapon he carried though pretty much told them what happened but they couldn't explain what drove him to that point or what horrors they had faced.
Somewhere in Venezuela
Vandal King sat alone in a room belonging to the Shogun, he was now the soon to be King of Venezuela of course he had the right to be in this room. His mind though was on a soldier in Nevada. Two of them were transported to Brimstone Dimension and made to live the mysticism of the world. There were no monsters they would face and they eventually killed the other while the man was driven to madness. A fun little game he played with the lives of two young and upstart soldiers in the military. Such a shame they were not strong enough of mind to face the horrors he presented. A smirk appeared across his face as the cries of the survivor rung in his ears, transmitted straight from the mental Asylum, "They are there! They are coming for me! Let me go! I will not let them kill me!!"
On this day, Vandal sat in his apartment in France. The Brimstone Dimension held in his hand, he was looking at the TV. It played a scene in The Cabin the Woods. The Witch had managed to pacify Kaija. At least, temporarily. He laughed to himself. “Isn’t she interesting?” He asked one of his maids, Sylvia, who had been standing behind the Sofa, awaiting orders.
Since the last encounter with Landon, Sylvia had since been promoted in position and power in the eyes of Vandal. Although still a maid, she was no longer required to work, but merely had to exist to follow his every command as he makes them. If he wanted someone dead, Silvia had to make sure they were dead.
“Yes master. She is indeed.” Although Sylvia despised Vandal’s attraction to the people of this tiny world, she dare not talk back to him. This was the Sovereign of Brimstone Dimension, The Demon God, who had fathered everything there existed. She knew it was the lives of billions of her kind the Demon God held within his hand so casually, as though it were a mere trinket. She couldn’t begin to imagine how much power this being held within the palms of his hand, she could only bow down to him in reverence.
Of course, Vandal knew exactly what his little sword maiden was thinking in her head. Vandal didn’t particularly mind however. His energy and his presence specified animosity down from its very core. The demons he housed in his Brimstone Dimension as well as Kaija herself, couldn’t bring themselves to harm one another. Even Vandal himself was not immune to this charm. Vandal had speculated that this was a rather funny side effect of the 7 demon lords that powered him.
Vandal watched, studying the Cabin in the Woods, as it played tricks on Kaija, or perhaps it was not the cabin, but Kaija herself. Vandal was indeed studying, He was studying the methods employed by the witch named Alison. She managed to lure Kaija to her trap, by using her boyfriend Ali Outsider. What an ingenious trap it was. Kaija was not bound by chains, nor the workings of an enclosed cell. However, she was nonetheless bound via a formless cage, its remote control apparently in the hands of the witch.
What intrigued Vandal the most though, was how the witch had managed to turn his harmless niece, Uma Sayalami into the monster that became, using nothing but a Centipede. She was skilled in the art of chaos, and the creations of her own twisted mind. These were of course lessons the Demon God could learn from. Vandal King watched intently. He learned a key weakness of Kaija. And it pleased him.
“This boy from that dimension is the key to getting Uma to join us Sylvia,” Vandal said, a smirk spreading across his face. Ideas were already blowing lightbulbs in his mind. He must find a way to use that boy to draw Uma to him. And she must not know Vandal had anything to do with any mishaps that happened to the boy. “I think, I want to talk to this witch one of these days,” Vandal confessed to himself.
The witch had already gone and antagonized Kaija and her boyfriend. If the boy falls to her hands, no one would suspect a thing on him. Vandal made up his mind. He was going to ask Tophat, and come up with a plan if she agreed to assist him. Even if she did not, the plan was still good enough, if he could find someone that could execute it flawlessly.
Vandal King was a man of supreme nature. Knowledge was key to power, and power was something he possessed. He opened Brimstone Dimension upon humans since times immemorial. His hands approached absolute power. His demonic spies decorated such and such instances of the world. They told him things, kept him informed.
Some, most or all of these spies were not exempt from being found out, but Vandal had replacements. His connections ran deep. His mind reached unfathomable heights. A demon seed of a child born to a grand family once became the jester of a court. He was praised for his brilliant ploys. Behind closed doors, he bowed to a different master, someone who had readily accepted him.
@kaija:was the seed Vandal had yet to acquire, a seed nonetheless. Even if one failed, there were countless more who served everywhere for Vandal. His hold, was something that couldn't be broken. It defied geography, race, ethnicity and religion itself. He was thus almighty.
(OOC: Informative / Concept I guess. Why Vandal sometimes appear to know what he does --- in a way also setting up for a future RP)