Full Name: Dominic Bercator Race: Other (Cursed Human)
Dominic was not born an Other. Nor did he become an Other through the application of Belief. Instead, his ability, or talent, or whatever you might call it, is the result of a curse. Dominic is a Medium: he can see dead people, he hears voices. He can talk with them, interact with them, or hold the hand of a ghost should he wish it. He can commune with the dead, with demons, with angels, detect possession, and provide a channel for ghosts who need to borrow a body. Well, he could do all those things if he knew what in the world was going on. He’s struggled with it for three and a half years now, but due to station and his mother’s traditions of hating Others, keeps it hidden. As such he has zero control, occasionally goes off into mental space, and every so often answers questions that only he can hear.
There are many people that would describe Lennox Bercator as an extremely fortunate man. With five children all surviving to maturity, he has two daughters, an heir and a spare - and another spare. Not only that, he has now had the good fortune to inherit his brother’s holdings in the capital city of Tyrol. Most fortunate, Mr. Bercator, to have so glorious a destiny. However, not everybody was as pleased as Lennox was
( ... )
Despite that, Dominic remained his mother’s favourite, and strove to please her as much as any son in his situation would. He was also extremely close to Hollis, who stepped in when the games became too rough for him to handle, knew when the limits of his patience and strength had been sapped, knew before he did when it was time to leave and let Lennox play father to the children he needed as opposed to the children he had
( ... )
Dominic, as he so often did, remained perfectly still and quiet while he gathered his thoughts and put them in order. The faggots and straw had not been piled so high as he had heard, and they left the victim’s face free. It was a woman - no, a girl, really, a girl with eyes as pale and green as a cat’s. It was no wonder she had been deemed guilty, but Dominic fiercely disagreed with the method used to punish her. In Aix Mazarine there walked people of all natures, a melting pot of society that got along by default. This sort of persecution was incredibly wrong on every level. For the first time in his life, Dominic directly disagreed with his mother. No God who supported this kind of event could be considered benevolent or worthy of following
( ... )
He became interested in people; in other hormonal people, to be precise, and although he knew he was supposed to be looking only at the brimming bosoms and cat-slap hips swishing around the castle, his eyes wandered every which way, from the bulk of tensed muscle to the rough stubble on chins he had, hither to, never noticed. Confusion reigned supreme, and it was with some relief that he realised, on his fifteenth birthday, that Lude had procured him a delightful young whore by which to settle the argument once and for all. It didn’t settle anything, truth be told, but it certainly helped.
It was almost immediately after that the voices started. Wherever he went, whether it was in the depths of the Castle or in out in remote areas of the cliffs, they followed him, whispering for attention, begging for him to talk to them, threatening him that if he didn’t, they’d hurt him, they’d throw him off the cliff - just like they had been. They were dead, Dominic realised. He was imagining that he was talking to dead people. Had that whore
( ... )
Dominic, too, received a promotion. With Lude otherwise occupied, he would be expected to fill his brother’s shoes and join either the military or the church. Neither were a particularly appealing prospect, but of the two, it was no surprise at all that he selected to join the Church. The idea of joining the Golden Hour was very appealing, but to do so would come too close to admitting what he was. His mother would be ever so disappointed with him if he made that decision, and so for various reasons, he chose to apply to join Cita and His Followers at the Citadel. Such a decision would further the family’s status within the capital city, and served to please both parents. To his siblings it was more of a surprise, for Dominic had never borne any open love for the religion, and in fact loathed it, but what better place to orchestrate change than from within the very bowels of the monster
( ... )
Appearance:At an extremely slender six feet and three inches, Dominic Bercator gives the impression of a feather about to blow away in the first strong breeze. His build is more akin to his sisters’ than matching his stronger brothers. Like every other Bercator, his razor-cut hair is blonde, his skin fair, although his eyes are a rather startlingly pale green which can accidentally give him a cold appearance. He tans only lightly, and in the centre of his breastbone he evidences a scar that looks faintly as though he were at one time stabbed. He dresses carefully, insists on knowing theme and formality for each event he attends, and pays attention to his appearance at all times. He is excessively clean, demands a bath at least once if not twice a day, and abhors any form of dirt. Again, this does not stop him engaging in tomfoolery with his more boyish brethren, but you can
( ... )
CHARACTER INFORMATION:
Full Name: Dominic Bercator
Race: Other (Cursed Human)
Dominic was not born an Other. Nor did he become an Other through the application of Belief. Instead, his ability, or talent, or whatever you might call it, is the result of a curse. Dominic is a Medium: he can see dead people, he hears voices. He can talk with them, interact with them, or hold the hand of a ghost should he wish it. He can commune with the dead, with demons, with angels, detect possession, and provide a channel for ghosts who need to borrow a body. Well, he could do all those things if he knew what in the world was going on. He’s struggled with it for three and a half years now, but due to station and his mother’s traditions of hating Others, keeps it hidden. As such he has zero control, occasionally goes off into mental space, and every so often answers questions that only he can hear.
Occupation: Noble, pianist, artist, daydreamer, potential vigilante
Faction: The Citadel (cough, honest), Nobility
Reputation & rumors:Far ( ... )
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It was almost immediately after that the voices started. Wherever he went, whether it was in the depths of the Castle or in out in remote areas of the cliffs, they followed him, whispering for attention, begging for him to talk to them, threatening him that if he didn’t, they’d hurt him, they’d throw him off the cliff - just like they had been. They were dead, Dominic realised. He was imagining that he was talking to dead people. Had that whore ( ... )
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Appearance:At an extremely slender six feet and three inches, Dominic Bercator gives the impression of a feather about to blow away in the first strong breeze. His build is more akin to his sisters’ than matching his stronger brothers. Like every other Bercator, his razor-cut hair is blonde, his skin fair, although his eyes are a rather startlingly pale green which can accidentally give him a cold appearance. He tans only lightly, and in the centre of his breastbone he evidences a scar that looks faintly as though he were at one time stabbed. He dresses carefully, insists on knowing theme and formality for each event he attends, and pays attention to his appearance at all times. He is excessively clean, demands a bath at least once if not twice a day, and abhors any form of dirt. Again, this does not stop him engaging in tomfoolery with his more boyish brethren, but you can ( ... )
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