application for polychromatic
[nick / name]: Ara
[personal LJ name]: mangosherbet
[other characters currently played]: none
[e-mail]: flutterspark@gmail.com
[AIM / messenger]: sickiebeaver @ aim
[series]: The Demon's Lexicon
[character]: Nick Ryves
[character history / background]:
"We call on the demon they called Hnikarr in the west. We call on the demon they called Nicor on the storm-ruined sea, we call on the demon the northern tribes called Nix. We call on the tempest-summoner, the shipbreaker, the nightbringer, the one who shatters the sky. We call on the caller of the last darkness. We call on Hnikarr!"
There are demons living in a world side by side with ours, and they are hungry. There do not exist any known human records of what the demon realm is like. Humans have only caught snatches of it, glimpsed in a demon circle, barren and impossibly cold. No human being could say what living there is truly like. Demons themselves are beings of incredibly powerful magic, bending physical matter to their will, mute but communicating between each other in guttural sounds and thoughts and intentions, lacking in any feelings besides blind rage and cold calculation. Only one thing is certain: demons will do anything, and stop at nothing, to touch the warmth of the human world, to feel true emotions and taste the wind. This is where magicians come in: they create magic circles and call demons into them, offering them bodies to possess. With a demon and a human spirit inside vying for control, the shells never last, but demons are happy enough even for a temporary refuge. In exchange, demons give magicians the addictive magical power they so crave.
Arthur Dee, known as Black Arthur, was the leader of the Obsidian Circle, a powerful group of magicians. Black Arthur was young and ambitious, and so was his Circle; he had big plans. One of them involved a terrible, frightful demon, a fell thing made of rage, storm clouds and inky darkness: Hnikarr. Black Arthur offered the creature a bargain: a lifetime in a human's body, in exchange for servitude. Together, he said, they would rule the world.
As the legend goes, a baby does not possess a soul until its first breath. What Black Arthur was offering, then, was an unborn child for the demon to inhabit, an empty shell that would not fight him. A body he could keep, permanently. For a demon, the deal was sweet. Hnikarr's allies, the cold, seductive Liannan and the manipulative, proud Anzu, warned him against it: in a child's mind, he would lose himself, they said. He would forget himself, and be the magician's toy. Black Arthur argued that Hnikarr's body would be raised with the magicians and taught who and what he was. Hnikarr could easily give his allies bodies, once he was in the human realm. Then they could roam together. All he had to give was a little bit of power. Humans lie, Hnikarr was reminded. Demons could not.
The deal was too sweet; Hnikarr agreed.
The Circle was sent out; innumerable pregnant women were found, captured, and killed, their bodies and minds buckling against the demon's psychic assault. Weeks passed. Luckily for Black Arthur, he had an ace up his sleeve: his wife, the magician Olivia, was pregnant. Olivia was strong, and the child born from a line of magicians: suitable for Hnikarr. Arthur gave up his wife and son for power.
Olivia gave birth after months of torment, but the child that saw the day did not cry out or even move. It was silent, silent as the grave, with dead, cold black eyes. A success.
The body and its 'mother' stayed with the Circle for some weeks. Olivia's mind was worn and wounded from suffering, but not broken. On a night when Arthur stepped out, she did what all caged animals do when their handlers are absent: she took the baby and fled. She fled into the warm arms of Daniel Ryves, her first husband, like a demon coming in from the cold. Still mourning the loss of his second wife, Daniel, endlessly kind-hearted and lonely, took her in. He took the baby in, too, and his young son, Alan, found himself with a little brother. They could be a family together.
Black Arthur was rather upset at the theft of his property, however. Magicians were sent, and demons with them. They were hunted. So Olivia did what any sensible mother would do: she tried to drown the baby in the bathtub.
Hnikarr disagreed with this, and Daniel Ryves found his wife thrashing to keep her baby underwater in a tub of boiling water. With Hnikarr's true nature revealed, keeping Olivia sane became Daniel's responsibility and tending to the baby became Alan's. Unable to properly pronounce 'Hnikarr', Alan Ryves gave his baby brother a better name: Nick. It all went downhill from there.
The little family was chased all over the United Kingdom by Black Arthur's people, and eventually other circles as well once the news spread. A year went by until Daniel finally realized Nick's true nature: it was a demon, the child's body it was possessing couldn't be saved or salvaged, and there was nothing left to do but to kill it. He tried, standing over the crib with a magical knife. He hesitated. Alan caught him.
Alan didn't take it very well.
After that, Alan hardly ever left Nick's side. He talked to Nick, fed him, dressed him, washed and changed him. He read to him. Anzu and Liannan hadn't been wrong: caught inside a baby's brain, Hnikarr's consciousness was scattered. The demon nature remained, but his thoughts and memories were lost when the brain's limited capacities failed to grasp them. He forgot he was a demon, that he'd ever been anything but Nicholas 'Nick' Ryves, Daniel Ryves' son and Alan Ryves' brother. His mother went into fits whenever he was near, so he learned to stay away. He grew. Nick absorbed it all, and at four years old he spoke his first word: “chair”. (The second one was “dad”.) Late for a human, but an impossible feat for a mute demon. Small hope blossomed inside Alan and Daniel. More words followed. Alan insisted that Nick be sent to preschool. Nick enjoyed watching his father repair his car, enjoyed working with his hands. He wore a demon-repelling talisman that burned him, but bore it for Alan's sake.
For Nick's seventh birthday, Daniel did not give him a knife, though Nick wanted one. For his eighth, Daniel took him on a father-son camping trip. It lasted three days before extended separation from Alan made Nick stir-crazy. They came back, and the brothers had marshmallows over the toaster. Before Nick turned nine, Daniel Ryves died. In the same night, Nick took off the talisman that always burned him, and the result left his brother crippled for the rest of his life. The three of them fled.
Nick continued attending school at his brother's insistence, though Alan was eventually forced to drop out in order to be the family's breadwinner. Nick protested it, but Alan wanted him to be more human, and encouraged him to keep studying. Nick managed not to fail, even English, as the brothers and their mother kept one brief step ahead of the magicians hunting them. They attended the Goblin Market and, since they had a bounty of magicians to kill, helped people remove demon marks with the lifeblood. Nick was told that the reason he was bad with words was because he was dyslexic, and that the magicians were after a charm that Olivia had. Things were...bad, but 'bad' was normal for them.
One Christmas, Alan left for four days, leaving Nick alone with Olivia. Nick hardly moved, alone in the dark, only went upstairs to feed his mother who screamed when he approached her. Like the camping trip, it was as close Nick could get to feeling miserable. Alan came back, and Nick made him swore he'd never leave again.
Then one idle day in April, the Crawford siblings showed up, one of them sporting pink hair and the other a third-tier demon mark. Things got complicated after that. Alan got himself a first-tier mark as well, thanks in no small part of Mae and Jamie, and Nick was consequently not endeared with them. Then, instead of erasing his first-tier mark at the Goblin Market like he'd said he would, Alan went and took one of Jamie's tiers, giving them both second-tier marks. Now they had to find and kill two magicians to finish the job. In the midst of this, Nick found out a number of things, including that Alan had been in contact with his mother's family-but hadn't told Nick-and came to the conclusion that Alan had a big secret he was keeping from his brother: that Nick was Black Arthur's son. The son of the man trying to kill them.
The revelation made so much sense to him and was so disturbing that he didn't bother to delve further. Alan used Nick's willingness to protect him to lure him right to Black Arthur, whom he knew would trap Nick in a demon circle. It was there, caught in Black Arthur's stronghold, that Nick learned the truth. All of it. Before Arthur could cash in his investment, however, Alan did something incredibly stupid: he used the magic circle Arthur had so conveniently made for him to set Hnikarr free.
Nick had turned sixteen barely two months before. At sixteen, human bodies become able to control magic. Hnikarr left the body entirely, a dead shell on the floor. His power was limitless. He could raze cities and have anything he wished. He was invincible and untouchable. Liannan and Anzu would get bodies as well, a string of them, he could create bodies for them.
But then, there was Alan to think of. Alan who'd cared for him. Alan who'd raised him, who'd taught him to speak. Speaking; a way of lying. Hnikarr did not like speaking, but he was forced to acknowledge he was changed. Alan had changed him. Alan had never stopped loving a demon.
So Hnikarr made a choice: he went back to the body and slipped back into it like a too-small coat. From them on, his sole intention was Alan's happiness, his devotion exclusively for his brother. Demons know only two kinds of relationships with humans: as slaves or masters. Like a dog, Nick would do anything for Alan, and Alan provided direction for Nick's raw power.
When Alan wanted to take him to meet his mother's estranged family, Nick went along. Sadly, his previous encounter with Alan's aunt had ended in violence, and she consequently barred her doors against them. Alan understood her. Nick did not. He saw nothing more than an obstacle to Alan's happiness, and knew an easy solution for it. He sneaked into their house in the cover of night, and gave every member of the family a third-tier mark. Under his thrall, they went crawling back to Alan, and Alan was happy. And as long as Alan was happy, Nick was satisfied.
[character abilities]:
Besides being incredibly proficient with a sword and throwing knives-and passable with a gun, I might add, though he finds it distasteful-Nick is in possession of rather a large bit of demon magic. This allows him to manipulate physical matter in such a way as gives him control of the elements, teleportation, and a host of other skills that he...doesn't really use. He could probably do more than that, but he isn't really inclined to it or even particularly creative, and besides, Alan doesn't want him to. Storms of the epic and horrible variety are his specialty, but he's partial to fire as well.
Nick also has the ability to mark people with a demon's mark: two lines in a triangle, framing an eye. The mark allows a normal demon to control and possess the wearer's body, but since Nick has no need to possess what he already has, the mark serves only for mind control. What a relief for everyone, I'm sure.
[character personality]:
"Do you think you’re evil?" "Probably. It wouldn’t matter, except that Alan minds."
Tall, Dark, and Handsome; it's a trope, sure, something to attribute to guys with names like Heathcliff who live in places that are referred to as glens, or moors, or brooding forests. But when you lay eyes on Nick for the first time, Tall, Dark and Handsome is generally what you see first. It's also your last line of defence, because once you start looking past it, you'll wish you hadn't.
Nick makes people uncomfortable. Now, I'm not talking about the fairly benign, awkward-teenage-boy vibes or even angry-hooligan impressions. Nick makes animals rage. Nick makes children cry. Nick has dead black eyes and makes people's stomachs curl up on themselves. He's the kind of guy you'd lock your door against, tell your daughter to avoid, and the kind you wouldn't want to meet in a back alley at night. He misses blatant social cues. He's too quiet. He's suddenly and inexplicably violent. This is because Nick finds that faking being a human is equal parts confusing, tiring, and pointless. Most of the time, he doesn't even try. Nick isn't a human, he's a demon.
Nick is not possessed. It can't be overstated that he is not possessed. He is a demon, and without the demon consciousness, the human body is empty. It has never had a soul. Nick is Hnikarr, albeit changed by time and tiny increments of well-placed devotion. In order to understand Nick, a little background information on demons is required. Demons are naturally mute and emotionless, with no written language, though they do possess sentience. They're incredibly cruel and don't have much impulses beyond what will serve their own selfish goals. They're immortal, and in that span of endless time they sometimes forge alliances in between visits to the human realm. These alliances are not friendships; they are connections forged in common interest. Demons are eminently logical and practical, though exceptions exist to this rule, such as Anzu, the demon who wanted to be loved. They can feel amusement, sometimes, understand jokes and quips. They are possessive of what is theirs and what they think is theirs. When what is theirs is taken away, they are quick to violence and anger, like starved dogs over scraps.
This influence is palpable in Nick: he's extremely detached, unable to rationalize human emotions because he has none of his own. Occasionally he feels things like discomfort or unhappiness, though whether these are true feelings or if he's simply parroting things out of habit is dubious. It has been canonically stated that he feels no shame or embarrassment, that he does not understand pity or sympathy, and the closest he comes to happiness is mild satisfaction, or triumph when he reaches a goal or kills an enemy. It's worth noting that he's intended to be an unreliable He's not excitable; in fact, getting him interested in anything that isn't related to Alan, swords or violence is a feat. For all that he likes to fight, he isn't temperamental, but when he is angry the rage is white-hot and seething. It's almost like he has strata of violence, ranging from the cold disdain he reserves for strangers to the deep black hatred he keeps in store for magicians and betrayers. Think of Nick as an onion: an onion of violence.
He's logical to the point of obscenity, though he doesn't enjoy philosophizing or even thinking for too long. He can be calculating when he wants something, or when he wants to kill someone. He's clever enough to have a tongue as sharp as any of his swords. As quick as he can be with his tongue, though-pun intended, haha-it's important to remember one key fact: demons can't lie. Words are already slippery for them, so using them with the express intent of deceit is far, far beyond a demon's capacity. This means that no only is Nick incapable of lying, he also has a very hard black spot in heart for deceivers, inherited from Hnikarr. When your brother is Alan 'Two-Faced Compulsive Liar' Ryves, though, things can get pretty hairy.
Alan and Nick have a strange relationship. They're at once both closer and more distant than most sibling pairs: distant because Nick will obviously never love Alan the way Alan wants him to, and closer because Nick is essentially Alan's puppy. Like a well-trained rottweiler, Nick will not only follow his brother until the day Alan dies, he'll also mow down anyone and anything that gets in Alan's way...unless Alan says not to. Alan is Nick's conscience. Alan is a liar. Alan lies all day, every day, to keep them fed and homed and safe, and Nick is a survivor. In this case, practicality and blind devotion win out against an ancient lack of mercy or compassion. When other people lie, Nick is full of contempt. When Alan lies, Nick tolerates it, because he trusts Alan. He trusts Alan to the core of his being. Everything Nick is now, everything that he has ever been since he came into the world in a human body, has been based on Alan's presence. When Alan is away, Nick is angry, upset, snappish like a tiger in a cage. When Alan is close Nick wants nothing else but for him to stay there.
Alan is Nick's Achilles heel and the last wall between the world and Hnikarr's terrible wrath. As long as Alan is alive, safe and well, things are all right. If Alan is harmed, all bets are off...unless Alan says so. Alan's word is the only thing that will stop Nick, no matter what, because at the core, Nick wants his brother to be pleased with him like he wants nothing else. He often can't grasp how to do this, but that doesn't prevent him from trying...often with horrible results. The happiness of others doesn't register to Nick. Their hopes, their aspirations mean nothing to him. Alan is the only person who really matters.
Jamie and Mae come a far second, but they do matter. At the point in canon where Nick is taken from, he and Alan have wrapped up their business with the Crawford siblings and Nick has consequently tucked them away in his mind. They have, however, crossed the threshold from 'people', which is a category he doesn't really care about, to 'people who owe him/his brother', which makes them his, in a roundabout sort of way, and he cares about what is his. Mae is someone he has respect for, which is rare; Nick goes through life as if he has limited stores of respect, and giving it away will cause him to spontaneously combust. At the end of the day, though, Mae was willing and able to kill, to go to the end of things for her brother, and that devotion is something Nick can understand. Jamie, on the other hand, serves little purpose beyond amusing Nick, but at least he does it admirably! Nick tends to file Jamie away under 'harmless and of little substance', though he does know that, with his powers, Jamie could potentially be a threat. Nick figures he'll deal with Jamie if it gets to that; the Crawfords aren't important enough that he would think twice about killing them if he has to.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]:
Two weeks post-The Demon's Lexicon, during the Durham incident involving Alan's family.
[journal post]:
[ The video clicks on, and there is a young man. He looks not-so-vaguely murderous and is standing perfectly, strangely still. A few seconds go by. He says nothing. His eyes slide very slowly to a point off-camera, and there's a sort of shuffling sound and a voice: 'go on'. ]
I'm looking for work. [ Before there was silence as if nothing but silence could ever possibly come, but his mouth opens and words tumble out like shy sheep on a jagged mountainside. His voice is low and rough, but not hoarse, with an English lilt to it. ] Alan said this was the fastest way.
I'm decent with mechanical stuff. Worked in a few garages, back home. I've been told I'm good with my hands. [ A flash of a smirk, and yet it's still somehow threatening despite, or perhaps because of, its bearers best intentions. ] I've done carpentry, janitorial work and heavy lifting. I can drive.
[ A pause. His eyes flicker again to something off-screen, presumably his brother. He levels Alan a hard gaze, like 'can this be over yet'? Then focuses. ] I don't work on teams. [ Caveat emptor, as they say. Or Alan would say. ] If you have any openings, let me know. Nick Ryves.
[ Click. ]
[[ooc: Alan used with permission.]]
[third person / log sample]:
They sit, all six of them, huddled around the polished dinner table so black and smooth it almost looks as nice as the Crawfords'. Nick can feel the solid press of it flattening the skin of his elbows. Alan isn't casting him any reprimanding looks, too caught up in telling some asinine story about their childhood, as if anyone could possibly give a toss. Natasha, the aunt, has her shoulders bowed towards Alan, listening rapturously. The food lies untouched in the plates as the family listens, laughing at appropriate moments, asking questions to keep Alan talking. Nick briefly remembers to let them eat between bouts of soft adoration.
Alan says a joke, a stupid one, but the family laughs, Nick makes sure of it. It doesn't even sound forced. He can feel their weak little wills thrashing against his hold, like holding an insect in his fist. Crushing them would be easy, but then Alan would be cross. A cluster of hanging lamps over the table catch Alan's face, highlighting the lack of bags under his eyes, the relaxed planes of his face. Nick thinks that the last time he saw Alan looking relaxed, Alan had been ten.
The husband gets up to fetch more food. Nick wonders idly how much time it's been and how much more time it's going to be until dinner's finished. Alan has a lot to say, which means the family has a lot to listen to and the food is disappearing slowly. He distantly listens to one of the children asks Alan if he likes football, and Alan lies smoothly that yes, of course he does, why don't they watch the game together? And Nick briefly has to pause to wonder what the right answer is. On the one hand, Alan doesn't like football. On the other, the kid doesn't know that. Its answer is an enthusiastic yes. The other child invites itself along, and Alan's eyes do a strange light-up thing like Alan is trying to hold too much happiness at once and it's bursting out of his eye sockets. Husband comes back and gives Alan seconds; he gives some to Nick, too, but Nick has to fight his screaming the whole way.
In the absence of emotions, Nick has always defined himself on his competence, his skills, the tangible knowledge of what he can do. Making Alan pleased with him, he knows, is one of the most important. He recalls this fact to himself as he contemplates forcing the man's mind to submit completely, ablating it until there would be nothing left but mindless obedience. It would be nice, and less tiresome, and if he had them all flattened he could focus on making them care even more. This is just a distraction, after all, a little show he puts on for no one's benefit but Alan's. It's easy, but he could do more. He could fix Alan's leg, he could kill all the magicians, he could build them the most enormous house in England-in the world-if only Alan would let him. But what Alan wants is this; this room, these people and their laughter. It makes Nick's lip curl. He isn't enough for Alan. He could give Alan everything, but Nick isn't enough. Nick could give him real things, rewards beyond imagining. What Alan wants is lies.
Natasha asks Alan about school; has Alan gone back yet? Alan shyly admits that no, he hasn't. Nick is satisfied when she immediately offers to pay his tuition fees-where would he like to go? A boy as smart as him could make it to Cambridge, or Oxford. Alan flushes under the praise. Of course, Nick knows that they can't afford either of those places, unless they stopped eating.
Hm. Two birds, one stone.
I couldn't ask you to do that, Alan refuses, but Natasha waves him off, nonsense, you're Marie's son. You're family. There's a burst of sadness at the table, and Nick is briefly annoyed. Alan's stupid mum wasn't even around most of the time, and she was always sick and she died ages ago, why hadn't they gotten over it already? They ignore Nick, mostly, but this is completely normal behavior and Nick knows Alan doesn't notice it. That's fine. They don't matter. Tonight they'll all watch the football game, and tomorrow the husband will propose a museum visit because Alan likes those.
Alan is happy, and that's what matters.
[personal LJ name]: mangosherbet
[other characters currently played]: none
[e-mail]: flutterspark@gmail.com
[AIM / messenger]: sickiebeaver @ aim
[series]: The Demon's Lexicon
[character]: Nick Ryves
[character history / background]:
"We call on the demon they called Hnikarr in the west. We call on the demon they called Nicor on the storm-ruined sea, we call on the demon the northern tribes called Nix. We call on the tempest-summoner, the shipbreaker, the nightbringer, the one who shatters the sky. We call on the caller of the last darkness. We call on Hnikarr!"
There are demons living in a world side by side with ours, and they are hungry. There do not exist any known human records of what the demon realm is like. Humans have only caught snatches of it, glimpsed in a demon circle, barren and impossibly cold. No human being could say what living there is truly like. Demons themselves are beings of incredibly powerful magic, bending physical matter to their will, mute but communicating between each other in guttural sounds and thoughts and intentions, lacking in any feelings besides blind rage and cold calculation. Only one thing is certain: demons will do anything, and stop at nothing, to touch the warmth of the human world, to feel true emotions and taste the wind. This is where magicians come in: they create magic circles and call demons into them, offering them bodies to possess. With a demon and a human spirit inside vying for control, the shells never last, but demons are happy enough even for a temporary refuge. In exchange, demons give magicians the addictive magical power they so crave.
Arthur Dee, known as Black Arthur, was the leader of the Obsidian Circle, a powerful group of magicians. Black Arthur was young and ambitious, and so was his Circle; he had big plans. One of them involved a terrible, frightful demon, a fell thing made of rage, storm clouds and inky darkness: Hnikarr. Black Arthur offered the creature a bargain: a lifetime in a human's body, in exchange for servitude. Together, he said, they would rule the world.
As the legend goes, a baby does not possess a soul until its first breath. What Black Arthur was offering, then, was an unborn child for the demon to inhabit, an empty shell that would not fight him. A body he could keep, permanently. For a demon, the deal was sweet. Hnikarr's allies, the cold, seductive Liannan and the manipulative, proud Anzu, warned him against it: in a child's mind, he would lose himself, they said. He would forget himself, and be the magician's toy. Black Arthur argued that Hnikarr's body would be raised with the magicians and taught who and what he was. Hnikarr could easily give his allies bodies, once he was in the human realm. Then they could roam together. All he had to give was a little bit of power. Humans lie, Hnikarr was reminded. Demons could not.
The deal was too sweet; Hnikarr agreed.
The Circle was sent out; innumerable pregnant women were found, captured, and killed, their bodies and minds buckling against the demon's psychic assault. Weeks passed. Luckily for Black Arthur, he had an ace up his sleeve: his wife, the magician Olivia, was pregnant. Olivia was strong, and the child born from a line of magicians: suitable for Hnikarr. Arthur gave up his wife and son for power.
Olivia gave birth after months of torment, but the child that saw the day did not cry out or even move. It was silent, silent as the grave, with dead, cold black eyes. A success.
The body and its 'mother' stayed with the Circle for some weeks. Olivia's mind was worn and wounded from suffering, but not broken. On a night when Arthur stepped out, she did what all caged animals do when their handlers are absent: she took the baby and fled. She fled into the warm arms of Daniel Ryves, her first husband, like a demon coming in from the cold. Still mourning the loss of his second wife, Daniel, endlessly kind-hearted and lonely, took her in. He took the baby in, too, and his young son, Alan, found himself with a little brother. They could be a family together.
Black Arthur was rather upset at the theft of his property, however. Magicians were sent, and demons with them. They were hunted. So Olivia did what any sensible mother would do: she tried to drown the baby in the bathtub.
Hnikarr disagreed with this, and Daniel Ryves found his wife thrashing to keep her baby underwater in a tub of boiling water. With Hnikarr's true nature revealed, keeping Olivia sane became Daniel's responsibility and tending to the baby became Alan's. Unable to properly pronounce 'Hnikarr', Alan Ryves gave his baby brother a better name: Nick. It all went downhill from there.
The little family was chased all over the United Kingdom by Black Arthur's people, and eventually other circles as well once the news spread. A year went by until Daniel finally realized Nick's true nature: it was a demon, the child's body it was possessing couldn't be saved or salvaged, and there was nothing left to do but to kill it. He tried, standing over the crib with a magical knife. He hesitated. Alan caught him.
Alan didn't take it very well.
After that, Alan hardly ever left Nick's side. He talked to Nick, fed him, dressed him, washed and changed him. He read to him. Anzu and Liannan hadn't been wrong: caught inside a baby's brain, Hnikarr's consciousness was scattered. The demon nature remained, but his thoughts and memories were lost when the brain's limited capacities failed to grasp them. He forgot he was a demon, that he'd ever been anything but Nicholas 'Nick' Ryves, Daniel Ryves' son and Alan Ryves' brother. His mother went into fits whenever he was near, so he learned to stay away. He grew. Nick absorbed it all, and at four years old he spoke his first word: “chair”. (The second one was “dad”.) Late for a human, but an impossible feat for a mute demon. Small hope blossomed inside Alan and Daniel. More words followed. Alan insisted that Nick be sent to preschool. Nick enjoyed watching his father repair his car, enjoyed working with his hands. He wore a demon-repelling talisman that burned him, but bore it for Alan's sake.
For Nick's seventh birthday, Daniel did not give him a knife, though Nick wanted one. For his eighth, Daniel took him on a father-son camping trip. It lasted three days before extended separation from Alan made Nick stir-crazy. They came back, and the brothers had marshmallows over the toaster. Before Nick turned nine, Daniel Ryves died. In the same night, Nick took off the talisman that always burned him, and the result left his brother crippled for the rest of his life. The three of them fled.
Nick continued attending school at his brother's insistence, though Alan was eventually forced to drop out in order to be the family's breadwinner. Nick protested it, but Alan wanted him to be more human, and encouraged him to keep studying. Nick managed not to fail, even English, as the brothers and their mother kept one brief step ahead of the magicians hunting them. They attended the Goblin Market and, since they had a bounty of magicians to kill, helped people remove demon marks with the lifeblood. Nick was told that the reason he was bad with words was because he was dyslexic, and that the magicians were after a charm that Olivia had. Things were...bad, but 'bad' was normal for them.
One Christmas, Alan left for four days, leaving Nick alone with Olivia. Nick hardly moved, alone in the dark, only went upstairs to feed his mother who screamed when he approached her. Like the camping trip, it was as close Nick could get to feeling miserable. Alan came back, and Nick made him swore he'd never leave again.
Then one idle day in April, the Crawford siblings showed up, one of them sporting pink hair and the other a third-tier demon mark. Things got complicated after that. Alan got himself a first-tier mark as well, thanks in no small part of Mae and Jamie, and Nick was consequently not endeared with them. Then, instead of erasing his first-tier mark at the Goblin Market like he'd said he would, Alan went and took one of Jamie's tiers, giving them both second-tier marks. Now they had to find and kill two magicians to finish the job. In the midst of this, Nick found out a number of things, including that Alan had been in contact with his mother's family-but hadn't told Nick-and came to the conclusion that Alan had a big secret he was keeping from his brother: that Nick was Black Arthur's son. The son of the man trying to kill them.
The revelation made so much sense to him and was so disturbing that he didn't bother to delve further. Alan used Nick's willingness to protect him to lure him right to Black Arthur, whom he knew would trap Nick in a demon circle. It was there, caught in Black Arthur's stronghold, that Nick learned the truth. All of it. Before Arthur could cash in his investment, however, Alan did something incredibly stupid: he used the magic circle Arthur had so conveniently made for him to set Hnikarr free.
Nick had turned sixteen barely two months before. At sixteen, human bodies become able to control magic. Hnikarr left the body entirely, a dead shell on the floor. His power was limitless. He could raze cities and have anything he wished. He was invincible and untouchable. Liannan and Anzu would get bodies as well, a string of them, he could create bodies for them.
But then, there was Alan to think of. Alan who'd cared for him. Alan who'd raised him, who'd taught him to speak. Speaking; a way of lying. Hnikarr did not like speaking, but he was forced to acknowledge he was changed. Alan had changed him. Alan had never stopped loving a demon.
So Hnikarr made a choice: he went back to the body and slipped back into it like a too-small coat. From them on, his sole intention was Alan's happiness, his devotion exclusively for his brother. Demons know only two kinds of relationships with humans: as slaves or masters. Like a dog, Nick would do anything for Alan, and Alan provided direction for Nick's raw power.
When Alan wanted to take him to meet his mother's estranged family, Nick went along. Sadly, his previous encounter with Alan's aunt had ended in violence, and she consequently barred her doors against them. Alan understood her. Nick did not. He saw nothing more than an obstacle to Alan's happiness, and knew an easy solution for it. He sneaked into their house in the cover of night, and gave every member of the family a third-tier mark. Under his thrall, they went crawling back to Alan, and Alan was happy. And as long as Alan was happy, Nick was satisfied.
[character abilities]:
Besides being incredibly proficient with a sword and throwing knives-and passable with a gun, I might add, though he finds it distasteful-Nick is in possession of rather a large bit of demon magic. This allows him to manipulate physical matter in such a way as gives him control of the elements, teleportation, and a host of other skills that he...doesn't really use. He could probably do more than that, but he isn't really inclined to it or even particularly creative, and besides, Alan doesn't want him to. Storms of the epic and horrible variety are his specialty, but he's partial to fire as well.
Nick also has the ability to mark people with a demon's mark: two lines in a triangle, framing an eye. The mark allows a normal demon to control and possess the wearer's body, but since Nick has no need to possess what he already has, the mark serves only for mind control. What a relief for everyone, I'm sure.
[character personality]:
"Do you think you’re evil?" "Probably. It wouldn’t matter, except that Alan minds."
Tall, Dark, and Handsome; it's a trope, sure, something to attribute to guys with names like Heathcliff who live in places that are referred to as glens, or moors, or brooding forests. But when you lay eyes on Nick for the first time, Tall, Dark and Handsome is generally what you see first. It's also your last line of defence, because once you start looking past it, you'll wish you hadn't.
Nick makes people uncomfortable. Now, I'm not talking about the fairly benign, awkward-teenage-boy vibes or even angry-hooligan impressions. Nick makes animals rage. Nick makes children cry. Nick has dead black eyes and makes people's stomachs curl up on themselves. He's the kind of guy you'd lock your door against, tell your daughter to avoid, and the kind you wouldn't want to meet in a back alley at night. He misses blatant social cues. He's too quiet. He's suddenly and inexplicably violent. This is because Nick finds that faking being a human is equal parts confusing, tiring, and pointless. Most of the time, he doesn't even try. Nick isn't a human, he's a demon.
Nick is not possessed. It can't be overstated that he is not possessed. He is a demon, and without the demon consciousness, the human body is empty. It has never had a soul. Nick is Hnikarr, albeit changed by time and tiny increments of well-placed devotion. In order to understand Nick, a little background information on demons is required. Demons are naturally mute and emotionless, with no written language, though they do possess sentience. They're incredibly cruel and don't have much impulses beyond what will serve their own selfish goals. They're immortal, and in that span of endless time they sometimes forge alliances in between visits to the human realm. These alliances are not friendships; they are connections forged in common interest. Demons are eminently logical and practical, though exceptions exist to this rule, such as Anzu, the demon who wanted to be loved. They can feel amusement, sometimes, understand jokes and quips. They are possessive of what is theirs and what they think is theirs. When what is theirs is taken away, they are quick to violence and anger, like starved dogs over scraps.
This influence is palpable in Nick: he's extremely detached, unable to rationalize human emotions because he has none of his own. Occasionally he feels things like discomfort or unhappiness, though whether these are true feelings or if he's simply parroting things out of habit is dubious. It has been canonically stated that he feels no shame or embarrassment, that he does not understand pity or sympathy, and the closest he comes to happiness is mild satisfaction, or triumph when he reaches a goal or kills an enemy. It's worth noting that he's intended to be an unreliable He's not excitable; in fact, getting him interested in anything that isn't related to Alan, swords or violence is a feat. For all that he likes to fight, he isn't temperamental, but when he is angry the rage is white-hot and seething. It's almost like he has strata of violence, ranging from the cold disdain he reserves for strangers to the deep black hatred he keeps in store for magicians and betrayers. Think of Nick as an onion: an onion of violence.
He's logical to the point of obscenity, though he doesn't enjoy philosophizing or even thinking for too long. He can be calculating when he wants something, or when he wants to kill someone. He's clever enough to have a tongue as sharp as any of his swords. As quick as he can be with his tongue, though-pun intended, haha-it's important to remember one key fact: demons can't lie. Words are already slippery for them, so using them with the express intent of deceit is far, far beyond a demon's capacity. This means that no only is Nick incapable of lying, he also has a very hard black spot in heart for deceivers, inherited from Hnikarr. When your brother is Alan 'Two-Faced Compulsive Liar' Ryves, though, things can get pretty hairy.
Alan and Nick have a strange relationship. They're at once both closer and more distant than most sibling pairs: distant because Nick will obviously never love Alan the way Alan wants him to, and closer because Nick is essentially Alan's puppy. Like a well-trained rottweiler, Nick will not only follow his brother until the day Alan dies, he'll also mow down anyone and anything that gets in Alan's way...unless Alan says not to. Alan is Nick's conscience. Alan is a liar. Alan lies all day, every day, to keep them fed and homed and safe, and Nick is a survivor. In this case, practicality and blind devotion win out against an ancient lack of mercy or compassion. When other people lie, Nick is full of contempt. When Alan lies, Nick tolerates it, because he trusts Alan. He trusts Alan to the core of his being. Everything Nick is now, everything that he has ever been since he came into the world in a human body, has been based on Alan's presence. When Alan is away, Nick is angry, upset, snappish like a tiger in a cage. When Alan is close Nick wants nothing else but for him to stay there.
Alan is Nick's Achilles heel and the last wall between the world and Hnikarr's terrible wrath. As long as Alan is alive, safe and well, things are all right. If Alan is harmed, all bets are off...unless Alan says so. Alan's word is the only thing that will stop Nick, no matter what, because at the core, Nick wants his brother to be pleased with him like he wants nothing else. He often can't grasp how to do this, but that doesn't prevent him from trying...often with horrible results. The happiness of others doesn't register to Nick. Their hopes, their aspirations mean nothing to him. Alan is the only person who really matters.
Jamie and Mae come a far second, but they do matter. At the point in canon where Nick is taken from, he and Alan have wrapped up their business with the Crawford siblings and Nick has consequently tucked them away in his mind. They have, however, crossed the threshold from 'people', which is a category he doesn't really care about, to 'people who owe him/his brother', which makes them his, in a roundabout sort of way, and he cares about what is his. Mae is someone he has respect for, which is rare; Nick goes through life as if he has limited stores of respect, and giving it away will cause him to spontaneously combust. At the end of the day, though, Mae was willing and able to kill, to go to the end of things for her brother, and that devotion is something Nick can understand. Jamie, on the other hand, serves little purpose beyond amusing Nick, but at least he does it admirably! Nick tends to file Jamie away under 'harmless and of little substance', though he does know that, with his powers, Jamie could potentially be a threat. Nick figures he'll deal with Jamie if it gets to that; the Crawfords aren't important enough that he would think twice about killing them if he has to.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]:
Two weeks post-The Demon's Lexicon, during the Durham incident involving Alan's family.
[journal post]:
[ The video clicks on, and there is a young man. He looks not-so-vaguely murderous and is standing perfectly, strangely still. A few seconds go by. He says nothing. His eyes slide very slowly to a point off-camera, and there's a sort of shuffling sound and a voice: 'go on'. ]
I'm looking for work. [ Before there was silence as if nothing but silence could ever possibly come, but his mouth opens and words tumble out like shy sheep on a jagged mountainside. His voice is low and rough, but not hoarse, with an English lilt to it. ] Alan said this was the fastest way.
I'm decent with mechanical stuff. Worked in a few garages, back home. I've been told I'm good with my hands. [ A flash of a smirk, and yet it's still somehow threatening despite, or perhaps because of, its bearers best intentions. ] I've done carpentry, janitorial work and heavy lifting. I can drive.
[ A pause. His eyes flicker again to something off-screen, presumably his brother. He levels Alan a hard gaze, like 'can this be over yet'? Then focuses. ] I don't work on teams. [ Caveat emptor, as they say. Or Alan would say. ] If you have any openings, let me know. Nick Ryves.
[ Click. ]
[[ooc: Alan used with permission.]]
[third person / log sample]:
They sit, all six of them, huddled around the polished dinner table so black and smooth it almost looks as nice as the Crawfords'. Nick can feel the solid press of it flattening the skin of his elbows. Alan isn't casting him any reprimanding looks, too caught up in telling some asinine story about their childhood, as if anyone could possibly give a toss. Natasha, the aunt, has her shoulders bowed towards Alan, listening rapturously. The food lies untouched in the plates as the family listens, laughing at appropriate moments, asking questions to keep Alan talking. Nick briefly remembers to let them eat between bouts of soft adoration.
Alan says a joke, a stupid one, but the family laughs, Nick makes sure of it. It doesn't even sound forced. He can feel their weak little wills thrashing against his hold, like holding an insect in his fist. Crushing them would be easy, but then Alan would be cross. A cluster of hanging lamps over the table catch Alan's face, highlighting the lack of bags under his eyes, the relaxed planes of his face. Nick thinks that the last time he saw Alan looking relaxed, Alan had been ten.
The husband gets up to fetch more food. Nick wonders idly how much time it's been and how much more time it's going to be until dinner's finished. Alan has a lot to say, which means the family has a lot to listen to and the food is disappearing slowly. He distantly listens to one of the children asks Alan if he likes football, and Alan lies smoothly that yes, of course he does, why don't they watch the game together? And Nick briefly has to pause to wonder what the right answer is. On the one hand, Alan doesn't like football. On the other, the kid doesn't know that. Its answer is an enthusiastic yes. The other child invites itself along, and Alan's eyes do a strange light-up thing like Alan is trying to hold too much happiness at once and it's bursting out of his eye sockets. Husband comes back and gives Alan seconds; he gives some to Nick, too, but Nick has to fight his screaming the whole way.
In the absence of emotions, Nick has always defined himself on his competence, his skills, the tangible knowledge of what he can do. Making Alan pleased with him, he knows, is one of the most important. He recalls this fact to himself as he contemplates forcing the man's mind to submit completely, ablating it until there would be nothing left but mindless obedience. It would be nice, and less tiresome, and if he had them all flattened he could focus on making them care even more. This is just a distraction, after all, a little show he puts on for no one's benefit but Alan's. It's easy, but he could do more. He could fix Alan's leg, he could kill all the magicians, he could build them the most enormous house in England-in the world-if only Alan would let him. But what Alan wants is this; this room, these people and their laughter. It makes Nick's lip curl. He isn't enough for Alan. He could give Alan everything, but Nick isn't enough. Nick could give him real things, rewards beyond imagining. What Alan wants is lies.
Natasha asks Alan about school; has Alan gone back yet? Alan shyly admits that no, he hasn't. Nick is satisfied when she immediately offers to pay his tuition fees-where would he like to go? A boy as smart as him could make it to Cambridge, or Oxford. Alan flushes under the praise. Of course, Nick knows that they can't afford either of those places, unless they stopped eating.
Hm. Two birds, one stone.
I couldn't ask you to do that, Alan refuses, but Natasha waves him off, nonsense, you're Marie's son. You're family. There's a burst of sadness at the table, and Nick is briefly annoyed. Alan's stupid mum wasn't even around most of the time, and she was always sick and she died ages ago, why hadn't they gotten over it already? They ignore Nick, mostly, but this is completely normal behavior and Nick knows Alan doesn't notice it. That's fine. They don't matter. Tonight they'll all watch the football game, and tomorrow the husband will propose a museum visit because Alan likes those.
Alan is happy, and that's what matters.