Shadow. Darkness. Abyss. What does it mean when a man's dreams are filled with nothing that he can see or touch or hear or even taste or smell? Is it a premonition of death or something more... or something less. What does it mean when a man is ten years older than he should be. Ten years lost and gained all at once. Ten years spent as absolutely nothing, learning things that no soul no matter how dark and cruel should ever know. What does it mean when a soul so tormented learns to love, learns to use and accept an emotion offered to him so long ago that was in turn shunned as quickly and easily as it was given. What does it mean when that love, when used is freely accepted. What does it mean when that love, after accepted, is torn away so violently as to send cracks in the pristine form of a frozen web formed ages ago? Ravenna and Grishum know who hurt Cammille just as well as I. Raven I can forgive, she has always been naive. Devyn I cannot believe doesn't know. Kyoko I never truly got to know. Glethen was unwitting and Marcus I have yet to speak to. I cannot, at this time forgive them for falling in with those who would see them just as dead as Cammille... Even if it is under the pretense to infiltrate their numbers and eventually destroy them from within. Not that I have any proof of this but the Idea of it just reeks of Grishum and Ravenna both. I am a man who only came to this world for two reasons, one of the reasons I have seen through but the first reason... and the one reason that gives meaning to everything else... was wrenched away from me in a manner that makes all things, even Power, Insignificant. I killed two brothers and a sister and left my parents to die on a world that burned itself to death not for survival but for power. Being the last of your line is a kind of power, but it means nothing to me. I studied the ways of magic and the occult not for enlightenment but for power, all learned for naught for I couldn't save her. I sealed a pact with a being worse than the devil himself for power, but that power did me little good as Baal laughed in my ear as she lay dying in my arms. I now control the second largest official faction of villains on the world that boasts being the center of all known realties, but it's too late now to give my love all that I wished for her. The only thing left now is vengeance. A dish best served cold, I think is a popular saying. Then so be it. We'll see just how cold it likes to be served.
Force of Will: Superior
Some call it Vision, other call it Imagination, in truth it doesn't matter what it's called just that it exists... and that it exists in me. A leader needs to have the ability to lead, a lover needs to have the ability to love, an artist needs to have the ability to create. Perhaps I have all of these things, perhaps I merely have the ability to feign creativity and leadership. If when I give an order it's followed promptly and to the syllable, does it matter? If when I look at a column of Ice and see a wolf and the column shifts and reforms to fit that sight, does it matter? If my heart aches when I think of the love that was taken from me as I look at the ring on my hand, does it matter? I think it does.
Some say that a cold and heartless soul rests just beneath my skin. Cold, yes. Heartless could be no farther from the truth. I learned long ago that the way to control my element was not to become more like it but to make it become more like me. True, it sounds cliche now but so was the image of the emotionless Ice Master. A shadow taught me how to use my emotions to control things; only too late did I realize that he was in turn feeding off of those Emotions. Baal is gone from me, for now, and all for the better. Now no one watches over my shoulder as I stalk the streets towards the Tower. No one whispering in my ear telling me that such things go against the Void, my "True Master." Finally Alone after so long, and such a cold alone it is.
Matter Animation: Supreme
- Ranged Attack Only
- Area Affect
- Target Seeker
A painter uses whatever medium is required to draw a picture and decorate it making it a work of art. A sculptor uses whatever she is adept at sculpting and transforms it from its crude beginnings into something much more than the work involved or the original form. Which of these am I? I am both and I am neither. The Ice that I, crudely might I add, sling forth I can control. Using it to coat and redesign an area as per my whims. More to the fact I can sculpt from this mass any number of designs, both beautiful and deadly. Finally, I am more than either could ever hope to be: For I can give these sculptures life. Everything has a freezing point and once that point is reached it is just another facet of my next creation. Once I reach the Tower I will besiege it with an army of Jotun... Wrought from the very blood of their own fallen warriors.
You may wonder, ask even, where I happened to acquire all of this power? I was born with it. It's in the blood, I'll tell you. The entire bloodline, as I knew it, were Elementalists. Each with their own Specialties. As far as I know the entire planet could have been the same, I suspect that's how I ended up being the last of my line. That's both Conjecture and in the past. I merely know that I've always been Adept in the control of my Element and distinctly remember my brothers and sister demonstrating different aspects of similar control. I never actually saw Mother or Father do anything out of the ordinary but heard them called Lord of Blackfire and Lady of Stone every now and again. Take it as you will. My power is my own and as such I shall allow nothing to stand in the way of my goals...
Essances. Spirits. Elementals. I know these terms well, almost too well. This time around, however, the Spirits are under my control. The Dottir are spirits of the cold, wisps of glowing white essence that exist merely partially in this world. Partially is, however, just enough for them. Usually docile and rather benign spirits the Dottir that fall to my control become the driving force behind my bitter effigies. While the life I supply them is complete enough for them to know and follow my will, when a Dottir takes control it makes all the difference. Sentience just brings such flavor to an attacking winter wolf... and you haven't seen true terror until you see the look in someone's eye as a Jotun picks them up and proceeds to bite their head off. Ice is good at preserving that feeling very well indeed.
Blood and Water
Ice, water with purpose. What a purpose indeed. Does that mean that water has no purpose? Perhaps, perhaps not. Life, in and of itself, is not truly a purpose but... yes, a kind of power. Holding sway over life is one of the ultimate abilities in and of itself. My own affinity allows me to tap into a very small region of Water's domain: That over Life. It has served me well since my youth, allowing me the ability to heal wounds at incredible speed and efficiency... little good it did me on that fateful day. Little good indeed. Grishum told me to step back. To move away from her. I could have saved her, I swear it... but he stopped me... Cammille... ?
Weather Control: Supreme
- Area Affect
- Target Seeker
- Weakness: Not usable in terrain - Frozen Wastes
The Sky rolls, blotting out the sun. The horizon churns like the sea. A frigid wind bellows about me. A storm approaches, following closely upon my heels. Why? Because I will it. I summon the hail, the sleet, the snow because it suits me to do so. Where I go it follows, and so it should be. So it always shall. When I see fit the sky is black as night despite it being midday. When my love wants sun, it is what she shall have. So shall it be. So shall it always be.
Energy Wave Surfing: Superior
As it should be the Ice does what I will, therefore I go where I wish for it follows. Upon it I travel. A Throne of Ice if it suits me or merely a platform. Silent, regal, effective. It serves its purpose just I design it to. Upon a wave of frozen sea I arrive and upon a wave of frozen blood I will leave.