Darius Magnus

NAME:
Darius Iskandar Magnus

AGE:
47 and counting

GENDER:
Male

NATIONALITY:
Turkish-British

BIRTHPLACE:
Istanbul, Turkey

BIRTHDATE:
September 14

PICTURE:

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
Monstrous. Absolutely monstrous. When you think of a giant of a man, most men you think of will likely sit within the 6'6 to 6'9 ranges--everyone else is just horrific. That is Darius; a six foot eleven inch tall tower of pure muscle, with not a single fat cell in sight. He is completely ripped and muscular, and each step he takes seems to cause his body to ripple as if it is that of a jaguar preparing to pounce. Despite being a large man he doesn't seem to walk with a heavy gait, and yet his mere presence has a stifling weight to it that you can't seem to shake off by merely looking away.

When he finally breaks the silence, you can't help but notice that this man's voice has some kind of calming property. Even with the gruff edges to its accented tone, there is a smoothness that belies its carrier. He isn't overly loud when he usually speaks, but as he gets more and more up in volume, the sound becomes booming--and the Turkish accent really shows up and differentiates from the English.

He has short hair, cropped to military length, as well as pale eyes that are ever-watchful for threats. His body itself is not as scarred as one would assume: in fact, most of his scars are lower-body, or pale enough that they're almost impossible to see. He does, however, have one particularly striking scar on the centre of his chest. It spreads out from the middle in a star-shape and is a marginally different tone from the rest of the flesh.

PERSONALITY:
Darius is, for all intents and purposes, a man of few unnecessary words. He doesn't appreciate speaking out of line, and when he does it's only because he knows that he really needs to. Every word he speaks carries as much gravitas as the word before it, and he makes certain that his commanding presence is known to all who beholden him. He takes his position as Knight-Commandant very seriously, along with his position as a Templar itself: he believes that if anyone is to disturb the power and stature of the Templar Order, that they are an enemy and must be executed with haste. He is not a zealot, and will not strike down those that are innocent or uninvolved--but if one makes themselves known as a threat, he will not hesitate to finish them off with his own blade.

He knows the difference between right and wrong, yet he has never perceived them as situational. He believes that what he knows to be right is right, therefore anything else is wrong: anyone who attempts to prove him otherwise must be executed immediately. He doesn't believe all Demons evil, but he believes their existence abominable and therefore acknowledges that they must be purged from this world. He is not a religious man, and will likely never be as such. He knows and understands that there is a God, and he knows and understands that there is a Devil, and the afterlife--but he also knows that they will not impact on his work. He does not think he is doing 'God's work', but instead doing the work of Man--work that will cement their place as beings to be reckoned with for eternity. His belief is in the strength of Mankind and its devotion to survival, and he believes that the only way they'll be able to do that is with order and discipline. As such, he views Demon Hunters and Ritualists as potential threats to that balance that the Templars struggle to maintain.

He is also no politician. He solves problems with blade and fist, leaving all wordy issues to others who understand it better. He knows everything about the men who serve beneath him, and knows exactly whose strength complements others, using them as tools to their best advantages. He places value on a life based upon two things: Its use to him, or its use to society in general. If they are of no use to either then they are likely a child, elderly, or useless. If they are useless, then they should be culled. If they are a child, they must learn. If they are elderly, then they have done their service to humanity over their lifetime and deserve rest. He is a soldier through and through, and wants to die fighting with a sword in his hand. He will not turn his back to a worthy enemy. He will not stab an equal in the back. He will regard those who have defeated him with honor. Zeal should never take the place of honor.

Strategy, among other things, is a powerful tool in his arsenal. Although he may act slow, he is quite capable of perceiving the battlefield with a learned eye and relaying information back to his comrades as it is necessary. Nothing escapes his gaze, and if it has he considers it a foolish maneuver on his part, rather than enemy superiority. Although he will happily call someone his equal, he will never admit that he is inferior--to do so would give cause to weakness, and that is not what he must show. He must show that he is perfect to his men, and that if he loses he has merely slipped up and will still defeat his target. One enemy has gotten the better of him, and he continues to feel the pain of that loss to this day. He punishes weakness, especially when odds are in his favor: if one retreats while there is still a chance of victory, Darius is just as likely to cut you down as he is the Demon chasing you.

Darius is a man of little aspiration or ambition. He has no eyes on the top--he is occasionally surprised by the fact that he is as far up the echelon as he currently is. He admits that there are jobs that he is not suited for, and as such will not try for those kinds of jobs--he is very quick to allow subordinates to do jobs that he knows he cannot. He is the perfect soldier: he follows orders to the letter and doesn't question his superiors. When it comes to giving orders he is extremely specific; he hates ambiguity with a burning passion, even refusing to continue until he is given all of the information he requires. He states that 'knowledge is power', and that if he is to be powerful, he must have knowledge. If someone is hiding something from him, he will either hound them for it or accept that they (who are of a higher rank than he) have good reason and not pursue it. It will be one or the other--there is no in-between.

Darius honors the dead, whether they are ally or enemy. Even though Demons are an abomination, he realizes that they may feel similar things to humans involving life and death, or maybe even something stronger: he will speak a quiet prayer of them as he lets them go, asking their 'Lord' for forgiveness as he strikes them down. That is all the respect he grants Demons--but in his mind, it is enough.

As for love, Darius believes that it can happen. He has fallen in love, and been heartbroken as well--but as the years have gone on, he has come to believe that love will never occur for someone as battle-worn as he. Sex is not a sin in his book--but nor are most others, as he knows that he has broken far too many commandments to be forgiven. He wishes to find someone to care for him and to be able to care for... but he knows it to be too much to wish for.

HISTORY:
He was born in Istanbul, within a small hospital with few patients on a clear night. It was an arduous time for his mother, but his father--a pious man--would kneel by the window praying for the life of both his son and wife to be spared. As the night continued on, his wife's vital signs slowly dwindled, Adam Magnus continuing to pray for the safety and purity of his son. More and more he prayed. Closer and closer his wife grew to death, until suddenly he heard the sound of tears and silence. Turning around, he saw a child in the doctor's arms--the doctor holding him up to his mother's face and smiling. The woman held out a hand and touched it against the child's face; but it was only for a second, the last of her strength failing and her heart rate dropping to nothing. He named the child Darius, as every feature reminded him so much of his late wife.

Adam held a double life. He was, at heart, a man of God--but he was also a man of the Templars; he was not of high rank, but of high repute and respect amongst his peers. A man of the cloth for their church, he knew that his peers would accept someone they could make one of theirs--and he put that duty up for the role of raising his son. He moved to London, near one of the Tears, and put his son into their ranks. The child was passed from hand to hand as he grew; aging as lessons were drawn into him and he was trained--he was to be a soldier, but there weren't many lessons that could be taught to a soldier within a church.

As he grew into his early teens, they started to throw him into the wild. They flew him to deserted locations with a tracker on his ankle and left him there for several days; telling him merely to survive until they came back for him. On the first few trips he returned barely alive. On the fourth, he was weak--the fifth and sixth trips strengthened him and on the seventh he told them to leave him for longer. By the age of fourteen, he had become completely self-sufficient in the wild, having an almost instinctive knowledge of the plants and animals required to survive outside of civilization. But that wasn't enough.

They taught him how to fight. He was trained in various sword-styled martial arts. He was taught the basics of killing a man, and where to place the final blow to use as little energy as possible. He was given the basics on demonic physiology and the differences between them, as well as a general understanding of Soul Energy. Everything was rammed into his head, along with daily readings of The Art of War. However, this was just theory. He needed practice, and practice he would be given. He needed to know how it felt to really kill a man. Sent back to his native Turkey, he was thrown into the military--a special forces team was given a 17-year old to fight alongside them. Even as they all took their rifles, he was given only a broadsword and told to not use anything else. His first kill was something new to him. It unlocked something--a strange calmness that frightened even the seasoned soldiers as he cut swathes through men with merely a steel sword.  He took the most kills. He showed the most valor. Darius commanded his field team as if it were the only thing he knew; because it really was.

As a bred Templar, the church was all that he knew, yet he rejected their teachings daily. His father would question him on why he did not accept God, and yet all Darius would reply with was "because I am Man." The distance between he and his father grew by the day, and when that man grew ill, Darius did not stand by his bed. Adam questioned God, questioned the Devil, but did not question himself. He asked why his son was sick, but did not question himself. Darius' mind saw that as weakness; a man so focussed on others, not thinking about the being that did the thought--he executed his father in the depths of night, keeping tears and sadness to himself. "You were not a man, but a puppet that denied itself. You shall find peace in death." The body was burned upon a pyre, and Darius refused to answer any questions on the situation.

As he grew older, he started to rise further up the ranks--every mission he was put into became successful, every man he was partnered with survived thanks to him--he became known as the 'good luck charm' of the Knight-Templars. Out of all of his field missions, he only failed one: but this one was... different. He didn't fight a normal Demon, and he didn't fight that Demon with a team. As his men were slaughtered around him, he alone stood up against a rather... powerful Demon. He alone dared to fight. He alone survived, with a piercing hole in his chest. It was only by luck that he was found. They took him in, healed him and then let him go--but he had to shoulder that burden. It was that day that he decided to have his armor forged for him and him alone.

As he continued his work, his wearing the armor eventually granted him the moniker "Black Templar", and he not only became respected but almost feared. His rigorous devotion to his work and his general demeanour did nothing to help this reputation, and he took to it with little issue. At the age of 36, he took the top seat of the Knight-Templars: Knight-Commandant. He has not looked back since. He will never look back.


SKILLS:
- Superhuman physical strength. If we were to distinguish average human strength, without being under the influence of any Augments, Darius' strength would be triple, if not quadruple that of a normal human. NB: Superhuman does not exactly distinguish Darius to be lifting vehicles over his head. The average human his age can bench approximately 145 pounds a few times; Darius can bench 580.
- Emotional detachment allows for him to fight off any threat to the Order, no matter what.
- Sticks to a personal creed that allows him to be both totally destructive and yet pure and merciful at the same time.
- Is exceptionally difficult to kill under most circumstances.
- Has an outstanding land-charge speed. Is almost totally impossible to stop once he gets to full speed.
- Is highly strategic and quick-witted. Responds especially well to bad situations. Amazing survival skills.

WEAKNESSES:
- His reflexes have suffered greatly in most cases. Especially when wearing his armor, his battle reflexes are far slower than most. Don't let this fool you.
- Detachment doesn't always work--he's frequently haunted by visions of his past and the countless men that have fallen to his weapons.
- Is very black and white. People are either innocent or guilty, and he's not always correct in his assumptions--especially when he plays executioner.
- Has a tendency to over-swing with his blows, putting too much into the attack and destroying the target beyond the point of recognition, or worse--missing it.
- As stated, it's nigh impossible to stop him once he's charged without the correct technology; this applies to him as well.
- Is weak to any form of psychic manipulation.
- Often underestimates frail-looking opponents, and doesn't seem to realize that they could be capable of finding chinks in his armor.

COLOURS:
"English is my main language. I speak it with a light Turkish accent, holding onto heavy British undertones." (snow)
"Turkish is the language I was raised with, and the one I learned to fight alongside." (khaki)

TRIVIA:
- Can eat an entire pie in three bites.
- Likes kittens. Especially fluffy ones.
- Hates that he cannot hug and pet kittens due to his size. This may have contributed to his general grumpiness.
- He almost always carries a book with several creeds and vows within. He refuses to reveal why, or how he came across it.
- He tends to hit his head on low doors. He hates this with a burning passion.
- Doesn't know how many licks it takes to get to the centre of a Tootsie Pop, or why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Really wants to.
- Secretly admires the power of the Archdemons. Very secretly.





ALIAS:
Dai

OTHER CHARACTERS:
Sofia, Ba'al

ROLEPLAY HISTORY:
Give or take 7 years now

FACECLAIM:

Code:

[b]HOKUTO NO KEN[/b] :: [b]RAOH[/b]

CUSTOM RANK:
BURN THE HERETIC

Finished and bumping.

Stellar app bar one point that you did mention to me, but it must have passed me by; sorry, Dai:

1] Strength: Okay, so he can have Olympiad-tier strength, possibly peak Olympiad-tier, but it can't be superhuman UNLESS he enters Inferis.

Fix'd.

- Superhuman physical strength. If we were to distinguish average human strength, without being under the influence of any Augments, Darius' strength would be triple, if not quadruple that of a normal human. NB: Superhuman does not exactly distinguish Darius to be lifting vehicles over his head. The average human his age can bench approximately 145 pounds a few times; Darius can bench 580.