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Bowie, David Empty Bowie, David

Post by David Bowie on Fri May 17, 2013 2:17 pm


Bowie, David Wwkms6 Bowie, David Wwkms6Bowie, David Wwkms6
”You remind me of the babe. (what babe?)
The babe with the powah. (what power?)
Power of the voodoo (who do?)
You do! (do what?)
You remind me of the babe...”


- Vedillo Bianco di Giovanni (True Name)
- David Bowie (Alias)

- 753
- 66

- Quite male.
- Still pretty male.

- Italian
- English

- Roma, Italy
- Brixton, London

- Jan. 8, 1259
- Jan. 8, 1947

Bowie, David 80-54
Bowie, David Bd98389ea789f85e
Bowie, David Jareth_the_gobling_king_by_canntibal-d3elww0
Bowie, David The_Goblin_King_by_punkypeggy
Bowie, David The_Goblin_King_by_janey_jane



David is five-foot-ten, and looks about thirty, with long blonde hair. He was born with anisocoria and heterochromia of the eyes, which is why he has one normal pupil and one large pupil, as well as why one eye is crystalline blue, while the other is a coppery brown. If you look closely, his blue eye has faint markings on the iris; this is his sigil for Immortality. In terms of clothing and such, he tends to dress with a lot of flair and decoration, with glitter and sequins err'where. On the darker side of things, he wears a lot of makeup on his body, for the sole purpose of hiding seven centuries of scars, quite a few of which being mortally fatal; would do no good for people to see that he'd been beheaded before, or shot in the heart more than he can count. In intense action, however, his makeup comes clean and well... You can imagine how much he resembles a zombified Frankenstein, right?

Arrogant is usually the first word that comes to mind when most people within his inner circles think of him. Sure, on stage, and in public, and such, he's just a somewhat odd, but rather cool and awesome guy, but once you get to know him... Oy. He's a jerk, and makes that very painfully obvious. Everything has to be about him, and he is the undisputed king of the universe, and if you contradict him, you may have just signed your own death sentence. He's incredibly vain, rude, and selfish, and honestly couldn't care less about what you have to say to him. The world is his oyster, and I'm sorry, but since when do people share oysters? Exactly. Narcissism and vanity are quite prominent in his life, or should I say lives, as you may find. Particularly in his quest for fame... As you can see, his life has been a constant obsession with obtaining more fame, in many areas, from theater to writing, from philosophy to music, going to such lengths as forming and playing a role in the MI6 agency, and finally breaking into international renown as a musician and actor.

He is also incredibly jealous of others, to an extreme. Should he see that somebody has something he wants, he will do what he can to take it. If, as they say, envy is a green-colored sin, then he is an emerald. As it is, his greatest desires are always that which is out-of-reach, beyond his grasp, and he hates all those that possess it. On a similar note, he also struggles with lust and greed, the other two of three deadly sins of desire. While he wants what he lacks more than that which is available, he also wants everything that is available. If he can get money somehow, he will; if he can seduce someone, he will. His life must be that which is perfect, that which has the most things; materialistic to a T.

And he is whimsical; extravegant, he does what suits him best, disregarding others entirely, and indeed, oftentimes disregarding his own schedule or otherwise quite important things to do. He is impulsive, and potentially has ADHD, never quite calm, never quite idle, and always doing something. Another thing is that he suffers Bipolar Disorder. He switches between intense mania and an eerie, overly morbid and sadistic, state of mind, outwardly calm, but inwardly in overdrive, plotting. Lastly, all things considered, he suffers Antisocial Personality Disorder, if that wasn't already inherently obvious. By DSM-IV definition, he lacks the capacity to emotionally empathize with others; he knows they have emotions, and indeed, has become quite skilled at reading and manipulating them, but their emotions don't trigger any of the usual instinctive reactions in him. To put it quite simply, he just doesn't care. He also seems to lack any form of shame, regret, or guilt, except in very rare circumstances, and even then it is only a feeling of depression that he has failed to accomplish something. In the end, however, he doesn't think of human life, nor demon life, as anything more than an umbrella; useful when able, it shields him from his troubles and those of the world; broken, it is easily discarded and forgotten, move on to the next one.

Given that David is currently possessed by Legion, his demon's personality is... Odd, at best. Or should I say, personalities? In being possessed by Legion, Legion placed within him around 50-100 portions of his being, a meager number when one considers his awesome powers. The basics of Legion's personality hold true; they love entertainment and to be entertained, hence why several of Bowie's personae have been entertainers. They also hate idleness, and David can't be doing nothing, lest the voice(s) within his head drone on about what they want to do, what they want him to do. Much like David, they are whimsical, and do as they please, using him to do so. In addition, they like to obtain knowledge, and are very secretive by nature and whatnot.

But you know all of that already, or should, if you read up on Legion. You must consider, however; 100 souls, separated from Legion, to an extent, and kept within the confines of a completely independent being. These souls have been changed and differ slightly from the rest of Legion; for one, they are sadistic, far moreso than even David, at his best. They enjoy psychological torture, and relish in the manipulation of others, particularly their fear. Where David is be the master of manipulation, these souls are the grandmasters, the ones who take his normal manipulative nature and amplify it up to eleven. And indeed, this holds true for the entirety of his personality, as well; when Legion is in control of his body, on the rare occasions they take rein, everything is tenfold. His mood swings, already fairly extreme, morph from those of Bipolar Disorder to hyper-mania and a world-loathing rage, back and forth at even shorter intervals. Thus, he tends to avoid letting Legion take hold, though when it does, there's nothing he can do to fight it.


Vedillo di Giovanni the Crusader (1259-1374): For a being of such magnificence and extraordinary ability to do so much, it seems laughable, a joke of fate, that David Bowie, presently a man of great esteem and fame, even though that public appearance is but the very top of the iceberg's tip, would be born as but a mere Roman peasant. His mother a harlot, his father unknown, he was brought into this world in a back alley of a dirty street, and grew up in extreme poverty. And as such, he grew, begging for coins from the age of nine. He was a lowly creature, often mocked and laughed at, spit on by the people around him. It seemed that he was never to have anything in life, and was destined to die a sad and lonely death, dreading the day his mother died and left him with nobody at all. Thankfully, he never had to see or hear tale of that, although he did assume later that she had died, as was only logical, with a tinge of sorrow and regret. But at that time, he was a young man of fifteen, and it was high time for him to join the order of the Vatican's soldiers of the lord; they had need for men to fight in the Crusades, and he would draw a blade and shield as well as any other.

He was a quite fit applicant, having grown up on the rough streets of Rome, having to fight for every scrap of bread he'd ever eaten, having learned quick that a defenseless child was easy prey for those who swooped in to take his hard-begged treasures, his meager collection of coins that sustained him and his mother through the week, if only barely. He'd never before even so much as heard the word of God, but for a few eavesdropped preachings he'd heard, before being shooed away, as he wasn't considered fit to hear. But he needed money, and for money, he needed work. He could fight, it was something. And so he did, fighting in some of the most brutal battles of any man's life for a full ten years, a record that earned him respect as a very valiant warrior with shield and sword.

But ten years in, a new face showed up amongst the men. A younger lad, by the name of D'Angelo Cortese. He'd been handpicked by the men of the Vatican to be sent out with the rest of them in battle, and Vedillo was among the first to welcome the kid into their ranks, going so far as to say he'd befriended him. He saw a bit of himself in the boy's eyes, despite coming from two vastly different backgrounds. They fought many a good fight together, they did. In fact, during one of these battles, Vedillo was hacking down an enemy soldier when the archers arrived. Ferocity in their eyes, and mercy as far from their hearts as could be, they let lose a brutal and cruel strike, crippling him with ten arrows to the left knee at once, instantly putting him out of service. They'd have finished him off, they would have, had he not managed to crawl away before they could draw more arrows with which to smite him.

How could this be!? A mighty warrior, very nearly a god of war, simply felled by some cowardly archers!? Madness! In rage and pain and desperation, he called out to God, or the old gods, or just to anything or anyone who'd care to answer his prayers, as he very nearly went to tears. "AUUUUUUUUGGGGHHHH!!! I BESEECHETH THEE, O BEING OF POWER GREAT, GIVETH ME AN ARMY'S STRENGTH, LEST MINESELF PERISH OF THESE CURRISH ARROWS, O WOE BE ON ME... TAKETH PITY ON THIS POOR PAUPER, I PRIVYETH THEE!" Many heard his great cries of anguish, yet none seemed to care; his ten years of service were for naught; he was another dead man to them. But he head a voice in response: "8δη3 о/_туртв ユトシミトユシアトナ фапу/"ва8σβση3 LEGION." To this day, he still has no idea what it meant. But he felt a powerful presence in his body after nodding along with whatever it said. As it was, the Archdemon, Legion, had possessed him, and he felt his battered body rise, marching forward to the shock of the archers, who impaled him with ever more arrows, as he slowly, out of his own control, cut all ten men down. As he did so, though, his willpower and resolve had returned, and in a most impressive display of sheer determination, he managed to wrest control of his body from whatever had controlled him. Oddly, it seemed to still be there... But he blacked out, and all he recalled before then was hearing the voice again; "What of us do you wish?" A simple question, and a simple answer, as he faded from consciousness:

"I don't want... to die..." And so it was, is, and shall be. Immortality. A great power, indeed.

"And with that power came great understanding.... You may have our power but you will be our agent on this earth for now and forever more!" And as he blacked out, he recalled nodding ever so slightly.



I woke up in a strange place. It was a land of fire and brimstone, with red and blackened skies, and it seemed to be Vatican City, but it wasn't the Vatican. It was... It was wrong, all wrong... And Vedillo noticed something else... he wasn't himself. He was much taller, solid white, with red tentacles emerging from his back, writhing, but they felt... strangely natural. He was wearing the garb of a prince, fine silk robes and the bronze helmet of a Roman Legionnaire, the most elite of the elite. In front of him was a similar man, but wearing something much stranger; it was black cloth, but it didn't cover his chest, which was covered in thin white cloth, which had a dangling piece of cloth hanging over it. How peculiar... The thing then began to explain to him where he was, and why he was there.

He had called out for help, prayed for relief from his wounds, and asked not to die. This man before him, who revealed themselves to actually be quite a number of individuals, had answered his request, sending a piece of their impressive conjoined body into him, originally just to humor him. But as it thought things over, it decided that, in its quest for knowledge, Legion needed a human agent to work for it, and had thus allowed him the powers of its form, but his own thoughts, on conditions that he serve it, even as he serves others, so long as he procures knowledge for the Great Library of Legion, during his Earthly travels. That was the sole reason he was allowed to live. And he was okay with that. A life that never ends, filled with sampling all of Earth's wares? What could be better!

And so he returned from this so-called "Inferis", and returned to his position as a Crusader, a soldier. It seemed to be a dream, almost. A pretty good dream, really, aside from the creepiness and the high octane nightmare fuel, whatever that was, since TV Tropes wasn't a thing in 1286. But he did have a mission in life now; he studied the finer arts of combat with vigor, learning all of the most modern techniques, then went on to learn tactics, diving into even the most obscure of sources, in his quest to attain knowledge, the more the merrier.

But as he grew in age, older and older, though always youthful in appearance, such that he eventually had to hide his face and walk as if hobbled, to deter suspicion, he came to realize he couldn't just keep a facade of incredibly longevity like this; people would grow suspicious. Besides, those others in his life that he cared about had gone by like dust on the wind; his mother has presumably died perhaps decades ago, D'Angelo has stabbed himself to death after his wife's death, and even Pope Nicholas IV had faded into death along the way. Many would have regretted immortality for this; the curse to live while others perished, never able to keep loved ones around you forever. But the contrary! The ageless man saw it as an opportunity, a chance to begin anew. And thus, he devised a new name, a new alias, and a new life for himself: by 1374, ninety years after becoming immortal, he was reborn as Gitto Martini.

Giotto Martini the Minstrel (1374-1435): The newly named man called Giotto, as it was, took an interest in both music and the world. He began to study the vielle, the gemshorn, the panflute, the lute, the lyra, and even took up a new machine, the "organ" as they called it. He studied diligently under many great troubadors, learning the trade of music quite well. With a mastery of many instruments, he chose to become a bard, and so he travelled the mighty nation of Europe, thoroughly examining each and every city of importance that he could gain access to, all the while playng his music.

This alter-identity was quite a helpful one, in terms of impact on his current alias, as he began studying music so early, and continued the trade. Another great aspect of this was his constant journeying, all the while making love to the fair ladies he came by on the road. By estimation, he impregnated thirty-one women in his day, quite an impressive record, and it is believed that he is the common ancestor of somewhere near 100,000,000 people throughout Europe. He boasts this record over Mr. White's measly 4,000,000, despite the fact those are White's alleged CHILDREN, rather than 40-greats grandchildren or something. Which means by LOGIX, eventually White will beat him in terms of descendants... No matter! After a fairly long stint as Giotto, becoming minorly known in some areas, he decided to settle down in Italy once more, under the new name of Leon Botticelli.

Leon Botticelli the Composer (1435-1508): As Leon Botticelli, he decided to take some time to go further into the musical rabbithole, and he began to study musical theory and composition. It was still a developing art at the time, but new systems of notations were being developed and things were looking better and better, each and every day. He learned how to compose, how to transpose, and how to write lyrical prose, as he grew older and older.

It was during this time that he came into contact with his creative side, writing a great many melodies, penning a number of songs about the crusades, in tribute to the fallen heroes who were no longer with him. In fact, even today he is known by niche historians in love with medieval music as the Crusading Composer, writing such works as "Ballad of Innocent III" and a series of brief lyrical summaries of "La Divina Comedia" and its many cantos. He was progressively becoming more and more known in the world, and he liked it. As he aged on, he soon discarded the composer's guise, cotented with it, and took on the name of Michel de Ronsard, moving from Italy to France, a land of great culture.

Michel de Ronsard the Artist (1508-1590): Having gone to France, Michel began to study art. It was a brand new avenue for him, having spent his last century and a half or so on music. He took on apprenticesips to several artists of the Baroque movement, in addition to many other more classically styled artists. He began to sketch, and from sketching came drawing, from drawing came painting, from painting came ever more complex styles of painting. He then took up other arts; sculpting, bronzework, pottery, tailoring, and even fell back on his musical knowledge as a luthier, crafting the finest lutes in France at one point or another.

This era was one that brought national fame to him, at long last; for a short period, his paintings of King Charles IX were displayed in Paris, much to his delight, as that would expose him to much of the French populos. Quite an honor, it was, a privelage. For them, of course; it was an honor and a privelage to stand before his great work! And they continued to do so, long after Michel de Ronsard "died," only to be replaced in the undying superman's eyes; replaced by Everard Assinius.

Everard Assinius the Philosopher (1590-1661): It was at this time in history, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, that Everard made his move from France to England, in order to contemplate the true meaning of life. It was there that he became known as a scholar, a thinker, and he scoured the nation, studying the words and works of a variety of philosophers, his personal favorite being Diogenes of Greece. Throughout this time, he went on to publish a series of essays, now known as "Everard's Consensus on the Subject of Death and Dying." Essetially, it was a 563 page document, covering all aspects of what it means to well and truly die, and even covered- to his own amusement, as no others could enjoy the irony but he- the myth of immortality. It provided quite a fresh outlook on living forever, and the benefits of doing so. All hypothetical, of course.

Leaving quite a mark on London's scholarly minds for many decades to come, Everard is most famously quoted as having quipped, "And should all things begin and end, as is said, then what of life? None recall birth, and none can describe death; the past and the future are unheard of! We live in the present, and in that case, what truly is life, but the seconds between the womb and the tomb? What of those born of the womb, who never see the tomb, however?" However, even then he hadn't yet gained any more than national fame of his time, although this work would be renowned far more than his art or musical works, regarded by various scholars even today, and is occasionally taught in Philosophy classrooms. The life of a humble thinker done, the man who is anything but humble went on to the next life; Geoffrey Hobbes.

Geoffrey Hobbes the Poet (1661-1747): It was in the time of Charles II that he took on yet another profession to last him a many year; he took up a pen as a poet, a lyrical writer of words. In doing so, he researched deeply into the world of poetry, becoming well acquainted with the works of Shakespeare, whom he'd in fact had tea with as Everard, and wrote well-inspired poems, taking into his style Shakespeare, Virgil, and a personal favorite of his, Dante Aligherri, a man who'd lived and died in the same time period that he had walked Italy as a soldier. With his pen, he came to be known as a fine post-Shakespearian writer.

At this point, he had gained small international fame, his works enjoyed by the scholars of England, Italy, France, and even a few men of nobility in the new colonies of the West. It was a great benchmark in his life of upward-spiralling fame, and he wears it proudly. He had left a lasting impression on history then, and it was a success to him. But, alas, time went on, and it was soon time for another identity, lest he grow bored. His next great persona was Bartholomew Kay!

Bartholomew Kay the Actor (1747-1850): During the kingship of George II, Bartholomew, far older than he once was, decided to switch fields of interest yet again, never satisfied with a single thing, never spending too much time on one mastery. At this point in his life, he took an interest in theater, much like Shakespeare had done, mixing poetry and playwrite like a proper prosist is prone to pen. He deigned, however, not to write the plays, but to perform them.

He took on a many great roles as Bartholomew Kay, finally breaking into fame's top 1%, becoming known as one of the finest actors in some of the most famous dramas of the time. For some time, his name was a household term, and he relished it, like a fine glass of Scotch. But as all things came to end, such did his stay as Kay; he took on a new name, a name that would finally break into true legacy; Ciel Phantomhive.

Ciel Phantomhive the Noble (1850-1947): DISCLAIMER: I may have potentially molested history in order for this section of history to work properly.

For centuries, Ciel had, in his many aliases, done much, yet something was missing. He had never been a member of the aristocracy. No matter how much wealth and fame he acquired, he was always upper-class at best, but never in that most distinguished caste of society, the nobility of the English shores. It was the time of Victoria, and he had set out to become a nobleman; for this, he's have to get in good with the queen. For this, he weaseled his way through the ranks of society, paying the right people the right amounts, making the right friends, making the right enemies, and eventually, he was notorious as a clever man who served the Queen like a rook, pressing forward and sundering the forces of all who opposed. He was soon invited to tea with the good lady herself.

It was during this tea time that he and her had a close connection- he'd obviously studied up on her as best as possible, and made some lucky assumptions; anything to claw his way into her good graces to be given a title, a rank. He wanted to be known, he wanted a castle, a crown, a throne. He soon realized that an earlhood, a knighthood, they were but titles; he could have more. He could be king.

He spent much time with Victoria, as much as possible, and one day, had convinced her into the bedchamber, for a night of passion. Eventually, however, they grew less close, further and further away, and it pained him to say it but he couldn't bear it. He'd let himself get too deep in the act, he'd become emotionally attached to his mere pawn. He'd meant to use her, but in the end, he'd been abused. She'd left him for another... Albert.

Always a man of action and goals, he would not tolerate this incredible spite of him. He went to work, plotting and scheming, and eventually set his plan in motion. As Albert slept, he managed to sneak into his room and poisoned him with a very slow, but potent, toxin. Highly lethal, highly delayed, and highly discreet. It would seem to be illness that killed him, while Ciel visited the states, forging his alibi. Soon enough, the Prince was dead, and David had a chance once more to be king, but moreso, to be with his one beloved, one of the incredibly few that he ever truly loved. But it was not so...

After her husband died, she became very depressed, cutting herself off from the world, and he didn't know how to feel about it. Guilt? Shame? Anger? Sorrow? Satisfied? He had to take a break from her, becoming involved in the British military's intelligence departments, as he waited for her to return as she was, but she had grown old, unlike him, and when she finally left this Earth, it tore his heart in two. For the first time in centuries, nay, since the day he was granted it, he hated his immortality; his ability to succeed everybody, the fact he had outlived the only one he could ever love, and the fact that if he ever died, he wouldn't join her in paradise, destined only for a devil's Hell. He could never love again; from that day forth, he renounced the very existance of love. There was no love, only use, abuse, and detached sex. A truly empty world...

But he had to get past it. He didn't sink into depression, he pressed on. Like he'd always done, he pressed on. He became linked to a project that established an intelligence agency the likes of which the world had never seen, and indeed, wouldn't see until the late 20th century. His were among the first eyes that saw the light of MI-6, and he took the rank of 002. And, for the first time in history, he revealed his greatest secret. The upper tier of agents were made aware of his immortality, and it was kept on that need-to-know basis. It was also around this time, allegedly, that he came into contact with a man called Mr. White, within MI-6. He'd been in a few other international agencies, and was... Well, a psychopath, as far as he could tell. But he also became one of Ciel's closest frie- erm... Tools. In his plans. Yeah. At any rate, it came time for the Phantomhive to die. But for once, not everything ended... Then rose the most famous of his aliases: David Bowie was born.

David Bowie the Man Who Sold the World (1947-Present): He remained in MI-6 after he became David Bowie, but he wanted fame. He was powerful, yes, he had money, yes, and he held the world in the palm of his hands. But he wanted more. The ultimate fame. He broke into the music industry of the modern world; he learned to play modern instruments, and he culminated everything from his past lives together, until he began rocking the world, as if he were playing Life in a New Game Plus+ mode, entering from scratch with everything he needed that others fought so hard to gain before the reaper came for them.

In order to achieve fame, he broke into popular music, producing hits galore, and as the industry changed, he adapted. He changed to match the world, then changed the world to match him. But it wasn't enough. He could tour Earth, yes, that was well and good. He needed more. He was greedy, he was a glutton for glory. He entered Inferis, and started from the bottom. He played nightclubs, where intelligent demons gathered to rave and gorge themselves in food, booze, and sex. Over time, he managed to conquer the music scene of Inferis, where there was one. But his goals were set even higher, and he aims for the highest of fames, the most glorious of glories.

To be standing in the hall of fame... the one place none would expect him to be... the final frontier, the last place untainted by his touch... Heaven.


Well, David is notoriously difficult to work with, due to his constant compulsion to seek out new and more interesting things, discarding the old like broken playthings. But as for the moment, and the past century or so, he's been a high-ranking member of MI-6.

- Immortal; he cannot physically die by any means short of destroying the archdemon, Legion, or removing him from his body by whatever means..
- Charismatic; he is a well known charmer. Good with the ladies. And the men. And everyone else.
- Intelligent; he clearly knows many a thing or two, but even more than that, he is also both clever and wizened by age.
- Deceptive; he may have a silver tongue, but that tongue is laced in cyanide. He can tell a blatant lie, and not only will it seem genuine, you'll want to believe it's genuine, if only to continue listening to that magical voice.
- Manipulative; he is incredibly skilled at manipulating others, as well as manipulating events. He is a grandmaster of speedchess, as well as king of the Xanatos Gambit, though never at the same time; that'd be so tacky and classless...
- Amoral; he has no qualms with any sort of moral issue; he'd gladly blow a small child's face off with a shotgun, just as gladly as he'd toss that child's mother in front of an on-coming train, if it met his fancy.
- Marksman; he has mastery of quite a few ranged weapons, though in particular, he quite loves crossbows, longbows, and pistols. Most preferred is a pair of handcrossbows, and he always carries a Five-Seven on his person.
- Musical; he is a renowned singer, but also plays the harmonica, piano, guitar, saxophone, violin, cello, stylophone, and a chainsaw. He taught Jackyll how to play the chainsaw, in fact.
- Authority; as a Double-0 agent, and a founding MI-6 member, he can use his leverage to his advantage.
- Wealth; as a celebrity, he has a lot of money, and can afford nice things.
- Crystal Balls; he keeps a satchel of crystal balls on hand. For throwing them at people when bored.
- Glitter; he keeps an almost inhuman quantity of glitter on his person at all times. No reason as to why.
- Jumping; he is quite skilled at jumping, magic jumping.
- Dancing; he is quite skilled at dancing, magic dancing.
- Baby-slapping; he is quite skilled at slapping babies, especially in order to make them freak.
- Flexible; he is a master contortionist. How else would fit into his magic pants?
- Omniglot; he can speak nine languages, which is fairly impressive.

- Strength; his strength is increased, within normal human limitations, to that of a professional bodybuilder.
- Speed; his speed is increased, within normal human limitations, to 20 mph.
- Pain Threshold; his ability to tolerate pain is increased, partially due to his ability to survive any attack, and the fact he HAS survived many attacks, to the point that he doesn't feel minor wounds. Plus, he's kinky and strange, and something of a masochist sometimes.
- Slow Regeneration; he has a very limited and slow regeneration. Should he lose an arm, it wouldn't regen for at least a few years, of course, but it would regen. Minor wounds tend to heal thrice as fast, while mortally fatal wounds can take much longer, depending on the severity.

- Vulnerable; considering he IS just a mere mortal, he can be harmed in many normal human ways. Like stabbing, and the fact he's allergic to bullets, like most others. Kinda. He also can't really heal from things like, oh I don't know, BEING NUKED IN THE FACE. Yet.
- Arrogant; he's incredibly cocky, and will overconfidently assume that he's clearly the superior being over everyone else.
- Vain; he's concerned only with himself, and will fret and panic about things as insignificant as his hair being messed up during battle, or bloodstains on his new shoes. Can also be tricked with flattery.
- Envious; he not only wants and wants, but he wants what he can't have most of all. Offer him something someone else has, that he lacks the ability to own, and you have his attention. Will also become distracted by such things.
- Lazy; he normally just can't be bothered to do anything, unless it peaks his interest. He'd much rather lay in bed and be pampered as a king than lift a finger to do- Heavens forbid!- actual work.
- Lustful; he can be easily seduced, as easily as he can seduce others; teasing and flirting will put him off his guard quite quickly.
- Greedy; he loves money, cars, pearls, diamonds, rubies, and those other things from that one song by Dead or Alive. He also loves Dead or Alive, but that's unrelated. Offer him EVEN MORE WEALTH, and he will gladly pull a heel-face,a face-heel, and has even once pulled a heel-face-heel-chicken-face-heel-sandwich-heel-face turn. For a chicken sandwich. Do not question it.
- Wrathful; he is quick to anger, and once properly angered, he will attack aggressively, without even trying to defend himself. Giving the fact he is immortal, this is understandable; given the fact he's not INVINCIBLE, this is a bad thing.
- Extravagant; Rule of Cool. Just Rule of Cool. If it isn't awesome, sexy, or classy, no matter how much he needs it, he won't use it. Likewise, he will do many things that are awesome, sexy, or classy, despite the fact that those things are detrimental to tactics, logic, or just him in general.
- Easily Bored; he quickly becomes bored of things, and it is hard to sate his appetite for novelty; in the middle of a fight, he may just stop, at the drop of a dime, and ask you out to brunch.
- Easily Distracted; well, he could be doing something incredibly dangerous, that requires much precision and concentra- OOH,  A PENNY! 8DDDD
- Only Human; as he is also vulnerable to most human weaknesses, he is also limited to only human abilities; he can't do anything truly special, he just can't die.
- Fruit; he is terrified of bananas, even moreso than he is afraid of pointed sticks. DON'T MAKE FUN OF THIS FEAR! WE'LL SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT WHEN A MADMAN COMES TO YOUR HOUSE WITH SOME LOGANBERRIES!
- Berserk Button; there are many things you just DON'T. DO. One of these is speak of the Crusades in his presence, as he still has some rather strong opinions on the whole shebang himself.
- Amorality; he may not care about others, or really, anything, but this also bears consequence; not many people are going to like the guy who continuously Shoots The Dog.
- Fame; he is famous, which has MANY negative connotations; it's a time-consuming job, for one, but also he has to deal with assassination attempts (much more numerous than you'd think), the paparazzi, and screaming adoring fans.
- Anachronistic; given his age, he still prefers to use crossbows over modern weapnry. He is also a bit confused by some modern technology.
- Monologue; he loves to gloat. If presented the chance, he will break the code of the Magnificent Bastard, if only in order to talk about himself. Of course, he's not an idiot, and will ensure the person he's gloating at can't escape whil he's gloating. Usually by shooting them in the face. Which means yes, he talks to dead people, technically.
- Childish; he's prone to childish fits of pickiness, whininess, and overall just throwing temper tantrums and demanding he have what he wants, when he wants it. If he doesn't get his way, he gets angry. VERY angry.
- Dueling; he has a bad habit of accepting challenges to duels. A duel is so much classier than a battle though... Still, losing to Andrew Jackson IS something nobody ELSE can brag about, so it's worth it.
- Bill Cosby; the image of Bill Cosby causes him to itch uncontrollably, and his eyes will melt. Truefax.
- Song Covers; he can be incapacitated by playing a cover of any one of his songs backwards on the accordian. It will cause his limbs to implode, before his brain sets itself on fire. Nobody knows why.
- Haystacks; you know how haystacks soften your landing in Assassin's Creed? Yeeeeeeaah. He's allergic to haystacks, somehow.
- Fire; due to all the hair products in his hair, and the flammable glitter he uses, he can be set on fire easily. By like, a cigarette.
- Water; Water will ruin his hair and clothing, and especially his makeup. NOT COOL, MAN, NOT COOL.
- Sampson's Hair; much like Sampson's hair gave him power, his own hair, when cut, will cause him to bleed from every pore on his body, and causes him agonizing pain until it grows back, or short hair becomes a more styllish look on him.
- Edward's NO. ARMSTRONG'S sparkles; should he stop glittering and glowing, he will mope in depression for a long period of time, hating everything and everyone. Well, more than he already does.
- Llamas; paranoid that llamas can shoot lazars out of their faces, and thus has a crippling fear of them.
- Hipsters; hipsters are the natural enemy of David Bowie, and as such, he will go far out of his way to eliminate them, as they do to him.
- Achilles Heel; the one sure method of killing him is to kill Legion, then stabbing him in the face or something.
- Teenage Girl Tears; the tears of teenage girls slice into his skin like acidic razor blades. It doesn't help that he enjoys making teenage girls cry, as a hobby.
- Contemporary Pop Music; contemporary pop music can burst his eardrums, as well as electrocuting him, as his brain attempts to process it.
- Accordions; he can't play the accordion, as it stands for everything he hates in the world. He's extremely jealous of Weird Al Yankovic, who CAN play the accordion, and does so better than he could.

Regular!David speaks Latin (Vulgar), Latin (Formal), Italian, English (British), German, Japanese, French, Arabic, and Demonic.


- He's the One True Goblin King.
- His religion is Bowieism, and he is the deity, high priest, and Anti-David of this. His congregation is every being in and out of existence.
- His last alias was Ciel Phantomhive, a Victorian-Age Earl. He later wrote a biography of this alias, and had it made into a manga, but he exaggerated EVERYTHING, until Black Butler happened. Truefax.
- The only similarities between his last alias and Ciel, from Black Butler, are the name and the fact both were heterochromatic. He didn't even get the eye colors right, though...
- Has a notable dislike of the current Queen of England, often muttering angrily that "I wish ol' Vicky hadn't kicked it..."
- Once had sex with; a Giggling Tulip (four times, in fact; it didn't know why it kept letting him sex it, but it wanted it), Queen Victoria, George Washington, Adolf Hitler, multiple trees of many types, Joseph Stalin, Karl Marx, Ted Bundy (raped Ted twice, in fact), Napolean Bonaparte, Marilyn Monroe (who HASN'T hit that!?), Monica Leuwenski, George Carlin, Joan of Arc, Andrew Jackson, Madonna, Ludwig van Beethoven, Bill Clinton, Mr. White's prized petunias, Janis Joplin, and five Popes of uncertain identity. Has made advances towards both Lucifer and Asmodeus, but was rejected by both. Also participated in some Legion-orgies, because why not?
- Suffers from PTSD, and still has strong and vivid flashbacks of the Crusades. Though, after THAT long, he's not as affected by them.
- He used to be an adventurer like you. Until he took an arrow to the knee...
- Later regaled Bethesda Software's president/leaderperson with this tale of arrows to the knee; and thus, Skyrim was born.
- Currently married, though his wife, and both children, are currently parts of Legion, as some of his many Earthly eyes and ears.
- Found Waldo as a baby, has photographic evidence of this. Told the annoying brat that he was playing hide-and-seek with him. Never went seeking; thus starting the legend of Waldo. Carmen Sandiago, on the other hand...
- In 1905, met a man named Grigori. He was really bored that day, honestly, and wanted to see what would happen if he shared a bit of his immortality; granted Rasputin immortality. Nine years later, after much deep thought, he realized that nobody else should be blessed with immortality, and he didn't want to be HALF as immortal anyways, despite the fact he was still the same amount immortal anyhow. So after being poisoned with ten times a lethal dose of cyanide, shot repeatedly, stabbed, and drowned in freezing cold water, Bowie casually strolled up and took back his immortality; poor guy died right then, hypothermia and "Death by Dying." Tsk, tsk, tsk...



Goblin King Jayreth!

Oh, and um... The other four I play. D||


- Human Form
- Inferis Morph


Last edited by David Bowie on Sun Jun 23, 2013 1:54 am; edited 8 times in total
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Bowie, David Empty Re: Bowie, David

Post by Lazarus Carter on Fri May 31, 2013 7:24 pm

Is this ready/do you have enough posts?


"Wipe the blood from your halo."

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Bowie, David Empty Re: Bowie, David

Post by Reverend Smith on Fri May 31, 2013 9:42 pm

Nein, need twelve more, methinks.


Bowie, David Sig_zpsd0879bd9
The Rev speaks his native Dutch (Green), as well as British English (Yellow), Latin (Pink), Russian (Orange), West Frisian (Lawngreen), Japanese (Darkblue), and German (Blue)

Standard Prayer of the Slain:
"Now I lay you, down to death, I pray the Lord, you'll be at rest, in death atoned, you are at ease, I pray the Lord, that he be pleased. Amen."
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Bowie, David Empty Re: Bowie, David

Post by Lazarus Carter on Sun Jun 23, 2013 2:10 am




"Wipe the blood from your halo."

|| English (yellowgreen) || Demon (dodgerblue) ||

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