The Abraxas Brood

Name: Archon Kai Abraxas

Gender: Male , 2nd Born

Design: #3


Personality: Hellfire could not have created a finer specimen of a demi-god. The world is at the young prince's claws, his to take and destroy at his leisure. He follows in the footsteps of the true god; his father. Amon had instilled in the prince that he is a creature of divine creation, one who is meant to spread his influence upon this mortal world until his time comes to return to their true kingdom.

Discipline rules the boy's world and it is discipline that will help him ascend to rule his own kingdom one day soon. He follows his father's orders without question, hesitation something he has never known. There is no line he is not willing to cross if his father commanded him to do so. He has taken it upon himself to become the perfect soldier. He pushes himself to his limits and then surpasses them in order to please his father.

But do not take him for a mindless robot for he has his own ambitions, bigger than being his father's perfect war machine. He seeks to learn all he can from the god, to take what his father has done and surpass him. He works to become a god in his own right, perhaps even outshine his father. For the time being he plays the role that his father wants him to play, but it is a role that he looks to cast away when the time comes. His loyalty will always lie with his father and his family, but he hold no quarrels with taking them out of the picture in order to reach his goals.  

Emotions have no sway over him, at least not the ones that make mortals weak. He feels no remorse and is void of sympathy or empathy. Those types of emotions are reserved for the weak hearted mortals, not gods like himself and his family. He knows love, though in his mind love comes in the form of loyalty. Perhaps once upon a time, when his mother had still been with him, he'd known some form of love, but that seemed like an entirely different life. Harsh words and even physical abuse register as caring to the hellish prince.  Cruelty, though not a frequent hobby of is, has become something that he has come to enjoy. Exploring new ways of torture is how he keeps himself busy when training with his father has been completed.

Plans: Essentially, I see him becoming like Amon, if not better (or worse, depending on how you look at it). He'll be taking pages out of his father's book (if not the entire book itself) to use in order to put himself at the top. He may even go so far as to challenge Amon one day to a death match, in order to eliminate any sort of challenge to his ambitions. He may or may not be wrestling with deeply buried feelings about his mother. Trying to decide if I want him to know that his father killed his mother (he followed amon, or saw something that led him to believe his father had killed her) or not, though leaning more towards having him know so that he has something that drives his secret hatred towards his father.

RP Sample: Russet blood soaked paws drummed against the moistened earth, leaving bloodied prints that mixed with the muddied dirt. Turquoise eyes flitted from the dark figure of his father to the path ahead, the organ in his chest pounding wildly against its confines. His father had pulled him aside after training had finished and he'd sent away his littermates, asking him to follow. Archon had not dared ask why his father was taking him away or to where, he simply bowed his head in acknowledgement and trailed after his sire. He hadn't cared to ask if he could first clean himself up, a sneaking suspicion telling him that he was about to get even more filthy, to which he held no objections.

The pair moved silently across the darkening land. Hues of amethyst and orange painted the sky, the waning sun rays straining to keep their hold on the land before nightfall came and swept them away. The day's training replayed in the prince's head, though he was careful to keep his attention on his father, in case the man had something to say to him. Not a single word slipped from the beast's dark lips, just the wordless command to follow him that came from a single ear swiveled back in his direction. They reached the lip of a hill, his father stopping at the edge of it, his son automatically stopping at his side. He looked to Amon, following the eyes that looked just like his, gazing down to an open field below. His gaze took in two shapes, both lupin, one significantly larger than the other. He observed them for a moment, realizing that the pair was a mother and her pup. He could tell the smaller figure was a pup from the way it stumbled behind its mother, gait uncoordinated and clumsy. Something deep in him stirred, something that he chose to ignore and stuff in the farthest recess of his mind. But before he could dwell on whatever it was, his father spoke. Kill them. Two simple words, heavy with the implication that there was no room for failure. Failure did not become perfection. He wasted no time answering, leaping down from the hill, powerful haunches launching the hellion forward as he charged towards his prey, a malicious grin spreading his blood soaked lips. Yes father.