Mega Asshole Duo
Posts : 2025
Join date : 2011-11-12
Age : 22
Location : Dream Weavers
|Subject: [WEI I P] ~~~~ <3 Sun Jun 09, 2013 11:02 pm|| |
Size: Approx. 40ft
Weight: Approx. 16 tons
Eyes: Beady and black, encased in stone sockets. No eyebrows, but he can maneuver the stone to squint, furrow and expression general emotions. He also has a smooth, film over the eyes for protection from sand and dirt, and eyelids of stone that extend from the bottom of his eyes up.
Ears: Two rock half circles on his head, with hundreds of small pores large enough for maybe a small mouse to get through.
Nose: Two nose that serve as nostrils several feet above his jaw and positioned just slightly below the center of his face.
Jaw: Large and square, made of thick rock and hinged at the condyle. If he loses his jaw he is unable to use his ability, and bleeds massive amounts, effectively draining his head of tar.
Teeth: None, though the uneven rock surface of his jaw provide the ability to mash up anything he heads, anyway. And if he eats something alive, it will likely drown within the sea of tar in his mouth.
Mouth: As aforementioned, a rectangular box of thick, oozing tar he occasionally spews out when he's talking or growling. 4-5 feet deep, it is highly suggestion you don't go for a swim in it. Also, his breath smells putrid. Like a mix of rotten eggs, sewer gas, roadkill and dead fish.
Organs: He doesn't have any. Just a core made of pulsating dark matter, with heavy quantities of tar oozing from it into his other limbs. A similar ball of dark matter, though smaller in size, resides in his forehead, under his armored rock skull.
Core Material: Smoke Quartz (Hardness 7)
Blood Material: Sticky Black Tar
Movement Speed: Slow
Physical Weakness: Ability to be dismantled (rocks wedged off with crowbars, swords, with a lot of strength, etc.) Thin arrows may also breach the cracks in his hardened rock flesh. Wounds produce a sticky flow of warm tar from his insides. Weapons can be dipped in tar. Tar may also be used for small creatures to climb up, though is hard to maneuver through and causes a speed reduction in the climber. However, extended exposure to the tar may produce headaches.
Ability: Ichos is the sound golem. He emits a booming roar that can shake nearby structures to a small degree and cause short to long term splitting migraines. His screech can also cause temporary loss of hearing and intense head pain. If his jaw his taken off, he loses this ability.
Everything else: Ichos has good intentions--for golems, anyway. He's got a family back home that he feeds and fights for, and though his wife and he have recently had some problems, Ichos will protect their kids with his life. If working for Kronos and destroying the Gods is a guaranteed passage to his kids safely growing up, then he'll do whatever it takes.
While confident in his abilities, he isn't overly so, and does tend to review battle scenarios in his head before he jumps into the action. Ichos is something of an oaf and a clumsy one at that, a few fries short of a happy meal, and tends to dive in and smash more than actually coordinate a fight. He's rash and quick to anger, striking down whoever irritates him first, making the golem very easy to distract. His inability to focus on multiple enemies makes him a prime candidate for group ambush, especially seeing as he's not familiar with the move combinations of allies. Needless to say, he's not much one for help, though he respects the gesture his moves often clash and he finds himself taking friendly fire damage quite often. Luckily his thick skull can take it.
Ichos believes in justice, revenge and not crapping where he eats, so Ichos will only fight out of his own territory. He's an avid believing of hitting where it hurts so he'll target homelands and territories of his enemies, bringing the fights to them. In his eyes, they deserve it. Destroy his home? Not if he has anything to say about it. He's a protector, but Ichos' best defense is a good offense, so he likes to be the fight initiator.
Aside from killing things, he likes cooking and playing games with the kids, enjoying the occasional rare delicacy of fillet manticore loaded with bacon and sour cream, finished off with a hint black pepper and served with parsley, and a stick of roasted harpy ginache for dessert. Funny, because nobody's entirely sure how he can taste, or talk for that matter, due to his lack of a tongue. The insides of his mouth consist of a bubbling tar that occasionally sprays out when he hisses, effectively grossing out the entire dinner party.
Not as masculine as others of his gender, Ichos has an appreciation for the fine arts, fancying himself something of a connoisseur of sculpting and wood carving. His large rock cavern home is adorned with his works, most of the statues consisting of squirrels, plumbers and other creatures that roam the surface of New York. He was quite a fan of Medusa's work before her... incident, as well, and would put a bounty over Percy Jackson's head if he had the drachmas.
Ichos is also something of a story telling. Some might say a blabbermouth who over-exaggerates, but he prefers to think of it as just sprinkling in the detail. He can go on for ages, talking of mystical tales he may or may not have actually gone on, and the kids love it. He tells them stories before bed and humors the neighbor's kids in the same manner, when they come over. At dinner he'll go on endlessly, often producing the relocation of his wife to the living room so she can finish out her meal in peace and quiet. They're polar opposites, and word on the street is that their marriage is falling apart.
Considering his powers to manipulate sound, i.e. just screaming really loud and hurting everyone's heads, he's quite an avid party goer. Most of his time is spent by the stereo or disc jockey so he can control the music, regardless of whether anyone agrees with his taste. His shelves are full of CDs ranging from the beautifully heart piercing works of Rezső Seress to the adrenaline pulsing beats of Calvin Harris, to the headbanging, body-jerking rifts of Guns and Roses. Unfortunately, colorful, flashing lights give him a headache of his own, so prolonged stays at each banger is ill-advised for the big brute.