#the whole of Olympus held him in contempt that day for his crime

[mementosrp-blog]

( PARK SEOJIN )

ALIAS ›  

FACTION ›  SMLRC

( PERSONA )

BACKGROUND :  From birth, he is destined for greatness and in death, they will surely etch his image in the stars. His nature is boisterous and violent, but his heart is undeniably lined with gold. Although a hero born into hostility, his good deeds shine through. He’s destined to protect and to serve mankind. And protect and serve he does for Seojin, becoming his guardian. Without Heracles, he is nothing.

ABILITY/ABILITIES : 

Choke - Heracles emerged from the womb ready for battle. His infant hands strangled two snakes. This ability can lock an enemy into place and does gradual damage, like a fist strangling a neck or a boa constricting its prey.

Body Slam - A physical attack using the whole body. It has the potential to deal great damage or knock an enemy on its back.

Human Tank - An ability that grants the user the ability to withstand attacks by absorbing or blocking them. The user is granted an invisible armor when using this move.

Rampage - Akin to a berserker mode. The user becomes stronger for a brief amount of time.

WEAKNESSES :

 Choke - The ability cannot be used on more than one enemy at a time. It’s possible that the target can break free from the grasp if strong enough or enlist the help of an ally.

Body Slam - This ability takes a lot of stamina and the damage will decrease the more exhausted the user is. And although it can knock opponents down, it’s not guaranteed and entirely dependent on the enemy’s fortitude.

Human Tank - There’s only so much a body can withstand before becoming physically exhausted. It can only be use on the persona user and never transferred to someone else. It also requires a certain amount of time before it can be used again, as it takes a lot of energy.

Rampage - Unfortunately, this power up does not come without consequences. Blinded with rage, there’s the potential for allies to be caught in the crossfire. Users with the ability to confuse or induce rage can take advantage of this. It also cannot be triggered immediately and requires taking damage to activate.

( STATS ) 

Knowledge : [ 5 / 25 ] Guts : [ 20 / 25 ] Proficiency : [ 0 / 25 ] Kindness : [ 10 / 25 ] Charm : [ 15 / 25 ]

— BACKGROUND

BOOK I

The tragedy begins as the tale of a bastard born to a common woman, his father of immeasurable wealth. It is a romance held in secret behind the back of his scornful wife. From this love is the child conceived. Seojin is the name he is given; an homage to a grandfather he would never meet. His eyes resemble the stars in his mother’s and his unwavering expression mimics his father��s. His birth is hailed a joyous occasion, but the euphoria is short lived.

“O God,” his mother weeps. “What have I done to deserve such an unfair hand in life? I pray to you to protect my son and one day bring him back to me. And I plead for my love to return as well. I would surely die without him and the nights have grown so cold.”

And which of the cruel gods is it to spurn such a devoted mother with only love in her naive heart? O it is not a god, but a mortal woman; for the existence of the child engulfed her in hatred. Her mouth spills lies that do deceive those with power to rip the infant from undeserving arms.

Balled fists, tiny and weak, resist the grasp of his capture. He cries for his mother to no avail, for she is no longer there to hear. She will never see her child again.

BOOK II

He finds himself swept away to another city, forced to drown among a sea of unfamiliar faces. The decrepit old building looms over a dead street, its aging foundation festering with an infection of ivy and mold. The interior is packed to the brim with toddlers and glassy eyed adolescents. Their faces are sullen; aged seven and already wise to the unyielding hand of reality.

“This is your new home,” the woman snarls, wrought with misplaced contempt. “And you would do well to be on your best behavior or I will take you away from this place as well. Mark my words, boy, if fate were on my side I would have you in a far worse place. In the ground is where you’re best suited. When you are older, you will appreciate, no, uphold the mercy I bestowed onto you.”

She speaks with purpose, cognizant of the child's capacity to understand despite his young age. She is a wicked being indeed, and her face twists with agony as he pulls on her greying hair in a blinded rage.

Thus he is forced in amalgamation with parents not his own; and he is well aware of who they are not. He bounces from home to home, leaving a trail of hellfire in his wake, a cautionary tale for whomever came next. He’s a boy made of recklessness and untamed fury.

BOOK III

The boy matures into the charms of his prepossessing appearance. Arrogance grows with him. He is aware of the power of his own fists, knuckles coloured with healing shades of purple and crimson. Disputes can be caused with a quarrel. Hunger’s claws are satiated with theft. Desperate fingers clutch the expensive leather of a lady’s purse as he tears it from her shoulder. The decision is bold and foolish, as the authorities are hot on his trail and his crimes uncovered.

“I beg you have mercy on him!” Begs his aged guardian. For the troubled is ascertained as a thief not yet punished for his previous wrongdoings. "You see, he is a troubled young man with fire in his heart

But the pleading fails and he is swiftly labeled a criminal, submerged in another tide of faces he did not know; faces like his own. The inner walls of the detention are cold and stark, blistering from the corruption of those it houses. These faces are dark; aged sixteen and hardened by society.

The other boys are tough and mean, and caged warriors often clash within the confides of their cells. Balled fists, heavy and determined, resist the grasp of callused palms around his wrists. The pain is an excruciating one. Their heels dig into the crevasses of his ribcage. Their knuckles scrape against the roughness of his teeth. He screams for repentance to no avail, for their laughter at his anguish roars too loudly.

“Seojin. You have never known submission,” A voice cries within his skull, disembodied but resounding. “You cling to life, you still breathe. You will prevail in this battle once more as you have done in the past. For mortals, as weak as they may be, hold a resilience no god can ever match. Stand, boy. I am Heracles, a mere mortal bestowed the honor of a seat in Olympus. A man not overcome by the ill will of The Fates or those who would see him suffer. The pain will be no more, but you must repent as I have done.”

BOOK IV

The boy, now a man, is contrite in his wrong doings. Atonement comes in the form of volunteer work. Although he is far from an individual blessed with a brain full of knowledge, his time well served among the towering shelves of a library. He is handed a second chance at life on a silver platter, unaware of the whisper of influence the father he had yet meet has in his reformation.

Powerless to resist the beckoning hand of sleep, he finds himself resting in a rarely explored crevasse of the library. The awakening is as abrupt and violent as the discovery of himself. Believing to be sucked into a world of dreams, he wanders the halls aimlessly, mesmerized until he stumbles upon a band of people. They exude an air of comfort with the strange scenery, and turn to the new face with smiles.

“Ah so you are like us then,” the man calls out. “Welcome to the club.”