Adamus. Schrodinger's paradigm.

Real Name: Mark Sebrus
Renegade/Hero/Villain Name: Adamus
Title: The Harbinger
Alignment: True Neutral
Age: 37 (No longer human)
Gender: Male (Voice, no actual gender)
Race: Caucasian (None)
Hair: Blonde (None)
Eyes: Hazel (None)
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 180 lbs
Blood type: O+ (Unidentifiable)




Adamus himself could be described as arrogant, though he is not. He simply sees all beings as equal to the extreme. To him, the difference between a mosquito and a man is only how effectively one can kill another being. Though he has an understanding of humanity's reign over other beings, he simply regards it as a sort of 'luck of the draw' scenario and if pressed, he might posit that if wolves or badgers had been given the same chance, it would be them sitting atop the pedestal of civilization. Now this is not to say he dislikes humanity, or has any disdain for them. No no, he simply sees them as specimens in an experiment, and himself as the researcher. An anthropologist of sorts, studying the culture of the beasts who lucked out. How does he regard himself on this scale? You seem to believe you've caught him in an act of ideological hypocrisy, that somehow pointing out this caveat has made you superior. Well you would be mistaken. He regards himself as nothing. A non sequitur in the galactic scheme of things. He does not see himself as higher or lower than the beasts he studies. He simply is. In some ways you might notice that he seems confused as to the time.

No not the clock.

Tense.

He can frequently be heard muttering from a nonexistent mouth about whether something will happen, is happening, or has already happened. No get that thought out of your head. He's not temporally displaced and he can't see the future. Simply, due to an incredibly enhanced perception and a certain degree of his awareness being separate from his physical form, he is sometimes unsure whether something he predicted to occur has yet transpired or if it is in progress. Though its something of an apparent quirk, it hardly prevents him from functioning and he can carry on multiple conversations with ease. When forced into combat however, he must maintain some degree of focus, due to an almost supernatural ability to predict and visualize the actions of those around him.
As he has no eyes, Adamus sees through a sort of filtered mental window, not allowing him any added degree to perception aside from the aforementioned prediction based abilities. When conversing with someone for the first time, he traditionally greets them with the question 'Num poteris loqui hac lingua?'. The ability to answer this question -or converse in Latin period- is a great indicator of how he will view someone. To him, Latin is the last true language before the beasts become so fractured and off-kilt. For one who can speak it fluently, he will hold great respect, for one unable to even comprehend what he is asking -let alone reply to it-, he will view them with the same apathy as the rest of the herd.

When Adamus encounters a metahuman -or any other race such as angels or those claiming such-, he is unfazed, seeing metahumans as just another luck of the draw for humanity, unlikely to ever advance their line in a cohesive direction that would yield a new form of life. For metahumans, this is due to their wide variety of abilities. The lack of any kind of standardization makes it easy to see that any given meta is unlikely to be the template for a new species. As for angels or other 'mythological' beings, he regards them as mutations that succeeded, though not above humans. Yet again, they were simply a strand of DNA that chanced upon a favorable mutation.

I see that look in your eye, the quizzical raising of an eyebrow. You're wondering how or why such a being would do anything amongst the beasts. Wont the act of studying them influence the results? In this scenario, no. The beasts do not know they are being studied. One such as Adamus acts only with whatever alignment he has chosen to study. Morality is such an odd thing, an invention of beasts trying to impose order on chaos with success measured in millions. Moral, Immoral, Amoral. All these terms are meaningless to him. Should he choose to study the aspect of 'Good' or the 'Moral' path, he would act in accordance with that, saving kittens, stopping bank robbers and asking for no rewards. If he chose to follow the opposite road, that of 'Evil' or 'Immoral' actions, he would of course take measures to be in line with what was commonly seen as evil. As for the amoral, while he might argue that he is simply a being with whom such notions would not apply, within the concept of morality, this is where he would fall. Adamus lacks a morality, driven solely by curiosity implanted in him by a being from beyond comprehension.

Will he, is he, was he? This is the question you must ask. For Adamus did not start as Adamus. No not at all and yet completely. He began as Sebrus. Mark Sebrus. Mark Sebrus' childhood was bland, boring, though of course he suffered the same as any other human being. He had his scrapes, his bouts of fisticuffs with other ruffians. Where was he born? Not that it matters, but Nevada, outside the city of Las Vegas. His proximity to constant decadence and sin had surprisingly little effect on the man's moral fiber, perhaps due to his rare visits into the city itself. He was a quiet man, bespectacled though not unattractive. Then again, he was no gem either. You might posit that he was just another face in the crowd, seen, remarked on to one's self, forgotten. The next question you must ask is will he? Will he what? Will he always be Mark Sebrus, student of linguistics and anthropology at the university of Brandice? Well if you've read this far I don't know why you even ask such a question. Of course not, for this is not the tale of Mark Sebrus, but that of Adamus. You wish me to skip to the good part? No such luck, first you must endure the events leading up to it. It of course being the birth of Adamus. Mark Sebrus attended the university and attained his masters in linguistics, though the shriveled vine of anthropology sat upon his diploma as well.
It was not that he disliked the concept, simply, he understood it was not a profession in which one attained status. Of course linguistics was not a direct line to such things either, no, not at all. Rather, it was his friendship with a man named Simon Greer. This man was an archeologist in the employ of the college, and while he was an expert explorer -and master of several kung fu styles, as per every archeologist's standard existence-, the man lacked much skill in translation of the objects he found. Not trusting the vultures at the college to translate his finds and unwilling to lead them to the places themselves, he enlisted young Sebrus' aid within his first year, grooming the eager lad to be his protege.

So as our tale would imply, he brought Mark Sebrus along on many an expedition, most uneventful if somewhat enjoyable, until they finally happened upon some ruins that were unidentifiable. Pooling his linguistics skills with Simon's own knowledge, they found a variety of cultures spanning multiple eras had worked on the place. Braving several traps and many a sneering archeologist competitor, they finally unraveled the mystery of the ruins. A small black stone kept in the center. The next point we must ask will of course be: Is he? Is he what? About to pick up the stone and change into Adamus? Of course not you blithering ape, now sit down and listen. So as I was saying, they recovered the stone and brought it back to the college, using the facility's research lab to examine the object. It was odd, the substance comprising it was pure solid. Not even a quark sized hole existed anywhere along its surface. No signs of tampering, not a single scar. The stone was perfect in its every detail. Deciding that instead of respecting the artifact as historical curiosity, they should open it up, the scientists fired a barrage of lasers into the thing, with no result. Mark Sebrus left, disgusted at their disrespect for history, though Simon was too wrapped in his own curiosity to notice his protege's exit.

As the young man walked home, he heard an explosion. It was small, but the sound was massive. Turning, you will ask me 'Was he' and now, I can answer yes. He was struck by the stone along the spinal column, fusing it to his body. Of course, the human body was not meant to be struck at high velocity by mysterious and alien stones, and thus: He exploded. A blackened skeleton was all that remained, as seamless and perfect as the stone itself. The skeleton still stands in the college's museum wing today -though they painted it white, so as to avoid freaking people out-. Now of course, that's not where our story ends, no that happens in the best place for learning: Your local library. The thing that was neither Mark Sebrus nor Adamus manifested itself there for the first time, a gelatinous mass of swirling colors enveloping the building and then disappearing.

The next place it appeared was at a clothing store oddly enough, though it was much smaller now, form eluded it. It absorbed the store and vanished once more.

Finally, upon its third manifestation, form was found. Adamus was born, knowledge and memories synthesized from both Mark Sebrus' and that of the library swirling in its head. This, this was Adamus. What his objectives will be, are, were: Those are mystery, as is his past. Though not to you of course, you lucky devil.



Will I die, am I dying? Did I die?: This is his power. While Adamus himself is eternal, every existence is finite. Hmm, I suppose I should ask you this: Have you heard of Schrodinger's cat?
Yes? Good. No? Then I won't explain it. If you need an explanation, the most you'll get is this: I think, therefore I am. In many ways, this defines Adamus' power. Should he be slain, he will remain. Turn away from the body and you might spot him walking out of a nearby alley, or exiting from the door of a building. Confused, you would look back to where the corpse lay, only to find it gone. Again, you slay the man, only to find him appearing in the unlikeliest of places. He's never right behind you, nor does he disappear entirely. Every time he is slain, you will find him nearby, the corpse as nonexistent as your apparent sanity. To put it plainly, whenever Adamus is killed, he will appear nearby, stepping from the ether of the universe while the corpse vanishes. He thinks, therefore he is. The corpse cannot think and therefore does not. Existence is funny like that. Should a wound be lethal in nature, such as the removal of his precious limbs, he has the god given mercy applied to himself and will die in minutes with a wound that would kill in hours.


Occult: 8
Strength: 2
Speed: 3
Durability: 2
Ability: 8
Fighting Skills: 7

Wealth: 1

(:

Approved and moved.