Name: Giovanni Echorvus (Prefers Echorvus)
Age: 68
Appearance: Echorvus closely resembles the plague doctors of the 1300's. He wears the long dark robes of the doctors, and also wears the characteristic round, dark hat. However, as a replacement for the plague doctors' mask, he has a long, black beak of the crow that he was fused with. His hands have become long black talons, and his skin itself has turned black from the fusion. He keeps his dark, feathery wings under his robe at all times, unless he absolutly needs them. He walks with a slight limp, and is usually hunched over.
Personality: Echorvus has lived a long, hard, lonely life. Because of this, he is a very reserved and often cold person. As a result of his great impatience, he often forsakes the company of others and is usually spotted alone. One can only wonder as to the status of his mental health, for those who happen to pass near him can often hear him deeply engaged in a conversation with himself.
At times, Echorvus can be a rather abusive person. If he becomes imapatiant with another person, he has been known to sometimes physically strike them to get what he wants. When he is not abusing people in this way, he normally abuses them verbally with his sharp tongue.
Background: Echorvus was born to a rich family in a small town in South Eastern America. His mother had died whilst giving birth to him, a death his father never chose to forgive. Throughout his childhood, his father had ignored him, only even speaking to him when absolutely necessary, and never in a positive manner. But this didn't bother Echorvus. His father could die for all he cared. The world could die for all he cared.
Echorvus always had an infatuation for all things dark. His father's servents often complained of him going outside at great lengths and returning with his hands and pockets filled with the corpses of all sorts of insects. They complained even more the day he stopped bringing insects and began returning with the bodies of small animals, such as birds or rodents. His father only decided to take notice of these little habits the day his son came home with the still warm body of the hunter's dog slung over his shoulder. After that day, nobody saw Echorvus leave his home for many years.
During those years, Echorvus began to root through his father's library, mostly in the history section. He began to develope an interest in the great disasters of the world; Books on famines, fires, and wars were some of his favorites. However, none of these even came close to in his eyes the greatest disaster of all, the outbreak of deadly disease. Most notably, The Black Plague.
Reading was not the only thing Echorvus did, however. He often wrote stories that made shivers run up the backs of the servents who decided to read them while cleaning his room. Poetry was another favorite pastime of his, and it has been said that once a servant asked for him for a love poem that he planned to tell to his love when he decided to ask her hand in marriage. After reciting this poem, it was said that the lady became enthralled with this servant, and that she at once agreed to marry him. However, both lovers became ill and died before the marriage had a chance to occur.
Another pastime of Echorvus was the organ. His father had one in the house, and often played it in an attempt to entertain guests. One night, Echorvus snuck out of his room and found this organ. It was said that as soon as he sat down, he began playing, and that his playing was beyond comparison to anyone that the listener had ever heard before.
Even with these obvious talents, Echorvus' father ignored him. His thoughts towards his son were still clouded in a rage caused by the death of his mother. These thoughts were probably still his mind the day he died, found dead on the ground outside the house, with the window broken several floors above. There were no signs of a struggle, though it is safe to believe that Echorvus may have had a hand in the event.
After this point in time, Echorvus began to live a somewhat more normal life. He tended the graveyard for a living, and played the organ at the church, though he was never really a man of faith. He used his savings to purchace historical pieces, such as replicas of the clothing worn by people throughout the ages, including the plague doctor's robes he wears today.
There is no evidence that Echorvus ever fell in love with everybody. On the contrary, he avoided people as much as possible and preferred the company of animals. One day, he happened upon a crow's nest that was completely abandoned, save for a single remaining egg. He took this egg home with him that day, and cared for it until it hatched into a beautiful, black crow. Within it's first hour of hatching, Echorvus slit it's tongue through the middle, giving it the ability of speech.
It is most likely that this crow is the only being that Echorvus has ever really had an emotional attatchment towards. Many an hour was spent teaching the crow the words to represent various objects and concepts. Eventually, Echorvus trained this bird to fly around the town and return to him to tell him what it saw.
By now, Echorvus was an old man. He had lived through many things, and still preferred solitude. He lived alone with his crow, and he was content. No good thing could last forever, though, and one day, his crow came to the window and told him the last bit of information he would ever hear from him. The crow landed on Echorvus' outstretched arm, as usual, and stared into his eyes. Then, he began to speak the words;
"We are going to die."
It was within this moment that the house was suddenly struck with radiation. In that instance, the crow and Echorvus began their fusion, and the house collapsed. Echorvus was at the top floor at the time. It was a miracle that he survived the destruction, and it seems that the only reason he did was because of the remains of one of his great bookcases, which managed to prevent the roof from landing on top of him directly.
After a day of unconciousness, Echorvus rose from the rubble. He was in pain, and it was obvious that he had changed dramatically. His clothes were ripped and torn, exposing the hiseous mutant he had become. He began to search the ruins of his home for anything untouched, and was lucky to find a single chest of his. Inside this chest, he found the old plaugue doctor robes that he had collected so long ago. He donned these robes, and has not been seen without them since.
As the years passed, Echorvus came across many others like himself, who managed to survive this great disaster. Try as he might, he could not avoid encounters with these people, and soon built a reputation for himself as the old, lone wanderer, searching for naught but survival and knowledge.
Through the people he met, Echorvus learned of The Watchers and The Resistance. Pondering these two organizations, he realized that he was living through a major chapter of history, and that he could not bear to be complacent any longer. He made up his mind and set out in search for the resistance. He had been born on this planet. His family had been born on this planet. And there was not a chance that he would let this organization destroy it.
Animalistic Traits: Because of the fusion, Echorvus has gained the wings of a crow, along with the beak. His hands have become long talons, and his skin has turned a dark black. Feathers grow on his body in some places, and his eyes have turned black in color. His ailing hearing has been greatly improved by the fusion, along with his eyesight and smell.
Original Animal: Crow
Starter weapon: Small Dagger
Roleplay Sample: The long road ahead was bare. Not a single other person travelled along it on this dark morning, and Echorvus was grateful for this. If his luck continued, then he might not meet another person all day. There was no need for other people when he had himself for company. And himself was all he had ever needed.
However, he was beginning to find it hard to keep himself going. Food was even more scarce nowadays, and he had to walk an inhuman distance just to find enough to keep him on his feet for another day. Once in a while, if he was lucky, he would find the corpse of some other person searching for food who had not been so fortunate. He was still not accustomed to eating the flesh of others after all these years, but it was starting to become more natural to him.
There was no use thinking of these things now, however. He had to continue walking. The smell of food was faint, but it seemed to be coming from this direction. He would have to hurry, or else some other survivor might make it to his meal before him, and after a day of starvation, he wouldn't let them have such a prize without a good fight. Old as he might be, he still had plenty of fight in him.