Anthony Marcelo

History

• Games And Groups

• DnD Stats

  STR	16	INT	14
  DEX	19	WIS	13
  CON	15	CHA	14

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• Basic Info

  • Name: Anthony Marcelo
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: Serpenti

• Character Sheet

• Playstyles Chart

  Always	Sometimes	Maybe	Never
  Always Not as often as I'd like.	Sometimes I got work, so this'll be my go-to answer.	Maybe I ain't wishy-washy, I'll tell ya if I can or not.	Never I'll provide a reason if this is the case.

• Biography

  Where do I even start? Introductions, I guess. If you’re lookin’ at this page of thoughts, then my name’s Anthony Marcelo. Born in Japan, and raised amongst the supernatural within. Let’s get started with explaining that mess.
  
  Y’see, my father was a hunter. Monster hunter, if we want to get down to that nitty gritty. He met my mother on a job that ended up with them getting together. Basic shit happened, they dated, they got together and married… yeah. I guess the only real thing I should talk about with this is my mother. She was a Dai-Tengu. Yeah, yeah, Hanyou Gaijin. Eat your fucking heart out ya nationalist xenophobes. Whatever, that’s not my point-- my point is, I’m not exactly human.
  
  Moving forward with that, my mother wasn’t exactly low on the food chain either. In terms of position, guess you could call her a noble with no title. She had her own land, her own servants, even a small shrine that I have no doubt that my old man and her broke in, if you catch my drift. One thing I’ve learned about my father in this equation, is that he… wasn’t exactly clean, in terms of the soul. His soul housed something really eerie. Creepy, I guess.
  
  To elaborate on that, this’ll explain why I’ve been referring to my mother in the past tense. Now, strap in because this is uncomfortable as hell to talk about. On a night where my father was exceptionally stressed out from a hunt, he came home and there was something off about him that my mom noticed. He was constantly scowling, constantly angry, and when she confronted him, things got… heated.
  
  Oh what the fuck am I saying, he fucking raped her. Now you’re probably wondering how a human could’ve overpowered a being like a Dai-Tengu, right? Well… that’s where it gets ugly. Possession’s a hell of a thing. Due to all the wards and mental blocks that were on my father, the creature that was inside of him just couldn’t get a foothold for having a new meat suit to run around and play hopscotch in. the very brief time it had to take over my father took all of its power just to pull off, and used a tantric ritual of sorts ot transfer its essence through that hate-filled fuck into the sperm that became me.
  
  Told you it’s uncomfortable.
  
  Anyway, moving on with that and beyond the fact that I’m a rape-baby, that’s just an explanation into the conception. Now, move forward into the pregnancy stages, you’ll be shocked to know another fun little tidbit.
  
  I ate my way out when it was time to be born. Let that sink in for a minute there, I pulled a fucking Alien through my own mother’s uterus. This is where that demented essence comes into play. Whatever it is, it’s old. Really old. I can’t call it a demon, because nothing I’ve read up on has anything remotely similar to it. I can’t call it a monster, because… well, same reason. It just has a taste for human flesh, and it certainly makes its hatred for me well known. But before I get into that…
  
  My father had died before I was born. That alone had put my mother into a depression where she barely took care of herself. Combine that with the constant pain I put her through that probably made menstrual cycles seem like a vacation because my fetus was a nibbler, I just… okay, I’m veering off topic here. Long and short of it, she died giving birth to me, leaving the many servants that had taken care of her to… well, take care of me.
  
  It was rough. Some of them blamed me for their master’s death, and I don’t disagree. I am responsible, even if there is a thing inside me, that’s just… I dunno. Responsibility, I guess? I’m just running off of the constant wonder of whether she hated me or not. Putting that aside, I grew up trying to get by through my own ways. I started picking up American lingo because I couldn’t avoid watching old movies. The only thing that was left of my father was a very, very big box of old CD’s that consisted of old school funk. You know, Gap Band, Kool and the Gang, that sort of thing. Zapp and Roger’s a favorite for sure.
  
  When I found out about that one of my… ‘caretakers’ was an shinobi, I jumped on that chance to learn. He was hesitant of training me. Who wouldn’t be, the ‘monster’ of Kanto wanted to be taught how to kill even more efficiently. But I gave him a compelling argument. What better way to control myself than through the rigorous physical and mental training needed to become a Shinobi?
  
  Another issue he had was that while I was born in Japan, I would still be considered a gaijin by definition, regardless. Honor and purity business, that sort of thing. Not a fun concept to deal with. Regardless of that, he had cast it aside when he became a servant to my mother, so it worked out in the end. The training itself was hard as hell. At least on my body. I wasn’t going to cry out in pain no matter what. I couldn’t. My pride wouldn’t let me, nor would my want to become something better. Something beyond this monstrous thing screaming for me to die, to tie that noose, to run that knife across my veins.
  
  It was through this training that I started discovering some of this thing’s power. Nothing that threatened my mind, thankfully. This… coil? It’s like a snake. It wriggles about and can wrap around my body like one, yet it’s so much more. It’s malleable, constantly shifting… I can even change the very tip of it or flatten it out to form a sharp blade. I’ve take to calling it my ‘creeper’.
  
  Okay, training montage later, I had finally become a Shinobi after about eight years, soon enough i was putting an end to the homeschooling that was being given to me, deciding that I needed to get out in public. I needed to be… human. I guess.
  
  I’ll admit, my temper’s never been good. I run my mouth a lot too, and because of this shithead in me, I’m a lot more spiteful than the average bear. I don’t make many friends. But one thing I’ve resolved when I went out into the world, was that I was going to make people’s lives easier.
  
  I may not be loved for it. I may be the monster they’re scared of, I may even seem like some bastard… But as long as no one has to go through my father’s circumstances, or my own? I don’t care. I’ll gladly take on that weight alone. Taking funds from my family treasury and heading out into the world, I was going to live an average life. That meant high school, teenagers, and… ugh… socializing. Blegh.
  
  So here we are. Summarized, cut, print, that’s a wrap.
  
  Can only wonder what the hell else life’s gonna throw at me.