Chengyi

Chengyi


Personality: Flashy but not for others’ sake. However, this side of him is only shown in battle, and he doesn’t go around picking fights often. Oh, yes, he prods and provokes, but never to the point of engagement. (Most of the time he pushes the less keen to their tipping point and just leaves them for someone else to finish the job.) He laments to strangers of being an attention seeker, but when chided for doing the same thing he’s complaining about he replies something strange with a cryptic look in his eye. These answers have ranged from “I’m not talking about you, I speak of the true gods,” to “the thing behind you.” Many judge him to be insane. He is not.

Backstory: No one who remembers his backstory is alive to tell it. Of his life before he remembers very little: just something loud enough to rock his bones, maybe thunder, and unbearable heat. Perhaps one day this too will become a distant memory before it is swept under the tides of divine judgement he so fervently seeks.

Powers: He is a very skilled manipulator of ice; he can freeze the very vapors in the air and fling them about as if in a snowball fight. These, however, are ice shards shaped with such precision and quickness that they are not only dangerously sharp but very hot as well. They melt in an instant but for that instant whence they exist they can wreak silent catastrophe.
Weaknesses: despite his appearance, he is still an ice dragon. Thus weak to heat of any kind. Being used to the wolf winds of the tundra, he does not fare well without mighty gusts to propel him through the air. Inexplicably, his feelers have been cut off and the gemstone on his head is cracked. His tales do little to clear up the reason why this is— he tells a different one each time anyway. It didn’t seem like empathy served him very well either.

Oh, and he does everything only to amuse himself in the end. His dispassionate attitude to the concept of moral or social standing has veered into the dangerous enough times to be unhealthy.

Inventory:
A spear shaft. Curiously enough, there is no blade.
A ruby earring. A spirit dwells within and holds his items for him; even he himself does not know when he made a contract with it. It does not reveal anything about his lost memories, even when begged-- although, he would never beg.
Bandages. They don't seem to do much good on account of being rough and almost always damp.
A selection of common herbs and treatments. Although he doesn't remember any of it, he's learned quite a bit during his travels. He trusts his intuition far more than he trusts his memory.
A swarm of frozen locusts. Seems he got lucky during a summer plague.
A brooch with a rose emblem on it. It has long been frosted over, and for some reason the ice does not melt. He does not remember who gave it to him or where it was from, but he doesn't feel right letting go of it.



Vibes:
Mean-spirited laughter.
Refined savagery confused if it’s spilling over or deliberately flowing.
Sparkling fragments suspended in the air the instance after an explosion.
An ornate diamond spear crusted with a dark liquid.
Something hostile thrumming at the other side of a surface. You are unsure if it's a void of something or an abundance of it.