Levetias Ganuis "Ignorant Beast"

Name: Ganuis, Levetias

Gender/Sex: Male, but the monster himself knows not what to refer to himself as any longer besides just that: a monster.

Age: 80

Species: Ignorant Beast. Such a name he dubbed himself 60 years ago in his writings.

Love Interest: None.

Orientation: (Sexual/Romantic): Hetero

Weapon: He has a weapon that he cannot reach. He strapped it to his hip as an option as things got more and more distorted, and in case he had to use it for other things but unfortunately with the sudden complete transformation phase he cannot reach it as it is now ingrained into his body. The weapon is a silver sword, an old heirloom. He now walks with a terrible limp.

Appearance: Once a man who stood at 6'1", with light brown hair and a soft and nicely trimmed coarse beard, is now a beast that he himself has dubbed an abomination. Now instead of a nice tanned skin tone, is now covered with brown fur, with only pale flesh protruding underneath. His winning smile replaced with sharp teeth that gape down his canine like snout, painted with patches of yellow and like he, reeks of not only despair and failure...but also rotting fish. His fingers are replaced with heavily deformed claws that protrude like a tumor from his fingers and toes, with dried puss, the claws themselves ranging from blunt to sharp, some of which aren't fully curved and sharpened. His face heavily morphed with folds, and tears in order accommodate his new canine features, complete with eyes that are forever stained as the blood drained from his face into his eyes. He has very few memories with this new form that he now has to live with forevermore. It's been 60 years, and it's not getting easier, but rather a cruel game of how long he has to put with what he is, and he has no one to blame but himself. The clock keeps ticking, but time seems to stand still as he wanders more and more into the shadows, as he casts his own, terrible hunch and all into the ground. His hair now grays, may it be from age or every day stress is unsure to he, with nowhere to be--but with each passing day that blurs into years, perhaps it's almost time before he stops shedding tears.

Personality: Optimism died along with what he was. Who he is however, is something that he himself can barely determine at this point. He's certainly a lot more of a recluse as he prefers to hide during the day in abandoned alleyways, and wander out at night while everyone else sleeps, foraging for food and meeting the body's basic needs to function properly. He would love to be more out there in the world and have a chance to partake in activities that he once had in his younger years...like driving...but with being attacked roughly twice from straying farther than his appearance allows, he only goes further back into the preference of the nightly roaming.

History:
Journal 1
My first journal in awhile...I didn't have much reason to write much else for a bit, but with things looking bright once more, I can continue on with these updates...I can then look upon these as a short path to long term success. A bit of a short entry today, after some poking around I can say that I've been able to a donor. A nice fellow, and a bit too eager as well. Works for me, for I was tired of attempting to make underground dealings with the occasional witch...I needn't get wrapped up in anything I can avoid. I'll know what I'm doing.

Journal 2
The days are counting by, I paid a visit to one of my old professors. He's retiring this month, Death bless his soul for all he has done. Upon looking at him, I am reminded however of his old age and the drive it gives me. Perhaps too much drive? Upon seeing him, I couldn't help but explain what I had going on. I recall his face standing as stone, I dared not look at his eyes, but with interest he allowed me to take some of his old equipment and gave me further precautions.

Journal 3
Ah! The donor is here! He's a lot more roughed up than when I saw him, but nonetheless I appreciate his eagerness. Everything went off...somewhat well. He had to be restrained, but afterwards the look of relief was something that I could count as it's own reward. I may not ever see this man again, heck I don't even recall his name, but his contribution met oh so much. I'll prep everything else tomorrow and officially begin.

Journal 4
Late at night, I turned what I had into a usable substance. I'll admit, I felt rather uneasy...the scarlet glow as I held it firmly in my grasp was something that urged me to push on. It's in my body now, I feel no different, but granted this sort of thing happens over many years and I just hope to provide a more accelerated, and contained process.

Journal 5
A few days later...I feel a bit odd. A bit more than odd...I'm impressed with how quickly I saw effects, but...I feel it. I feel it coursing through my very being...my very veins. It's not to bothersome, yet I can't help but look at it. It's a weird feeling, as if small insects scampered back and up my arm relentlessly...I feel like they're there and I can't help but look. Sometimes I think I do something.

Journal 6
It intensified. I visited an...old friend. Looking at it, I felt many things...new things. the writing on the page began to get more illegible the further it goes down It's distracting, and my arms now ache. I want to rid of both of them. I want to be done with it, but I must stay determined. I can't help but...look back...this is the point where things go wrong, I dare not meet the same fate. What doesn't kill you...makes you stronger???

Journal 7
The words are heavily muddled and move into one another Day 15 of...this. I've gotten used to it...the moving, the feeling...I hear it through me. It no longer scares me(I at least made it this far). When I don't feel it, I feel empty...like I died...then it starts up again as my heartbeat accelerates sending it further down throughout. Yes...much further down, it feels like my legs are always tingling, sometimes like they're not there. It's tiresome to walk.

Journal 8
[size=32]FEELING WELL![/size]

Journal 9
Day...40? Damn...I lost count...damn journal made me fall...might as well...um...Everything feels weighted...my sins I never knew I had are weighing me down and whispering to me. Telling me of that one time I stole an apple, and something about the donor, and how his smile was carved into his face nice and structured and limp...I remember helping him out after the deed...a heavy fellow but he couldn't stay here, he'd just be clutter. I've been far too enthralled in everything else out there than to actually GO out there...ironic, yes. But the past few days they put up quite a ruckus, why go out to get a newspaper when I can stay here, listening to them recite it for me? People don't seem to have manners anymore, I tell you.

Journal 10
I finally decided to get up again, and clean up my mess...now with a sword at my side. I hear them all over, upstairs, downstairs, sidestairs, waystairs...I...the words become more illegiblefeel like they're coming for me yes? I've forgotten to pay my dues it seems...and this project has leeched off all funds, I only have enough for food and even then barely...good thing I've been well stocked. The collectors shall come for my life, and I'l exchange it for their own.

Journal 11
red spots stain the next few pages...AND THEY'RE COMING SOON!!!!!

Journal 12
I...have to leave. They come on the morrow, and I am no longer fit for guests. May this be all that I'm remembered for in this establishment and leave it at that. However allow me to leave a poem may this be found:




I've failed.

Soul Count: Three souls eaten, not proud of it. May they be the last, death bless them.(not planning to go full kishin grind mode. Saying it now.)

Miscellaneous: He's a wereboar/werewolf hybrid in terms of appearance. Thanks Daggerfall, however he's a bit more than that.

Abilities:
His standard attacks are the typical biting and clawing variety, however he does posses more "proper" abilities to go with his status.
Flesh Attack #1: (placeholder name because I suck) He can elongate his flesh in order to grab something a short distance from him. 15 feet is the max, but this is rather taxing.

Unhinge Jaw: What it says on the tin, he can easily unhinge his jaw and make him...do unhinging jaw things. On that note, his bite pressure is akin to that of a lion, unhinging the jaw and snapping it back while not the fastest thing in the world is double the strength.

Weaknesses: Loud noises disorientate him very, VERY much. Due to his hunch he's also not as mobile as he could be, so this limits his movement as well.

Have You Read the Rules?
"Come with me, overwhelming power and madness await."