#backstory creation

[forter-from-meteos]

i will be "i should make art of a ranbarumban" and come out with two minor ocs and ideas for two more

[wewerebeachdwarves]

dice-generated supervillains

I have made 2 tables to roll on to randomly generate supervillains, based on my observations of trends in the Deck of Villainy book for Masks: A New Generation. I've bolded every other one for easy readability. here they are!

motive (roll 1d10):

family/creator(/s)/home (protect or ruin)

gaining power/wealth/influence

maintaining power/wealth/influence

returning to/maintaining "normality"

hedonism

keeping something alive/functional (self, treasured item, etc.)

destruction (reality, humanity, government, etc.)

targeted revenge

entering a desired world (ours, a future, an alien planet, etc.)

love (romantic interest/partner, an audience, etc.)

powers/abilities (roll 1d20 up to three times):

elemental (water, air, electricity, etc.)

summoning (human underlings, demons, animals)

superhuman toughness/strength/durability

life-stealing/supernatural healing/poison

mind-control/hypnosis/illusion

tech/gadgets/machinery

shapeshifting (partial, full, or extreme)

monstrous/nonhuman form (robot, alien, undead, etc.)

great wealth

charm/social control

intelligence/smarts/information

teleportation/incorporeality

giant size/tiny size/size shifting

possession

immobilisation (freezing, paralysing, trapping)

invisibility

reality control/gravity control/wormholes

superhuman speed/agility/acrobatics

clones/doubles

weapons

go nuts on the interpretations, and if you want to share what you've generated in the tags/replies/comments of this post then go for it! also, if you want to make your own posts with art/stories of villains generated with this table, feel free to @ me!

[zindoesart]

what is your character trying to bring back?

[3hks]

How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory

Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?

For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!

First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!

Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.

Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.

Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.

Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.

There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[candyheartedchy]

Redesigned sketch of my old IZ sona.

[57sfinest]

also yall we need to step back from the harryvision and understand that kim, at his core, is a loser (affectionate) like everyone else. so much out there wants to portray him as limitless patience, great cook, super organized, good handwriting, nice tasteful living quarters etc and that's fun to contrast him to harry but well i am here to RUIN that we need to take off the du bois glasses and appreciate kim for the weirdguy that he is. he has horrific fits of road rage and harry genuinely fears for his life riding along with him and witnessing the generational curses this man is capable of unleashing upon the stupid little fucks that cut him off on the 8/81. he has never had the time or space or budget to learn to cook so he lives off deli sandwiches and butter noodles and the occasional grab-and-go fruit. he writes so much so frequently with such awful handwriting that he has invented a new form of shorthand and the moralintern is contacting him to create a cipher system for them. he has no resources to furnish and maintain a nice flat so it's like a slightly gentrified r/malelivingspace but with a table for his sewing machine and there's scrap fabric and thread and half-pinned half-hemmed pants strewn about the place. there are absolutely a bunch of shitty mockups of his old wirral character in the backs of his notebooks and he hasn't played it in years but if he ever picks it back up then his minmax high int high dex definitely-not-a-self-insert sidhe artificer is READY. everyone add your weirdguy kim thoughts NOW 👇

[iamhereinthebg]

I will never be over the fact that tbhk really takes place in 2015

We know that AidaIro published the first chapter in December 2014

The Yugi Twins were in the 66th Festival in 1968 and the curent present have the 113th Festival.

On this panel, it's written that the 1st of September was a Tuesday. The closest years to the manga airing having this date being either 2009 or 2015.

Bonus:

Which means: the 1st year (Aoi, Akane, Nene) were born in 1999, Teru in 1998 and Kou and Mitsuba in 2000.

[un-pearable]

as true as the jokes about “everyone wants to rewrite ninjago” are i feel like smthn people forget when complaining about the inconsistencies of the show is that…. it wasn’t planned? it’s not like most other animated shows lately - it didn’t start with a deeply fleshed out world or a meticulously designed pitch bible with grandiose plans for a long-term story or character arcs. the ninja don’t originally get their powers from heredity because they weren’t hereditary powers yet. the magic system doesn’t make sense bc they literally just made it up as they went! they go back and forth on stuff like whether non-elementals can learn spinjitzu bc it’s a collaborative piece of media made by people with vastly different levels of control over the story, the animation, the sets, etc. that varied over the course of the series. it’s totally understandable and exciting to see so many people reworking the early stuff with the lore and logic later seasons introduced but i personally feel that… if you’re doing that. you need to understand why the show is like that instead of writing it off as being bad and shitty. it was working with what it had. it’s only what it is now because of that awkward troubleshooting phase, not in spite of it

[glitteringcrab]

I just realized that when Rick Prime forced/manipulated the Ricks who were trying to kill him into fighting each other, he wasn't just taunting and humiliating them.

He was actively turning them against one another so that none of them would be left alive to go after him.

The trick to surviving this really was to work together. Rick C-137 was right on the money.

And Rick Prime killed Diane to hurt all those Ricks because said Ricks dared to... "act like they were better [than Rick Prime]".

And later the following exchange occurred:

...Which is shortly afterwards followed by Rick Prime saying this to Rick C-137:

...I can't believe I ever thought that Rick Prime said this because he was scared of dying and wanted to find a chance to escape.

Please watch out, Evil Morty. Please, please, please.

[solargeist]

I forgot her name was aether, and I'm the one who came up with the name-

i was literally never going to name Her, someone had to step up and i applaud you

[lesbianfakir]

Okay someone who knows more about dnd than I do help me sort out princess tutu rpg classes. My thoughts so far:

Tbh I could see Duck as either a bard or a cleric. Bard for nonviolent approaches to conflict and a dance focus. That said I could totally see her as a cleric, she’d make a natural fit as the healer of the party and princess tutu could be her deity.

Ok so Fakir has to multiclass in like the most inefficient way right? Starts as a low hp high dps melee fighter and eventually makes the transition to a magic user class (warlock perhaps?? Wizard of some sort?). It’s kind of funny to imagine him as guy who desperately needs a high wis/int but keeps dumping all his stats into strength out of sheer stubbornness. I mean he doesn’t HAVE to switch classes but I think it makes the most sense, he starts in a class that he’s really not suited for and has to transition to what’s best for him even if he’s not happy about it.

Mytho is a natural fit for a paladin tank (though I’d listen to an argument for cleric). He’s throwing himself in the way to protect all the members of the party with no regards to his own safety. Probably dies a lot.

Rue I’m most undecided on. I could see her as a magic using class like Druid (preferred form is a crow) or warlock (makes a pact with the Raven) or even a bard who uses her persuasion to start drama. In a totally different direction, I could also see her as a rogue just to balance out the party; she’s clever, resourceful, nimble, etc.

PLS GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS IVE BEEN ARGUING WITH MYSELF ABOUT THIS FOR AGES

[puppyeared]

I made a lmk oc

[mousy-nona]

All of God's Angels p. 4.5/5 (Alastor's POV)

He was Alastor, and he had tasted freedom on the radio waves. He would never be a mere bellhop again.

And he would never bow – not even to the King of Hell.

//

Or, how Alastor deals with being bound to Lucifer.

Link to AO3

All parts up on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53800450/chapters/136173307

Funnily enough, Alastor had been a bellhop, once upon a time. There weren’t a lot of jobs available for mixed-race bastards back in early 1900s Louisiana, and dealing with rich white men and their casual cruelty was better than starving on the streets. 

It was there, at that Ritz-knockoff, that Alastor first learned to smile. Smile, and their cold blue eyes slid over you. Smile, and the pile of green stacked in your hand grew larger. Smile – and they never saw the knife coming until it was too late to scream. 

But it was not enough. Alastor had been born with a hunger large enough to eat the world, and this life of bowing and scraping and blind obedience was slowly throttling the life out of him. Every day he woke up, and the bars of his cage were a little bit smaller, a little bit closer, and he didn’t have enough room to breathe.

One rainy night, the air fragrant with the scent of horseshit, vomit, and sweet olive, Alastor killed the man who would change his existence forever. 

The man was nothing special to look at. Alastor didn’t even remember his name. Balding, ruddy-cheeked, with an athletic physique gone slightly pudgy at the edges, he looked like any one of the other countless white men who swaggered through the doors of the hotel. But when he screamed, he sang. His voice was lovely as it ripped through the night, his accent artificial and slightly clipped at the edges, rich and reeking of luxury. It harkened back to better times, to a refined era that had never existed. 

That night, Alastor had flung open the door to the tiny one room apartment he shared with his mother and flashed a smile that, even then, hinted at the demonic. 

“Mama, I’m going into radio.” 

The problem with radio, of course, was the same problem that followed him everywhere: it was made by white men, for white men. No matter. It only meant a few more months of careful work, of plotting, of following, of taking painstaking notes, of watching and waiting until the perfect moment to strike.

One by one, every other potential candidate to fill the radio star’s shoes disappeared into that muggy Louisiana fog.

(Unlike a very annoying Angel-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he was a self-made man.)

In a very ironic and humorous (to him) turn of events, Alastor’s very first broadcast was a smash hit: Shocking new update in the hunt for the Boogeyman of the Bayou! Is he the one killing radio? Stay tuned, ladies and gents! 

Maybe if he’d been born a different time, a different place, or a different man, he would have been something – someone – else. But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t. He was Alastor, and he had tasted freedom on the radio waves. He would never be a mere bellhop again. 

And he would never bow – not even to the King of Hell. 

Which was why his first thought after Adam sliced his microphone in two – right after fuck, of course – was I refuse to die to this little shit. He summoned his shadows, alarmed at how difficult it was to do something that just a few moments ago had been as easy as breathing. 

The holy energy was burning him from the inside out. He’d never felt pain like this before – pain was usually sharp and clean, easy to handle. But this…it felt like someone was holding a flame to his chest and dripping acid onto it at the same time. Every time he sent his power to at least try and close the gaping wound, the agony ramped up ten fold. The holy energy treated his demonic magic like an invading force, attacking and demolishing it before he could get anywhere close. Days passed, and instead of getting better, the clawing streaks of infection only got worse. A glow was starting to form, casting a sickly golden light into the comforting darkness of his smashed-up radio booth. 

From far away, he could just make out the sounds of hammering and song. So the happy little fools had survived after all. His heart prickled, but he brushed it off as an odd side effect of his chest being cleaved half open.

Well, am I really going to sit here and let them think I got taken out by that sloppy manchild? 

Summoning every last scrap of willpower he had left, he stood, flashes of white momentarily obscuring his vision as he straightened to his full height. He summoned a shadow to fetch a pile of clean bandages and managed to cover the worst of the damage, managing to stay conscious through sheer determination when the cloth got too close to the raw red skin. He didn’t bother trying to get dressed in a fresh shirt – his shadow minions took care of that. 

But the reunion was worth the pain. The look on Husker’s face when he realized he wasn’t dead, Niffty’s excited little squeal, and, of course, Lucifer’s odd sigh of disappointment and annoyance…he filed it all away to gloat over later. And, as much as he refused to admit it, he was somewhat touched by Charlie’s overwhelming relief at seeing him safe and sound. 

Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and he almost lost his damn mind. The world whited out with pain. By some miracle, he managed to stay silent, his smile never wavering, but he did back out of the hug as quickly as he could. He thought he’d gotten away with it until he caught Lucifer watching him, his eyes narrowing just a touch. 

That golden gaze burned into his back as he went through the motions that were expected of him. His legs were boneless, his chest a lake of fire, but he sang with the rest of them, threw a few demeaning comments at Husker, and tactfully evaded any questions about where he was and what he’d been up to since Extermination Day. 

And once it was safe, he made it back to his room and gave into the overwhelming urge to collapse.  

Lucifer followed him up there. Because of course he did. The angel hadn’t taken his eyes off of him all night. And now that they were alone, Alastor could read the desperation rolling off of him in waves. He was holding out his desires like an open book, his loneliness hanging over him like the stink of a corpse. 

How long had he been alone? Decades, perhaps. Centuries. Even as a demon, Alastor had a hard time wrapping his mind around such a vast measurement of time.  

If Alastor had ever been this transparent, he wouldn’t have made it a day even as a bellhop. It was maddeningly childish behavior for the Prince of Darkness, but he couldn’t deny it was a bit endearing to see such a powerful being brought down so low. In the end, humans, angels and demons were all the same – they wanted to be loved.

Fine. He could work with this. 

So he offered a deal that should have been foolproof. He’d checked every corner, made sure to close every loophole. He was the one who had spun the deal – so how was he the one who got stuck in his own trap?

He glared at the small man from a safe distance away, feeling his oozing, infected heart thumping underneath a fresh layer of skin. Had he been planning this the whole time? Had he come here with the intention of getting him under his thumb?

But Lucifer was open, honest in a way that made no sense to him. His thoughts weren’t just obvious – he was practically throwing them at Alastor. Just like his daughter, he was completely without the protective layer that everyone else learned to grow. The mark of an apex predator with no natural enemies. It made his chest boil in a way that had nothing to do with the holy energy still burning through his bloodstream.

Well, if he wanted an enemy…he’d just earned himself one. 

Alastor stayed away for so long that he nearly killed himself out of spite. Lucifer was the one who had to go hunting for him, eventually finding him half-dead, his chest glowing gold, in the depths of his bayou realm.

“You fucking idiot,” he’d hissed, anger and concern flashing across his face before he turned away to suck away the holy power gnawing at Alastor’s bones. “You’re lucky I got to you in time. You really are a suicidal prick.” 

Truth be told, Alastor hadn’t meant to let the infection spread so far. He liked being alive. He adored the screams of terror when he showed lesser demons exactly why they feared the Radio Demon. He enjoyed the taste of fresh corpses in the morning with a piping hot cup of coffee. There were still plenty of plans left to weave, oceans of blood waiting to be spilled. But every time he thought of going to Lucifer’s door with his head bowed low, please sir, will you do this lowly demon the kindness of sparing his life , he thought he might die from the humiliation of it anyways.

So he hadn’t gone. He’d put it off – until he found his legs didn’t work anymore, and his shadows no longer answered his call. Just when he’d thought he was done for, Lucifer had appeared, his six wings raised, his red horns flaming, a dozen eyes flashing gold – a vision of holy terror; the incarnation of Wrath itself. 

And even though Alastor hadn’t opened a Bible in a hundred years, he’d thought: And the angel says to them, Be not afraid.

The other, stranger part of him had thought: I wonder what he’d taste like?

What he actually said was, “I’m not one of your brainless servants. Don’t expect me to answer when you call.”

Lucifer stilled. “Aren’t I the one answering your call?” 

True. The more he thought about it, the more a triumphant warmth flooded through his absolutely wrecked chest. For someone like Alastor, who thrived off of power and blood games, it was oddly intoxicating to have a being powerful enough to challenge God at his beck and call. 

It got easier after that. They fell into a rhythm, a strange comfort bristling with teeth and claws. Lucifer would throw out an insult; Alastor would make a clever retort; Alastor would set traps; Lucifer would walk into them and snarl and snap, only to find Alastor melting into the shadows. And every so often, they would find themselves in dusty rooms, in broom closets, in dark alleyways, Alastor allowing Lucifer to get closer than he had allowed anyone ever before. 

It was out of necessity. He had to do it to survive. And if Angel Dust and Husker started throwing each other telling looks every time he found himself in a room with Lucifer, then so what? They were low-level fools. Their opinion meant nothing. 

Without Alastor noticing it, Lucifer’s presence in his life was starting to fill cracks he hadn’t even known were there. Somewhere along the line the rush of annoyance had become a sizzle of excitement. Finally, someone he could really sink his teeth into. A worthy adversary!

(And then there was that whole incident with Vox, of course. Pissing off two of his greatest fans for the price of one? Now that was what he called a good time.) 

So they continued circling each other, two predators in a too-small pen. Alastor was all too aware of how the King stared at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. He saw Lucifer’s jaw tense whenever he unbuttoned his shirt, heard the quickening beat of his heart when he arched from the pain. And just like he did in those rainy streets of Louisiana, he watched, and waited, and bided his time, letting the tension boil to a fever pitch, his mouth watering at the thought of a chain around his Majesty’s pretty, pretty neck. 

And then came the day the pot boiled over.

[crossedwiress]

there's glitter on the floor after the party

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

The first batch of pictures for Amoré's character journal are here! Also I have been so super sick that I've literally had nothing to do but to work on this for like almost 2 weeks so...

The cover to cover tour officially starts here. All I can say about the front & back is that I lament my lack of experience with my Cricut when I made these decals. I only had 2 "fun" colors to work with at the time & I was still getting comfortable drawing in Procreate, so my silhouette art leaves a lot to be desired compared to some stuff I've made recently. I also found it's incredibly easy to burn this leather book.

But she's volume one, everything with her is a learning experience, & I realized as much as it helps to have a mini heat press for tight corners & small spaces, the cloth barrier they suggest you use between the vinyl & the iron tends to make things harder to press on this scale. So instead I gotta quickly tap straight on the transfer film & hope I don't burn anything around it :(´◦ω◦｀):ﾟﾟ

So at the risk of thoroughly exposing my inner theater kid, Amoré set the precedent with how I went forward creating campaign characters. I started off collecting 5 songs to make a mini story arc (almost like a show choir set list 🙃) that helps me figure out an outline for the kind of story I wanna give them.

Somehow Amoré ended up with a truly horrendous blend of rock & theatre. Absolutely incredibe. No wonder she's always such a dramatic bitch.

It was a lot easier to go in & add little decals around these lyrics. I'm definitely cursed with the Too Much™ gene, but I enjoy the little pops of color they give ✨ plus it justifies me hoarding all these vinyl scraps printing stuff this small lol.

Stat sheet!

In all honesty, as my first character I had no fucking clue what I was doing when I placed these & if I could go back & change one thing I'd probably swap her Intelligence & her Wisdom. She’s definitely more people smart than book smart.

But everything else is...very accurate. She has all the upper body strength of a chicken nugget. Plus on top of the (already) negative I traded disadvantage on everything DEX for magic crystal shoes that can be periodically harvested. Just a way for her to carry around the family fortune without actually having to return to the vault✨

For something that started so average, her CON became a monster & always comes in clutch for her alcohol tolerance. I've played variations of her across a few different one shots & I always manage to roll well for anything alcohol related. The dice do respect a bit 🤣

Spells on the other hand, I floundered with a lot at first because we’re not a combat heavy game, but then I found Chaos Bolt & that was that. It’s essentially Amoré in spell form & I’ve had a ton of fun with it over the years. Also Mage Armor cuz my girl is SO DISTRESSINGLY SQUISHY.

Cantrips were more or less a bit of a toss up. Message was fun for the sheer idea of her using it to talk shit during social events without being caught. But aside from Light serving fun backstory purposes the other 3 are kinda just what looked fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ unless you count the idea that she would absolutely delight in zapping handshakes.

From there, I wanted to extend the world map made by our wonderful DM @cappierong into a full scroll. Ya know, for the aesthetic ✨

Our campaign started in Civania, where Amoré's main Estate is. I just wanted a quick mock up to reference, so I edited a preexisting picture I found that checked all the boxes (large, on a plateau, accessible only by bridge) and then absolutely smothered it in flowers.

But anyways... This is primarily where Diana & Amoré grew up together in their decade of backstory ✨

There was probably waaaay to much back & forth trying to keep the continuity between stuff I've already drawn & this big reference. But I think it turned out pretty ok? Not like if I make a mistake anyone will really know lol.

Scaling was also another big issue I had, & I moments where I thought something was too big I just kinda handwaved it away like "ehhhhh she's from a stupid rich family." But now I have a NEED to draw baby Diana & Amoré around like, the statue gardens or something cuz I feel like certain parts of this place are definitely ominous 👀 especially for children...

And lastly we have the back cover & the High Noble political relationship map! I normally have this closer to the front but for layout purposes it'll be here. I kinda feel like I need to do more for the decoration of it but I can’t think of anything else to add at the moment.

Sam if u read that no you didn't.

But now! Other than a family portrait that I've always wanted to draw, I think I'm ready to move onto the art for Season 1 : Arc 2. It's a pretty hefty amount of art in comparison to others, so I gotta get busy. Especially since I think I'm gonna have to draw a few comics *sobs*

If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm always excited to talk out our little idiots so thanks for indulging me ❀(*´▽`*)❀

[riotcat103]

BACKSTORY OF MY TOUCHSTARVED OC

(TRIGGER WARNING!: Faul Language + Abuse)

Name: Ren Briar

Age: 3000+

Species: ???(def not human)

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 5'11

Sexuality: Pansexual

A child born between war and chaos, He is the third and youngest son of a sketchy and mysterious family. He was born with a curse, A curse that can alter the mind of whomever he touched with his bare hands,it wont affect anyone if its covered though. He grew up with wealth and was pampered, only when his mother was around. Growing up he was always compared to his older brother, "why aren't you as good as him?" "Don't disappoint me." " Why has god cursed me with a monster like you? just look at your hands! disgusting" as said by his 'Father', His mother isn't any better either, she took good care of him, to the point she wouldn't let him out of the house, interact with the other kids, heck even his siblings, although they do talk just not as much, he was always just inside the house, he was forced to read books and learn from them, He couldn't care less about those ,he would forget about them anytime soon. He played all the rules and did things right, just not in the vision of his father. After being full of his father's constant insults and abuse he ran, he ran and never looked back, leaving his sister and brother under the control of his father. He was going to die out there until a Senobium mage took him in and raised him as her own, teaching him how to be an Alchemist, He was a good student, He became what his mentor envisioned him, A TEST SUBJECT. After finding out, He was lost in rage and anger he touched her, with his bare hands, He watched as his mentor was dying of insanity, Did he care? of course he did, she was the closest thing he ever had as a parent figure. He watched her as blood started to drip and there was silence, no more screaming, laughter and the words "you bitch!" "freak" "monster!" was no where to be heard anymore, He left the scene and packed his bags, taking the money that was left and burned down the place, "No one has to know" He says as he left, ashes falling from the sky as tears rolled down his cheeks. He was all alone again, That was the first time he had ever seen his curse do such a thing, He wanted to know more as curiosity shot him, So he did it again, again...and again driven from the intension of 'seeing how far it'll go and how do I cure it?', He wanted to find a cure, he had enough being called a 'monster', He used his knowledge and wondered for years, trying to seek help. The number of people that suffered because of him was increasing, He can't help it if he loses his temper, Until he heard of the place called Senobium, a place of knowledge. So with best efforts he went, surely he'll find a cure. Right?

( His character design is still on development lmao)