PLAYER
Player name: Grimme
Contact: GrimmHooke
Characters currently in-game: Nick Valentine (synthedick)

CHARACTER
Character Name: Carlisle Longinmouth
Character Age: 24
Canon: Original + CRAU
Canon Point: The night before he departs Bear Den for the capital (and CRAU-wise, the day after the Tranquility finally fell into that chasm)

World Description:
The principality of Dargaran is a small one, and the villages within it even smaller. Ruling that principality in place of the ailing Prince Decan is his father, King Nedrus. Naturally, as he is supposed to be keeping watch on the rest of his kingdom, the king doesn't particularly have time to keep a close eye on Dargaran, and so its economy has been in the dumps as of late. Though the principality sees plenty of travelers from other lands, ranging from standard fantasy fare of Elves and Dwarves to half-beaverkin and the occasional wizard who turned his entire arm into wood through a magical mishap, it unfortunately doesn't see much in the way of money.

And that is the case with the town of Bear Den... or perhaps Beared In, as there is some debate among the population which it actually is. All anyone knows for certain is that there are bear dens in the area, the founder of the town was once trapped inside one of said dens by a bunch of bears, and everyone agreed that the name Bearricade was just asinine.

Though located on the Cottonmouth River, the town lacks much in the way of industry, and has fallen on harder times than most. This is primarily due to two things: first, the principality has recently come under the attack of the undead, as a necromancer has set his sights on the area for building his own domain (and one might think the king would care that land was being invaded under his nose, but... well, Decan isn't exactly his favorite son). The second problem is that the Bear Den's main source of income, renowned monster hunters and trappers known as the Longinmouth Brothers, the perfect people for dealing with hordes of undead abominations, vanished without a trace years ago.

And as for the heir to their estate, he has problems of his own.

The main religion in the kingdom is the following of the Camisou (the Clarity) and the Domu (the Shroud). Those who have come so close to death that they have seen the Shroud of the Land Beyond Living are said to be cursed twice: once for having nearly died in the first place, and a second time for having wasted the Shroud's time -- while he is not an evil god, the Shroud is a very busy god, and he does not like to have his time wasted.

Though they sometimes return to the world of the living with gifts -- typically magical in nature, as their souls are said to enter another realm and absorb some of the properties from it -- the twice-cursed are often changed for worse. Some return to life with immense, unyielding strength, but also with a limb deadened beyond repair; others gain the ability to glimpse into the future, yet lose their sight, their eyes having been seared for gazing even once at a plane beyond their comprehension. Some even lose their minds, as nothing can compare to the horrors they saw in the Land Beyond Living... even if they can't fully remember said horrors upon waking in their living bodies.

One aspect all twice-cursed have in common is that they expel a black bile from the site of their affliction whenever using their new gifts. Most consider it a sign of the Shroud using the twice-cursed to get a foothold in the land of the living, but others collect it and sell it as a miracle drug, touting that taking the essence of death itself into one's body will surely stave it off somehow. Many twice-cursed adapt to their new lives, using their unique gifts for their professions, becoming seers and fortune tellers; some become witches and warlocks, turning to a darker calling, hoping to gain favor with the lord of the Land Beyond Living so that he might forgive them upon their return. Whatever the reason for surviving their encounter, they straddle the line between life and death with their very existence.

And that's where the aforementioned heir to the Longinmouth legacy comes in.


History:
Carlisle Longinmouth was born in the rocky hills surrounding Bear Den, and it was clear from an early age that he was unlikely to live up to the standards of his father. It wasn't that his father was hard on him, but rather that they were just very different people. Kevin Longinmouth was an adventurer, a man of action who wasn't satisfied unless the day ended with a dangerous beast slaughtered and a round of drinks to celebrate its demise; Carlisle, on the other hand, was a superstitious lad who was terrified of death and all things that might bring it, including (but not limited to) beasts, haunts, abominations, aberrations, spooky shadows, and small birds that may or may not have been riddled with diseases. Thus, he was perfectly happy to study such creatures in a purely academic way rather than slay them for recognition.

And as it turned out, his fears weren't entirely unfounded. A regular ritual for those coming of age in Bear Den was the Hunt, which involved surviving an encounter with one of the infamous dens after which the town might (or might not) have been named. With his father supervising, Carlisle undertook the Hunt at age fourteen. All he had to do was sneak inside the cave, make it to the back, and fetch a bear tooth from the basket placed there by the town's elders each spring. Easy peasy.

Unfortunately, the bears were home and had never liked having their dens invaded, and young Carlisle found himself on the wrong end of a bear's claws. Most of the youth who had failed the test over the years simply died, and were deemed too weak to survive in the harsh wilderness surrounding the town. That was just the way of things in Bear Den.

However, Carlisle's family had a few things they didn't, such as a name nearly everyone in the kingdom knew. Even those in the far wastes leagues away from Bear Den had heard of the Longinmouths; many a peasant and noble alike were indebted to the brothers for one reason or another, and among those happy to offer their services to their heroes were some truly gifted healers.

Those healers were Carlisle's saving grace in more ways than one: after he was patched up and restored as well as their magic would restore a teenager bleeding from a gaping wound in his abdomen, he found his calling with them. He hadn't the skills or the nerve for hunting bears, nor for facing the dangerous wilds. He did, however, awaken from his near-death experience with several new scars, an aptitude for magic, and a desire to help people, one which might possibly keep him as far from life-threatening experiences as possible. He also ended up with fear of bears, but that wasn't completely unexpected.

It took him another few months and the death of his father before he realized he'd gained something else in that incident: a condition colloquially known as "twice-cursed." It was at the funeral that he first lost his tongue.

Though the people of Bear Den knew him to be trustworthy, those outside the village were often distrusting of the twice-cursed. As for Carlisle, the Domu must have seen it fitting that a man who wanted to work within the realms of healers and the church -- professions that required a lot of compassion, confessing, and conversing in general -- be struck with a condition that would leave him painfully tongue-tied. And so, in times of immense stress or frustration, the poor lad found himself unable to speak or understand anything but Des, the language of the Below and all who dwelt there. Given the nature of his curse, Carlisle became withdrawn, keeping mostly to the town's church and the home he shared with his uncles.

Carlisle was just seventeen when his uncles Boris and Benistad went missing. Because the Longinmouth brothers had been Bear Den's primary source of income, and Carlisle was already the town's religious leader, that left him with sole responsibility for both the family estate and the economic and spiritual welfare of the townspeople. While he was no monster hunter, he was adept at dealing with some demons -- aside from his own -- and started using his gifts in healing, exorcism, and spiritual awareness to help bring extra income into the village. It wasn't much, but he had to atone for guilt and sins some way. After all, he'd seen the Land Beyond Living, and did not want to starve and end up back there anytime soon.

Unfortunately, his efforts to help the town and serve at its benefactor often went ignored by those not living in Bear Den. Some of the nearby villages believed his curse had brought misfortune upon his family, and that it would soon spread if left unchecked; others suspected Carlisle of having had a direct hand in his uncles' disappearances. The growing paranoia among the populace over the fates of such legends as the Longinmouth Brothers was enough to draw the attention of inquisitors working under the king. Though they detained and questioned Carlisle regarding the vanishing of his uncles, they eventually released him back to Bear Den -- they could have executed him and saved the world from dealing with another twice-cursed, but he was a young man, religious, and they had no proof of his guilt. Perhaps he could be redeemed.

There might have been no actual fault on Carlisle regarding the loss of his remaining family, but he felt guilt for it all the same. That, and bitter resentment over being suspected of such a vile act as betraying his own blood.

Five years passed, and by twenty-two, Carlisle was a downright recluse, preferring the quiet life of the church to that of adventuring, perfectly happy to live vicariously through the tales told by those who came to him for guidance and healing. Staying in and around Bear Den meant he didn't have to deal with those who didn't understand his condition, after all. He'd have to get out sometime, though: the small fortune left to him by his uncles was dwindling, and with clergy work not bringing in enough bacon, he had to find something else.

And as luck would have it, something else did come along: a decree from King Nedrus, calling all healers in the land to his castle at the capital. His favorite daughter had fallen ill to the curse of a necromancer, and the one who could restore her would have riches beyond their wildest dreams.

No, he wasn't a monster hunter, but Carlisle was a Longinmouth, and a man with responsibility for the people of Bear Den. Healing the princess ought to be the easy part. The challenge would be convincing himself to take the journey in the first place.

Not that said journey ended up happening: that was when he awoke and found himself far in the future, far from home, and far from everything he'd ever known. In good news, there were no bears in space. Everything else, on the other hand, was bad news.


Personality:
It's unfortunate that Carlisle isn't much like his uncles: an ungainly and lanky individual, he lacks the immense strength of his warrior uncle, Boris; while bookish and not a complete failure with the art of conversation, he's on the gaunt side and doesn't have nearly the physical wiles of his other uncle, Benistad. Adventuring really isn't his forte, as he starts getting rattled at the mere thought of leaving the family home for more than a minute, even to go somewhere familiar like the temple. What's more is that he's not terribly invested in keeping dangers like the undead away, deciding instead to devote his life to trying to keep people alive so that they can't become undead in the first place.

However, though he's not interested in the family business in the way his uncles and his father ran it, he desperately wants to uphold their legacy. The Longinmouths brought prosperity to the region, using their skills as monster hunters to keep the town safe, and their wealth to keep the town afloat economically. Following their deaths, it fell to Carlisle to do that, and as he doesn't bring in nearly the same amount of fame or fortune, he feels he's letting down his entire lineage in some regard. Combine that guilt with the anxiety that rises in his gut when he even thinks about leaving Bear Den and everything he knows for too long, then add a dash of complications that arise from his condition whenever he's stressed, and that makes for one hell of a nervous man who spends far too much time concerned with how he presents himself to others to realize he's making things worse.

On top of that, once he gets started talking about his personal fears, he often can't quit for long enough to hear anything but his own voice, prattling to himself until someone stops him -- or he wears himself out, whichever comes first. The list of his woes is a long one: the fears of the dark, of death, of being in open spaces, of leaving no one to take care of those who need help, of dying miserably in a cave somewhere much like his father, covered in a swarm of eight-legged parasites born from the depths of the underworld, etc. While his position as a healer and man of the church pushes him to be concerned for the well-being of others, he often can't help but choose his own survival in a fight-or-flight scenario, much to his unending shame. When his life is on the line, his thoughts are consumed with the horror that he'll be on his way to the Land Beyond Living again... and that this time, his stay will be permanent.

Ultimately, apprehension has been one of the biggest influences in shaping Carlisle's anxious demeanor. It's hard to ignore the suspicion cast upon him regarding his condition; the thought of another interrogation terrifies him almost as much as that of his demise. Even the religious teachings he holds so dear say that the twice-cursed are irredeemable, their souls irreparably damaged to the point where they are more likely to cave to sin than to rise from it. That just makes him feel guilty every time does consider using his more unique abilities. Though it's essentially blasphemy to say otherwise, he desperately hopes to prove that doctrine wrong -- and in doing so, become more than the failure of the Longinmouth line that he's been thus far. The need to prove himself redeemable, and to avoid the fate that awaits him, is motivation enough to keep him going, despite his lonely circumstances.

However, he's not ignorant of his many shortcomings that stand in his way: he desperately wants to live up to his family name, but often finds himself completely incapable of doing so, whether it's because of his pacifism, his cowardice, or simply the fact that he knows he doesn't measure up to the example set by his father and uncles. He tends to be his own worst enemy, and is an expert at making a mountain out of a molehill when it comes to unsettling himself.

It's those nerves and the terrors of the unknown that have kept Carlisle from straying too far from his home town. Painfully aware of how unkind the world can be to the twice-cursed, he prefers solitude and tries to keep his condition under wraps so as not to taint the Longinmouth legacy with his mere existence. He can be a bitter thing regarding those who disrespect what they don't understand -- he gets that from living with his uncles as well, since they had an eager thirst for adventure and could never quite understand why their nephew had absolutely no taste for it. His twice-cursed condition has only exacerbated his aggravation in that regard, and while the people of Bear Den are well aware of who he is and what happened to him as a young lad, those outside the town are far quicker to judge him before they know anything other than the stock behind his name.

Despite his superstitious and high-strung nature, Carlisle can be a reasonably diplomatic and fair-minded individual, as well as a good improviser, which helps him serve as a trusted mediator for the local populace. Being a clergyman, he is considered a neutral party by most people of the region, and as such has been pulled in a number of times to settle disputes. Though usually willing to lend an ear to even the most unsavory of people, he tends to be callous and irritable when it comes to those who don't take him seriously, whether it's because of his devotion to the Camisou's ideals, his job as a healer rather than a fighter, or the fact that he doesn't look like he can lift anything heavier than a sack of potatoes and therefore doesn't belong in the Longinmouth family tree. Much like his fears, he tends to wear his aggravations on his sleeve, and doesn't particularly mask it when someone is an annoyance. The same goes for enthusiasm and excitement, both of which are rare treats he experiences sparingly; such moments are often followed by vigorous note-taking, a favorite pastime of his that he's found most people aren't particularly interested in hearing about.

Overall, he is used to just trying to stay out of trouble when it comes his way. Though not a trained fighter, he has had to handle his own in battle on at least a few occasions, which has led to him learning a lot about being resourceful with what he's carrying and if it can be used to help keep him alive. He managed to light a wooden golem on fire with a bottle of brandy and some minor magic once, and he'll do it again if he has to.

Of course, that's if he's not too busy panicking over the part where he might die.


Inventory:
      ♗ morningstar (never used; will probably be lost in five minutes)
      ♗ clergy outfit (pants, tunic, jacket, blue tabard, gloves, leather shoes)
      ♗ badger-skin bag in which he keeps the following:
      ♗ wooden talisman of the holy symbol of the Camisou
      ♗ inkpen & bottle of ink
      ♗ x12 x9 paper sheets
      ♗ a smooth stone
      ♗ book - "Alchemy for Beginners" by Pendlebrook Brimstone (autographed copy)
      ♗ flask of Dwarven ale (light enchantment to refill - takes about three days once empty)
      ♗ journal with personal writings

Abilities: This gets long, so link! I am dropping the skills he gained from Ataraxion's Abilities Grid (mostly an array of telekinetic stuff), since they're tied to the ship and it'll simplify things a bit for me. He had a permissions post set up for Ataraxion, so I don't mind either recycling that one or putting up a new one if necessary!

Flaws:
Carlisle is the sort whose personality exacerbates his flaws. He's generally in some state of unease, from "vaguely unsettled" to "downright terrified to the point of triggering his curse." He so fears his own death (the second one, not the first) that when confronted with anything he perceives as life-threatening, he'll put his own survival before that of others, even going so far as to compel people to protect him. That compulsion is sometimes a choice, albeit a terrible, regretful one; other times, it's the result of him panicking and losing control over his own abilities. Such behavior -- accidental or not -- brings on the guilt, as he knows good and well that such conduct is detestable and cowardly, as well as a shame to his entire name. That self-loathing then manifests as inconfidence.

Though he tries to be fairly diplomatic and see all sides of any argument, as is fitting for his profession, he can be incredibly ardent when it comes to the topic of religion, especially when his own deity is called into question. He's fine dealing with those who believe differently from himself; however, he outright scorns any who would belittle his goddess, sometimes to the point of losing his temper. While his zeal stems from his desire to prove himself redeemable, it also works against him as a constant reminder of how he, as a twice-cursed, is not worthy to serve his goddess. And that makes him angry, which turns into outright bitterness toward his circumstances, both of which are equally unbecoming of someone of his position.

CR AU
Previous Game and Time: ataraxion, from April 2015 - game close (March 2016)
Previous Development: Though he spent nearly a year away from his world, Carlisle is still more or less the same person he was when he left: still awkward, still nervous, still sure he's going to perish at any moment. His arrival aboard the Tranquility did bring one major difference to his life: a change in setting, and all the people along with it. While he struggled to adapt to the incredible technology of the future (and yes, he was -- is still -- afraid of that too), it was the people he found hardest to trust. Having spent nearly his entire life in one village and traveling beyond its borders only when his duty called, he was used to knowing almost everyone and everything that went on. That amount of control over his life had served him well the last several years.

So naturally, having all that stripped away made it hard for him to settle in when it came to the Tranquility. Though he made a few acquaintances here and there, he mostly kept to himself. The ship was big enough to avoid people, but it was also rumored to be some kind of living entity -- a dangerous one, at that. He stuck primarily to the living quarters and tried not to get too mixed up in the spooky goings-on of the ship.

And then said ship crashed into a planet, stranding the passengers in a dense jungle, and he had to start all over again.

The crash brought a bout of amnesia to everyone who had been aboard, and for Carlisle, this meant not remembering the fact he was cursed. For him, it was a breath of fresh air: the guilt he'd felt over his condition ebbed away, leaving someone with more confidence in his abilities and an eagerness to use them to help others, despite not realizing why he had them in the first place. He got out, started talking with the other survivors of the crash, traded his skills for some goods, and even made some new associates. The ship's influence over the survivors granted them new abilities -- Carlisle developed telekinesis, which gave him one more reason to speak to others and inquire about their strange, new gifts. There were some bumps along the way, such as an incident involving hallucinations and masks, but all and all, things were going well.

And then a group of aliens called the Crickets arrived, and abducted a number of the survivors, Carlisle included. They were away from camp for over a month, and kept in a comatose state while the Crickets checked for signs of an infection that was running rampant through the jungle's wildlife. Once they were cleared, the kidnapped crew were released back to the base camp. That was good. What wasn't good was that Carlisle woke up remembering all he was and all he'd been before the crash.

The guilt came back, as well as the knowledge of all of his abilities... and with them, inward antipathy. One of his acquaintances (one he'd nearly have called a friend!) tried to help bolster his confidence in his own abilities, insisting he use them should he find himself in danger.

He did find himself in danger soon after, though when it came to defending himself, he went about it all wrong. As a stampede of enraged beasts threatened the camp, his panic caused him to unconsciously pull others to him, his power over influence forcing them to help him at the risk of their own lives. Once he realized they were there, he couldn't help himself: he sided with his fears and consciously put them to work, compelling them to fight a dangerous beast in his stead. Back home, such a trick might have worked, as people were easier to control, less accustomed to such powers; however, in a place where people were pulled from all different worlds and times, he was bound to bump into someone who was familiar with compulsion.

And he did. Said person snapped to her senses during the brawl with the beast, and rightfully turned on him. Worse was that she knew who he was, and was a friend of a friend -- of just about the only friend he had left in the strange, new world.

The fight ended well enough, but damage had been done. Though he went back to avoiding the other survivors, especially those he'd taken control of, Carlisle knew he couldn't remain a solitary creature. People were disappearing from the camp daily, and there was no way he was going to make it alone. On top of that, he'd committed a horrible sin for his own survival, and he needed to make amends for that. He'd risked the lives of others; it was only appropriate he repay that debt, especially if he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of his goddess, the Camisou.

And it was about then that the wreck of the Tranquility, which had been precariously perched at the edge of a ravine since the crash, finally fell.

Note! And that's when the game ended! He didn't get as much development as I would have liked because of some events and a couple of hiatuses on my part, so I was hoping to work on him making amends within Hadriel -- and he sort of can, as two of the people from the compulsion fight are actually in the game now (Rey [circumitus and Firo [foundafamily], both played by the same players and everything). They aren't CRAU and won't remember him, but he'll remember what he did and that he's oath-bound to his goddess to do what he can to make things right, so that'll be a step toward development with him. In addition, a cloned version of Glacius (glacius) was his friend in the game (also played by the same player), so that's another springboard for development for him, even though Glacius won't know who he is at all.

I've spoken with Revu, Erin, and Ano (Rey, Firo, and Glacius' players, respectively) to check if it was okay to have Carlisle coming in knowing them, and they said they'd be cool with it! For anyone else he was acquaintances with character-wise, I'm just going to play that he doesn't remember them. With all the hiatuses, crash, amnesia, and horror events, he had a lot on his mind -- and with some other gods hanging out openly in Hadriel, he'll have even more.

SAMPLES
Action Log Sample: As the door swung open and finally creaked to an unceremonious halt, Carlisle greeted his new home. "I, uh... suppose this is it," he said aloud, as though the apartment would respond in agreement. Though the room before him gave no reply, this was indeed it, whatever it entailed in Carlisle's mind; the reality of it was a single-bedroom residence on the upper floors of one of the towers. It was a quiet dwelling, lonely, one that made less and less sense upon closer inspection. In that regard, it was a lot like the new owner himself.

"Yes, this is it," Carlisle answered himself after a few more seconds of silence, finally willing his feet to cross the threshold so that he could take a better look at what he assumed would be his home for the time being. His eyes took in all the details, picking up on the negative ones first: the furniture seemed too tall for most people, the lights a little too dim for reading, the doors skinnier than they ought to be. Venturing further in revealed more, such as several sizable devices he didn't recognize -- all likely horrible, if his experience with future technology had taught him anything. He could experiment later: for the time being, he wanted to rest and clear his head.

That notion of rest brought him to the positives of the apartment. First, there was a bed, one that literally filled the bedroom, the mattress stretching from wall to wall as though the room had been built around it. Much like a ship in a glass bottle, there was no conceivable way the bed could have fit through the far-too-thin doorway. Nonetheless, it was a bed, and as long as it was softer and had less bugs crawling through it than the jungle floor, he'd consider it an improvement over his previous living conditions. The second positive was the window in the far wall, which, from his vantage at the top of the tower, offered a fair view of the underground city... what there was to see of it, at least. The walk up and down each day would be taxing, but he supposed the long trek would give him some thinking time (and probably mild nausea, as was the norm any time he traversed a spiral staircase).

Last, but absolutely not least, there was water. Clean, non-acidic, probably-safe-because-it-didn't-have-monsters-swimming-in-it water. He could bathe again -- regularly -- as well as wash his clothes. Of the many amenities he'd missed from his family estate in Bear Den, clean water was near the very, very top of his list. His poor tabard had seen better days, as the grime of the jungle had long ago permeated every thread that composed it.

And for the first time since his arrival in the city -- perhaps since his arrival in the future -- Carlisle didn't feel so bad about his prospects. "You know," he said as he eyed the oversized sofa, one nearly large enough to challenge the bed for dominance over the rest of the furniture, "this might be a blessing in disguise. This isn't home, but this is certainly better than being shipwrecked in a godless jungle."

The Tranquility and the planet it had crashed into had definitely been godless, as far as he was concerned; however, the city seemed to have an abundance of them. "They call themselves gods," he uttered, working through his thought process aloud in case the couch was listening. "I was told they're tied to emotions, of all things. That they need us in some way. What kind of gods could they possibly be if that's the case? Not strong enough to govern a world without us."

He worked as a clergyman himself; nearly half his entire life had been devoted to his goddess, but that didn't mean she wasn't perfectly capable of managing the world without him or any other mortal. He was simply there to help others, to guide them to her path so their souls were not lost. Betterment for the Camisou was betterment for all life -- that alone justified his servitude, even though he had other, more personal reasons for his devotion.

These other gods, though... were they expecting to be served in the same way? Were they worshiped, and if so, where were their followers?

"Hm." Carlisle crossed his arms, walking past the couch to the window, the light below reflecting on his glasses as he picked nervously at his sleeve. His eyes trailed from building to building, finally landing on one of the temples.

He hmmed a second time to himself, biting his lip as he made some considerations. "I don't believe for one second that they're true gods," he announced to the couch -- it continued to ignore him, as furniture often did when spoken to -- "but I suppose a small venture into one of those temples couldn't hurt. At best, I'll perhaps get some answers."

And at worst, he'd be confronted by the aforementioned worshipers, who wouldn't be happy he'd barged into their temple. That'd be just terrible.

"On second thought, I suppose it could hurt. And if I'm to be killed, I'd at least like to have slept in a proper bed one last time."

And so, he sighed and turned toward the bedroom, sure that if the couch had been capable of sentience, it'd have certainly been judging him for his decision. Perhaps the bed would be more forgiving in all aspects, both literal and imaginative.

Hey gang! Carlisle comes with a host of abilities ranging from "sort of useful" to "well, this is a complete and utter crapshoot, and if it doesn't help somehow, we're doomed." One of these abilities is known in his world as Influence. It's a magic that directly affects a person's aura, soul, or the equivalent thereof in living and undead beings. Here's the blurb from his app:

A byproduct of his condition as a twice-cursed, this magic affects the very auras and souls of those around him, compelling them to action -- or inaction, in some cases. How he can use this ability varies depending on the situation and what he is trying to influence his target to do: he can calm minds, sending people from a blind rage to being slightly less than hostile; he can compel people to either attack or not attack someone; he can cause fear in some subjects, while forcing others to tell the truth or lies. He can even attempt to have people perform more complex tasks, such as crafting something, provided they know how to do it in the first place. He can only influence them to do something they logically can do, but not give them the knowledge on how. This kind of magic is classified as aural magic, and is a relative oddity in Carlisle's world that is usually available only to the twice-cursed. It's both powerful and hard to control: he cannot choose specific targets with this magic, and thus it affects everyone within a certain radius of him, including Carlisle himself. For RP-purposes, the range is much closer (only those about 10 yards from him would be in range), and whether or not a character is affected is up to the player's discretion.

Short version: he's got an ability that can compel people to do stuff. People who are have supernaturally strong willpower (like gods and such) would be able to easily resist it, while other people are hit or miss. Golems and other constructs, having never been living, are completely unaffected, as are canonically soulless characters or those who have their souls in separate vessels.

I fully intend to message the player(s) in a thread if he ever uses this ability around folks, but if you want to save me time, feel free to leave me a comment here letting me know if you're generally down for this sort of thing, absolutely never ever want to play with it, or whatever!

And to save you time, here's a box!

<b>Name:</b> you <b>Character:</b> your character <b>Is your character capable of being compelled:</b> yes, no, why, etc. <b>Want to opt out of it entirely for whatever reason: no reason required! A yes is all I need, and I'll steer clear of it in threads with you!

Thanks guys!

Abilities, Weaknesses and Power Limitations:
   

TWICE-CURSED
CONDITION
	A clergyman by trade, Carlisle has an affinity for healing and a dislike for the undead. A pacifist by his very nature, this lifestyle has led him to study primarily spells of utilitarian purpose rather than those that might cause harm to others, as many other casters would. Like most magicians in his world, he practices somatic spells, and requires his hands for the application of his magic; however, as a twice-cursed, he also has access to aural magic, which affects -- and is affected by -- the very aura of of a person. Aside from his spellcasting and the affinities granted to him by his twice-cursed condition, he is a normal human being, and can die just as easily as one. As the title implies, Carlisle is indeed cursed: his mouth is the site of his affliction, and in times of stress or when his nerves get the better of him, he loses the ability to speak his native language, or any of the other ones he knows. During these times, the only language he is able to either speak or understand is Des, the language of the Shroud. While this isn't a detriment to his own spellcasting, it can be a hindrance to spells and commands others are trying to use on him that have language-dependent components. Aware of the nature of his curse, Carlisle isn't too keen on others knowing about his condition, especially given that he's a man of the church who sometimes get stuck speaking the native language of all things considered unholy in his world. When speaking in Des, his dialogue looks like this. Through years of study and the occasional encounter, he is fairly fluent in his world's versions of Common, Elvish, Draconic, and Anaric; he also knows a handful of phrases in the gibberish language of the Forest Folk who live around Bear Den.
MAGIC
Though one of the worst fighters imaginable due to his timid and often cowardly nature, Carlisle is a very adept spellcaster. While most of his spells rely on his own skills as a healer and eksth'alva ('magical energy'), some -- namely his aural magic -- are affected by his targets themselves, such as spells with compulsory or mind-altering effects. Primary exceptions to this would be if said target is an outright god or someone with supernaturally high willpower. If you're unsure about something, feel free to drop me a PM so we can hash it out!
Minor Magics
	These spells are basic magic manipulation that any wizard worth their salt could cast in Carlisle's world. He can conjure light (either orbs or drawn lines), sparks, puffs of smoke, small flowers, water (about two cups at a time), or handfuls of feathers, sand, or powder. Though he could start a fire with such magic if provided tinder, this kind of magic is mostly prestidigitation. These spells are either somatic and require a gesture for the conjuring, or are focused and cast through a drawn glyph. With his shaky hands ruining any attempt at drawing lines, Carlisle is a subpar glyphcrafter and prefers to use gestures for these when he can.
Healing the Living
	Healing is Carlisle's specialty: he not only has a natural talent for it, but is also well-versed in the art of putting someone back together via magical means. His spells can close wounds without leaving a scar, mend bones as though they'd never been broken at all, and even see the vague glimpses of the last waking moments of an unconscious or freshly dead target by putting a hand on them. He can handle quite a bit of this kind of magic without wearing himself out, but he has his limits and knows he's coming to them when he either starts suffering a massive headache, or the black bile ("concentrated sin," as his uncles used to call it) starts welling in his mouth or under his fingernails. This magic is somatic in nature -- he has to use his hands to cast these spells, and has to be touching the target being healed for the magic to be effective.
Influence
	A byproduct of his condition as a twice-cursed, this magic affects the very auras and souls of those around him, compelling them to action -- or inaction, in some cases. How he can use this ability varies depending on the situation and what he is trying to influence his target to do: he can calm minds, sending people from a blind rage to being slightly less than hostile; he can compel people to either attack or not attack someone; he can cause fear in some subjects, while forcing others to tell the truth or lies. He can even attempt to have people perform more complex tasks, such as crafting something, provided they know how to do it in the first place. He can only influence them to do something they logically can do, but not give them the knowledge on how. This kind of magic is classified as aural magic, and is a relative oddity in Carlisle's world that is usually available only to the twice-cursed. It's both powerful and hard to control: he cannot choose specific targets with this magic, and thus it affects everyone within a certain radius of him, often including Carlisle himself. For RP-purposes, the range is much closer (only those within 10 yards or so from him would be in range), and whether or not a character is affected is up to the player's discretion.
Dealing with the Undead
	Like many other twice-cursed, Carlisle has an attunement toward the undead. He can vaguely sense when one is in his immediate area, speak with them, and wound certain ones a little by channeling healing magic -- though this would require him actually getting close enough to touch one, and that's something he'd rather avoid at all costs. In his world, his condition is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to dealing with the undead. To the less intelligent ones, such as your run-of-the-mill zombies and mindless aberrations, he is practically invisible -- after his own near-death experience, his own aura was tainted to the point that they cannot tell the difference between his aura and that of another undead creature. However, the more intelligent undead creatures can tell the difference. They look at his condition as an advantage to be used against them, and consider him more of a threat because of it; thus, when the undead invade Bear Den, he's probably going to be the first one they target. Lucky him. This kind of magic is considered aural in nature, and while Carlisle knows he can harm the undead and sense them, he is unaware of how they can, in turn, sense him.