|Help Search Members Calendar Shoutbox|
|Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )||Resend Validation Email|
Nier (Brother), Nier: Replicant
Faded, dim, lifeless eyes
Roses of Stagnation - After relying upon the inventions of man to kill, Simeon, while relishing in the irony of using their weapons against them, could not see them as satisfactory tools when utilized against the greater threats within and without mankind. Thus, he turned to pure magical weaponry: a pair of pistol-shaped foci that concentrated the energy emitted by Noontide, firing pale bolts that dissolved their contact area to naught but dust, similar to its final effect. Of course, they function well enough within Noontide, itself.
Oddly enough, they seem to 'hum' with a very faint vitality. This may be the result of breaking down the bones of his Idle Hands repeatedly in between resurrections during the five years of silence into the metal from which these foci consist.
Noontide - An expression of his corrupting capabilities as the deadly sin of sloth. Made active on his command, an invisible field forms around Simeon, spanning, at most, a 25 feet radius. Within it, time is stopped for all non-living things, and slowed to a fourth for the living besides himself. Even magical spells are halted in their place. Those inside of his field begin to lose all sense of will and motivation at a gradual pace, hopelessness breaching their minds. Should a person surrender totally to apathy, they shrivel and decay to dust, as if time had accelerated completely for their physical forms.
Body of Sloth - Since becoming one of the Sins, Simeon was granted a body with physical ability exceeding the natural peak of humanity. However, he is capable of further strengthening himself by simply remaining inactive, idly feeding on his own laziness and that of others. This is the other reason for his remaining in Alptraum. At maximum capacity, he can level a small stone fortress with a punch requiring all of his might. However, at the moment of exertion, his strength will slowly drain to normal levels over half of an hour. It is a gift wasted on his lack of ability in a hand-to-hand fight.
Non-presence - His very status as a living being can be suppressed entirely, for a man apparently devoid of the drive to do or become anything may as well not be something that exists as a thinking person. Spells and traps that trigger or work upon the condition that the target is a living, sentient being do not affect him. He has no desires, no thoughts, no mind, no body, yet he does. To the world, he is simply a thing that is there.
Immortal Sin - Simeon cannot die by any means other than his superior, the current Pride. Whenever he is laid low, he returns to Alptraum to recover for a week.
As the very embodiment of the deadly sin of sloth, Simeon is one of, if not the least likely, out of his fellow Sins to ever willingly perform his listed duty of 'destroying and corrupting' outside of a direct command. To simplify his general demeanor towards everything and anything, he'd much rather lay around in the Tower, reading books than to personally involve himself with matters of the mortal sort. For this reason and another, he utilizes his 'Hands' to represent his will, scattered throughout the continent, while he remains within the Tower of Babel. There is no action that is worth the effort for its execution. But, for Pride's sake, he'd at least perform the absolute minimum of what is expected of him.
He subscribes to the belief that humanity is doomed to destroy itself, and that the Poena Damni are only agents to push its self-destruction forward. People are more likely to follow the majority than to embrace the independence granted to them, stupid lambs that enjoy their places within their categorically-sorted pens. Instead of making a direct effect on the world and its populace, he mingles with them instead, spreading hopelessness and apathy to the people through his Hands, hoping that they would see the truth that he sees. Simeon takes no pleasure in the shattering of their hopes, but he absolutely despises the naive notion that true freedom exists through perseverance and dreams. It is simply incompatible with his mindset.
Manipulative and cunning, Simeon is thankful that those qualities rationalize his staying within the Tower, as he believes that he is far more useful in the back lines. Despite the looseness of the organization of which he is a part, he does occasionally attempt interaction with his fellow Sins to point them in one direction or another, while also acknowledging that he is in no position to give orders, so that they might reach a goal that they seek. Yet, he is also quick to dissect people in a metaphorically perverse manner, uncaring for their anger or embarrassment, as a means of understanding. It is more something he does to pass the time than to prod at any emotional weakness. If given the ability to command, he will do so with exceptional skill stemming from years and years of experience in true war.
To mortals, he is quite open with his being the representation of their sloth, apathetic towards their reaction to the revelation. However, he may become amicable to whomever meets his apathy with their own apathy. They understand meaninglessness, the ephemeral nature of all, and the worthlessness of a single life. Yet, while worthless, a single life may still yet hold purpose, even if it is towards a goal that cannot be accomplished. To embrace this purpose is one of the only redeeming possible qualities he can discern.
Simeon is usually difficult to converse with, speaking in circles when he has the opportunity to be succinct in his explanations and addressing of various philosophical quandaries.
Ultimately, after years of further stagnation despite his freedom, the Sin had come to his own conclusion regarding the fate of mankind, the achievement of his final death, and the role of the Poena Damni as a whole: to bury humanity underneath its sins, not to destroy them, but to bring to a reset all of the world. If it creates a new world greater than the present, then so be it. But, if not... so be it. Even with a goal in mind, Simeon's apathy still manifests itself.
There was a time when Simeon Zhirayr possessed the passion of a real person, enough that he dedicated his all to anything and everything that he did. As a child, he would spend so long practicing instruments, studying, learning his words, his numbers, his sciences. He wasn't at all a prodigy, only someone upon whom the idea of working hard to receive true happiness was instilled so early in his life. In time, he had become an officer within the military of his country.
And unfortunately, he was upon the wrong side of history, as he had ended up diligently serving the corrupt monarchy that opposed the Crux Fidelis. Even if it was the wrong side of history, he was still as driven as ever, a losing war not an excuse at all to hold back.
They burst through the door of the fortress within which the young officer gave his commands, and a particularly vicious Hallowed strode towards him, his Bellicosa drawn at his neck. Simeon wasn't at all a match for the trained soldier, having little to no experience fighting in a battle that truly risked his own life. With a face of pure disdain, the Hallowed struck him down, but not before giving into his fury and imprisoned him in a block of everlasting ice. The fortress crumbled down upon him, but the structure of the war room minimized whatever had fallen upon his iced-up head.
For years, he had been trapped inside of his own mind, which, for some reason, continued to function. Within his home of ice, he contemplated, raged at the heavens, raged at the world for the reward that it gave to him for his virtuous dedication to achieving happiness. Was it simply his being unlucky that the man had been so angry? For fifty years, Simeon lived with himself and his thoughts with little hope of escape, and without hope, apathy crept inward. This was to be his prison until the world broke apart at its very end.
Perhaps it was chance, or perhaps it was fate. Regardless of which it was, one day, the rubble was flung from around his prison, and somehow, the ice dissipated around his form. As he looked upon his savior, too weak to even push himself up off the ground, he chuckled. He laughed. He laughed so hard that it hurt. It was when he was finally free that Simeon realized that he'd much rather remain in that ice block, or more preferably, die.
"I am dead. Thus, you must make it so."
And he died. Lucifer killed him. But, waking from the coldness of his demise, he opened his eyes to the Tower of Babel's high ceiling, his form much more youthful, much stronger. It was a body that was more capable than the one he had in his first life. But, that hopelessness and despair remained. More than that, it had festered. He looked up at his savior again, and relented to her authority.
Death was still preferable.
With this wish still burning in his mind, he served the Poena Damni as well as he could even as he mostly remained in the tower. Simeon could not tell whether or not this compliance was forced upon him during his transformation, and for years, he would not receive his answer.
This inability to know, his disdain for Pride's rule, his immortality, his constant inner comparisons between his Present and his Past sparked and frustrated his mind to the point of furious activity, reawakening the tactician's prowess within him. It did not help that his walking along the humans, his closer analyses, and, ultimately, the clash between the Horsemen and the Sins stirred an alien call to action. What he must act upon, at that point, he did not know.
But, five years of working in his element, in secrecy, eventually drew him to a single conclusion: by removing Lucifer, he'd be able to seize back control over his own life. Maybe then, he'd receive the death he so sought. But, how would he die?
While remaining as subservient to Lucifer as he could, Simeon fostered his omnidirectional dissatisfaction. Humanity was doomed. Sillage was a curse. The very concept of ruling over people and its complimentary concept of destroying who rules would continue forever and ever, culminating in war. Megalomania persisted eternally. The prelude and aftermath of the civil war did not prove otherwise. The conflict between the Cross and Apocrypha did not prove otherwise. The short-lived war between the Black Sun Cabal and the Poena Damni did not prove otherwise.
Could the usurpation of a god allow him to reset everything to zero?
While he had no ability to act on his curiosity, after the re-emergence of the Sins, he carried a sort of faith that he'll find a solution somehow, whether it was located with the assistance of others or without. The world had changed, and with change came opportunity.
Mankind required both destruction and rebirth. Should all be reverted, they may prove themselves to be better. But, he had no hope. Regardless of the conclusion of his pursuit, he'll find death sooner or later. Maybe all he sought from taking down Lucifer was merely a sense of satisfaction? Simeon didn't know. Simeon didn't care. In this way, he would perform the duty expected of him as a Deadly Sin of the Poena Damni: Indulge, destroy, and indulge upon the destruction of mankind.
"There is always the possibility of impossibility. Take that as you will."
Megalomania was created by the staff team with inspiration from various magic/fantasy series. The skin was coded by Hiraeth exclusively for Megalomania using Merc's push sidebar, Black's formatted code/quote blocks, and posiden5665's default avatar code. The banner was drawn by -2x2-. Icons/macros were provided by FontAwesome. All characters, concepts, and other written works belong to their respective posters. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.