- Intro Video
A truly weird and sort of sad tune, I felt that Aequilibrium’s sad melodies fit this character very well.
- Who Am I...
Atreas, The Fallen One, Convict-17, Foul Homie. He has gone by many names; but now he prefers to be known as "No One."
- Romantic Interests
Olympus help the poor person/mortal who takes the Slave of Hades to their bed, but he would not hesitate to love any willing body.
- Relationship Status
Eternally bound to the God of the Underworld, but he might be given permission to have a partner.
- My Story Is...
Come… and let me tell you of a tale from long long ago. In the days of ancient golden grasses and tall oaks now long fallen under a mountain’s worth of dirt and time. When warriors were Men in fur cloak and sparce bits of metal in the form of helmets and shields. Steel sword and the blood of their savage ancestors running wild in the untamed country. When Greece… first began to rise from the ashes of chaos. Then came the Great War of the titans and the olympians, and all of that is old history. But this story I tell you now stretches all the way even now to this very moment. Where one tortured soul is forever doomed to his fate for no reason more than the sake of compassion. Once there was a young Demi-God, known as Atreas… the Will of Ares. Born from the womb of a powerful witch in the underworld known as Quelaag, he was given no time or any sort of child hood. Or a moment to enjoy it, he was raised in the fires of the Netherrealm and his mother’s servants trained him from birth. For he was to be the son of the War God and make good name of it, from his adulthood on he took commands from Lord Ares. Their humanity… robbed of him. Stolen at birth, and replaced only? With the will… to Murder. Whole legions fell singlehandedly by their blade, entire Empires crushed. Broken into small warring states by thunderous hooves and sentenced to eternal conflict by a Warrior. Black as night with a blade that could melt through Soul-Tissue in its molten fury. Riding a massive black horse backed by ten-thousand harpies and demons from the fiery pits of the Underworld. But every mortal he slew, every village he burned and Realm he broke he in the name of War. Marred his soul like burning coals on their heart. Atreas could no longer bare what he was doing, and so one day traveled long and hard to the tops of Mount Olympus. Not only daring to tread where mortals rarely were welcome to go, but he crumbled to his father’s knees as he bid. Pleading desperately, “Why Father? Why do you command me to do these terrible things?” But to Ares? This was a sign of weakness, and he did not say a word but took his magic. And bound his son in the fiery chains of Chaos in an enchanted ring where he kneel on the floor. They slammed around his neck and burst out of the marble floors of the brilliant palace, but the shining light of Olympus did not dull the searing pain as he was slowly dragged into the portal. Ares said not a word, but there in the sight of all the Gods banished his own son to the Underworld’s worst and most torturous prison for Souls. The Green Rose… or as the inmates call it The Shack. It was there that he woke in the bottom of the darkest pit that you could have ever imagined. I mean so pitch black… that after a few hours he thought it robbed him of his sight. But little did he know that they would still have to spend thirty more years in the pit to complete his first Cycle…
Lemme explain a bit. In Green Rose, there are these two states of the facility for the damned people and demons sentenced there. In one instance, for a hundred fucking years. One hundred years of genuine conscious time is spent in that black pit, most Inmates just call it the Pit. Some the Hole, the Garage. But you really really hate the Pit, they starve you and the walls are dry and dusty except when all of the sudden they’re drenched. And you wake up swimming and choking on water in the dark, but you’re so thirsty? You don’t even care, they take it away from you as quickly as it shows up though. Then it’s back to crawling in the dark, hoping an arm or some loose part of a goat might appear to feed you with. If you’re lucky, they’ll give you maggoty bread. Dead serious, that’s the luckiest bit cause to Cellmate-Seventeen? That is the the most nutrition that he’s going to get aside from eating the physical form of another soul. Which… lemme tell you, a place like Green Rose requires you to devolve.
That is the best word to use for it. Ah C-17, it’s really horrible what the Garage can do to a person. A GOD; he once road in the flying chariots of the Olympians. But now he is crawling in the dark decrepit depths of Hades, the worst of the worst. When Hell doesn’t like another Demon so much, they send them into Green Rose. So you’ve got all these human souls from prisoners who die in Jail in the Mortal World, with ravenous demons alongside them
Welcome to the Second Cycle, Recess
Recess lasts ten years and takes place in a massive facility. That is truly as if someone took every prison ever made, stuffed it with the worst shit and traps you could ever imagine in your demented head? And combined that all together in a concrete jungle that stretches for Eons brother… there is no End to the Green Rose. You’ll die before you get too far because the joint is so dangerous, but Hades likes the sisters of Fate. He enjoys watching the spare few find a way to survive, those who win his favor end up like Atreas. Once he was just an ordinary looking being, beautiful even… his pale skin and dark black hair with blue eyes. But after getting jumped a few times in his first Recess and starting to figure out how things work around here? They learned two things; weapons break and can be dropped? And it’s way more important down here fighting to win rather than with Honor. So it was much more worth investing into mastering Unarmed fighting; which took him down a dark deep path that ate away at his own humanity now while spending endless hours back in the pit. Punching the wall and exercising, training himself in the darkness. Anyways, another thing that really sucks about Recess is the Nothing. That is its name all fear, demons and souls alike when they hear its clicking rumbling smoke-like form come tunneling through the facility. Either that? Or the small parasitic demons released during “Feeding Time” that possess the souls of Men and Demon into horrid abominations. So when you’re dodging gangsters and trying to find the man who can hit you up with a cup of ramen or a pack of smokes. Getting chased by a giant cloud of violent hungry blood mist that becomes gray; it takes a toll. This was how it goes… ten years in Recess, a hundred years in the Pit. Ten years in Recess, a hundred years in the Pit. Every time he went back it got worse and worse, he lost bits and pieces of himself every time. Not even the powers of a God can save one from such a torturous a fate, this he learned himself when four souls jumped him and stabbed him to death outside of the water place. Another thing to understand… that water leaks from the walls in certain areas where it is most inconvenient usually. A high ledge in a sharp angled pit that’s right next to a lot of spikes you see another guy’s mangled corpse stuck on. It’s an awful situation, and to be held down and stabbed to death with pieces of glass to earn his first and only stay in the Infirmary? God awful
But the Gods can not save you in the worst part of the Green Rose demonic “rehabilitation” facility.
Some say that the Infirmary is where souls go to disappear forever, like M.I.A. “Nevah to be seen again homie.” After all he was not the first to wear ‘C-17′ on his neck, there have been many Convict 17’s. But they were the most recent to go into the Underworld: Men are broken in ways of which that they have never been before, having their sparks slowly taken away by painful cuts of the scalpel. What ever was left of Atreas’ mind was snapped as he was held down in a chair time and time again while loud music he couldn’t understand blasted in his ears. Strange visions and horrors slashing at his sight while he reeled in agony, and every time that you die in Green Rose you must spend not a hundred, not two hundred no. A thousand years inside of the Infirmary, where when you first wake up? You immediately have to find your way out of a locked room or else a tall demon with a loud scary chainsaw will come to gut your ass. For all he does is walk up and down a long long hallway opening door after door in it. Room after room where the souls first spawn in the Infirmary after death, which you’d think they’d cut you a break after dying so horribly once right? No… in the Infirmary death is just the start of your suffering. They will seize you, and bound you to a table where they pull off nails and fingers. Slabs of flesh Atreas watched get removed and tossed into a silver dish by a doctor cloaked head to toe in bright white. The white in the Infirmary makes you want to kill yourself if it’d do anything to escape it, but never. It will never stop for ten whole cycles of your sorry ass, chased by scary monsters and hospital related horrors alongside other terrified souls. Truly the worst fate for an innocent Man
When Atreas woke back up in the pit, the pitch cold darkness and emptiness was a welcome sight from the white. To be free from that place… made the Garage more like its own little slice of heaven. He licked weakly at the wet floor when the water ran its slow course at some point and nibbled at a tender thumb. Losing his basic skill and intuition eventually, he earned the nick name ‘Foul Homie’ from ripping another soul’s neck out during a huge Riot. Riots in Recess were pretty much titanic battles between huge gangs of inmates and demons that span across the Chaos of Green Rose. They try to break up the fighting by flipping gravity and dividing the floor over a huge pit leading to the River Styx. But the gangsters always find a way to each other, even if they have to fly to it to do their scrapping. “Earn that ink” they’d say, a battle cry before they go and stab some random bastard. To kill another soul and banish his ass to the Infirmary is to earn a scary black tattoo etched into your flesh somewhere. Representing that kill and your rank, as well as telling a bit of a story or marking some piece of the barer’s life. Some people have the names of their children tatted on their bodies, from Life. Helps them keep their sanity in this demented place, but some wear no ink. A sign of weakness for all, but there is one covered in so much ink. Some even got burned off during his incident… The Demi-God was always seen as a lonewolf in the prison, a Nobody. Always out of the way, keeping to himself and handling his own business. From time to time… making bargains and doing jobs for others. They got the nick-name from some of the other inmates there when they saw him after a fight or something eating a few of the other dead prisoners. But no Soul after watching him gouge a man’s eyes out then snap his neck wanted fire with Atreas, but one demon heard his name with bitter disgust. For long ago he was actually the great Demigod that slew his mortal form. Belzur’eladi was the creatures name but you’d dare not try and speak it, or he’d come right now and drink our blood. For now he roams the land unchecked by his Master, and all those who mispronounce his name can be felt by his bloody hands. For this demon is one of the foulest most rank beasts in the pits of Hades, straight from the deepest parts of the River Styx. He dragged himself from the Abysm and made Chaos look like a picnic party. They caused such devastation in Hell that Hades had to conjure up the help of his brothers Zeus and Ares. Both of whom sent their mightiest champions riding from the heavens in chariots of gold to assault the mighty Belzur’eladi. Do not fear, I have told this story so many times that it makes my brain hurt. I know this name very well… he shall not have my blood
Atreas and the other new Olympian, Hercules cast the demon back into the farthest, blackest cell in all of Green Rose. Chaining him to the floor and locking him in a cage so tight they were not even permitted to breathe. Caught in eternal darkness forever, and the two demigods left the beast in its chamber. Unguarded… a mistake he’d regret for the rest of his existence. For it was not too long of conscious effort soon he was freed. Roaming the Recess yard and faculty unchecked once more as he torched lost souls and rampaged in his pod. Luckily the ‘Guards’ are usually pretty good at containing him, these strange creatures that resemble men in tight black leather with bits of metal. If you break them open? The Nothing immediately comes swarming out of their bodies and teleports to where ever the guard died. Every guard in the area will burst open too if one does the same, furthering the size and swelling the volume the Nothing possesses. Which is… horrifying. Cause he will crush you into a fine paste and use your blood orbs to further its mass, whole pods can get choked out by the Nothing if homies fuck up. That’s why you have to control the riot, or else the Nothing will consume every body. Then again? If you just punch the fuck out of one of those slow moving and machine like guards (Till they go into defense mode that is). To which they get the reflexes of a martial arts master and receive permission to draw out their pistol or machine guns. Hell is a horrible mess of magic and technology, and once? Chilling on a tall platform while listening to the sounds of gang business below. Various screaming and shouts of “What’s up?” in the even further pods below them. Who knows how far down Green Rose goes? One guy made a parachute once and tried to float down to the bottom, but someone said that some big dark thing grabbed him in the middle of his descent so. We’ll never know, only that thing that swooped away with him will ever have that information. But besides the bones that were at the bottom of this horrid pit? Atreas heard a few footsteps padding lightly with sneaker covered feet stepping towards them. You could not blame him for spinning around so fast, the moment he did of which one of his fellow inmates suddenly stood now. Holding a sharp white piece of a bone he made into a shiv while his pursed lips tensed with anxiety. Lunging forwards as they attempted to stab the demigod in the chest. But that man twisted with ease, his long hair spinning in the air as its black lengths fell back to the side of his head while their left elbow spun around. Cracking the other convict in the nose with a ‘THWACK-‘ while his right arm wraps around his shiv-hand. Another prisoner ran up to join the fight as well but his left foot snapped up to kick them in the stomach. The other man struggles, so he twists around with them still held in his strong-arm’s grip. To which he threw them over the railing as his screaming voice reeled backwards into the black depths. Other prisoners laughing somewhere else and the skin-headed man he circled with now with tense fists and what used to be a comb in their fist. Which bled around the plastic instrument he gripped and promised, “You’ll pay for that.”
“Wanna join your man in the Infirmary?” The Demigod snarled, tensing with curled claws and open palms he was preparing to use at any cost to protect his body. But the other inmate does not respond at all besides but to rush the being with a violent swing. It came overhead, aiming for his face and chest which would have been a nice slice/plunge if Convict-17 wasn’t trained by literal demons. No childhood, no compassion or real love from his parents; especially their old man. No, Atreas had blocked a hundred overheads at this point in his life with in the past week, he didn’t give a fuck. It always left their right side open, or the left depending on which hand they used. So Atreas used his left hand with a raised middle finger? And drove it straight into that poor bastard’s ribs to a vile ‘CRRK’. Causing him to reel back while he sucked in a gasp of air that showed how he lost their wind. Some of it atleast, but when they get punched straight in the face then headbutt so hard they fly back into the floor? All the bald man could do was lay there with his bloody nose as he slid to a stand still and groan violently. Rising quickly as the approach of the savage being known only as Foul Homie to the gangsters came swiftly. Atreas was so overwhelming, he kicked them in the knee super hard them snapped it up into their abdomen so fast. He had no time to prepare for the jaw-breaking left uppercut that lead a smashing right hand. Slamming into them with such intense force his skull shattered like the skin of a melon underneath his fleshy bald head. But you could see the bloody dent where the Demi-God banished his soul to the Netherrealm’s worst hell. He spat hard on the corpse where it lay face down in a puddle before he bid, “You are a fucking piece of shit.” Then slowly he turned to leave this cell-area for the moment, when suddenly out of nowhere a deep voice cried
“Ay yo, Foul!!”
How could Atreas not turn to face the one who was calling him out? In prison, all we have is our respect man. So if somebody says something to you, you’d better heed it and face them like a real man. Look them in the eyes as they got something to say to your sorry ass. Air is sometimes rare, and I mean that. Imagine choking to death in your pod because some guys were being illicit, so you get to go to the Infirmary for nothing.
But when he turned and saw Belzur’eladi no more than five meters in front of his face? Their skin instantly paled and his eyes widened at the sight of the familiar demon. Who saw those eyes like the night they first met in the fires of Hades and he growled. “Atreas… how long I have waited for this moment”
Not wasting another second, the demon reared back as his mouth swelled with flames. Rushing out of his curled lips and jetting between his forked teeth and needle like incisors. Scary demon shit, but the blue hot flames of hate he blew out directly into the Demi-God’s face was far far worse. Screaming in mortal agony, genuine pain while the currents of bright hot heat licked across his upper body. He felt the suit that he was immortalized in forever to serve his sentence in become fused to their flesh. Burning, smoldering he slammed backwards as hard as he could, running the opposite direction so hard he smashes into a metal wall. The creature, whom he had once put here, now cackled and reveled in his arch-nemesis’ torture. Atreas’ melting face clung to his hands and melted the flesh on his fingers, boiled the flesh of his palms. Even as they desperately flung himself over the railing his screams were unending while his burning clothes were finally put out by the rushing currents of hot air. Better than the flames of Hatred he felt burn into his very soul, even now his brain boiled in his skull as he gulped and choked down into the Deep.
But suddenly, a bright purple light took him. A sharp pain that extinguished all others
Which in truth… was far better
All the pain of his searing hands and face was smothered out by two hook like shapes sunk into his actual soul. A bright purple energy leaking out as his essence is ensnared by the claws of these… “Long vile hooks” he called them. Very horrifying, but not to him for the cool sharp sensation of these objects clutching his soul was far better than his flesh-based agony of a burned face. Then, he felt the chains lift him by the grip they held on his Soul’s chest. For as physical as they might have seemed, Atreas knew what ever held him held them by the very spirit and not the skin. No physical form could have possibly represented the being he saw lifting the tiny being high into the air where it stood. But in their burnt eye patches whom Hades willed him to see them through? They saw the God of the Underworld right there in his presence
With great fires burning out of his very skull and a huge helmet that looked like a furnace over top of it? Orange fire came rolling out between the metal struts he probably looked at them through with his massive meaty body. Covered in spikes and long lengths of chains down his mountainous form, two of which now in his left hand where they held the puny demi-god. Atreas was speechless, sort of horrified as the massive horns emanating from the sides of his helmet glowed with an unnatural aura. Nor did the voice from the helmet that drained into his burnt ears help either as his uncle cooed in a taunting manner to them.
“Ohhh Atreas… how nice it is to see you again after alll these years!” Before he jerked them higher into the pitch blackness that surrounded them. His soul and body drifting further apart, but he clung lightly onto life as the dark lord bid
“I see… that you are in a bit of trouble. Tell you this… I will save you. But; it will come at a price…”
Atreas, dazed and weakened in his burnt wounded state, still sizzling from the hellfire melting their skull winced. Shakily raising his right hand, before he cried out the only word that the God of the Underworld had to hear. The only thing that had to be uttered in desperation from a Demi-God whose immortal soul the Lord hungered ravenously for. But? He kept their promise… both the saving
and the Price.
Atreas screamed “HADDES!!!” with all his might. Before death should have claimed him, and technically it sort of did
Hades snapped back violently, tossing the young Demi-God high into the air before they tugged back on the chains in his left hand. Causing the most intense mechanical pain Atreas has ever felt to tear through his being. Soul torn from the fibers in his physical body in a flash of purple lightning; Hades happily devouring it as it flew facefirst into his chest. To which Atreas… was no more
And he took his unholy magic and swelled the empty body of the demigod where it now kneel at his feet. Both hands put out towards the mortal body as his dark magic flooded what once was the place his own essence filled. But giving him only a fraction of his power; Hades reanimated the screaming tortured body to life with his memory. His skull flooded with hot purple energy, like being blasted straight in the face with hot bolts of electricity. But after a few moments he began to levitate and whirl in a cloud of smoke as his demented voice rolled through the Abyss. Hades smiled with glee within the fires of his Hell-mask as he then drew all the magic back out of them with a clap of energy. A huge explosion that flashed with light, but did not affect the mighty god at all before he looked down on the once more crumbled corpse. Collapsed onto his hands and knees in silence, breathless and inaudible emptiness before Hades bid him. “Who you were before… is insignificant. Who you are now… is Nobody. What is it that you do…”
The slumped body stood to his feet in their black uniform, his body now hardened and finely tuned into an inhuman visage of a monster. That which he once was, literally would never be the same again. An empty heart beat slowly, and dry lungs drew in a breath he knew they no longer needed. As the empty face said in a low, horse voice of what it once was.
Ever since then, between his time at Green Rose down in the Underworld? Hades has called upon Convict Seventeen several times to steal a particularly powerful soul for him in a place where he could not spawn. Sometimes though… if you follow a very precise ritual. You may actually summon number seventeen from the depths of his cell down in Hades. I’m not sure how happy he would be with that, but sometimes Hades likes to release the convict when he felt that they’ve deserved it so he can enjoy watching the confused creature stumble confused through the modern world of Persistence.
- My Appearance
ID NUMBER: CONVICT-17
ALIAS’: FOUL HOMIE, NOBODY, NO ONE, ATREAS
WEIGHT: 98 KG. (216 LBS)
Cellmate Description: Convict Seventeen appears to be an extremely burned, violent humanoid with a perpetuation for hostility. c17 is donned in the standard Green Rose black-on-gray uniform with two size fourteen sneakers on his feet. The creature is the son of a War God, which makes it nearly impossible to defeat him in physical combat. All attempts to usually restrain c17 have gone unsuccessful by use of personnel; subject is best dealt with when asleep. Restraints must be added when subject has entered a state of REM sleep, but does no longer have the eye capacity to do this. c17 has time and time again feigned his sleep, only to burst from this fake state to attempt a containment breach. They prefer to be alone, wishing to not be stared at or run away from. Occasionally offering interviews from time to time during its sentencing here for potential critical information of the Gods
Seen sprinting like a madman in this image, the stats and little numbers ought to give a good idea of what we’re going for here
Base Health: 200
Additional Health: 2x (100)*
Base Speed: Maximum 27 mph (Basically the most insane foot pounding sprint a physical body is capable of)
Base Damage: Maximum 135 (This means that anything underneath of that as well, but his punches kicks scratches and vicious bites range from twenties to high thirties by themselves into full combo-extensions)
*This variable is a sort of ‘Second Wind’ c17 has been studied capable of producing. His body flowers out in a sudden regeneration of flesh temporally healing him. But instantaneously upon major damage
Abilities: Convict Seventeen has one of the most athletic physical bodies in mortal existence. Down in the Garage? There is literally nothing else to do sometimes except for exercise. You never know when’s the next time you’re going to eat, you may not have anyone to talk to at the time or you’re in the Pit. So in all those years he did nothing but strain and train; even though he appears to be so skinny and malnourished. That heavy frame is powerful enough to walk among the gods as it did long ago. But since he traded his soul? They have lost all the ability to ever hope returning his face and flesh, now he is doomed to be that horrid beast forever. And the worst part is? He no longer cares, they want to exist
The Essence of Hades: This thing gets a bold caption of its own. The Essence of Hades is one of the most dangerous weapons ever devised by the gods. Imbued from the Soul of a Mortal, Hades took his own dark power. And corrupted mortal-tissue with it to produce this vile black inky stuff. Subject to be ejected from the convict’s throat. c17 must be gagged and bound to stop him from ever using this ability to escape and damage facility property