Name: Yurie Vasuilovf Fenwick
Species: Call him what you will. Yurie is a human, or was. Now... Science really doesn't have a way to describe what it terms 'supernatural' except thatt it isn't normal, which isn't very fulfilling, but nonetheless, No name quite describes what Fenwick has become.
Age: 102, however, the aging process slowed dramatically for him at a point in his life, which shall be here noted, and left him suspended at about the age of 65.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Approximately 2.31 meters (or about 7 and a half feet) tall, Yurie Fenwick stands a good bit over the rest of the crowd. However, even without the height, his near skeletal physique and white, parchment-like skin would definately aid in picking him out of any crowd. As it is, the effect of his height is strengthened by abnormally long limbs which give him the appearance, one might think, of a spider. Large hands and feet serve to aid this perspective. Atop a thin neck is a rather long sort of head, being of great proportions and looking as though it should quite bend the neck until it broke off. He has a high brow, and sort of almost wrinkled features that take more of a creased appearance than anything else. Two huge, luminous green eyes sit just a bit too close together upon his face just above a nose that reminds a body of a hawk's beak. Tight, almost papery lips seem placed slightly askew above a distinguished chin. The effect is that he looks as though he has a sort of permanently lopsided smile on his face. Jet-black hair hangs about his face, reaching, in a scraggly manner, all about his head to a length that is short of reaching his shoulder by about a finger's length. he really does look stuck between being terribly young and terribly old. There is also a strangeness about his posture, as he seems to prefer positions that curl him up so that he doesn't look nearly so tall as he actually is. His teeth are somewhat yellowed and are anything but straight, but his fingernails are trimmed neatly, though they do sometimes appear to have been gnawed off. On top of that, he does appear to have a blight upon his skin at times, disfiguring the color and texture thereof. To add to this strangely disheveled sort of look, Fenwick has an attire that is quite off-putting. HE wears a pair of scrub pants, as most doctors do when they go into surgery, and a long white lab coat, though he prefers to leave that off. Underneath this he dons a straight-jacket, with the arms drooping down. Often times, he goes barefooted, showing off his feet, the toe nails of which definitely look to be chewed upon. Alternately, he sometimes wears a nice, navy-blue suit with all the formal attire and acoutrements, but the previously mentioned garb is far more natural to him.
History: What can I really say? Fenwick was born, in the normal way. He grew up, in the normal way. His life was not especially good, nor was it all that bad. Then again, something must have been wrong, mustn't it? People don't just start killing their fellow man for no reason. Only one real piece of evidence came from one of teh early interviews with the man once he was arrested for the murder of sixteen people, the final murder being of his own wife, was that he was just honestly and innocently curious. He wanted to know what would happen if you killed somone. He wanted to know what that felt like to them, what it was to witness it, what that pain made people do... He was a psycho. He had no inhibitions, anything that he could do to cause pain, he would, but not out of some malicious inntent. He just wanted to know how you would take it, why you would take it, if you would take it... He was placed on death row, but some inconsistency in the case, which was obviously closed, ended in the sentence being over-ruled. He was put in a prison for rehabilitation. The subject made incredible progress and even went on to gain a degree in psychology, several in fact. And so it came to pass that when he was released for good behavior and finally taken off of parol, even because of his outstanding progress, he applied for and received a job at the Happy Dale Sanitarium, treating the criminally insane. His record rose immediately when he joined the small Sanitarium and his prowess as a doctor of the mental health became renound in that small communitee that he serviced. But all this has been farely natural. There was a man who lead a good life, went insane, was given a second chance after commiting horrible atrocities, and then he took it and gained by it. Yet, something strange began to happen when he arrived at Happy Dale. You may ask, "why would he even know about this backwater nuthouse, and why would he go there?" The questions have plenty of simple and rational answers that could be, but only one that is. He was told to go there, by an inmate, or rather, the inamte's diary... The inmate had died... Choked on his food, they said... It had been lodged deep down inside his throat. In any case, Fenwick ended up with the journal, and he ended up at Happy Dale. He was in his early forties at the time. Twenty years later, working at teh same facility, he had grown older, but not so much older as he should have. Twenty years more, and he should have been in an old-folks home as a patient, not in the insanity ward as a doctor, but he was still active and lively, more lively than a man of his age rightly should be. Yurie started to vanish every now and again, taking trips, far more than he ever had in the past... He would be gone regularly, but he would always come back. Sometimes, when he would arrive, he would look hagard and tired and almost as though he were falling apart, but the next day he would be more alive and full of vitality than ever. Twenty more years later, and his condition officially became unnatural. But, the people who noticed... The people who mattered... They all seemed to go away, either by moving away or retiring or just vanishing. Some of them even wound up in the Happy Dale Sanitarium themselves. And Fenwick just went on living with that crooked smile slapped on his face...
Powers: (No living being but Fenwick himself is aware of his abilities, less they be mad.) Fenwick cannot die... Now, this is not completely true, but as a beginning assumption, it will serve the necessary purpose. Fenwick's body is capable of being broken, dislocated, disfigured, smashed, pierced, slashed, and in fact injured in almost any way and he will survive it. His mental faculties are vast and though this is not an abnormal power of any kind, it serves him in ways both amazing and frightening. Seemingly, Fenwick is also able to scale or climb over any surface, much like a spider, as the analogy was made before. Allow me to now come back around after this brief interruption to the case of Fenwick's 'invincibility' which you may have noticed. You will already have guessed, by this time, that it is directly linked with the location of the Happy Dale Sanitarium. This is because the facility rests upon an old house. In the basement of the old house is an old well, and in the old well is old water, ancient water, unnatural water. This water, if ingested regularly, will cause the drinker to remain alive indefinitely. SImply drinking it causes longevity, however, and not immortality. To attain the further benefits of the liquid, a person must thoroughly immerse themselves in the substance, soaking for long periods of time until they become saturated by it. Through a period of testing and trial, Fenwick has discovered that when seperated from the water for the length of several days, his body begins to quickly deteriorate, old wounds reopen, decay rapidly spreads, and excruciating pain spreads over every inch of his tall, thin form. Very simply, without the water in that dark and dank well, Fenwick isn't alive at all. So then, what do you call such a creature? Is he a spirit trapped in its own body? Perhaps a revenant, some creature come back from the grave? Is he just the water now? Or is he some corporeal phantasm with the ability to tear away that commodity which he holds so close to himself.
Personality: Fenwick is the extremity of a curiosity unrestrained. His whole life has been about questions and answers, and he has never once hesitated to find out the answer to even one of his darkest questions. Murder is no object to him, and does anything but stand in the way of his relentless search for realization of the truth. Never once has he shown remorse for a single one of his actions, believing each and every thing that he has ever done has had behind it a significant purpose. Also, to think that Fenwick was ever rehabilitated would be futile and foolish. His mindset never once changed. Instead, it perhaps became less solid, and more... fluid. Now, he wavers over a perspective that is not just without restraint or morality, he also stands on a path of egotistical insanity, and perhaps even malice. His life has been honed down to a singlular and disturbing directive, to cause the greatest pain possible to a living creature, any living creature before his own time runs short, for, though he is connected to a literal well of unending life, he senses the clock's every beat ticking away at what time he may yet have left, knowing that fate will take some hard toll for his audacity in taking far more than his fare share of time upon this earth.
Sample RP post: "Now, now, Fine Fellow, be not so vexed with me. I did mean no harm by what I said," his voice was silky and smooth, but Yurie's mind was working at incredible speeds. If it had been a cogs-work, they would have been producing smoke, so fast was he thinking, so many possibilites was he attempting to overcome. The predominant thougths were of teh various and unsundry ways that this man's life could end, but Fenwick fought against his inner demons as it were. "No," said the voice of reason that governed his mind, "For if he is dead, then he can feel no pain, and where would the fun in that be? An unreactive corpse?! No, let us bide our time and think up ways rather NOT to kill him."
