CLYDE

RANCH / EST
[break]ENSEMBLE STARS!, sakuma rei

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Qenodenuhn sle Fharxiuxohr


Clyde, Edgelord, Soul Keeper, Lucifer, 'that fucking dick who won't let me talk to grandma'


Demon


? ? ? // Vessel: 24


? ? ? // Vessel: 02/17/--


? ? ? // Vessel: Minnesota


nah // Vessel: Male


whatever // Vessel: Male

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Clyde's main trait would be his powerful apathy. He doesn't care for most things, and most goings on around him don't concern him. For someone like him, there is no real concept of good and evil. He just does what he likes, and if you don't like it then that is your business and not his. He won't care one way or the other. One would expect a Demon such as himself, a king of hell, would be a power hungry thing who craves destruction and power. Clyde wants neither. He knows he is all powerful in his realm, and that is enough for him. He just wants to be left alone and allowed to do his job to the best of his ability. Being summoned to earth so often is more of a chore to him than some bid for ultimate power.

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He will service whoever desires it of him, if they are willing to pay the price. As expected, his prices are steep. He does not care for who he does these services for most of the time. However, that doesn't mean he is above being a petty little bitch. If he doesn't like someone he will refuse them service. Grave offenders might even find themselves tricked out of their soul without anything in return. Many confuse his quiet and even polite nature for stupidity, which is a real mistake since he is a being as old as time itself.

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He has no desire to conquer Earth or any other place, but that doesn't mean he likes humans or those that live there. He blames humans and other sentient beings on his always being trapped in this realm but he has moved past trying to claim some unholy vengeance. He knows there is no point and it wouldn't make him happy or end the cycle, so its better for this fad to just run its course. Time means nothing when you cannot achieve true death.

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Being a devil also doesn't mean he can't enjoy himself, or be playful. When in the right mood, Clyde loves a good argument. He calls people he likes 'sugar pop' and has a fondness for eating sunflower seeds. He also dabbles in bad soap operas and loves taking long baths with lots of exotic scents. He generally doesn't like people who insult his vessel, since its not like its his fault he's even inside of it and can help what it looks like.

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It is also a misunderstanding by many that he is an all powerful god who knows all. He is none of those things. In this realm, he is actually very weak since he is trapped in a mortal body. While he is wise, he does not know all and cannot predict what will happen in the future. He also is not a being who created anything or has the power to create. He, himself, was created and given great power to rule a space he holds dominion over, not the other way around. The affairs of true gods and goddesses are not his concern. He is simply a leader waiting to sit back in his throne.



And so there was light, and that light cast a shadow, and there was Qenodenuhn sle Fharxiuxohr ready to roll. Or maybe that's not how it happened, because he doesn't really remember. His birth was that moment when you first wake up, but you're not really aware of the world yet. Primal in ways that your own body can't understand. One moment he was nothing, then the next he was him and that's all there is too it. He can't offer anymore explanation than that.

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He was himself, and he had a job, and he was powerful. That was all that mattered. Day in, day out (though really, did his realm have days? Did time really pass?) he would work his minions to the literal bone. Collecting souls of the departed, from whatever galaxy or universe or dimension they lived, his Reapers were there, and they took, and they brought back to him. He would weigh the souls, coax from them their very essence, then move them along to whatever afterlife they needed to go into. He was not the one who judged if a soul was good or bad, because he had no way to judge since he did not know himself. He merely collected and passed them along to those who did.

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And then he felt a tug, and he was no longer Qenodenuhn sle Fharxiuxohr, but instead a tiny human child who wasn't even aware of it's name. He cried, except this time he was not a He but a She, and she was being held by robed men who shouted things in a language she didn't understand. Things formed, they made sense for this dimension, she knew what Language and Space and Time were now because she could feel them pressing in on her. And she could do nothing but cry and wish it were over.

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She grew, and as she grew she learned. She was a 'Demon Lord', someone of great power and renown. At least to the people who circled her small body like sharks and begged for blessings. They wanted her power all to themselves, they wanted to speak to the dead or revive them for their own pleasures and pains. She gave them what they wanted, but for a price: she was new to understanding but she was not stupid. She had been living for longer than this planet and would live long still when it's sun collapsed into nothing. Still, she would not be played like a piper by those who dared summon her from her realm. She would get her revenge in the end.

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She grew, and then died. Her body met an when a dull knife pierced her, and she bled out on the dirty floor of the cell she had been kept in for all those years. She was never happier in that moment as to when her being was released and she was herself again, when she was Qenodenuhn sle Fharxiuxohr who ruled over her Hell and everything in it. Because, as you might expect, there are many realms that could be called Hell just as there are many worlds that could be called Earth. It is all a matter of perspective, really.

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Her peace didn't last as not even a century later she was summoned again, this time as male. He was screaming, again, a baby in another time but of the same species of before. Much as before, they demanded favors. Much as before, he granted them for a price. This happened, again and again, hundreds of times in hundreds of vessels. The story was the same. He would live, he would grow, he would die, then he would go back to his Hell only to be summoned back some time later. An endless cycle.

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War would be the easy choice, or maybe the hard. To go ahead and wipe out the pathetic creatures by opening unholy rifts and letting his servants climb through. It's not the choice he likes, since this choice makes his business stop. His business of harvesting souls and what they are before passing them on. So instead he waits patiently for the time to run out, for all of the pathetic creatures here to die so he can finally end this little game.

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His current body is that of a 24 year old whose name had been Clyde before he was chosen to be a vessel. He lives quietly in Kingsport, where he caters to those who desire his services. He is just waiting for this body to die so he will be forced into the next one, and so on and so forth. But just because he is waiting doesn't mean he can't drum up a little business for himself, right?

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Clyde has sway and control over the demons of his realm and have them do his bidding as he desires. He is the 'devil' or 'lucifer' of his hell, after all, so it would make sense that a 'demon king' would rule and guide his subjects. However, this is a power he rarely puts to use as he sees no point to it. He just likes to keep minor imps around his house to keep the place clean and picked up. Clyde also has no control over demons from other hells, other realms he does not lord over.



If you need to talk to your dead ancestor to find out where they hid the family fortune, you've come to the right place. Clyde is a demon, yes, but even demon's have things they are better at than others. Clyde is the lord of souls, the middle man between death and the afterlife. He can pick and choose and contact any soul as he pleases if you are willing to pay his price. Of course, Clyde can not contact creatures or things that had no soul. He also cannot contact someone who is still alive, as they are still in use of the soul in question.



A tricky power, with a harsh and high price. Clyde can grant life back to those who have departed in the right set of circumstances. On paper it sounds great, but it is often more trouble than it is worth. The soul in question must be a free soul, not in the possession of any other devil or deity. There must also be a vessel present for the soul to inhabit. This can take many shapes and forms, from the original body if its not too damaged, robots, or clay figures. As long as the soul can bind and live in it, it is fine. Clyde will always demand two things from those who make this contract: their own soul to be given to him upon their death, but also a precious memory of his own choosing, which will be lost forever to the contact maker....



Clyde is a creature who can never die, not truly. His being will continue to live on until nothing is left, and then his time will end. However, when he is summoned to earth he is put into mortal flesh for a time. The body ages and decays just as any other, and eventually will die. The only difference is that Clyde can, and will, repeat this process until it can't be anymore. He will always retain his memories, who he is and what he can do. He is just stuck in a very vulnerable and squishy form for a century or so. If his body is killed, it dies, and he will just move on to the next when some human gets the idea to put him in another. Its not a big deal to him anymore.



While he may not be as 'fire and brimstone' as other demons, Clyde is still a demon. In exchange for whatever he asks for (usually your soul) he will use his abilities to grant you whatever desire your heart pleased. Of course, he can pick and choose what he grants and won't allow things that would hurt him or his cause. He will also usually twist what you want in some way to corrupt it. He is also not a genie, so he can't grant physical things. So, asking him to be more powerful is okay, but for something simple like a slice of cake he cannot; he can grant abilities or luck, but cannot manipulate matter to create something new.