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Character creation: Killer, The Silenced
I'm new to this whole community in general, and had an idea for a killer. Feel free to give your pure thoughts on it!
The Silenced
Summons white birch trees around the trial area, the Killer able to cut down said trees to their stumps with their power, making them execution points.
Difficulty: Intermediate
Weapon: All-metal axe
Power: Wild Swing
A huge swing with their axe able to split trees. Learned from a particularly fun encounter with intruders.
While running, the swing turns into a charge, which does much the same, but increases the recovery speed upon impact, missed or not.
- Sends any Survivors within range into dying state if hit.
- Breaks any pallet or door in range of the swing.
- Able to split certain trees, making them good execution spots.
Teachable Perks:
One of you
“You don’t need to doubt yourself. I’m sure you’ll blend in perfectly.”
Drastically decreases the base terror radius when not directly looked at, yet when looked at is much easier to see, alerting the Survivor from much farther away.
Only Friends
“You have such a way with words. Look, even the birds trust you.”
Makes all crow disturbances visible for 3 seconds, including whoever disturbed them. No one will disturb your only friends ever again.
Initiative
“You’re so focused and keen upon what to do. You’re the greatest of us all.”
Makes your max base speed higher while chasing a Survivor and carrying one upon your shoulder.
Max Base Speed: 4.6 m/s
Base Terror Radius: 24m
Height: Average
Design: Very thin, light build, almost like that of an anorexic. Pale-ish skin, left hand stitched on with long, faded red fingernails, left shoulder stitched on. Wiry fluffy black hair. Wide eyes.
Mask made of skin over his face with a zipper over their mouth. White dirtied cotton shirt with a rolled up right sleeve. Faded blue jeans. Beaten old shoes.
Backstory:
Put on a doorstep of an orphanage right after birth, a child was taken in quickly and given the all too plain name John West. John was a curious child, but the question he asked most often was why his parents left him behind, to which there was no reliable answer his caretaker, Ms. Sheamus could give him, but she gave all conjectures she could. From poor living conditions, to even perhaps they did not want him, the latter momentarily scaring John. Was he not good enough for his parents? And if not them, then who? Though Ms. Sheamus tried to cheer him up, the idea stuck with him, and progressed as time went on.
John was granted a rather fruitful education, even if he didn’t have anything to his name as of yet, thanks mainly to Ms. Sheamus, who tried to give every orphan she looked over as good conditions as she could muster. John was fairly antisocial and isolated from others, being a silent voice in his own head, yet by how much he used his mind, he developed a very active imagination and uniquely tuned intellect for a child his age. He even grew quite a friendship with birds and other animals. However, this did not help his social skills, in fact he took more to himself the longer he was left to his thoughts, he barely spoke to another soul other than Ms. Sheamus. He seemed to develop a bit of an interest in Ms. Sheamus as time went on, to the point of going a bit unhealthy. It was a borderline obsession, as he watched her do everything, followed her everywhere. He just didn’t know any better. One day, John saw Ms. Sheamus putting on eyeliner, to which John asked Ms. Sheamus what she was doing. Thinking it completely innocent, Ms. Sheamus simply said that it was for her beauty, to look presentable. The idea intrigued John. What was beauty? Ms. Sheamus answered all his questions as best she could, and John accepted them all. He now had a new obsession: Beauty.
It started oh so innocent, with John using Ms. Sheamus’ makeup, Ms. Sheamus catching him every so often, only to laugh it off. She had no idea what machinations were transpiring through his mind. To John, Ms. Sheamus was the most beautiful thing, and he wanted to look just as beautiful as her. And in his mid teens, he even had fantasies of Ms. Sheamus in his sleep. He would do anything to have her in his arms, in a sweet embrace. His thoughts weren’t nearly as innocent as they used to be, continuing to grow more and more drastic and demented as the years went on. However, he could never be as beautiful as other people around him, something that itched the sides of John’s mind. He would never be worthy of her love, if there were people like them walking around. His mind rotted for longer and longer, before he suddenly acted in evil intent. Quietly, as one handsome young man made his way back home, John brought with him a small hatchet, sneaking up behind the boy, before quickly jamming the head of the hatchet into his back, then to the back of their neck, then to the back of their head. The feeling was vile for John, ending another life, but suddenly there was a voice in the back of his head. One that spoke of how they would stop his union with Ms. Sheamus, which grew envy and rage in John’s mind. John continued to slash at the young man’s corpse, cutting him apart piece by piece. After the young man was hacked into pieces, the voice commented on how his left shoulder was so immaculate, far more beautiful than the shoulder of John. This thought twitched within his mind, driving him to a panic, and after it, he saw that his left shoulder was gone, and in place of it was the young man’s shoulder, stitched in place where his own shoulder once was. Though initially panicked, the voice in his head soothed him, told him that everything was okay. It was the only thing that could deescalate him so quickly, aside from imagining Ms. Sheamus. And so, because of that time, John let the silent voice in his head lead him towards countless murders of all races, genders, ages, and so on, cutting pieces from their bodies to make them part of his own, each murder getting sloppier and sloppier. This was his method of becoming as beautiful as the one he loved.
For a little while, Ms. Sheamus didn’t even know what was going on, until she noticed that others at the orphanage were disappearing. Growing worried, she searched for them, only to find two dead girls under John’s bed, their faces cut off. Horrified, Ms. Sheamus screamed and ran out of John’s room, only to come face to face with the one who was causing these disappearances, or more face to mask. It was John, holding a bloodied metal axe, wearing a mask made out of the faces of those girls, a zipper over his mouth to silence himself, letting the voice in his head speak freely. Ms. Sheamus’ mind could not take this, it was all too horrific to be real, and with her fear running high, she ran away from the orphanage as quickly as she could, through a clearing in the woods. John chased after her, worried for her safety, and eventually he lost track of her, never finding her again. Along the way, he got completely lost, didn’t even know where to go from there. However, the birds around the forest gave him direction, gave him purpose: To keep them company, and protect them all. He’s been doing that for so long now, the voices of the bird keeping him alive and the voice in his head translating all they say. He often even continues to kill those who enter his woods, for a simple camping trip or a single dare, only two have made it back, to write their horrible escape from such an evil thing. John knows not even his name anymore, but was granted a new name by the voices of the birds: Zippermouth.