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Submitted on
November 3, 2012
Image Size
1.3 MB
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23 (who?)
[#BPC7056] Alfreyr by Superlote [#BPC7056] Alfreyr by Superlote
[EDIT(3/26)] NOTE: Alfreyr's been fixed up! Level and stats adjusted in profile only. Personality and Quote(s) text have been adjusted to his actual personality. Likes, dislikes, trivia, and talents have been adjusted along with an informal fix to his weapon becauseitmaybesubjecttochange. Changes to the actual image will be fixed . . . eventually.

[EDIT(2/4)] NOTE: Finished it, finally. EDIT: YES, you're wondering what's happening to his leg? It's also at the tip of his right hand's fingertips. Please read the whole profile, kkkkkk!!! :D

[Data Update] Character Info//

Name: Alfreyr ( ôl-frā-ər or Ahl-FRAY-err )

Nickname: Frey

Level: 2

Age: 953 human years (19 in Pandemonian cycles)

DOB: May 29

Gender: Male

Race: Pandemonian

Division: Fraud


"Don't talk to me." "What do you want, asshole?"


Usually quite kept to himself, Alfreyr is a bit of a snob who silently judges people from afar while making faces at them. This young man is known for being a snide, sarcastic asshole/jerk, uncaring for most others' ethics or values. On top of that, Alfreyr is known for being quite grumpy. He has a short fuse when it comes to stupidity; when it's lit, he tends to go haywire, or "super hostile" every once in a while. The Pandemonian will then commence to trying to eat you, as almost anyone could be his next meal. While he can be pretty sour and a little touchy, once in a while he turns out to be a nice guy. That is after you get over his anger issues and get around his urge to devour your flesh. A bit prideful, Alfreyr has inbred prejudices against Khadromans-- while he doesn't have any opinions about them himself, he just has a powerful urge to dislike them for some reason. Meanwhile, other races just get his normal grumpy treatment.


:bulletpurple:Sultry Weather (HE JUST LIKES HEAT)
:bulletpurple:Words that start with the "s" sound (e.g. Citation, sister)
:bulletpurple:THE COLOR PURPLE
:bulletpurple:Good people
:bulletpurple:People giving him food
:bulletpurple:Tasty people
:bulletpurple:Hunting (and everything related, like the chase, or the victim screaming/flailing while he hunts/kills/eats them)


:bulletpurple:Unnecessary noisiness
:bulletpurple:You as a Fishperson
:bulletpurple:Wasting food
:bulletpurple:Bad fashion sense


:bulletpurple:Can move around silently. Like a ninja.
:bulletpurple:Is able to shun anyone and anything . . . for an indefinite amount of time.
:bulletpurple:Is able to fail at catching fish like there's nothing to it but to do it.
:bulletpurple:Can also eat raw meat.
:bulletpurple:Can turn people into pans.


The tribe known as Praeteritus peregrinated frequently, hardly camping anywhere for more than a few days. They searched for oasis after oasis throughout the Fraud circle, usually staying at their destinations longer than other stays. They simply mapped the locations of these oases and kept going. Unfortunately, their progress always goes sluggishly as at least half of these nomadic people break away from the group to set out on their own. Nevertheless, they make sure they never stay in one place for too long as if they were just spirits to be forgotten, wandering the deserts. This said, they never have time to mingle with other species. They actually look down in interbreeding with other species . . .

Hailing from these nomads, Alfreyr was the 50% that stayed with the Praeteritus. He had nowhere else to go, and even if he did, it was doubtful he'd make it out alive. You see, Alfreyr was different. Around him, everyone else shared his bronze complexion and long ears, although theirs were pointed up rather than drooping down like his own. Their hair was bleached blonde, unlike his white-silver color, and they also had horns that he lacked. He didn't realize for a while, but the whites of his eyes were actually black . . . and some of their teeth weren't pointed as his were. They tried to treat him equally, but the others around him seemed to shun him, and even if they tried to be benign, they would often seem slightly disgusted by him. He couldn't figure out why. Alfreyr was told that his mother had left him in the care of the tribe because she couldn't take care of him, and he was at peace with that. It was only when he became an adolescent did he realize why his own people hated him so much . . .

As stated earlier, only 50% of the Praeteritus actually stay with the group, and they also look down in interbreeding. Alfreyr found that his mother had departed from the tribe and had come back with him in tow, a hybrid between Praeteritus and . . . something else that he couldn't identify. The discovery wasn't a gentle one, as an elder spat his history in his face after a brief skirmish. Heartbroken, Alfreyr seemed like was the epitome of what his own people hated. As he grew into a teenager, the young Alfreyr found that he was diseased with some incurable sickness that caused the pigments in his skin to change colors. At the time, Alfreyr could not control it, and this only helped in his own shunning. Although he did try to keep it under control, he found that their shunning would stretch to new extremes.

After reaching his 800-year landmark (16 human years), Alfreyr realized that his own people had been trying to rather . . . ditch him. One night, he slept alone as he usually did, and no one bothered to wake him as they prepared to move. It was only until they'd gone at least two miles from his location that he woke up and had to chase after them. Alfreyr ignored the looks on their faces when he caught up to them. And as nomads, they traveled and hunted during the night. After a while, they would stop sharing food with him, causing him to have to hunt for himself. Often, they tried to leave out while he went out to hunt. He struggled to stay with the Praeteritus for another year or so but they were just coming up with more things to do to ditch him.

In the midst of his loneliness one day as his people slept in a cavern, Alfreyr had found another hollow not too far away that he could sleep in. (They wouldn't allow him in, anyways . . .) He'd become a light sleeper, and he'd learned to keep his disease under control so they'd tolerate him a little more-- but that hardly worked-- and something suddenly disturbed him. The sound of feet sifting through sand? Waking up, he hid in the shadows until he realized who his visitor was . . . was it an animal? Some sort of monster? The young man hadn't eaten in a couple of days, so that would have been convenient if he weren't cornered. No . . . instead, Alfreyr was greeted by a small, innocent young Praeter girl. Her horns protruded from the top of her head like a little devil, and her ears perked up as did all the others'. However, unlike the others, hate was not filled her eyes. Rather, they were filled with innocence. Creeping out from his hiding, he'd learned to be abrasive towards others as they often tried to start fights with him to get him exiled from the group. However, this only frightened the girl, causing her to cry. Not knowing what to do, Alfreyr put aside his usual attitude and tried to comfort her the best he could so she wouldn't alarm the other Praeteri. Soon, she revealed that she had sneaked some food from their usual reserves for him. (She'd heard how they'd been stealing all the game in the area so that Alfreyr wouldn't have anything to eat.)

Touched, the man accepted the gift, and he and the small girl became close friends. She'd visit him often to cheer him up, and although it was rare for Alfreyr to smile anymore these days, she did her best to turn his frown upside-down. Also, she continued to sneak food out to him, and this relationship lasted for the last half of his time trying to stay with "his people". Were they really his people anymore? No. He was an outcast. But he had to stay with them-- how else would he survive?! Maybe if he waited another year . . .

But no. He wouldn't be given another year, let alone a season. As a "dry" season struck for the tribe, they hoarded all the food they could, and Alfreyr was becoming thinner and thinner. They saw this as a wonderful opportunity, because now, it wasn't about ditching him, it was about offing him and his impurity without getting their hands dirty.

His only hope was his only friend, and as she arrived, she had nothing to give him. Alfreyr was on death's doorstep. With downcast eyes, he accepted it. The Praeteritus had won, and soon, he would be simply forgotten. But even though his friend, this innocent little girl, was empty handed, she still had something to offer. And as he would accept, it would be an unforgivable sin that would be the key to his exile from their people.

What a burden he was! That Alfreyr, what a wretched leech! His face sickens me. How could his mother possibly think we'd take care of that abomination!? We'll take care of him this time. How did he even survive this long?

Even though Alfreyr refused, the girl badgered and badgered . . .

When she returned to the camp, she was missing an arm. It didn't take too long for him to realize what Alfreyr had done. He'd crossed the line. They didn't believe the girl when she told them that she'd willingly given up her arm, or rather, they thought this was the perfect opportunity to rally everyone to just get rid of him for good.

The girl, in the end, was punished for assisting him, although she was allowed to stay with the group. They didn't tolerate her talk of showing benevolence to Alfreyr, who was like an older brother to her now, and after a while, the mention of him was simply taboo.

What happened to Alfreyr? Well, they'd tied him to a stone one night . . . he was still hungry, but he wouldn't have made it without his little companion's offering. His mind buzzed about what he did and why he did. An older man stood guard beside him, in case Alfreyr did something funny, and also to chronicle this bastard's death. Ah, that would bring happiness for generations. However, Alfreyr was smart . . .

As the man turned around and then back to Alfreyr, the prisoner wasn't "there" anymore. He had simply vanished. Pulling the chains loose, the man observed the situation, only to find his own weapon in his back. Falling into the sand, Alfreyr thought long and hard before making another decision. He'd done it once. Why not do it again? And so he did-- he deigned himself to kill the man and then ate him raw, which didn't seem to bother him too much(Alfreyr supposed it was because of his father's genes)-- and he returned to "his people", covered in blood.

He knew his people weren't ones to get their hands dirty, and that the despised him. Throwing the man's weapon the ground, he revealed himself as a whole other person. At this moment, they didn't simply hate him. They drew back, huddling close to each other. Alfreyr was truly a monster, and horror overcame them.

"You sow what you reap" was the first thing that they'd ever actually listened to him say. And that was the last. Alfreyr realized he didn't need them. He could go on his own without them with his own strength, and his own "power" that he found in his "sickness".

Before he left, the girl approached him once more. Fear was even in her eyes as she tugged his arm as if begging for him not to leave. He explained that he couldn't stay and that he wasn't welcome here anymore. Woefully, she let him be, giving him a small charm in remembrance of her, and saw him off.

Now, Alfreyr lives on his own. He stays away from people the best he can, knowing acceptance would be hard to come by from both others and himself as well. He trusts no one and simply exists, exploring his freedom and his newfound power within himself.


:bulletpurple:Dislikes fish because they're slippery and hard to catch-- fishing, what's that???
:bulletpurple:Loves to eat fish live as "revenge." He tries to make them suffer as much as possible while being eaten.
:bulletpurple:He will like you more if you feed him good stuff . . .
:bulletpurple:Is pretty cannibalistic-- he is carnivorous and doesn't mind eating a human or Khadroman.
:bulletpurple:Believes that there is no true "good" inside of most people and he will treat you accordingly.

[Update] Inventory//

Prior Ownership: Small Charm (Holds personal value.)

Store Bought:


[Log Sequence] Battling//

Contract Availability: Yes (and good luck with that)




chamaeleontis pigmento

a highly contagious, nonlethal virus that grants the carrier the ability to change the pigmentation of all that is infected with said virus. The virus itself spreads via touch, and can only be truly activated by the carrier. As stated earlier, the virus is nonlethal, and after a period of time, the virus will die if it has not come in contact with the carrier. Almost everything is susceptible to the Chameleon Virus; inorganic and organic matter alike are able to be infected. However, there are limitations to the virus . . . The potency of the virus depends on a few components: the strength of the virus itself, the strength and dexterity of the carrier, the mass of the infected object itself, and how long the carrier has been in contact with the infected object. The strength of the virus is half predetermined (e.g. a carrier with a weak case of the virus). This said, the virus can be strengthened by training, but only to a point. On the other hand, the mass of the object that's being infected also affects the potency of the virus. The larger the object is, the harder it is to spread the virus throughout it. In addition, if the carrier has been in contact with the object longer, the virus has more time to infect and can also overcome larger objects for a shorter amount of time, or smaller objects for a longer amount of time. On a side note, the carrier of the virus is unable to be cured of it.

LV2.This carrier is somewhat adept at wielding this power-like disease. They can alter the pigmentation of the average object at will. Larger objects are more of a challenge to them, but with time, those too can be overcome.

Weapon: Coughcough his fingertips turn into claws and stuff OK bai


Health: 149
Magic: 7
Attack: 194
Defense: 104
Speed: 236

Battling Style:

Alfreyr relies on a speed and stealth to fight. Using his Chameleon Virus, he stays out of sight and stays silent until he swoops in for a few quick blows and runs off again to repeat this cycle. He trains in speed mostly, but also in attack so that he can deal blows, and health (and a bit of defense) so he can take one. If he needs to stay in a fight without disappearing frequently, he uses his agility to dodge attacks and to attack when he sees an opening.


[Main Theme]

[Battle Theme]

[Sad Theme]


Alfreyr (c) me
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Superlote Mar 26, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Health: 114 +35 = 149
Magic: 7
Attack: 154 +40 = 194
Defense: 74 +30 = 104
Speed: 181 +55 = 236


VenomX3000 Nov 29, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Question, how tall is Alfreyr?
Superlote Nov 30, 2012  Student Digital Artist
He's . . . probably around 5'11" or so . . . I almost feel like I should redraw this for some reason . . . 8I;
VenomX3000 Nov 30, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Thank ya hun. Why would ya need to redraw it?
Superlote Nov 30, 2012  Student Digital Artist
-Backflips.- Because I need to better myself! 8I

And some parts of it look bad to me now. xD -Scratches head.- :D;;
VenomX3000 Nov 30, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
*Shrugs* If you say so. I'm at least giving it a couple months before I redesign my boy again.
Superlote Dec 1, 2012  Student Digital Artist
I feels ya. :iconfreywellplz: You're probably right. No sense in redesigning every month. :D
VenomX3000 Dec 1, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Exactly. At least have to have some impacting stuff happen in a RP first haha
AliaaVampyre Nov 3, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Wow, he sounds cool!
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