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1Name: Marcooooo!
2Aliases: Poloooooo! Darky, Nigger Lover, and various others
3Race: Hollow
4Height: 6'7"
5Weight: 220lbs
6Age: Unknown, but he appears to be a young adult in his mid-to-late twenties.
7Sign: Leo
8
9Description: He's tall, he's lean, almost completely devoid of fat, unless you count his cheeks, which are about as soft as a newborn's. His hair is an inky black, dangling just over his forehead in small bangs, leaving half of his forehead visible. Marco's facial features appear small and cat-like at first, possibly because he's always grinning, quietly sizing up the person he's looking at, albeit in a manner that is quietly arrogant and full of demeaning thoughts.
10
11His attire is rather plain, but despite that, it still boasts of the detached drifter he used to be during his old life. An enormous black trench coat drapes all the way passed his shins, stopping just shy of his Achilles heel, cuffed at the wrists, the large buttons retaining their freshly made sheen, in-part due to a severe lack of use. To top it off, Marco wears a long, a white dress-shirt that has been poorly tucked into a pair of dark-gray dance pants. His strange penchant for "old man" shoes only helps to accentuate the obscurity behind his true personality.
12
13Personality: Warning: Marco Polo will piss you off. He will look down on you as someone who is totally inferior, a complete lesser being than he is, and even so much as an attempt at raising your own dignity will entice him into degrading you further. While it is possible to have a conversation with him, it is more than likely that it will gradually evolve into a serious discussion, mutate into a heated debate, transform into a heated argument, and any trace of a civilized interaction will inevitably go extinct, just like the poor sap who had the gall to question Marco's superior intellect. The Nigger Lover doesn't take pride in putting others down, so much as he enjoys the simple act of doing so, proving himself to little more than a bully in almost every sense in the word.
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15Not one for clever tricks, though still more than capable of executing them with the swiftness of a magician, Marco prefers to cast powers aside, and show just exactly what he's capable of with his own body instead. He takes explicit pride in proving this fact on a regular basis, and so far the only people who have been capable of taking him on without serious injury have been Jack Black, Pawn, and Ron Jackson, all of whom he begrudgingly respects, despite his over-sized ego. However, like all men with tyrannical personalities, Marco is not above taking cheap shots, low blows, or resorting to unfair tactics if it means he gets to win.
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17Stuff
18
19Pocket Full of Knives: Marco loves sharp objects, or anything he can use to inflict pain upon an adversary, but knives for the aforementioned reason, always seem to tickle his fancy in just the right way. Getting up, close, and personal with his opponents is not only his strong suit, but his favored position in almost any type engagement. He's got darts, daggers, throwing knives, hunting knives, bowie knives, needles, pins, tacks, and a whole lot of other things he can use to slit your throat, cram up your nose, ass, dick, or one-shot you in the eye with.
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21His favorite blade is a Royal Spanish Dagger: 12 inches of stainless steel encased in a solid black sheathe which bares the symbol of the Spanish Armada.
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23Deck of Cards: An avid lover of various card games, Marco wouldn't get caught dead without his two favorite decks, he carries around in his pants pockets. One deck is holds the standard set of 52 cards with four pairs, 13 per pair, and two jokers, all of which he uses to achieve varying ends by manifesting the actual image into reality. A rain of of spades for his enemy, a shower of diamonds for a lover, a storm of hearts for when he feels like sharing, or a field of clubs for him to pick up and bludgeon the bitch with, should she decide to get mouthy with him.
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25The Darkness
26
27It is a place seemingly devoid of light, where all that can be seen is cast in a perpetual negative, like that of a D-grade photograph. There is a partial lack of application of physical laws here--such as an echo existing in a vast open field where there are no walls to deflect sound, frozen lakes that appear to burn the skin when walking barefooted on them, clouds that do not react to powerful winds racing across the sky, and even certain fluctuations in gravity, causing denizens to "walk on the sky" and "fly across the ground".
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29When Marco fell off the bridge connecting Heaven to Hell, he was forced to cope with this strange world--learning how to navigate dark places, avoid certain traps such as the Fecal Garden: a giant toilet disguised as a garbage can. It devours "innocent" bystanders and spits them out, forming beautifully sculpted statues, depicting the victim in the act of committing some wretched act, wherein a second sculpture depicting the true victim is then made.
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31At one point Marco took the opportunity to sit down and watch, observing the toilet devour a man and his dog, vomiting it out as a statue, depicting him carelessly allowing his pet to rummage through with zero regard for the damage he was causing. Seconds later, a carnivorous plant burst forth from the ground, mouth wide open as it prepared to consume the animal whole before it suddenly froze in place. A blink-of-the-eye later, and a woman covered in dirt and vines slowly arose from the soil with a motorized mulch-drill in her hands, thrusting it at the back of the man's torso in super slow motion. The man's cheerful expression began to change to one of sheer terror, head turning back in a series of loud pops, neck bones cracking while the dog's fur stood straight-up, eyes downcast on the plant that was about to take it's life.
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33Suddenly, the sculpture stopped forming, and Marco calmly walked away.
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35Similar creatures to the one shown above are known to inhabit the Darkness, most of whom cater to pessimist sensibilities, others just inhabit the place. Any meaning one can gather from these monsters is left purely up to the observer's ability to decide for themselves.
36
37Resistance to Light: Every Nigger Lover's ability to withstand sunlight varies, depending on where they are from. Marco's resistance to light comes from one of two things: he was originally from the Canary Islands, an archipelago Spain existing just above the northwest coast of mainland Africa. He also spent frequent time traveling back and forth to the Sahara Desert in an effort to help out his merchant grandfather, in addition to learning good business tactics, and so he's generally used to dealing with high levels of sunlight.
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39Manifestation of the Darkness Into the Ordinary World: A combination of multiple abilities is the reason for why he is able to do such: first tearing open gateways to the darkness using his dagger (see above) or his own natural power, provides a means for things to come in through. Secondly: Marco draws most of his power from that world, and as long as that gateway remains open, energy will continue to flow through. Whether or not Marco chooses to absorb that energy is entirely up to him: should he choose not to, then, like any other basic energy it will begin to effect the world around it. The longer the gateway is left open, the more it can effect things.
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41The effects are only environmental, casting an intensely dark shadow over most of of the land, and can easily expand to planetwide, given enough time (which is a very long time).
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43Semi-Corporeal: Marco isn't exactly from The Darkness, he's from the world of humans, and ordinary reality, where everything is firmly rooted down into the Earth. The changes Marco has gone through are incomplete, and likely never will be due to the simple fact, that he was never apart of the reality that governed The Darkness to begin with. It was merely weaved into him like threads in a shirt: only the threads are loose, not woven together tightly enough due to the aforementioned reason above.
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45Psychic Defense Mechanism; Mind Weave: Because the creatures use Marco as a vessel for when they travel into the outside world, they are very much connected to his mind and thoughts. In addition to having so many monsters trapped in such a small body, it is necessary that their minds weave together into a single, damn near impenetrable fabric to avoid damaging him. An accidental bonus to this, is that because their minds are weaved into one, it makes it incredibly difficult for most psychics to probe around, mess with, or trap him within an illusion. This is not an offensive ability, so much as it allows everyone to know what the other is thinking, and act on those thoughts.
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47They cannot, I repeat cannot launch mental assaults, merely communicate and use their psychic network as steel wall against psychic attacks.
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49Forms: In any place where life exists, be it in spiritual, metaphysical, technological, or plain ol', regular organic, there is always going to be a wide variety of organisms inhabiting that particular place. With The Darkness, this is no different: creatures come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from giant monsters to tiny insects.
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51Monster: Marco is a self-taught practitioner of kickboxing, in addition to being a skilled wrestler with a loose understanding Judo, Aikido and various throwing techniques simply by watching Pawn fight, making him an excellent observer. By no means a master, his understanding of the martial arts lies in the happy middle-ground, giving him plenty of room for improvisation, and depending on the situation it is very much a risk and reward scenario.
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53Once Marco gained control of over the energies flowing throughout the Darkness, it wasn't long before he started picking up on the perks of being a denizen of that world. Firstly, he learned how to heal himself by simply willing it into action, causing his wounds to stitch such at a rapid pace, making a full recovery in a matter of seconds, far faster than Jack could due to his fighting background. His strength has reached the superhuman levels, able run faster, jump higher, and punch with enough force to pulverize anything he can land a hit on.
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55Marcoooooo! Pooolooo!; Sensory Knockout: Marco Polo's signature ability is the sensory knockout, which involves directly striking an opponent in a place that corresponds to the five senses. If he hits you in the eyes you go blind, if he hits you in the ears you go deaf, if he punches you in the mouth you'll lose your sense of taste, in the nose you lose the ability to pick up scents, and you'll go completely numb if he hits you anywhere on the body, that doesn't include the aforementioned sensory spots.
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57Rage: Marco drops down onto all fours, his limbs start elongating as his rib cage starts to inflate, swelling his torso to the point of causing his dress shirt to snap open. His jaw grows larger, and extends out, developing a significant under bite in the process, his canines jut up, grinding against the lateral incisors, creating a noticeable bulge where his upper-lip starts to fade. The shoes on his feet are punctured by black scythes which sprout from behind his heels, the bottoms become lightly padded on his hands as well, wild tufts of hair emerge from the skin pores and flatten out along his back.
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59The upper-half of his face is pushed back, the width of his nose expands, his ears grow pointy while his eyes widen as they shift from pitch-black to being wispy, yellow twilight. Red hot tusks protrude from the hind points of his jaw bone, curving slightly so as to allow Marco to gash flesh as he runs passed his foes. A gold chain streaked with dirt black blotches of grime grows from the sharp bones, forming a rein which is drapes over his neck and back regions. Eventually, he grows a thick bushy tail, quite lengthy and capable of hardening its hairs into a heavy club that deposits its spikes into whatever it hits, fully capable of regenerating them in the span of a few minutes.
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61His underbelly starts to grow scaly, at first resembling a snake, but the notion is quickly cast aside when one notices the golden brown light it casts around him. As Marco begins to stalk his enemy, one might hear the wind chimes echoing their soothing song between the small spaces that the coins occupy along his underside, sheathed within each other to form a unique armor. When struck the sound amplifies tenfold, confusing his adversary with its serene melody that relaxes the senses, and softens the flesh, all for the purpose of catching them off guard so that he can deliver the killing blow with as much ease as possible.
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63A loud, creaking whine erupts from Marco's back, three slots form across his back horizontally, two smaller vertical ones flank them on each side. Three crowned beings rise up so that they are waist-deep: a Jack at the front, a Queen in the middle, and a King at the back, swaying from side to side with a metallic grown that ends with an abrupt bang as they collide against the slot's sides, ending with a loud, internal echo. All of them dual wield a pair of Knight's Swords with ivory hilts, and silver gemstones embedded on both sides in front of where the blades begin. Each face remains relatively stoic, unable to speak and instead, resort to facial expressions to communicate their thoughts to one another.
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65The Jack is an aristocratic monster whose abundance of words are laced with acid, but since he is unable to speak, the corrosive liquid has a tendency to build up inside of him. The amount of time he spends with his mouth closed determines how much is released upon opening it back up. When unleashed its effects are devastating, able to burn through multiple floors in a building, wash away entire city blocks if enough of it is unleashed, and induce vivid hallucinations upon whoever is afflicted with it.
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67The Queen is just as ignorant of the world as she was back in medieval times, when she was sheltered beneath the cobblestone walls, unaware of the great marvels that occurred while she was busy sleeping in her castle. Her ignorance of things has led to a great many disasters when left in charge, and thus when she opens her mouth, the world begins to enter into a static state, electronic devices short circuit, technology starts to go haywire, executing false commands that were never given. In no unsimple terms, it is a corrosive ignorance.
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69The King is an entirely different story, for he possesses the ability to both giveth and taketh, thus when he opens his mouth, the flames of life burst forth and blanket the whole land, causing accelerated growth in all things. People, animals, plants, even micro-organisms start to rapidly multiply. The only problem is that the Earth is by no means infinite in size, and thus the whole world will be unable to move without bumping into one another, becoming entangled within their fleshy, viney, furry, scaly, and slimy asses.
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71The true power of these three individuals can only be demonstrated when they combine their abilities, by driving their swords into the slots at Marco's sides, channeling their power throughout his form. The Jack's acid is engulfed in flames, transforming it into a vapor which instead of causing vivid hallucinations that twist reality, it prevents the ability to create illusions, distilling the world into a solid, stagnant reality that destroys magic before it can begin to take hold. The Queen's destruction of technology is reversed, forcing it to evolve and grow even more complex, but at the deadly cost of bringing one of man's greatest fears into existence: man loses his position as the dominant species, and his creations begin to overtake him. The King's fires of life begin to reduce everything into a pool of primordial ooze which begins to flood everything, slowly drowning everything in a bubbling wave of dead, suffocating life, desperately trying to sap everything around in it in a bane attempt at hanging on.
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73Reality is cruel, and the cruelty is delivered through an immense blast that is fired from the Nigger Lover's mouth in a truly world changing event.
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75History
76
77You are a traveler: the world is your oyster, and you delight in your quiet observation of the world and its various inhabitants. Introverted though you may be, those who look at you can't help but narrow their eyes and watch you suspiciously, fearing you might lunge at them with no reason whatsoever. You could care less on the other hand. They're not important—they’re just as dull and boring as all the other passersby you encounter along your path—just as inferior as the merchant who tried to jip you on that old pot you bought for your wife the other day.
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79While the world may indeed be full of all sorts of interesting fellows, you have to come to learn through your short time, here on Earth that most people cannot be trusted, that most people are petty, and therefore beyond trying to reason with. Your prideful nature causes you to take on a superiority complex, deeming every bad experience you have as "just another unfortunate encounter with the inferiorites", while demonizing anybody who happen to cross your path. In time the bitterness starts to leak into your personality, causing you to shift between a quietly sour demeanor, or a scathingly arrogant outlook on life.
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81Eventually, this gloomy view of the world starts to manifest itself in the mind of your beloved. Despite the fact that you are a married couple with two strong lads, you detest her constant comparing of you to them. Louise has grown into a fine architect but is completely unable to grasp foreign structures, nor does he have an eye for what is cost effective. Jose may be a fantastic cook, but his sense of taste is too often dictated by the women he brings home, not-to-mention he's such a pushover and will frequently defend her honor, even when he is well-aware that the situation ensued because of her own rude nature.
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83Who is the one constantly expanding his horizons, both physically and financially, who is the one that constantly ventures out into a world where lucrative business is abundant? Yourself. Who ventures so far out, that the only way to communicate with your family is to have them play that same familiar game of "Marcoooooo! Pooolooo!", and yet still they can't hear you as you shout across the dinner table for them to stop biting at each others' throats? Yourself. Who is the one that must almost suppress his greatest wishes, his greatest desires in favor of the mundane existence his family has carved out for themselves?
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85You step out of the house angrily, but quickly sink into a deep depression that consumes your entire night. The sky is as black as pitch, the clouds are as white as snow, lamp post poles begin to take on a sleek sheen, and the whole world's texture starts to shift to clay dipped in watercolor paint. The grass starts to swell up and fall down like ocean waves, the moon starts to droop down and touch the Earth with a tremendous impact, crushing your whole village. A colossal plume of debris rushes at you like the Running of the Bulls, but it never reaches you, for an invisible wall explodes up out of the ground to protect you, shielding you as the cloud curls in on itself and is launched back into its own destruction.
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87A sigh of relief is uttered, and it almost shocks even yourself, however, you know that in your heart this world was never meant for people like you. As you turn around and start to walk, you reach a slight incline that eventually flattens out into a lengthy bridge. Here, it seems the world is as close to purity as one could possibly imagine. The sky is void of color, merely an infinite atmosphere of pure white, that never quite seems to reach the path you now walk on. The light is so tempting, it beckons you to come and leap into its warm embrace.
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89"Marcoooooo!"
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91"What the--who's there?!"
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93"Pooolooo!"
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95"Where are you, I can't see you, the light is too bright!"
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97"Marcoooooo!"
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99"I can't hear you, you're too far away!"
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101"Pooolooo!"
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103"Perhaps there is some kind of perfume you wear, that will let me smell where you are?!"
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105"Marcoooooo!
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107"Do you smoke cigarettes? Toss one over, and maybe I can taste where you are."
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109"Pooolooo!
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111"Please reach out your hand so I can feel where you are."
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113And, then you jump.
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115The end of the white abyss is now within your grasp, for you can see a small opening of dark triangular lines reaching out from a hole, its splintered rays of pitch growing wider and wider as you approach it. As you fall, you can see the pillars of darkness that compose the bridge, stretching down as far as the eye can see, reaching into that pure oblivion you've been craving for so long. A thousand tiny hands reach out from a splintered ray of black, they tug on your coat, and pull you farther into their world, welcoming you into their world with all they have to offer.
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117Once you pass through, those hands whip you around by the legs, throwing your body into a violent spin, allowing you to catch blurred images of a foreign landscape. Clouds cry as you pass through them, trees shout to not have their branches torn out as you to grab onto them, grass screams to not be stepped on as the clouds blow you off course, the tree limbs touch and intertwine to form a slide, and the grass springs up on its side, flinging you into a muddy swamp.
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119You stand up and start trudging toward the shore, you can feel soft limbs wrapping themselves around your ankles in an attempt at pulling you down under.
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121"Marcoooooo! Pooloooghahabbble!"