Name: Mainard (Mai to friends- what few he has)
Species: Glukkon executive worker model,
Status level: Glokkstar (recently obtained)
Age: 28
Height: 6’11"
Employment: Head CEO of the Dark Seas Oil Refinery- the sole monopolizing company of a fledgling business trying to oust fat as the main fuel of Oddworld.
Favorite Quote: "work harder than you play and play harder than you work"
Lifestyle: Remarkably quiet and uncommunicative around strangers, Mainard is one of the most unassuming glukkons to be awarded the coveted stature of Glokkstar by the joint decision of the Magog Cartel and personally honored by Queen Margaret of Nolybab (though not much- she was busy that day) under the surface of quiet and unassuming glukkon son, Mainard is an explosively flamboyant individual, loving of heavy partying, opium, fights, games, mudokon tossing tournaments, ‘torture-the-employees’ and anything else slotting heavily into the ‘play hard’ category. Though he would never admit it, Mainard adores the glitzy garish ‘frumpy clothing’ he wears nowadays as a Glokkstar.
Career: THE head glukk at Dark Seas- He has earned titles of CEO, Glokkstar, and ‘fastest sprinter during an explosion’ all awards he proudly keeps on his desk. When it comes to business dealings, Mainard believes in a sort of ‘remain invisible and keep senses WIDE open’ approach to dealing with people he intends to screw over. This approach has worked remarkably well, many rival CEO’s feeling like their babbling to themselves as the flamboyantly garmented and stone silent glukkon simply nods… Mainard picks up a lot of information as his rival’s brain partially melt as the hours of proceedings go on… Head of R & D as well as product possessing, Mainard is always striving for new and innovative ways of spoon-feeding his product to all the khanzumerz out there eager for another taste…
Primary interests: having reached the ultimate goal, Mainard seeks to dig his fingers in that much deeper to hold together the (HEAVILY SECRET) facts behind his factory- facts he keeps hidden from the media- other glukkons and even his own mother, fearing his empire suffering HEAVILY should these facts come to light. Facts including little ones like the 10 mudokon a day turnover due to dangerous working conditions, and facts including BIG ones such as the almost infinite oil sink that lead to the total monopoly in his field not being a pool of merely harmless oil but the physical manifestation of an Odd of death, change and transformation currently asleep under his factory- a factory that had been constructed atop the ruins of a temple erected in warning over the site.
Secondary interest: dedicated to play almost as hard as he is to work, Mainard enjoys a variety of different activities when he’s not ‘putting it in for the team’, ranging from listening to his pet mudokon play songs on his piano to getting into fights at concerts to yelling his head off at the annual M.T. Tournament. He has also been known to sit in on slig card games and even go for walks out in the open air (gasp) – though still not at night.
Conflicts: Mainard is a glukkon with few close friends- for one main reason. Having been quiet all his life to hide his own insecurities, Mai rarely allows people close to him- he can’t stand the thought of laying himself bare to someone, of being that vulnerable when he already has so much problems defending himself. It doesn’t help that he has nearly been assassinated more than five times, either.
Appearance: rather scrawny for a glukkon, Mai is what one could call ‘wiry’ frequent walks and regular trips to the gym having toughened his muscles but added almost no bulk to his spindly form. Sharp of feature, Mainard is considered relatively attractive, a ‘pretty boy’ among glukkons- an impression not aided by his habit of acting submissive and almost feminine when talking in depth with someone.
Psychological traits: Quiet on the outside, Mai is, and has been for the entirety of his life, a slightly off individual. The ‘friendly psychopath on the corner’, he has always had a calm if disquieting personality, his mannerisms differing wildly when around those he knows as opposed to those he doesn’t. Among his odder traits are his dislike of shoes, habit of walking in the open air, talking to himself, and fraternizing, even a little, with the sligs. He has been known to show sympathy (sparsely), compassion (even more sparsely) and even generosity (…ehh VERY sparsely) when dealing with sligs. Mainard is also one of the few glukkons having a phobia of fleeches, a fact that led him to be given a newly hatched mudokon as a pet when he was younger… Almost always seen with his pet mudokon, (rumor has it he addresses it for opinions on mergers and stock options) Mainard is a truly strange example of the glukkon super species.
Name: Wren
Species: Mudokon worker class
Status level: Scrub
Age: 9
Height: 4"5"
Employment: pet/companion/adviser/punching bag/friend to his master
Favorite Quote: Oh Mai… (exasperated, though amused, tone)
Lifestyle: having been raised since the moment of his hatching in the presence of his lord and master, Wren owes almost no allegiance to his own species and dedicates himself solely to always being there for his owner, master, Odd and only friend. The only one in the entirety of Oddworld to give a damn, Mai became his world and he follows the glukkon around like a sloggie. Remarkably bright in the realms of economics and financing, and a swift hand at buisness negotiations, Wren has attended many a secret course in many a high glukkon college, and actively serves as unofficial adviser to the hugely successful but nervous glukkon.
Career: serving his master utterly and completely, he spends almost all his time in his master’s company, whether surfing the net channels on his personal laptop or sleeping underfoot, Wren is always there- whether for advice, a shoulder to cry on or an impromptu sparring match partner, he strives to be the ultimate friend. He was also responsible for the lack of success of two different assassination attempts- the details of which are carefully kept under wraps.
Primary interest: his entire life is wrapped up with Mai. Without Mai he feels himself to be absolutely nothing. In the event of his permanent separation or Mai’s unfortunate demise, Wren has already devised the most effective ways of committing suicide.
Secondary interest: despite this being far down on the list, Wren is always trying to muscle Mai in directions he believes the glukkon to be lacking in. ALWAYS trying to wean Mai off of Opium, fights often erupt, only ending when the glukkon unintentionally knocks his pet unconscious, hurtling one thing or another in his anger. Another factor always haunting the little mudokon is the fate of his fellow workers in the factory. Fighting the urge to bully his friend into a reform that could site the glukkon for suspected possession, mudokon sympathy or even treason, Wren is always fighting the urge to fight for his kind whenever he sees them working and dying in misery amidst the toxic and addictive poisons of the factory.
Conflicts: to serve his people or to serve his friend, the conflict is more appropriately labeled ‘trying to forget about his people’s misery and live his own damn life’ –a conflict he is always failing in
Appearance: young, small and pale, Wren is almost a foot shorter than most mudokons, his skin actually a deeper blue tone from accompanying his master out on walks. His face is marked by several pieces of body jewelry, including several lip studs and an eyebrow ring, and several loops through the skin of his ‘hair tassle’. He is most often seen sporting a collar at all times at his neck. He also is always carrying a knife somewhere about his person.
Psychological traits: Wren would die for Mai. In an instant if need be. He is utterly in love with his master in any way and would do anything for him, including torturing complete innocents. If for some reason he became a danger to Mai, there would be no stopping him from ending his own life. Rather pathetic in his devotion, Wren is always in the way and tends to be overly nosy in all his masters dealings.
Name: Kurrakillyan (Kurk) Professionally- the Executioner
Species: Slig worker class
Status level: non applicable
Age: 110
Height: 4"10"
Employment: officially: head and sole employee of Arcanum Detainum: a supernatural service offered for dealing with anything from rampaging spirits in Necrum to random uprisings of Shrykull or other troublesome Odds. Unofficially: the avatar of the Odd Krrnyak- Odd of power, war and devious undertakings.
Favorite quote: AHAHHAHAHA HA HAH HAH AHH AHH AHHHHH!!!! (Insane cackling laughter)
Lifestyle: Having lived a loooong time, the vestiges of who Kirk used to be are almost nothing more than a faltering memory. Having originally been a slig among a group of slave hunters in the jungles of necrum, Kirk had been separated from his group. In a delirious haze, he had wandered, falling several times in what should have been fatal falls, till he came to the depths of a deep and foreboding cave, stinking of death.
Stumbling inside, Kurrakillyan was suddenly struck by a shaft of utter nothingness, of darkness and silence, broken only by a voice not dead but never alive striking deep into his mind. It offered him things, unspeakable things, in return for his obedience blah blah blah we know the drill… well anyway- the agreement was struck and Kurrakillyan became the Executioner, slig avatar and one helluva scary bastitch.
Career: making his moolah through dealing with all things incomprehensible and arcane, he can do anything from hexing a competitor to wiping off the opponents entire mudokon worker population- for a price. Usually extracted in mudokon workers as well as cred moolah, he often proves to be an amiable guy; throwing the unspeakably mutilated carcasses of the mudokons on the grill and inviting the slig workers over for a SoulStorm Keggar and BBQ.
Primary interests: always on the hunt, the Executioner’s entire purpose in life is the seeking and enslavement of Avatars or the hunting down and tapping of Odds. Gathering power for his lord Odd, he is always trying one scheme or another to harness, institute or even implement the conditions for ascensions to avatarhood, or searching for an Odd in a weakened condition to reign in for his lord and master.
Secondary interests: the years wane heavily on him. Always seeking one form of entertainment or another, the Executioner is always roaming outside his master’s intentions, seeking some way to alleviate the grinding boredom. A devoted sadist and completely and utterly insane, he likes to tear apart souls in his free time and torture and slaughter countless muddies for breakfast and come back for seconds for lunch.
Conflicts: one of the unfortunate side effects of the avatarhood was an almost unbearable ego to go along with the power. The strength of the Executioners Id is amazing, disgusting and utterly incorrigible, so far as to make his own Odd hate his guts. But he gets the job done. ….once he has a chunk of power sitting pretty in his hands, he always has to fight the urge to take it, use it, and wreak unbelievable havoc on the world around him instead of meekly handing it over to his Odd. Always talking heatedly to himself, he is constantly at war with his Odd, cajoling, pleading, screaming and arguing- usually to absolutely no avail- a fact that drives him nuts.
Appearance: tall, gray, and rippling with hard muscle, the Executioner is a hard, grizzled old slig. His body is covered, every inch, by twisted scars, burnmarks and tattoos twisting along the grayed skin. He carries no weapons but sports a circular wooden medallion studded with strange teeth- teeth rumored to come from the mouth of a vykker. He wears a backpack adorned with feathers, bits of wood and other arcane mumbo jumbo- it’s interior never seen by mortal eyes (thankfully *shutter*) he also carries a VERY wicked knife- the blood runnel so deep that it completely pierces the strange metal.
Psychological traits: Frighteningly, sadistically, horribly, and utterly insane in every way, the Executioner is like a force of nature barely controlled by his Odd. Frightening to be around, nobody wants to meet him in broad daylight, much less a dark alley. Many a mudokon has met their end staring in utter terror at the wild manic gleaming eyes of this maniac.
I'll have roach and any other chars written down soon enough... and hopefully another chapter up soon. if anyone's reading it that is
Tides of Odd char profiles
