Vicarriss

Draconis / Barbarian

Submitted character story

Vicarriss was born on the planet Drakonia- a cruel, hostile world ruled by the Draconis- a race hell bent on the destruction of all other sentient life. They have no culture, no justice, and no higher goals, making them one of the most feared races in the entire galaxy.

 Immediately he was abandoned by his mother, who had no parental instinct for her six children, left alone to survive in the harsh jungles on the lonely world. Seeing the sunrise was no guarantee- food was scarce and competition was fierce, whether it was from other creatures or even other baby Draconis. As he grew older, his hunter instincts grew sharper and he grew larger. After a few years, he left the woods, finding himself in an industrial district.

 The sight terrified the youngling, but it only got worse when a group of adults captured him, forcing him into a bag and taking him to an educational facility, where he was given the long, dehumanizing designation of  "XV-88617412." He spent over 20 years in this facility. By day he was taught the art of war: flying battle vehicles, warfare strategy, weapon usage, capturing enemies, and many, many ways to kill enemies- some taking less than a second, others drawn out for maximum suffering. By night he was tortured for hours in different, unique ways in an effort to destroy any semblance of mercy. 

When he finally graduated, XV-88617412 was injected with Akro Serum- a fluid that permanently burned away the nerve endings, removing all physical sensation. The pain lasted hours, feeling like liquid gold filling every single centimeter of his body. When the brutal process was done, he finally received his first real name: Vicarriss. The following day, he went out to deployment.

For years the Draconis doctrine held firm. Vicariss slaughtered anyone in his path without thought. He did not differentiate between soldiers or civilians- they were all seen as targets. When the battle was won, every trace of the species was burned, before the ship flew off to the next world. This lasted until a war against a planet that had barely discovered fire had concluded. Upon finding a small child's doll, Vicarriss asked himself a question: "Is there more to life than violence?" 

The question terrified him.

Vicarriss tried to ignore it. He continued the fight with those same words echoing within his mind, unable to be shaken off.  It wasn't until he was critically injured and forced in a medical pod that he answered it: "There has to be."

 For months he planned his getaway. He knew if he was caught escaping, the Draconis would kill him. So, he continued following orders, growing to hate his own species with a boiling passion. On the night of his escape, he fled without violence. All he did was sneak past the guards, steal a pod, and leave. After finding out about the city of Utopia on Earth- a small country given to displaced aliens- he decided it was a perfect world to call his new home.

Upon arrival, his pod crashed into the sea, stranding him on Earth. When he arrived at Utopia, the reputation of the Draconis proceeded him- instead of welcoming him into the sprawling city, they fired at him in defense, forcing him to flee. Upon attempting to integrate with the dominant population, they ran away in fear. In a final effort he spent years studying the humans, learning their language and what makes them tick. He came to the conclusion that because humans liked art, he would make art, and the humans would like him for it.

Vicarriss moved into an abandoned factory and made wood carvings based on some of the art he had personally destroyed. He ended up loving the process, carving the logs into intricate pieces with his own claws. Once he had enough pieces, he took his best to the nearest town in an attempt to finally integrate, only for it to do nothing- the humans still ran away in fear.

Once his plan had failed, Vicarriss gave up, resigned to his fate as a pariah. He abandoned his wood carvings, feeling no desire to ever carve wood again. He fled the factory, leaving all of his work behind. To this day, Vicarriss still lives in abandoned buildings, staying there until he is found and inevitably chased away again. He only leaves to hunt for food, which he does multiple times a day.

To those who have found Vicarriss, all they see is a monster. Standing at 9'3, he is intimidating and overwhelming to all who see him. Vicarriss' appearance is so terrifying it causes a primal fear response in most creatures- only those with the strongest will can even bear to look at him. Combine that with skin thick enough to stop a broadsword, claws longer than a human forearm, bony plates protecting his vulnerable areas further, and deep, red, reptilian eyes and Vicarriss looks like something that would wait in the dark to swallow you whole.

Vicarriss must consume a large amount of meat each day. Should he ever go too hungry, he enters a ravenous state where he attacks anything he comes across. Because of this, he hunts frequently, often targeting larger animals like bears, moose, deer, and anything else he can catch. He prefers eating their meat raw and has an affinity for lung meat. Vicarriss cannot eat plant matter of any kind without becoming violently ill.

Despite all of this, Vicarriss is a relatively peaceful creature, usually choosing to shy away from conflict. When he speaks, he speaks in short, basic sentences as a toddler would. Insults hurt him deeply. However, if he is cornered, he has the strength to lift entire vehicles with ease, while his claws can shred through flesh and bone like paper. His skin can withstand swords and bullets alike, while his lack of working nerves means he feels no pain or pleasure, often ignoring injuries until the exhaustion takes its toll.

Vicarriss has never felt love or acceptance. He was never trained to. He believes he is a monster, and that he deserves his isolation. Vicarriss despises every aspect of himself- if he was physically capable of producing tears, he would often. All he wants is for someone to see past his horrifying exterior for what he wishes he was: someone worth staying for.