Ssussun

In Depth

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  Warning: Some of these images are not safe for work. (i.e. There might be a Drow dick or two...)
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

• Fun Things!
  Just little silly tidbits that don't really need a thumbnail.
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  Mr. Fanservice Bishōnen Long-Haired Pretty Boy Estrogen Brigade The Charmer
  Chick Magnet The Tease Troubled, But Cute
  
  Badass Bookworm Cultured Badass Jerkass Facade Hidden Heart of Gold Freudian Excuse Slave Collar
  Dark Secret Personal Issues Used to Be a Sweet Kid Black Mage Dark Is Not Evil
  
  Dark and Troubled Past Blue Blood Parental Abandonment Harmful Childhood Torture
  Made A Slave Sex Slave Shirtless Captive Freedom or Death
  

  
  
  

  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  INTJ - Introverted Intuitive Thinking Judging (Turbulent Variant)
  One of the rarest and most strategically capable personalities, making up only two percent of the population. Notorious "bookworms", they prefer the knowledge that they can obtain from a book over the word of another's mouth. Quite a paradox to many, they can be the most limitless dreamers, and the most cynical of critics. They believe that with enough effort and willpower, almost anything is possible. INTJ's are extremely intelligent and confident in aspects of knowledge that they have taken an interest in. Unfortunately, socializing and diplomacy are rarely such subjects given much attention to. This makes them utterly inept when interacting with others, often not caring if their words are hurtful or insensitive. This makes them often times "loners", as they rarely find someone willing to look past their social flaws.
  
  
  Strengths: Quick, imaginative, strategic mind. High self-confidence. Independent and decisive. Hard-working and determined. Open-minded. Jacks-of-all-Trades.
  
  Weaknesses: Arrogant. Judgmental. Overly analytical. Loathe highly structured environments. Clueless in romance.
  
  Romantic Relationships: Mystifyingly deep and intelligent people, they bring a stability and unique insight into relationships. They value most honest, and open communication, and all factors of a relationship are open to discussion and change, but this must be reciprocated. INTJs will sometimes come off as unfeeling because they will do what they think is for the best of the relationship, regardless of sentiments. It is important to note they do not take these decisions lightly. They spend an incredible amount of time pondering over a situation for the best possible outcome, especially when deeply devoted to a relationship. They mesh best with others of an intuitive type, and having a trait such as extroversion, feeling, or prospecting can help them to grow and balance their lives.
  
  Friendships: People with the INTJ personality have a much easier time developing friendships than intimate relationships, but still fall short in some ways. They are notoriously difficult to read and develop an idea about, and just as notorious for not bothering to return the same gesture, as they are reluctant to spend time dwelling over someone "lesser" than them. They shield their emotions, preferring logic instead, and expect others to do the same. However, they are loyal and quite fun to be around those few they feel comfortable being open around. Their humor is dark and witty, and often say things in a way that must be "read in between the lines", making excellent story tellers. This puts a damper on their choices for friends to fellow analysts and diplomats who can easily interpret misdirecting language.
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• • OoC: Changes to Ssussun

    Many patrons of The Golden Tether know of the long-term monogamous relationship between Ssussun and Yokan. Yokan's player and I have come to a mutual conclusion that we feel their story has finally met its 'Happily Ever After'. What happens when a story is granted the perfect conclusion? It ends.
    
    Yokan's player has, for a good while now, had little, to no motivation for playing Yokan, or participating in roleplay in general. As Ssussun's player, I still very much enjoy playing him and want to continue placing him in random situations, perhaps find more long-term continuities to be a part of, and see what other sorts of shenanigans I can get him into. Because of this, Yokan's player and I have decided to retcon their relationship and its entirety from Ssussun's story.
    
    What does this possibly mean to you? First and foremost; that Ssussun is now a single bachelor. (Watch out, ladies. He's a huge flirt.) Secondly, I'd appreciate it if any character that had direct knowledge/involvement of Ssussun's relationship with Yokan, would kindly remove that little detail from their future interactions.
    
    Thank you to everyone that actually bothered to read this. I look forward to releasing the short, dark, and troublesome turd that is Ssussun back into the atmosphere of The Golden Tether.
    
    Ta ta, for now!

  • Journal Entry

    The little Drow has been missing several days. Sprawled out upon his bed would be found a ledger that was missing several pages. Some of the pages within the book held journal entries in elegant script, but the top most page was written in a handwriting that was not proper and pristine. No, it was written in blood and... something else.
    

    

  • Knife Party

    An interesting occurrence happened to me not long ago. It rendered me sightless for a time, which is the reason for my delay in writing about it. But now that I'm considerably in much better health, I have decided to divulge my thoughts once more onto parchment via way of magical quill.
    
    I met a strange man. Hmm. I feel that 'man' is too broad a term for this being. At first glance, he is an astutely tall and lanky jackal. His proportions to his thickness remind me much of simple stick figure drawings made by clumsy children, so flat and paper-like, that surely a wrongly faced direction could render him invisible. Oddly, that is not the most notable curiosity about his appearance. For riddled along his thin frame are a grand number of piercings and enchantments. I did not bother to count the number of holes he has buried in his skin, but they are quite numerous. The most prominently disturbing of such, is a thick set of linked rings that are pierced straight into a docked stub of a tail. No doubt having such a burden to constantly carry has weighted him in ways I cannot imagine. He also mentioned that a strong enough pull on the dangling chain could quite possibly render him without a spine. I do not doubt this revelation in the slightest.
    
    My description of this oddity that is a man really isn't the priority of my explanation of what occurred to me. But he is still quite important to my ramblings in this entry. For I met him inside the Golden Tether infirmary one evening. I had a numerous amount of lacerations and damage done to myself in my efforts to finally procure for my own a Bebilith. I had attempted to enslave one before, but it had nearly cost me my life. I am not proud of my initial failure, but on a positive note, such a turn of events resulted in the meeting of my beloved Mokol, (who perhaps I'll be more bold in writing about at another time). However shortsighted I was the first time, my second attempt was largely successful, save for the gashes and bruises that had me finding myself inside the infirmary that displeases me so very much.
    
    Upon my entry into the hospital, I met the man I previously mentioned. He was having his own wounds looked to by a rather skittish mouse lass. The amount of care I've been provided with in that wretched place has always given me disdain, so it was no surprise to me that the fellow had dismissed the fumbling woman to tend to himself. We ended up exchanging a few words before he offered to assist me in my own nursing of infliction. Naturally given my closet-love for pain from others, I agreed. I found myself rather surprised that he was not gentle in his administrations at all. Normally I wouldn't have regarded such brunt actions one way or another. But lately my wounds have been rather lovingly tended to, and such harshness made me react in a way that seemed to spark a natural sadistic glee within the other.
    
    Needless to say, one thing led indubitably to another, and we both found ourselves stabbing one another with our carried weapons, as well as displaying our inward and very hidden love for self-harm. Our interesting exchange of blows and sultry moans were cut disappointingly short, for we were quickly discovered and promptly banned from the establishment. (As such, I'm not terribly perturbed over.) It was concluded that perhaps we should continue elsewhere, and I offered the use of my little portable work space as a means of furthering our curiosities in one another. We made a stop first at his own suite, for which I had to force myself not to pry into. I had pegged my own little home away from home as an interesting modification of the suites that are offered to stay in, but his was dramatically different in its own unique right. From what little glance I allowed myself to gather, the interior of his room was absolutely covered in a grand amount of paintings and sketches, for which my blind eyes could not very well make out the subjects of any. Certainly though, having a place so heavily occupied with faces, or whatever they were, was surely an almost disturbing image to behold.
    
    The gentleman revealed himself by the name of Mirra. I don't know why, but I rather like this name. It rolls off the lilt of my natural tongue in a pleasing way. It was also later revealed through our evening together that he is an Anubian immortal metal elemental. Quite a mouthful, to say the least, and the event that resulted in finding out that he is a metal elemental was what unfortunately concluded our time together. To stay on track of my topic- we eventually found ourselves within my dimensional pocketed room. It is an outlet, for certain. A dungeon maybe many would call it, but it also harbors my work space for my actual business of enchanter, as well as my personal library of the occasional rare and exotic book that happens to catch my fancy. My small study does not boast a large variety of texts, but what there are of, would certainly cause envy to even the most astute of collectors. For I have many books written in ancient languages that have long since been forgotten, and many others whose magical properties are so impressive that being touched by the wrong hands could render entire planes of existence as black voids. I digress. A scattered and lofty mind as my own easily sways from my initial point.
    
    Inside my little work space, it was decided that we would form a relationship of give and take, alternating turns of bestowing pain upon one another. Through a coin toss, I was determined to be the first to inflict agony. My satisfaction in this ruling was quite immense. However, this was the point where things started to go quickly... hellward. Normally, in my line of work, when I am about to take on such a role of punisher, I perform a simple series of spells to determine things such as constitution, magical abilities, racial origins, possible weaknesses, and a few other valuable pieces of information that help me to determine the best course of action for what I am about to do. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of forgoing such a preventative measure for the sake of respecting my new colleague's personal privacy, and instead decided to base my operations on what I'd already gathered from him. It might not have been a crucial mistake had I been mindful to take my procedures on the light side, and work my way up into a comfortable level. However, the sorts of... projects that I usually take on, are of significantly higher resistance and fortitude than my new found friend. This mindset proved to be my undoing from the beginning, as my first course of action was to heat a morning star and hurl it into the side of the poor sweet jackal's thin leg.
    
    This certainly caused a great deal of pain, which was the desired effect. But, it was obviously an immense error on my part, because it had shattered the bone underneath it, and rendered the complex being quite bloody. I admit, upon realizing what I had done, I immediately sought to ensure his survival, which resulted in my over compensating to his needs. I surely had found myself falling in between one extreme or the other, much to my dismay. So strange... the way I am so easily able to disassociate myself from some, yet completely allow myself to truly care about others. I am not even sure how it is that those few that manage to slip through my usual masks are able to do so. But all the same, I felt a great amount of guilt and anguish at having nearly incapacitated my companion.
    
    I was able to save enough of the awkward situation to eventually continue our little game of 'doctor' and 'patient', which eventually resulted in the use of a favored device of mine. This was the point that things got incredibly... interesting. Some years ago, a gnome tinkerer that had been fond of me, crafted for me a cog-box that has a crank-like mechanism that when rotated enough, produces a surge of electrical current from the push of a switch. So clever this box is, that it even has gauges of various sorts to adjust the amount of flow that pulses through it. I had placed several wires leading to this device, hooked onto Mirra's body in many places, meant to provide a painful sensation that was not often utilized by many. Surely my little box is far more advanced in industrial science than most have ever seen. I have used this item flawlessly a grand number of times, and the first time I released the current into the jackal, it produced its usual and desired effect, much to my satisfaction. I hadn't thought much more of it, and increased the voltage considerably for my second attempt. This was when it would prove once again that my ignorance in neglecting my favored spell of discovery would come back to haunt me.
    
    When I flicked the switch for the second time, I found myself being the one electrocuted, in fact far more intensely than it should have been. Glorious and agonizing pain filtered through my body in a way I'd never felt before. It was amazing! However, when the surge had finally finished its course, I was rendered unconscious. Dear Mirra was kind and concerned enough to see to it that my body was once more jolted into life, but the results of my negligence were already manifested. I was left with a considerable amount of damage by the way of electrical burns on my hand, as well as my face, where I assume the current decided to exit. I had been wearing my glasses, and being a metal object, it had seared my face where it touched, and the area around it. So grotesque was the damage left to my body, that my pointed ears had their tips burned away, as well as the cartilage in my nose, which left large and gaping holes where my cavity is. I have to say, that it was certainly an odd sensation to breathe through such large openings. Over the course of the next few days, my hair also had mostly fallen out, leaving my skull covered in thick, scab-like burns. None of that, despite the most gruesome appearance I must've had, really bothered me that terribly much. Except to say- that I was also rendered sightless. My eyes, that don't see that particularly well to begin with, were literally boiled within their sockets. This was quite painful, and although I certainly can handle and enjoy most types of pain, having such afflictions to my eyes was almost... agonizingly unbearable, despite my grand efforts to not reveal such.
    
    This little mishap, of course, was the conclusion to our evening, as I was rendered quite useless at this point. We parted ways, with the Anubian promising to return, even though I haven't heard or seen of him since. Despite my grand magnitude of failure, I quite enjoyed the whole experience. I have found that it gives me an outlet for one of my most shameful vices, and lifts me in better spirits. In fact, for several days after the event took place, even the noise within my head was silenced, save for Dosman, who did an amazing service by keeping me company in my lonesome. Being sightless and so disfigured had limited the activities I could perform, surely. I should also mention that my sweet Zandeln Silinrul sought to medicate my many wounds and provide me with comfort. Even though tending to my flesh was not needed, his company and concern healed my heart, as it usually does, in ways I can not fathom.
    
    My 'Life Sparks', I've found, are not able to heal me of certain inflictions, burns being included. So I had to accept my disfigurement until the supernatural event occured that restores my health. Of course, as always, exactly two weeks from the unfortunate accident that left me mutilated, during a meditation, my body was once more returned to its original and pristine state. I do not know the reason why this happens. But it always does. And, as always, I was left feeling incredibly empty and lost for several days afterwards.
    
    Needless to say, I feel the experience will open some doors for me and my desire to find peace within my tormented mind. I hope that the tall and lanky fellow will seek my company again, and that maybe I could help to alleviate some of his own personal demons in the process.
    
    
    

  • Echoes

    I am a shadowy and unpleasant creature. A cursed and forsaken race of elf, who were excommunicated deep underground. I am a Drow. My kind are inherently evil, capable of endless cruelty, even to one another. More so, I should mention, we are especially cruel to one another. My childhood, adolescence, and early adult life was spent in this environment before I escaped to what I call 'The Surface'. Perhaps later in life I will find the heart to chronicle my many experiences in such a hostile and rancorous world. But for now, there is a different aim to my pressing of a quill to parchment in such a revealing and intimate way.
    
    I am an extremely closed and apathetic being. I make it a game to hide behind masks to paint a distorted image of myself to others, delighting in their ignorance to otherwise. Akin to gazing into a deformed mirror, the illusion of myself that is seen by others is so warped and unreadable, that the many fractures of my personality are often times distorted into something completely different that none are the wiser for. I can be many things. Charming, distasteful, rude, adoring, intimidating, promiscuous, unsettling, invasive..... my many masks are endless. I've been running from who I really am for so long, that I'm afraid my true self will get lost and left behind if I do not make an effort to help myself soon.
    
    And here I arrive at the true purpose for filling the blank pages of this leather-bound book with my musings, rants, and insanity... As of late, I have found within myself the actual desire to enjoy my life more. After so much time spent hiding in a dark corner like the little spider I am, I have begun to wonder just what the more enjoyable aspects of existence has to offer. Surely I have experienced so very little of them compared to most. To be honest, previously, I didn't particularly care how truly empty and mechanized my being was. However, recently I have been exposed to some of the most beautiful aspects of sentient life I have ever seen. I am thoroughly aware that perhaps I have only discovered the very tip of the mountain that is emotional satisfaction. But in actuality, this very fact has me fascinated and eager to reveal more.
    
    In an effort to make myself more susceptible to experiencing this new aspect of life that I've stumbled upon, I have decided to actively try and quiet, or better yet, silence the many voices that converse within my mind on a near-constant basis. Yes, it is undeniably true- My head runs rampant with thoughts and opinions that I feel are often not my own. I don't really have a personal term for this phenomenon occurring within my brain, for it has been made apparent that most others do not experience this same state of being as I. But if I were to coin it with a short and descriptive statement, I would say that; it is the condition of always having company, yet being absolutely and positively forever alone.
    
    There are many distinct and vastly differing personalities within my countenance. Some I don't mind as much as others, and some are not as actively present as much as others. I also find it strangely odd that I do not know any of their names, and that only one of them seems to have a preference for what alias they are given. I am hoping that describing their natures on paper might help me to understand them better, and maybe even to discern why they are even there. Some of them have been within me for hundreds of years, and others are significantly newer. I shall now attempt to describe and detail them all to the best of my ability.
    
    The Boy - I am listing this presence first because, as far as I can remember, he was the first to invade my thoughts. He is also the most hauntingly disturbing to listen to, to be honest. He is a boy of a tender age, not more than perhaps five or six. In the many years he's manifested inside me, he has never once- ever, said a single word. Instead, he only cries and sobs. His mourning ranges anything from shy sniffles, to lofty and intense screams of anguish. I notice he makes himself known more often than not, when I am having feelings of regret or anxiety. He disturbs me greatly, for surely knowing of him for so very long and to never have heard him speak a single word- is truly unsettling.
    
    The Thrill - This side of my mind is strangely alarming to me because I have never known something to be so incredibly enthralled by destruction and danger as he. He is a man, his age unknown really, but if I had to guess, someone to be in the prime of their life. When he makes himself known to me, he is always loud and boisterous. He is extremely assertive and expertly crafty in being convincing of persuading me to do what he wants. He presents to me, such a strong argument for his sadistic and brash desires, that often times I find myself caving to his will. He is very much the reason for most of the things I do that end up in the harming of others, and the destruction of myself. He delights in his ability to easily sway me, laughing at my shortcomings and failures as if he knew they would be the eventual result of his taunting all along.
    
    Mistress - Of all the many personalities in my mind, this being is the only one that insists I have a name for her. And yes, she is also the only female of the group. She is an older woman. Her projection of sound is shrill, cruel, and cold. Based on her voice and presence, I can't help but picture her as being a frail and thin little thing. As fragile as her body might be, her personality and shrewdness make up for whatever her form lacks in providing. She is demeaning. She is always the first voice to call out in my head when I am in distress. She obviously thinks very little of me, which has often had me wondering why she enjoys dwelling inside my head so much. Out of all the voices, hers is the one I despise the most. Nothing she ever says is positive in any way. And she delights in the discomfort it brings me by her calling me 'Little Light'. In her presence, I feel small and insignificant.
    
    The Pessimist- This man... or creature... (I'm actually not entirely sure what they are, they're rather androgynous about themselves.) Is one of the most lonely and self-depleting beings I've ever stumbled upon, even outside of my head. He wants absolutely nothing more than to be accepted, cherished, loved, and to belong to someone. Yet, he constantly expresses his absolute disdain for himself. He is always quick to belittle his nature, and to project his intense thoughts of self-hatred. I would have cause to wonder, if he dislikes himself so very much, why he hasn't ended his life- if it weren't for the fact that he is an ephemeral being and incapable of such. I also find it odd, that when he speaks of himself in a belittling way, that he always uses the term 'we', as if trying to include me with his self-loathing. Sometimes I can't help but feel that perhaps he's also implying that I should either be feeling as he does, or that I already do...
    
    The Demon - This strange being began to appear inside my head not long after I took on the paragon path of Life Stealer and was accepted in the Grand Council. So very obviously a demonic figure, his voice is other worldly and unbelievably confident. He is almost... amusing, in that he often makes rather sarcastic comments about the awkward situations of my life I find myself in. He has a deep and intimidating, wild cackle of a laugh that manages to further instigate my current state of being at whatever time he makes himself known. He often also collaborates with The Thrill to attempt and push me into doing idiotic and dangerous things. However a sadistic and arrogant creature he might be, I actually don't mind him nearly as much as I do some others. He's so believable in his demonic fury, that sometimes I ponder if he really is just a part of my thoughts, or perhaps an actual entity that exists.
    
    Dosman - By far, the newest presence in my head. In fact, he's only made himself known very recently. Additionally, he has only appeared a handful of times. It is odd to say, but I actually greatly enjoy when he arrives. His voice is wise and soft. It has a lulling tone to it that I am absolutely entrapped by. When he speaks to me, amazingly, all the other voices give him respect and silence themselves. He gives me words of encouragement, telling me positive things that uplift me and make me feel strangely... safe. I delight in his presence, and is the only one of the voices I've thought to give a term of endearment to. Dosman, which means 'gentle' in Undercommon. He seems to like the name, or at least does not mind it. I wish he would come around more often. But honestly, he only ever displays himself when I am feeling content and at peace, which admittedly is not very often at all.
    
    As I previously noted, these invisible faces inside my head are rather dynamic from one another, even though the bulk of them are quite toxic and distracting to my mind. I smoke cigarettes for this reason. Despite having inhaled nicotine for hundreds of years, I still have not adapted to the little 'buzz' it gives me, and therefor serves quite well to placate the lot of the chatty group. The effects of nicotine on me are considerably more mild than most other drugs and liquor. This is the reason for my preference to it.
    
    Surely I have rambled on enough about the conflict that's been going on in my head for centuries. But even so... I can't help but wonder if having done so is a help or a hindrance. I shall have to think on this in my daily trance later...