Needless to say, being taken advantage of by your own father (who quite literally created you to be... "appealing" in the first place) does things to the mind of a child. Terrible, unbearable things. Without the safe barrier that Nan's mind developed for himself in the current timeline (in the form of Dissociative Identity Disorder), protecting him from the painful memories he repressed... The Nam Timeline's Nan experienced quite a bit of agony and struggle at a young age. Forced to deal with his pain head-on and being provided no real help or coping skills, he only descended further and further into depression, self-loathing, shame... And bitter, bitter hatred of the world that allowed this to happen. [WIP]
Despite his intimidating and strange appearance, The Holy King is painfully bashful. He's just good enough at hiding it to newcomers that no one can really see that in him. Outwardly, just a look from this man is enough to convince most visitors that it is time for them to leave, if they want to survive. His environment feeds into his own behavior in a sense - the darkness, the stained glass windows and the eyes everywhere you can look.
Some people ask him why he is here. What happened here? They can feel the evil in the air. This is not a house of God.
Those people are told a story.
A strange fairytale, about Prince Rapunzel and the demon haunting his dreams, the way that - doesn't a particularly strong wind always sound like screaming? The unbridled terror of walking into a dark kitchen alone at night, hearing that deep, shaky breathing just behind the wall, those 15 seconds you've got to make it back to your room safely, and a door that never locks. So many late-night conversations with his hand on your thigh, creeping inward and upwa--
Oh. You thought you could run away.
The Holy King has some level of control over the stone in his cathedral, and its most frequent use is building walls from the floor to keep people away from his shrine... Or gates to keep people inside. For some reason, Nan's talent with manipulating plantlife is not present in The Holy King. Whenever he tries to conjure the flora his host has no trouble with, all he can produce is dead, brown plants.
The Place I'm Still Coming Up With A Cool Title For is a tall cathedral lined with dark pews near its entrance, and whose stained glass windows show flashes of lightning and the deep grey of a rainy night sky behind all their strange depictions of boys knelt before monsters and the faces of crying children. There is a shrine lined with candles, photographs and flowers in the spot at the back of the cathedral, where a preacher would normally stand. That is normally where The Holy King can be found if he has found the courage to step out of the shadows tonight. But normally, you wouldn't know he was there if he didn't want you to know. He blends in so well with the shadows in his hemmed black mourning gown, and his bright orange eye seems right at home with all its brothers on the walls... What? Were those there this whole time? They're all staring straight at you, the air swells with the sound of a deep hum, like a choir of men are getting ready to sing... This is bad. You get the feeling you should leave this place.
The Martyr Edit