WARNING // If you are averse to pain, gore, and/or cruelty, please turn back now. This character delights in the infliction of all of the above, and is neither mentally stable nor bound by anything remotely resembling typical human morality.
Furthermore, Heiden's player will not curb or subdue his behavior for the sake of a partner; such a thing would involve playing him against his nature. Approach at your own peril.
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Introduction.
A crisp white lab coat, buttoned halfway down. Thin, square glasses, crystal-clear like the surface of a tranquil lake. One might see them and the word 'professional' might come to mind, the term 'scientist' or 'doctor'. And indeed, Ansell Heiden could be called any of these things at a glance.
And then the eyes wander, squint to narrow, glimmering slits... scrutinizing him. The coat isn't quite as clean as they had first assumed, blossoms of soft crimson draining down its pale exterior in places, yellowed ichor tainting ivory along the seams, just faint enough to escape a passing glance. Then the gaze filters up and the consciousness wonders why someone would wear a pair of glasses when they only have one eye, and how a so-called professional could perform his work at an acceptable level with such a handicap.
Ah, "so-called". Embarrassing, isn't it, how one moment the mind was convinced of how upstanding he was... and the next, that belief had melted into a sort of grotesque disapproval. Perhaps there's no reason to blame it; thick, wavy auburn hair, clean but beyond untidy and hanging over slouched shoulders, is hardly the thing a
real doctor should go about wearing on his head. Wouldn't it get in the way of his work?
Yet he grins, caring not what your opinion of him might be, and makes certain to reveal that every last tooth in his mouth is razor-sharp and glittering... and you start to realize that he doesn't look very human at all.
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Story.
The Heidens, to put it lightly, were blessed with far more than the typical speckling of knowledge that most men possess. Renowned and perhaps even infamous throughout their homeland as the pinnacle of brilliance, their line continued to marry into wealth and intellect, turning out the cream of the crop when it came to mental prowess. So successful were the Heidens that jealous runner-ups and disbelievers often believed the family to be guilty of conspiring with the government, considering how each passing generation continually brought fortune into their open arms.
Ansell grew up no differently. Though he was born into wealth, the boy found himself rarely, if ever, doted on; his parents were copiously absent almost every waking hour, busied by the constant toil of fattening their already-overflowing wallets and enhancing their reputations. Subject to an empty life of luxury, the young prodigy of a boy quickly tired of his everyday routine, largely disinterested in the rigid schooling he was provided at hands of private tutors. One rainy Thursday afternoon he slipped off to the library, plucking a thick volume from the lowermost shelf and settling down in his father's velvet armchair to read. The book brimmed with the teachings of Darwinism, and it was through those pages that Ansell Heiden learned to think for himself.
He was still a genius, mind you; his parents had told him that more than enough times. Yet he didn't
want to follow the same tedious path as his forefathers, paving through society but never truly reaching any sort of finality or conclusion. He craved to set his own standards rather than striving towards the same, damnable goals that every Heiden before him had reached for and grasped with the utmost ease. What that one book taught him was that only the best should be allowed to survive, only the best should come out of the ring victorious... and believe it or not, being bred at the top of the ladder wouldn't always save you in the end.
The boy grew, went to college, and earned his doctorate. Twelve years of intense study kept him where his name was expected to be, but Ansell was still far from satisfied with himself. Everywhere he went, his glazed olive eyes drank in the sight of useless, weak, pitiful people, the sorts of souls who merely took up precious space on the earth and accomplished nothing more. The longer he lived, the more people he began to lump in with the general populace, categorizing the vast majority of his own species as worthless, vile, infirm-- until the revelation dawned on Ansell that there were simply too many human beings on this earth who flat-out didn't deserve to live. They weren't
fit to, and it made his stomach churn in protest to the beating of their hearts. His precious Darwinism wasn't applying to his own race as it rightfully should. Idiocy ran rampant in the streets.
And thus, the experiments began.
At first it was a little poking, a few incisions in front of a mirror. He was always careful, always methodical, and yet there seemed to be incomparable room for error. Did he cut himself too deep? The flow of blood made his breath come quick, his cheeks flush dark ruby as if attempting to match it in hue. Test after test after test went by, every one using himself as the subject-- because, after all, who else
deserved to be the savior of the human race but he? He was the finest that society had to offer, the only one who truly saw the world for what it was. A few losses were inevitable; his right eye was gouged halfway out as he attempted to strengthen his own vision through dubious methods of his own devising. But in time, and with a few groundbreaking successes, his left compensated beautifully; with a little more "editing", Ansell found himself seeing better than he ever had. It was simply one more sign that he was winning, that his abilities made him superior to the remainder of his species.
Perfect.
Indeed, he engrossed himself so deeply in his work that whispers flitted to and fro among the populace, curious inquiries regarding his location and activities. His countenance was rarely ever seen, a strange thing for a Heiden... and when he was glimpsed, his appearance was in tatters. Could he be a failure, the first in years to disappoint his lineage? Was the family's firm grip on leadership drawing to a close? The most conclusive answer came the same night Ansell arrived home to his manor for the first time in years, the door creaking open so that his older brother Niklaus could stutter forth a cheerful but unsteady greeting. Competition between them had been fierce up until the time of Ansell's disappearance; the opinion of the public seemed to indicate that the younger son could very well be a lost cause, leaving everyone to think that Niklaus was the superior intellect.
Oh, how wrong they were... though whether or not anyone knew the error of their beliefs mattered not. For while Ansell was glimpsed on and off, his countenance growing progressively more manic, his elder brother was denied the privilege of ever seeing the light of day again.
"Only the strong survive... and the weak are consumed by the strong. Such is life, the way of things. Humans should not be any exception. My brother... well. Heh. He was weaker than me..."
Murders piled up, and suspicion inevitably fell upon him in due time thanks to the nature of his work and the shady, defensive manner in which he guarded it. The police sought to track him down, to find substantial proof of his alleged crimes, chasing down hint after hint of his trail-- but by the time they stumbled across what was left of his makeshift laboratory, there was nothing left to be found. Dr. Ansell Heiden had vanished without a trace, the evidence of his grisly crimes hidden amongst the ruins but his visage nowhere to be found. No one ever saw him again. His disappearance was, indeed, quite intentional; he found that his self-imposed duty to regulate Earth was too insufferable, too wretched, and even he was not invincible when overcome by the masses. He loathed to admit it, of course. But it was his pride or his life, and
he certainly couldn't
die.
Character.
Dr. Ansell Heiden is insane. There is quite literally no denying it; his ridiculous, radical outlook on life, existence, and the world as we know it could only be labeled as that of a man who is clearly ill of mind. To make matters worse, it is impossible to separate him from his delusions of grandeur; even the most well-plotted and rational argument will simply be met with a snappy retort and a madman's unstable chuckle, deriding you for even attempting to persuade him. This stubborn attachment to his personal tenets is actually quite the terrifying trait, as it provides Heiden with all the motivation and willpower he needs to regularly carry out monstrous acts without a scrap of remorse or hesitation.
Indeed, the only emotions the doctor experiences when committing the murder of a "lesser" being are sadistic delight and utter satisfaction. He believes wholeheartedly that it is his sworn duty to weed the population, to indefinitely remove any unfortunate soul from the gene pool that he finds unworthy of existence. How does he dictate who to remove, you ask? It's horrifically simple, really: If he is able to successfully capture or incapacitate you, you have failed his test and are effectively marked for death, as he has proven that you are an inferior specimen to himself.
There is no pattern or predictability to his actions. When he feels compelled, Heiden will leave his laboratory and attempt to pluck up what is often the first living creature he lays eyes on, using whatever tactics or means are necessary to assure that he can subdue them. If they are too large or formidable to carry back to his lab for experimentation or torture, he will often slay them on the spot... but if they are unlucky enough to be "portable", they will invariably be carted indoors and likely subjected to at least one unsavory test. This may be as simple as shrinking the victim down to a more edible size or as complex and nightmarish as strapping them to a table and gutting them open to mess around with their organs, but all possibilities guarantee his captive's death. After all, how else will he remove them from existence in order to further his Darwinian dream?
Perhaps as a result of his obvious lack of a stable consciousness, Heiden is rarely seen stony-faced. He is notoriously easy to amuse; the panicked reactions and desperate pleas of his targets regularly bring a fang-riddled grin to his lips, as he finds their constant streams of excuses hilariously easy to combat with
his brand of logic. No one has ever managed to argue their way out of his terms, and he will happily turn a deaf ear to those who persist in trying... that, or he will find a more grotesque means by which to silence their tongue-flapping.
He especially relishes teasing and mocking his "patients", informing them plainly of the reason they are in his laboratory and how they have completely and abysmally failed to prove their worth as living creatures, that they had their chance (regardless of whether they even had the opportunity to see him coming or not!) and should accept his opinion that death is all they deserve for their incompetence. To Heiden, it is not an opinion-- it is a fact, and the ones who disagree with it?
They are the insane ones.
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Character played by
Ceru. Fantastic artwork courtesy of
Sheela. Check out her gallery!
