Bartimaeus of Uruk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likesfootnotes) wrote2016-01-20 11:32 am
likesfootnotes) wrote2016-01-20 11:32 am
Entry tags:
He's 5,010 years of sacrasm served fresh out of the pentacle
Name: Alex, but regrettably not of X-Men: First Class fame
Age: Two and nine, in succession and not addition
Journal:reignsdown (personal), likesfootnotes (character)
Contact: reignsdown (ALL THE THINGS, HOORAY)
1. Character's Name: Bartimaeus of Uruk
2. Fandom: The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud (novels)
3. Time Frame: The point where Nathaniel dismisses Bartimaeus at the end of the first book (The Amulet of Samarkand)
4. Age: Five-thousand-and-ten, in the least; that marked the first time Bartimaeus's essence had identity and, therefore, he had unique existence.
5. Background:
The world that you know is not the world as Bartimaeus knows it. There are many likenesses, certainly, from e-mail to aeroplanes, but the differences begin at the societal spectrum (his is an oligarchy), stretch through to Britain retaining the greatest strength in the European Zone, and end in magic.
That's right, magic.
Oh, and the associated magicians that wield it.
They are the ruling class in this world and represent the combined political and financial power of the world, whether they reside in London, the Americas, or some other country from the manner scattered about the globe. To get anywhere in life, you must either be a magician - which requires being 'purchased' by parents in early childhood and raised without name in the arts of magic; they really take the idea of a broken home and multiply it - or to be favoured by one. To be anything less is to be a commoner and worth neither the time of day nor the effort of acknowledgement by these powerful figures.
However, to get anywhere as a magician, you need a spirit. They are beings of the Other Place - a plane connected to ours only by the chains through which a magician may extract a being by a process known as summoning. This is an entirely involuntary process, let me assure you, for only a fool would happily dive onto Earth at the first call of their name in an incantation (names being truly important; a spirit can only be summoned if the magician first knows their name; the same as a spirit can only harm their magician if they are in possession of their birth name - you begin to see why one goes nameless as an apprentice).
All magic in this world is truly done by the spirits, who are armed with spells, shapes, and the power to fuel both aplenty. Magicians summon each into pentacles and bind them to tasks, using their rare form of human magic (spells of punishment that work only on the summoned; again, unless they happen to know your birth name and fling it right back at you via that weakness) to encourage compliance. Seeing as the very best that they do is stinging pain and the worst is complete destruction of essence (think life's blood), most spirits reluctantly do as they are told and flee back to the comforts of the Other Place as soon as dismissal allows.
Bartimaeus would have you know that this is slavery, no two ways about it, and he has only once in five thousand years found a human that truly would stand up for his rights in the pentacle. The rest, however, have been content to summon him time and again, generally for increasingly complex tasks befitting a spirit of his level.
This is because he is a djinni of the fourth level - a spirit of air and fire ranked quite well within his class. There are five commonly summoned entities (imps being the weakest, then foliots, djinn, afrits, with marids topping the standard scale), and he sits comfortably in the middle. Very flexible and adaptable, he is a difficult sort to control and generally expects to be summoned only by the more experienced magicians.
That would be why he was surprised when a young Egyptian magician of not more than fourteen took to summoning him. At this point, Bartimaeus had spent centuries being summoned for the most ridiculous tasks (in his opinion; the worst being the time he was ordered to make an iced dessert in the middle of the desert) and so expected the same of this Ptolemy kid. Only, the boy wanted to talk to him and not have him run about on silly quests to better his standing as a magician. Here was a human, genuinely interested in the spirits that he summoned.
Wow, what a concept.
Bartimaeus suffered under what became affection for this boy, cemented by the stints of freedom and the open-mindedness displayed. And, quite unbecoming of a spirit, when Ptolemy devised a reverse summon so that he could visit the Other Place, Bartimaeus was the one that waited for him and pulled him through the gate to experience that. This built between them a bond beyond any scope he had yet known and at the end, when Ptolemy was under attack and the odds impossible; Bartimaeus was ready to give up his life and essence to protect him.
Alas, Ptolemy dismissed him instead and Bartimaeus returned to the grind of being summoned, mistreated, and generally being full of sarcasm for the many magicians that went on to prove that a diamond in the rough is just that. A single diamond in an awful lot of rough.
Fast forward to the presumed present and a Bartimaeus summoned by a stripling of a magician by the birth name Nathaniel (which, much to the boy's chagrin, this djinni he summoned learned - giving him great protection against all manner of magical punishment). Reminiscent in ability to Ptolemy, Nathaniel did his level best to embody every negative trait of magicians in their first interactions, but Bartimaeus did the work tasked to him (under threat of Indefinite Confinement in a tin lined with rosemary, inducing of rashes in a spirit at the best of times; the only thing worse would have been to use a box made of essence-killing silver).
All said and done, the kid turned out not that bad - there's potential there for goodness to come out of this magician. However, having jointly saved the British government, in the process bringing Nathaniel into the favour of the very worst magicians that one could be influenced by, he's not bothering to hope.
6. Personality:
Modesty is the very hallmark of a djinni like Bartimaeus, who would never dream of lauding his virtues, numerous accomplishments, and generally incredible nature over the multitudes of lesser beings that have no hope of ever attaining the brand of perfection trademarked to him. No, he would not dream of boasting that he had rebuilt the walls of Uruk, Karnak, and Prague; watched over Old Zimbabwe till the stones fell and the jackals fed on its people; or spoken with Solomon long before your ancestors were a sparkle in their ancestor's eyes. Nor would he proclaim that the titles Sakhk al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty, and the Serpent of Silver Plumes were his to claim, and most definitely not for the great many accomplishments he had made in the great many and terrible forms he had taken.
No, Bartimaeus would not do so, for he is a spirit most modest and meek.
There is also the matter of his possessing silver tongue, only with markedly less of the poisonous metal attributed to it. Bartimaeus likes to speak and there is no better topic of discussion than his conquests, abilities, or anything that might cast him in the better light. Quite the pompous braggart; it is of his opinion that if he's been dragged out and about, he might as well make the event colossal in the ears of others. Now, magicians brag about their accomplishments, regardless of having an audience or not, but Bartimaeus employs particular panache in this field. All words, inevitably, lead back to his formidable glory, be it through comparison, example, or simple statement.
When self-aggrandising ceases to be an option, he will typically shift to complaints about magicians, his summoning, and the tasks laid out to him. There is no task good enough to bear his admiration, though once he has completed it with his standard flair? Expect to hear about it for the rest of eternity. Though you can expect him to (mostly) shut whatever form his trap has taken when the matter of silence means his life or death, because he rather likes the former.
You see, one does not just reach five thousand years of persistent summoning on merely 'squeaking by'. Bartimaeus is a survivor who has learned well to look out for himself before others, be it for various reasons. When serving with spirits of similar level? They can take care of themselves and, if they cannot, then all the failure can go to them. When serving with spirits of lower level (orFaquarl those he simply does not favour)? The world is a better place if they are snuffed out like so many candles - wait, it's light bulbs now, right? The sentiment remains. When serving directly with his magician? There's no way he can fulfill the terms of his binding if he's dead.
Let's face it, he likes life and prefers everyone else (particularly magicians) to face their sunset before he shall. Self-sacrificing acts are the very things he prefers not to indulge in and, when they do occur, his life is better served when the saved party fails to remember who exactly their saviour was. He's a djinni, sworn by summoning to dislike magicians, and he would certainly never be caughtdead fashionably protecting one (with the exception of Ptolemy, and he'll eat any spirit that dares tease him about that).
To survive the day to day, Bartimaeus has to abide by a code of honour that makes honour relatively optional. Some might call it conniving or duplicitous, but he would argue it's self-interest at worst. Whether it involves calling down a Detonation to leave a dubiously and temporarily allied rival behind to busy their pursuers or using force against a child to save his own skin, he's capable of doing it. Where his skin is not on the line, you may see a more vaunted display of moral code.
Where that happens, don't bother bringing it up the next day - rather, he'd advise most not to get in a verbal sparring match with him. A battle of wits requires both sides to be armed and Bartimaeus considers himself the master of that armoury. Sharp and quick-witted, he generally has a sarcastic remark, if nothing else, when a statement or situation bears it. There are those that find it humorous and others who find it grating - he finds it quaint, truly.
And should he not have a sharp remark, he may have some way to turn your words back on you, for he is masterful at twisting and misinterpreting what is said until it suits him. This is earned from experience, for there remains that regrettable part of his existence where he is summoned and bound to the will of a magician, forced to set out on tasks that shall earn him ridicule (have you ever tried to make ice cream in the desert?) for centuries to come. Bartimaeus would love to tell each magician to stuff it when they come incanting, but he must obey or face obliteration - he's not about die because some silly magician wants cologne made from the quills of a sea creature in the deepest trench of the ocean, thanks; he has some pride about how he'll go. That does not mean he must fulfill their requests to the intent, only to the letter. Ask him for an extra virgin to sacrifice? He'll bring home a bottle of Extra Virgin Olive Oil and proceed to lecture you about the moral depravity of sacrificing such an innocent product for your lecherous means. The art of interpretation runs strong in this one and, depending on his mood, he may take even the most simple request to the literal definition.
That said, when stripped of interpretation and having had the points laid out clearly, he will serve to the best of his ability. When your essence is on the line, you tend to dedicate that extra oomph to the task. There's nothing heroic about it, though he'll take or make kudos about his involvement once the dust has settled and his task fulfilled. This reflection of dedication does extend to those that he cares about, but as the list is remarkably short, he puts little mind to it.
Five thousand years of existence have not served to deliver any particular maturity to Bartimaeus. For all the self-aggrandising and accomplishments, a few sharp words or properly edged threats can deflate him to a petulant spirit sulking in a pentacle. There's bitterness there and he feels it fully earned and sometimes, well, life requires a petty action or two. Did he just fire a Detonation into the ceiling and nearly collapse it on you Faquarl? So sorry aboutthe fact you avoided that.
7. Previous Game Developments: N/A
8. Appearance:
The appearance Bartimaeus takes is limited only to his imagination, for a djinni may take countless forms. There is a certain art to it, where you never mix horns with sweet clover smell, and he is very much an artist. Expect the little nuances in his appearances, from that faint scent of brimstone with a demonic form to the extra millimetre of lash that a pretty girl uses to whittle away the resistance of any many she meets.
Limitless forms do not mean he is without some constants, comprised mostly of airborne creatures, tree dwellers, and animals that move fast. As a being of fire and air, he dislikes anything that hugs to or burrows under the ground. Most commonly, however, he takes the form of an Egyptian boy with brown skin and bright eyes - this is his recollection of Ptolemy and, if he must take form, this is one that pleases him.
Usually, though, he'll take whatever form makes his conversational opponent the most uncomfortable, from eerie likenesses of past loves to creepy renditions of nightmare creatures. Or, if you are crazed serial killer, he'll be your bunny wunny buddy - sorry, were you hoping to intimidate?
9. Abilities:
Djinn rest in the middle of the spirit scale, standing above imps and foliots while standing below afrits and marids. They have the ability to see up to the seventh plane (think layers of power overlaid on the world; humans can see the first, cats up to the second, and spirits a varying amount) and alter their shapes on planes one through to that seventh. Most come deftly equipped with the standard run of spells (Detonations, Convulsions, Fluxes, Infernos, and Shields being the most common; they are as simple and effective as their names denote) that can be unleashed at a magician's command.
Bartimaeus is no exception - excepting the part where he is. Introduction into the Keep environment has reduced his great powers to the point where a Detonation meant to demolish a building will come off with the barest puff of smoke and the sound of a wet firecracker sizzling out. His Shields are more like running through a single-layer of cling wrap. His Infernos might start a fire - in the midst of a drought.
It'll be demeaning, disheartening, and downright embarrassing for him to be stripped of that. Perhaps this is why he has retained (per discussion with mods) the majority of his shifting abilities. There remain limits, such as nothing larger than a single story, per character sizing, but he has the ability to shift twenty-four times per day. Anything more than that and the recharge rules will apply, with the hope that he chose something dignified for the shape he'll be stuck in.
Beyond being the 'give, behind the 'take' from his powers, the ability to frequently shift will alleviate the discomfort associated with existence. Spirits are not natural to physical forms and to exist is to first experience that discomfort, with increasing ache. Shifting to a new shape reduces this burden and, overall, makes a spirit slightly less cranky.
10. Languages:
Where language has touched the tongue of man in the last five thousand years, Bartimaeus has known it (though he must admit, this Klingon language popular in the 90s currently evades him). Repeated summonings and heroic trials that sent him across the globe times beyond counting exposed him to the multitudes of languages and dialects, all of which he acquired to some degree of aptitude. There are gaps here and there, when a century or two passed without being summoned, and he may not have the best grasp of current slang, but he can get his point across with no small degree of eloquence. When his attention wanders, so does his language; at times, he will switch to a different language or speak in an amalgamation of them - this most often around spirits of his class or age, for they do the same.
11. Items: Only his magnificent, magnanimous, and masterful presence.
12. Weapons: Bartimaeus is a djinni, malleable in form and spells. Why carry a weapon when you can turn into a crocodile and eat the offending opponent?
13. Writing sample - Third Person Prose:
All in a djinni's work.
Bartimaeus likened the sentiment to that as the dismissal took effect and the hooks which persistently held him to the human plane released their hold. Those tasks which had been assigned to him were completed - with flair and modesty, no less. London would speak for years about the djinni that bravely took on the might of Ramuthra single-handedly, while also combatting the likes of Jabor the Insatiable. They might also speak of how he stealthily evaded Faquarl the Insufferable, but it would be dwarfed by the magnitude of saving the British parliament and seeing to it that a young boy survived to receive the gratitude of the human race in his stead (nothing short of absolutely nothing could convince him to stay and be honoured, especially as those foppish magicians would think it all the boy's work and none of his own when he gave level thought to it).
All in a djinni's work indeed, done under duress and fashionably well.
But now, that did not matter.
The Other Place beckoned to him, though, really, it need not. Who would want to stay in existence, dealing with that perpetual princess-and-the-pea syndrome where the ache persisted, but could not be alleviated regardless of how many times he shifted. Leave that to spirits worthy of the punishment! (Faquarl, he reckoned, would be best - pity he hadn't the chance to suggest the name to Natty-boy for the inevitable next time that he summoned a spirit.)
With a whiff of brimstone left behind, he let it take him, ready to rejoin the featureless sea of essence that was his home.
Only, he never made it there.
14. Writing sample - First Person:
[text]
Dear Mr. Mandrake:
There is entirely too much form and substance here. Where's that blissful rest you promised? You'll give my essence an ulcer with all this existing you've subjected me to.
This is almost the most pathetic dismissal I've ever had the displeasure of enduring. 1 I must admit that I expected better of you after that unfortunately ironclad summoning and those meagre displays of skill that you displayed.
Still, what can you expect from a half-pint magician overflowing with ego after single-handedly saving the British government from certain annihilation? 2 I admit, I'm surprised that your head hasn't exploded yet from all the praise. Do be certain to record it for posterity when it does.
Admittedly, this beats a rosemary-lined tin at the bottom of the Thames. Did you know that small miracles are said to be the hallmark of a mediocre magician? Truly, your greatest achievement shall be managing to summon the immensity of my presence - and this I invite you to never try again.
The next time you decide to subject a spirit to your aspirations, might I suggest Faquarl? He's a good chap, sturdy in essence, and suited to your level. A step down in quality, certainly, but that just proves my point.
Most sincerely not yours,
[Have an X in place of a signature; names are bondage to spirits, so he'll not be freely handing it out just yet.]
1 - The worst, arguably, would be when Frederick Von Mundgeruch dismissed me straight into another magician's pentacle. That didn't work out too well for ol' Freddy. Turns out that this magician had a grudge against him and put me to work Detonating his secret castle, location known only to slaves and spirits, to rubble.
2 - Invariably, that is how it'll go down in the history books as written by the magicians. Between you, me, and anyone that'll listen? A kid never would have managed it without a certain all-powerful, self-effacing djinni on his side.
15. Tattoo:
Quite an inconvenience to an anonymous identity, if you ask him! Bartimaeus is not fond of the tattoo, for it stays with him from form to form. The line of it is reminiscent of Adelbrand's Pentacle, a summoning circle used to keep a spirit bound for multiple orders. He stands on the tattoo as he has stood on the pentacle; it lines the bottom of whatever dominant foot his form tends to have. No matter how he tries, there is no moving it, nor can he imitate the tattoos of the Keep denizens should he take their form.
16. Room Preference: Any location where there is not a magician, if you catch his meaning?
Age: Two and nine, in succession and not addition
Journal:
reignsdown (personal), likesfootnotes (character)Contact: reignsdown (ALL THE THINGS, HOORAY)
1. Character's Name: Bartimaeus of Uruk
2. Fandom: The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud (novels)
3. Time Frame: The point where Nathaniel dismisses Bartimaeus at the end of the first book (The Amulet of Samarkand)
4. Age: Five-thousand-and-ten, in the least; that marked the first time Bartimaeus's essence had identity and, therefore, he had unique existence.
5. Background:
The world that you know is not the world as Bartimaeus knows it. There are many likenesses, certainly, from e-mail to aeroplanes, but the differences begin at the societal spectrum (his is an oligarchy), stretch through to Britain retaining the greatest strength in the European Zone, and end in magic.
That's right, magic.
Oh, and the associated magicians that wield it.
They are the ruling class in this world and represent the combined political and financial power of the world, whether they reside in London, the Americas, or some other country from the manner scattered about the globe. To get anywhere in life, you must either be a magician - which requires being 'purchased' by parents in early childhood and raised without name in the arts of magic; they really take the idea of a broken home and multiply it - or to be favoured by one. To be anything less is to be a commoner and worth neither the time of day nor the effort of acknowledgement by these powerful figures.
However, to get anywhere as a magician, you need a spirit. They are beings of the Other Place - a plane connected to ours only by the chains through which a magician may extract a being by a process known as summoning. This is an entirely involuntary process, let me assure you, for only a fool would happily dive onto Earth at the first call of their name in an incantation (names being truly important; a spirit can only be summoned if the magician first knows their name; the same as a spirit can only harm their magician if they are in possession of their birth name - you begin to see why one goes nameless as an apprentice).
All magic in this world is truly done by the spirits, who are armed with spells, shapes, and the power to fuel both aplenty. Magicians summon each into pentacles and bind them to tasks, using their rare form of human magic (spells of punishment that work only on the summoned; again, unless they happen to know your birth name and fling it right back at you via that weakness) to encourage compliance. Seeing as the very best that they do is stinging pain and the worst is complete destruction of essence (think life's blood), most spirits reluctantly do as they are told and flee back to the comforts of the Other Place as soon as dismissal allows.
Bartimaeus would have you know that this is slavery, no two ways about it, and he has only once in five thousand years found a human that truly would stand up for his rights in the pentacle. The rest, however, have been content to summon him time and again, generally for increasingly complex tasks befitting a spirit of his level.
This is because he is a djinni of the fourth level - a spirit of air and fire ranked quite well within his class. There are five commonly summoned entities (imps being the weakest, then foliots, djinn, afrits, with marids topping the standard scale), and he sits comfortably in the middle. Very flexible and adaptable, he is a difficult sort to control and generally expects to be summoned only by the more experienced magicians.
That would be why he was surprised when a young Egyptian magician of not more than fourteen took to summoning him. At this point, Bartimaeus had spent centuries being summoned for the most ridiculous tasks (in his opinion; the worst being the time he was ordered to make an iced dessert in the middle of the desert) and so expected the same of this Ptolemy kid. Only, the boy wanted to talk to him and not have him run about on silly quests to better his standing as a magician. Here was a human, genuinely interested in the spirits that he summoned.
Wow, what a concept.
Bartimaeus suffered under what became affection for this boy, cemented by the stints of freedom and the open-mindedness displayed. And, quite unbecoming of a spirit, when Ptolemy devised a reverse summon so that he could visit the Other Place, Bartimaeus was the one that waited for him and pulled him through the gate to experience that. This built between them a bond beyond any scope he had yet known and at the end, when Ptolemy was under attack and the odds impossible; Bartimaeus was ready to give up his life and essence to protect him.
Alas, Ptolemy dismissed him instead and Bartimaeus returned to the grind of being summoned, mistreated, and generally being full of sarcasm for the many magicians that went on to prove that a diamond in the rough is just that. A single diamond in an awful lot of rough.
Fast forward to the presumed present and a Bartimaeus summoned by a stripling of a magician by the birth name Nathaniel (which, much to the boy's chagrin, this djinni he summoned learned - giving him great protection against all manner of magical punishment). Reminiscent in ability to Ptolemy, Nathaniel did his level best to embody every negative trait of magicians in their first interactions, but Bartimaeus did the work tasked to him (under threat of Indefinite Confinement in a tin lined with rosemary, inducing of rashes in a spirit at the best of times; the only thing worse would have been to use a box made of essence-killing silver).
All said and done, the kid turned out not that bad - there's potential there for goodness to come out of this magician. However, having jointly saved the British government, in the process bringing Nathaniel into the favour of the very worst magicians that one could be influenced by, he's not bothering to hope.
6. Personality:
Modesty is the very hallmark of a djinni like Bartimaeus, who would never dream of lauding his virtues, numerous accomplishments, and generally incredible nature over the multitudes of lesser beings that have no hope of ever attaining the brand of perfection trademarked to him. No, he would not dream of boasting that he had rebuilt the walls of Uruk, Karnak, and Prague; watched over Old Zimbabwe till the stones fell and the jackals fed on its people; or spoken with Solomon long before your ancestors were a sparkle in their ancestor's eyes. Nor would he proclaim that the titles Sakhk al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty, and the Serpent of Silver Plumes were his to claim, and most definitely not for the great many accomplishments he had made in the great many and terrible forms he had taken.
No, Bartimaeus would not do so, for he is a spirit most modest and meek.
There is also the matter of his possessing silver tongue, only with markedly less of the poisonous metal attributed to it. Bartimaeus likes to speak and there is no better topic of discussion than his conquests, abilities, or anything that might cast him in the better light. Quite the pompous braggart; it is of his opinion that if he's been dragged out and about, he might as well make the event colossal in the ears of others. Now, magicians brag about their accomplishments, regardless of having an audience or not, but Bartimaeus employs particular panache in this field. All words, inevitably, lead back to his formidable glory, be it through comparison, example, or simple statement.
When self-aggrandising ceases to be an option, he will typically shift to complaints about magicians, his summoning, and the tasks laid out to him. There is no task good enough to bear his admiration, though once he has completed it with his standard flair? Expect to hear about it for the rest of eternity. Though you can expect him to (mostly) shut whatever form his trap has taken when the matter of silence means his life or death, because he rather likes the former.
You see, one does not just reach five thousand years of persistent summoning on merely 'squeaking by'. Bartimaeus is a survivor who has learned well to look out for himself before others, be it for various reasons. When serving with spirits of similar level? They can take care of themselves and, if they cannot, then all the failure can go to them. When serving with spirits of lower level (or
Let's face it, he likes life and prefers everyone else (particularly magicians) to face their sunset before he shall. Self-sacrificing acts are the very things he prefers not to indulge in and, when they do occur, his life is better served when the saved party fails to remember who exactly their saviour was. He's a djinni, sworn by summoning to dislike magicians, and he would certainly never be caught
To survive the day to day, Bartimaeus has to abide by a code of honour that makes honour relatively optional. Some might call it conniving or duplicitous, but he would argue it's self-interest at worst. Whether it involves calling down a Detonation to leave a dubiously and temporarily allied rival behind to busy their pursuers or using force against a child to save his own skin, he's capable of doing it. Where his skin is not on the line, you may see a more vaunted display of moral code.
Where that happens, don't bother bringing it up the next day - rather, he'd advise most not to get in a verbal sparring match with him. A battle of wits requires both sides to be armed and Bartimaeus considers himself the master of that armoury. Sharp and quick-witted, he generally has a sarcastic remark, if nothing else, when a statement or situation bears it. There are those that find it humorous and others who find it grating - he finds it quaint, truly.
And should he not have a sharp remark, he may have some way to turn your words back on you, for he is masterful at twisting and misinterpreting what is said until it suits him. This is earned from experience, for there remains that regrettable part of his existence where he is summoned and bound to the will of a magician, forced to set out on tasks that shall earn him ridicule (have you ever tried to make ice cream in the desert?) for centuries to come. Bartimaeus would love to tell each magician to stuff it when they come incanting, but he must obey or face obliteration - he's not about die because some silly magician wants cologne made from the quills of a sea creature in the deepest trench of the ocean, thanks; he has some pride about how he'll go. That does not mean he must fulfill their requests to the intent, only to the letter. Ask him for an extra virgin to sacrifice? He'll bring home a bottle of Extra Virgin Olive Oil and proceed to lecture you about the moral depravity of sacrificing such an innocent product for your lecherous means. The art of interpretation runs strong in this one and, depending on his mood, he may take even the most simple request to the literal definition.
That said, when stripped of interpretation and having had the points laid out clearly, he will serve to the best of his ability. When your essence is on the line, you tend to dedicate that extra oomph to the task. There's nothing heroic about it, though he'll take or make kudos about his involvement once the dust has settled and his task fulfilled. This reflection of dedication does extend to those that he cares about, but as the list is remarkably short, he puts little mind to it.
Five thousand years of existence have not served to deliver any particular maturity to Bartimaeus. For all the self-aggrandising and accomplishments, a few sharp words or properly edged threats can deflate him to a petulant spirit sulking in a pentacle. There's bitterness there and he feels it fully earned and sometimes, well, life requires a petty action or two. Did he just fire a Detonation into the ceiling and nearly collapse it on you Faquarl? So sorry about
7. Previous Game Developments: N/A
8. Appearance:
The appearance Bartimaeus takes is limited only to his imagination, for a djinni may take countless forms. There is a certain art to it, where you never mix horns with sweet clover smell, and he is very much an artist. Expect the little nuances in his appearances, from that faint scent of brimstone with a demonic form to the extra millimetre of lash that a pretty girl uses to whittle away the resistance of any many she meets.
Limitless forms do not mean he is without some constants, comprised mostly of airborne creatures, tree dwellers, and animals that move fast. As a being of fire and air, he dislikes anything that hugs to or burrows under the ground. Most commonly, however, he takes the form of an Egyptian boy with brown skin and bright eyes - this is his recollection of Ptolemy and, if he must take form, this is one that pleases him.
Usually, though, he'll take whatever form makes his conversational opponent the most uncomfortable, from eerie likenesses of past loves to creepy renditions of nightmare creatures. Or, if you are crazed serial killer, he'll be your bunny wunny buddy - sorry, were you hoping to intimidate?
9. Abilities:
Djinn rest in the middle of the spirit scale, standing above imps and foliots while standing below afrits and marids. They have the ability to see up to the seventh plane (think layers of power overlaid on the world; humans can see the first, cats up to the second, and spirits a varying amount) and alter their shapes on planes one through to that seventh. Most come deftly equipped with the standard run of spells (Detonations, Convulsions, Fluxes, Infernos, and Shields being the most common; they are as simple and effective as their names denote) that can be unleashed at a magician's command.
Bartimaeus is no exception - excepting the part where he is. Introduction into the Keep environment has reduced his great powers to the point where a Detonation meant to demolish a building will come off with the barest puff of smoke and the sound of a wet firecracker sizzling out. His Shields are more like running through a single-layer of cling wrap. His Infernos might start a fire - in the midst of a drought.
It'll be demeaning, disheartening, and downright embarrassing for him to be stripped of that. Perhaps this is why he has retained (per discussion with mods) the majority of his shifting abilities. There remain limits, such as nothing larger than a single story, per character sizing, but he has the ability to shift twenty-four times per day. Anything more than that and the recharge rules will apply, with the hope that he chose something dignified for the shape he'll be stuck in.
Beyond being the 'give, behind the 'take' from his powers, the ability to frequently shift will alleviate the discomfort associated with existence. Spirits are not natural to physical forms and to exist is to first experience that discomfort, with increasing ache. Shifting to a new shape reduces this burden and, overall, makes a spirit slightly less cranky.
10. Languages:
Where language has touched the tongue of man in the last five thousand years, Bartimaeus has known it (though he must admit, this Klingon language popular in the 90s currently evades him). Repeated summonings and heroic trials that sent him across the globe times beyond counting exposed him to the multitudes of languages and dialects, all of which he acquired to some degree of aptitude. There are gaps here and there, when a century or two passed without being summoned, and he may not have the best grasp of current slang, but he can get his point across with no small degree of eloquence. When his attention wanders, so does his language; at times, he will switch to a different language or speak in an amalgamation of them - this most often around spirits of his class or age, for they do the same.
11. Items: Only his magnificent, magnanimous, and masterful presence.
12. Weapons: Bartimaeus is a djinni, malleable in form and spells. Why carry a weapon when you can turn into a crocodile and eat the offending opponent?
13. Writing sample - Third Person Prose:
All in a djinni's work.
Bartimaeus likened the sentiment to that as the dismissal took effect and the hooks which persistently held him to the human plane released their hold. Those tasks which had been assigned to him were completed - with flair and modesty, no less. London would speak for years about the djinni that bravely took on the might of Ramuthra single-handedly, while also combatting the likes of Jabor the Insatiable. They might also speak of how he stealthily evaded Faquarl the Insufferable, but it would be dwarfed by the magnitude of saving the British parliament and seeing to it that a young boy survived to receive the gratitude of the human race in his stead (nothing short of absolutely nothing could convince him to stay and be honoured, especially as those foppish magicians would think it all the boy's work and none of his own when he gave level thought to it).
All in a djinni's work indeed, done under duress and fashionably well.
But now, that did not matter.
The Other Place beckoned to him, though, really, it need not. Who would want to stay in existence, dealing with that perpetual princess-and-the-pea syndrome where the ache persisted, but could not be alleviated regardless of how many times he shifted. Leave that to spirits worthy of the punishment! (Faquarl, he reckoned, would be best - pity he hadn't the chance to suggest the name to Natty-boy for the inevitable next time that he summoned a spirit.)
With a whiff of brimstone left behind, he let it take him, ready to rejoin the featureless sea of essence that was his home.
Only, he never made it there.
14. Writing sample - First Person:
[text]
Dear Mr. Mandrake:
There is entirely too much form and substance here. Where's that blissful rest you promised? You'll give my essence an ulcer with all this existing you've subjected me to.
This is almost the most pathetic dismissal I've ever had the displeasure of enduring. 1 I must admit that I expected better of you after that unfortunately ironclad summoning and those meagre displays of skill that you displayed.
Still, what can you expect from a half-pint magician overflowing with ego after single-handedly saving the British government from certain annihilation? 2 I admit, I'm surprised that your head hasn't exploded yet from all the praise. Do be certain to record it for posterity when it does.
Admittedly, this beats a rosemary-lined tin at the bottom of the Thames. Did you know that small miracles are said to be the hallmark of a mediocre magician? Truly, your greatest achievement shall be managing to summon the immensity of my presence - and this I invite you to never try again.
The next time you decide to subject a spirit to your aspirations, might I suggest Faquarl? He's a good chap, sturdy in essence, and suited to your level. A step down in quality, certainly, but that just proves my point.
Most sincerely not yours,
[Have an X in place of a signature; names are bondage to spirits, so he'll not be freely handing it out just yet.]
1 - The worst, arguably, would be when Frederick Von Mundgeruch dismissed me straight into another magician's pentacle. That didn't work out too well for ol' Freddy. Turns out that this magician had a grudge against him and put me to work Detonating his secret castle, location known only to slaves and spirits, to rubble.
2 - Invariably, that is how it'll go down in the history books as written by the magicians. Between you, me, and anyone that'll listen? A kid never would have managed it without a certain all-powerful, self-effacing djinni on his side.
15. Tattoo:
Quite an inconvenience to an anonymous identity, if you ask him! Bartimaeus is not fond of the tattoo, for it stays with him from form to form. The line of it is reminiscent of Adelbrand's Pentacle, a summoning circle used to keep a spirit bound for multiple orders. He stands on the tattoo as he has stood on the pentacle; it lines the bottom of whatever dominant foot his form tends to have. No matter how he tries, there is no moving it, nor can he imitate the tattoos of the Keep denizens should he take their form.
16. Room Preference: Any location where there is not a magician, if you catch his meaning?