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Grand Malvolomaster Arkytrope

Head Sculpt:
UH Man
  • Face-up artist(s):
    Date of acquisition:
    January 2017
    Purchased from Knovak on the MP. Original box and papers.
    Reason for choice:
    Expressive face and wild ears
    Best Points:
    *Incredible face
    *Realistic hands
    *Strong magnetic ears
    Worst Points:
    *Weak poser
    *Uneven yellowing
    *Single-jointed torso
    Ark is my penultimate grail. It took eight years to bring him home. Many many thanks to Knovak!
  • Eyes:
    Eyeco B113 14mm
    Volks Irvin default (Temp)
    Favourite colours:
    Black, Silver/Grey, Brown
    Fashion style(s):
    Leather, bat wing motif, double-breasted coats, large belt buckles, knee-high boots, goggles and captain hats

    Gothic, Steampunk, Fantasy
  • Name story:
    Ark was perfect; I wasn't the first to keep it. But I didn't want to stop there.

    'Arkytrope' was the original name for the character who became Voldrekka. I realized it was a nice extension.
    Character age:
    Old as mold
    Character gender:
    Sexless (Masculine)
    Offsite roleplay:
    This doll's character is available for offsite roleplay.
    Between the fabric of the universe lies a kingdom. And within that kingdom, a wondrous device, created by the king of Fairies himself.

    The Imaginarium.

    It holds the power to grant wishes. Anything you can dream, may be.

    But surely, even such devices have limits.

    All fae of Seelie and Unseelie must hail to their truest monarch: the Grand Malvolomaster. He resides in a land built between dimensions. But Arkytrope is no benevolent ruler. Nor is he cruel. Exactly.

    Arkytrope is not insane. But he'd never say as much. He prefers to leave his subjects to wonder, spending long days locked away inside his chambers, watching the universe through his many two-ended mirrors. He has seen a million potential outcomes on a billion alternate worlds, and each increases his bizarre ambitions. By hand he crafted the Imaginarium, and by whim, it seems, he masters his people. His is the language of jests and riddles, of random fancies and biting philosophies. Host a war meeting? Boring! Everyone is dismissed for lunch. Oh, your queen is dead? Our deepest condolences...have a beetle. I killed it this morning. Good source of protein. Rarely does he finish a thought; at least in a way one might understand.

    Yet for his shortcomings, he is a brilliant, if overbearing, father, and his many daughters adore him. They say the death of his queen is what shattered him. But of this he speaks little. Patient is the hunter who catches his quarry....

    ...Especially when that quarry has drawn fresh blood. Or kidnapped one's daughter.


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