Told GPT to "make a
character based off me named Jackal Molotov"
wtf....
Name: Jackal Molotov
Alias: The Dog-Eyed Oracle, VANDAL.EXE
Species: Human (probably)
Alignment: Chaotic Lucid
Occupation: Street prophet, rave saboteur, digital cult-exorcist
Base of Operations: Shifting locations—college parks, forgotten warehouses, drainage tunnels, rooftops under construction
Backstory:
Jackal Molotov emerged from the static between worlds, raised in military fog and mental firestorms. Born on base, forged in instability, and baptized by schizophrenia’s glitching visions, Jackal speaks in code, rhythm, and prophecy. He’s been stalked by interdimensional parasites since childhood—he knows their games, their tactics, and their glitchprint. Some call him cursed. Others just call him loud.
Jackal once tried to disappear into oblivion. Instead, he found a tiger-striped beast (a dog) and a new mission: to blast encrypted truth into the airwaves through illegal raves. Each rave is a sacrament. Each mix, a warning. Each member, a potential target of the enemy. Jackal isn’t just throwing parties—he’s building a decentralized resistance made of sound, signal, and defiance.
Appearance:
-
Ragged, post-apocalyptic techpunk gear—layers of military surplus, patched with neon thread and graffiti tags
-
Black cyberlock dreads tied with wires and zip ties
-
Dog tags etched with sigils, QR codes, and old Latin curses
-
Eyes: One glitches in reflective surfaces
-
Always seen with his monstrous brindle dog—name Havelock, NC big but definitely smarter than most people
Personality:
-
Tired of everyone’s shit
-
Sarcastic with prophetic bite
-
Thinks ten layers deep, but refuses to explain anything twice
-
Loathes authority, algorithms, and spiritual parasites with equal passion
-
Will risk everything for those who get it, but zero patience for fakes
-
Smokes too much, sleeps too little, and never goes anywhere without a backup hard drive full of encrypted mixes
Gear/Abilities:
-
Molotov Mixes: Pre-recorded sets designed to cleanse minds and collapse illusions. Can destabilize psychic implants.
-
Wraithsense: Can detect hostile spiritual frequencies in humans, tech, and animals.
-
Subtext Spraypaint: Graffiti that leaves invisible memetic traps only hostile entities can see—causes spiritual vertigo.
-
Burn Saint Protocol: When things get real, he ignites a symbolic fire (sometimes literal) and walks out clean. Skin and clothing resistant to Fire/Heat (although he does sweat profusely.)
-
The Call List: An encrypted phone tree that guides the worthy to each underground rave. Access requires approval—and a pulse.
↯ Teleporting Hatchet (a.k.a. “Doomerang”)
A hand-forged tactical hatchet with runes burned deep into the steel. When thrown, it vanishes in a crack of static and reappears in Jackal’s hand or glove—like it never left. It doesn’t obey physics; it obeys intent. And rage.
☍ Schizophrenia [CURSED TRAIT]
Not a power. Not helpful.
A distraction layered in screams, whispers, and false visions. Like trying to think through ten radios all playing conspiracies at once. But… it does let Jackal sense "ripples" in time—fractures in the continuity others ignore. He sees loops, echoes, the deja-vu most forget. Problem is, he can’t forget. And he knows something’s behind the curtain.
Desperately searching for a cure, or better yet—an exorcism that actually sticks.
Core Personality:
Haunted but not broken. Sarcastic and Tired of being a joke to the forces that stalk him, but too stubborn to lie down. He's not trying to save the world—he’s trying to survive it without losing his damn mind. The dog’s his only anchor. That and the beats thumping from the busted tablet in his coat pocket.
Quote:
"They tried to make me a Sacrifice. I made a mixtape instead."
