Fantasy Town of Somnia - Curse of Will O’ Wisp: Characters

[SilverBlack]

CHARACTER SHEET

Name:

Age:

Appearance: (Anime or semi-realistic picture preferred, unless your pre-made OC already uses a realistic picture, pure description is fine.)

Gender:

Sexuality: (optional, it’s just always been part of the list when I work on my sheet so I feel weird taking it off)

Species/Occupation: (Human? Witch/wizards? Vampires? Cyborg? Elf? Etc etc.)

Personality:

Character Background/What Happened: (You don’t have to tell us his/her whole life story if you don’t want to—even though I love to read it, character’s past is the best for me—but please at least give a brief summary or idea of why they would sink into the rock bottom of life as to be trapped in this world, a brief ‘What Happened?’ If you absolutely want to keep it a secret from the rest of the roleplayers, I understand. Please state so if that’s true—however, you should still give us some ideas of your character’s basic background story. Who is he/she? With that said, please at least has minimum 2 paragraphs for this section, the more the better, I don’t mind essays.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers: (Please don’t be too OP!)

Likes:

Dislikes:

Others: (Any specialties or extra information you want us to know about your characters?)

Is that it? Let me know if I miss something. *_*

 

[Donut Fret]

CHARACTER SHEET

Name: Alex Schnitzel

Age: 33

Appearance:

Gender: Male

Species/Occupation: Human/Company Mail Room Excel Organizer

Personality: Shy and meek, he's not one to approach anyone. Most say his self esteem is low enough to win any limbo competition. However, underneath it all lies a hard work ethic. Not once did he miss a chicken wings special from his favorite restaurant. He's also quite the lady's man, or well mostly to his mother. Anyways, he respects his peers and elders. Never one to be eccentric, he often follows a routine. Most importantly, his smile, though sometimes fake, never dims in public, when approached by others.

Character Background/What Happened: Throughout all of his school years, Alex Schnitzel faced the wrath of his peers for his weight. Numerous names hung over him, like his excessive belly fat. Lard ass, fatty, cheese eater, plump dump, and many more names traumatized his soul. That's why he committed to a diet and exercise regimen, after the love of his life rejected his sorry face for being fat. She was a beauty, that Cassandra, he always knew her golden locks entangled his very essence in the sun, and like any other sunburn, it stung. Either way, it hurt.

Pumping iron on the daily, certainly led to formidable growth in his biceps, but soggy fat trumped recent musculature growth. He might as well quit his day job, and become a dairy cow, unless, mad fat disease. Maybe some part of him allowed the insanity to take over. After all, he ate enough pork buns to destroy any cholesterol balance. When he was born, his mom thought twins, but it was worse; three mouths to feed. On the bright side, it was only one body.

Thoughts to end the churning disappointment that rattled in his brain provided no comfort. Therefore, scars showed themselves prominently, in vertical and horizontal numerical patterns. He attempted to count to five, but stopped short of four. He wanted it go away, the pain that clung, like the weight that shortened his spine. From his perspective, no one loved him, despite his dear old mother and father sending him his favorite chicken wings every Christmas.

Work was no better. He clacked away at a desk job, and the huffing, it made his computer sweat. He wasn't a secretary, but he did secretarial work for the mail room. Rather than delivering mail, his job was to organize all the mail in a tedium excel format. Five years into the future, he originally saw himself living the life, but now those five years turned to crunching numbers over lousy mail. Someone had to do it, and his coworkers respected him for it, but they never invited him to the occasional taco Tuesday work event.

Alex, the fleshy rock, simply touched bottom. He sunk too far into his life, never changing. Allowing coarse words to overtake compassions he thought meager to fulfill his ego. Never thankful, always spiteful. Meek in public, but damaging in private. Although, he coped in agony, those things never really consumed him unlike the phone call he received: "Your mother has cancer."

Compared to anyone else in his life, his parents always loved him. Wallowing in self pity discouraged his relationship with his family, and now time finally ran out. He could deal with himself, but he couldn't deal with others. He never wanted to face reality. Allowing himself to flow in the waves, he lost sight of the ordeal, and never once paid a visit. He wanted her forgiveness, but became a recluse instead, until the wisp visited him.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers: He can make his belly button form shapes that represent talking.

Likes: Chicken Wings, The Notebook, and Random Jeopardy Trivia.

Dislikes: Denim Jeans, Porcelain Plates, and The Time It Takes To Microwave His Food.

 

[SilverBlack]

Donut Fret love your writing style, accepted!

 

[Kabochamp]

Name: Floella Carnelis

Age: 128

Appearance:



Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Species/Occupation: Elf, unemployed.

Personality: Bright, full of energy and tries to look on the positive side of things where possible.

Character Background/What Happened:
Floella is the daughter of an influential family that has always had more money than they knew what to do with. As the previous generation had been exceptionally gifted with plant based magics, their agricultural business had been thriving. Being able to produce the best crops and livestock easily had increased their demand dramatically and they were richer than ever.

Floella had grown up surrounded by luxury, allowed to try anything and everything she had an interest in. Her parents had always treated her well and tried to make her happy and she had always thought that their actions were because of their love for her. However, as she was nearing marrying age, their treatment started to change. She was only rewarded if she acted a certain way and she was criticised frequently for being 'bad wife material'.

It was only a few years later that she learned of her betrothal. She had been promised to someone since childhood and on the day her parents finally told her, she was introduced to her future husband. He presented himself politely and gave her a wonderful greeting during introductions but it wasn't long before he revealed his true colours. He would insult her every chance he got, sometimes it seemed like it may just be for fun. He would also make awful promises for what to expect once they were married, making her very aware that she was a shiny toy for him, no longer even seen as a person.

She put up with it for a few years but the thought of marrying her betrothed made her feel sick and no matter how she pleaded with her parents or how bad her future husband treated her in front of them, they wouldn't entertain the idea of breaking of the marriage. They had a lot riding on it after all. So, when the pressure and the stress built up, she ran. She ranks far as she could, buying transport and renting rooms until she had been away from home for a year. She had been careful and laying low as much as she could but she was still caught and brought back by the authorities, quite literally kicking and screaming.

From there her situation spiralled further, with her parents keeping her under constant watch. Her feelings of being trapped and helpless grew and grew until eventually one day, the will-o-wisp appeared in front of her, leading her into it's trap.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers: Has an broad knowledge of flora and fauna. Her magic seems at first to be the ability to create small puffs of light that look like clouds.

Likes: All plants and animals, bright colours, strong smells and music.

Dislikes: Feeling helpless, being controlled, tomatos

 

[AlluringRose]

E s t e l l a||F o n t a i n e
​

A B O U T

❥|Age: 18

❥|Height: 5'1

❥|Race: Human/Witch

❥|Gender: Female

❥|Sexuality: Straight

❥|Occupation: Student

❥|Likes: Music, Singing, Learning, Flower Arranging, Reading, Gardening, Writing, Pink, Love, Fairy tales, Being Alone

❥|Disikes: People, Being Angry, Disorganization

S K I L L S

♡| Musical Inducement: She has the ability to make those around her break into song and dance.

♡| Siren Song: She is capable of emitting an astonishingly beautiful and enchanting violin sound that can lure anyone towards the sound.

♡| Rhythm Intuition: She has the power to instantly understand the rhythm and fluctuations of sound waves.

♡| Conceptual Music: She has the power to alter reality through the usage of musical rhythms and songs, even if it's just through appearances.

♡| Musical Projection: She has the power to project her music great distances or even into a room without being physically present.

♡| Heart's Song: She has the power to influence a person's emotions and can ever so slowly heal a person's heart.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❀| Anxious & Lonely: When Estella feels lonely, she feels as if nobody loves her. Having literally no friends to confide in, Estella's only friend is the other voice in her head, the one who tries to bring her down daily and succeeds without fail. Though she doesn't express it, her pain has resulted in countless breakdowns in the emptiness of her room. Along with being quite depressed about this current situation and the past, Estella is anxious for the future due to her low self-esteem and insecurities. One of her most angry fears is always being alone; always, until she leaves this world. Estella also has succumbed to countless panic attacks due to her anxiety. Considering the excellent state of her grades, as well as her ability to hide her emotions, people don't notice much about her. But in all actuality, she is a damaged, damaged woman.

❀| Loving & Caring: Despite her negative outlook, Estella is a romantic and is very loving at heart. She's sensitive and emotional, and is keen on showcasing her affection for her loved ones. Being the type to feel deeply, she attaches a lot of meaning to her expressions of love. They all come from deep within, and while her heart is as fragile as it is, it's also extremely robust. She won't crack at the first sign of trouble that arises in her bond with her loved one, but will grow stronger through the trials and storms instead.

❀| Patient: Estella considers patience as an active strength. She doesn't just sit there and wait, she believes that she's waiting for a purpose. And for that purpose, she does whatever she can to control her emotions, to fight her first impulses because first impulses contradict the idea of it. In other words, her patience implies a huge dose of doing what she actually doesn't want to do and implies hurting to some extent. To her, patience is a virtue, but impatience can get the better of her if she's pushed to that extent.

❀| Earnest & Honest: Estella is upright and fair, and is truthful, frank, and sincere. She refuses to lie, steal or deceive in any way. Good and true, Estella is a woman of high morals, though many others view her as otherwise because of her outer appearance. Estella continuously shows care and conscientiousness in her work or duties. She's at the top of her class, and that only adds to people's hatred, judgement, and misunderstanding of her.

❀| Talented: Estella is as artistic as it comes. Though she involves herself in many of the arts, her passion lies with music. Music allows her to speak in ways that words simply don't allow. She can play many musical instruments, but her favorites ones to play are the violin and her voice. Though she doesn't realize it herself yet, her music is also the source of her powers.

❀| Studious & Intuitive: There are two meanings to Estella's studious trait. On one hand, she is attentive to her studies and takes great care when it it comes to things involving her education. On the other hand, she is also studious when it comes to observing others. She can analyze a person and get quite a lot of information without even knowing the person fully well. She is instinctive and tends to use or bases on what she feels to be true even without conscious reasoning. Her instinct is one of her greatest talents, other than her musical talents. She believes that it's best to follow her gut instinct, because the outcome usually ends in her favor if she does so.

❀| Sensitive, Sentimental & Emotional: Estella is quick to sense other people's change in attitude and displays a delicate appreciation to their feelings. She feels a lot, is quick to tears, and is easily hurt because hurt because she tends to take things to heart. Because she's in tune to his emotions, she is resourceful in that she can search for ways that will control her emotions when they're getting out of control. However, there are occasions when Estella can get very emotional, and her feelings will be easily excited and openly displayed. She is also excessively prone feelings of tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia. Many who notice these traits tend to view her as being weak and fragile. In a sense, she is, but these traits also define her as strong.

❀| Patient: Estella considers patience as an active strength. She doesn't just sit there and wait, she believes that she's waiting for a purpose. And for that purpose, she does whatever she can to control her emotions, to fight her first impulses because first impulses contradict the idea of it. In other words, her patience implies a huge dose of doing what she actually doesn't want to do and implies hurting to some extent. To her, patience is a virtue, but impatience can get the better of her if she's pushed to that extent.

B A C K G R O U N D

Estella doesn't remember much of her past from before eight years old, as she was found on the ground bruised and beaten before being found and sent to an orphanage. There, she found refuge, despite the constant judgement, bullying, and torment she suffered from her peers and caretakers alike, knowing full well at her young age that she was only there not because they wanted her but because they were obliged to take care of her and at least not let her die. She grew up never knowing what being loved felt like, what feeling beautiful felt like, but she survived. Throwing herself into her studies and her music, she vowed to never allow anyone to see into her heart and endured every hurt until the day she could live her life and not just survive. Education and music was her escape from reality as well as her purpose in life. At least, until the day it was all stripped away from her. The day she turned 18, the world had collapsed all around her.

The day she turned 18, the only place she could call 'home' joyfully kicked her onto the streets. The day she turned 18, she was expelled from her school for a crime she didn't commit, simply because people there despised her too. The day she turned 18, the ragged instruments she treasured were all but destroyed. The day she turned 18, was the day she truly believed she was a monster no one could love.

And then suddenly, she wished she never lived to the day she turned 18.

 

[Love of Cyanide]

THE LOVELESS TRAMP

Name: Vasco Lazaro

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Species/Occupation: Human/Hobo

Personality: Vasco loves and hates minimally. Emotions are things to reel people in to liking him. He believes that people who escape their daily lives are the easiest to love on the rocks. Things that are 'easy' and things that are 'difficult', it's obvious what someone should go for. Vasco thinks anyway. One thing and one thing only that can get the honesty out of Vasco is having to play to someone else's tune. Regardless of how things are for him, he'd rather go back to Italy and declare to his pa he's going to work under him, than live according to what someone else planned. It's only to his own voice he'll dance.

Despite being a charmer bringing home the next drunk, he lacks friendship as a whole, flings being the only thing he can recall spare those back in Carpi. His definition of love is, if anything's obvious, twisted. He believes that long term love is something of an option and one can go without it easily. Those who can't were weak in his eyes. Of course that was himself but being a chronic liar of sorts, he escaped into whatever he could get his hands on. Escapism, while he wouldn't call it that, is a much too easy thing for Vasco to fall into. A man made up of loveless love and baseless confidence, there's only a sliver of hope for a idiot like himself.

Character Background: Vasco grew up to a drunk and a workaholic in his little town called Carpi. That sort of combination would surely have made for a tragic sort of backstory: Except, Vasco grew up fine. No bruises under the sleeve, no school house bullying, nothing that would make one pity Vasco. Except, perhaps the fact, he knew none of that cliche Italian family love. His mother was too busy getting blasted and dining herself under the table on her lonesome while his father was too busy working, working, and working. Envy was the beginning of his god-given sadness. He found his 'love' through Music and other people. With a bit of charm supplemented by looking just that bit nicer with a shave, Vasco found that sort of thing much too easy. From middle school, to high school, and then a college overseas, not a lick of complaint or word from his parents. And that was fine to Vasco, he didn't need them for the happiness he could obtain himself.

Yet, that sort of overconfidence was his eventual downfall. Chasing tail, his skill with the guitar rusted and dropping out of the holier than thou(assumedly) art institute, he made to the streets to make his own way up. But outshined by his peers at whatever bar he made an appearance at, he turned to the only two things that loved him as he did them. Women and booze. The former was much more situational than the latter, especially given the curly beard he grew, shaved, then grew back. Eventually, he didn't know how to bring his charm back out either, losing the Women that loved him.

Waking up on the newest park bench, he realized. The source of what he hated and didn't love wasn't his parents nor those who had everything he didn't. It was himself. Vasco was only fooling himself that he could go unloved long term and sustain off of short term memories. It was probably when he tried convincing himself that dying young was fine- and failed to do so at all. Age twenty eight, Vasco Lazaro of Carpi had a full read on the idiot that brought him to this place. While he lacked a good bit of fear: this insurmountable fact terrified him.

So he avoided it and ran some more.

Abilities/Skills: Bilingual, a Guitarist, and knows about fifty three different cocktails off the top of his head.

Likes: Expensive cigars(defaults to cheap cigarettes when the latter's unavailable), his guitar(The only thing he refuses to sell off), and naive people(He's envious but glad that they don't have to face the music, as it were)

Dislikes: Wine(Rotten grape juice), facing his own music(metaphorically and actually), and anti-homeless benches(Evil.)

Others: 5'8 and if he were a few inches shorter would be a great short italian man spare the lack of beer gut; Uses whatever bit of money he can get to clean up his appearance, it makes the money if his music doesn't.

 

[forsythia]

Name: Phoebe Elias

Age: 27

Appearance: (click for artist)

​

Gender: Female

Species/Occupation: human (and an absolute failure of a witch) / recently unemployed

Personality: Seemingly a bit ditzy, Phoebe seems to get through life without a care in the world. She’s extremely laid-back, albeit also a bit of an irresponsible slacker that can’t get stuff done. Being a major extravert that can’t really pick up on when people don’t want her around, it’s very common to see her trying to start a conversation at any possible moment. She’s been known to be annoying to practically anyone that just wants some space, but she’s blissfully unaware of that fact. She’s a nice person, to the degree of trusting people that are obvious piles of garbage. While she isn’t a complete idiot, she’s one to give others the benefit of the doubt a bit too often, especially when they don’t really deserve it.

Despite being lazy in the everday sense, she’s a very determined individual when it comes to stuff she cares about, preferring to not give up under any circumstance. Why else would she continue witchcraft despite a lifetime of failures? She’s an optimist at heart, even to a completely stupid degree, and will continue to be one until the day she dies. That’s not to say things can’t get her down, when they do, they hit hard. She just prefers to hit back harder, in hopes of making things turn out for the better. If she can’t have hope for the future, what else is she supposed to have?

Character Background/What Happened: Phoebe grew up with her mother, a witch who owned a small flower shop in a small town. While she didn’t have a father in her life, Phoebe was raised by her mother and the rest of her coven. The coven was the only family she ever needed, and she wouldn’t ask for it to be any different. Every member, especially her own mother, had tried to teach her the ways of witchcraft, something of which she was very excited to learn.

It took only a few lessons for her mother to realize that there was going to be a long road ahead of them. Nothing ever seemed to stick with her. Nobody ever gave up, though, at least for a good number of years. Still, as time went on, they started making her focus more on other aspects of her life - things were looking grim, and if she couldn’t master any skills, she might as well have a normal plan for life. By the time she was sixteen, and the most she could ever do was levitate a book less than an inch off of the floor, everyone had given up hope. Everyone except for Phoebe, that was.

There was only ever mild disappointment expressed by her mother and the rest of the coven. They knew this was coming, and they simply stopped including her in anything, outside of a few rare holidays and special events, despite all of Phoebe’s pleadings for just another chance. Her life became something you’d expect for any normal human then. No magic outside of seeing other people use it, school, and eventually college. In her free time, she studied witchcraft without the help of anyone else. She got better, though, ultimately, she was nowhere near the level of an actual witch. She most likely never will be.

Things were looking up for Phoebe after she graduated; she even managed to get accepted into a small college not too far from home. She visited her mother every chance she got, but after a few years of attendance, things became a lot more complicated. Her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. It grew serious pretty fast, and eventually, her mother passed away a year after her diagnosis. It really tore her apart, but she tried her best to keep a level head during these tough times.

With the house and her mother’s flower shop left to her, she worked for the next few years of her life. She hated the idea of selling the house or her mother’s pride and joy of a business. The coven members would eventually visit, but eventually stopped nearly a year since her mom’s passing. After a few years, funds and customers eventually ran short and she had to close up shop, leaving her unemployed and guilty about being unable to keep her mother’s business afloat.

One night, upon leaving the last of her shop's flowers at her mom’s grave, Phoebe noticed a little will’o wisp, bringing her a small glint of hope in a world that felt so dark. Little did she know, however, this would lead her to a much darker place.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers: Is sometimes able to cast basic spells (such as making small items float, the only thing she's decent at, actually) - but don't count on those getting anyone out of here, much less even happening in the first place. Outside of that, she has her fighting spirit and the ability to make some real nice flower boquets (had to keep the family business going somehow!).

Likes: Magic, flowers, art, really cheesy movies and/or books.

Dislikes: Giving up, travelling too far from home, bees, spicy food (even slightly spicy stuff is enough to make her cry).

 

[Nine of Swords]

[ Kanna ]



Age
looks like 12, thinks like 12, acts like 12.
5125 years old in human years but... yeah.

Gender
Female Form

Species/Occupation
Demon
no current occupation (i.e. not bound by any contract currently)

Personality
She's impatient. Watch out for your cookie jar when she's around.
She's sensitive to others' pain. She has a lot of empathy after what had happened.
Sometimes, though, she doesn't know what to do when someone gets hurt or when she hurts someone accidentally.
She's quite lazy. She'll put off anything she can put off until tomorrow. And when tomorrow comes... well, put it off for another day.


Character Background/What Happened

When Kanna was summoned to the human realm from the Abyss for the first time, the first thing she saw was a warlock in a suit. The second thing she saw was red circles etched around her feet, with enchanted candles locking her from getting out. She remembers blankly staring at the man when he explained that he needed a friend... a friend who will take care of people he didn't like. "Take care how?" she remembers asking, covering her eyes from the blinding light of the candle. The wizard knelt down, looked at her from eye-to-eye, and said, "in a permanent manner."

She said she can help him, as long as she can go free eventually. She didn't think too much about it when she accepted back then. She was more of a blank slate than anything else, since she had forgotten her life back in the Abyss, though why that was case she didn't know. After that she went on a variety of "missions", where she killed anyone who stood in the wizard and his friends' way. She remembers that the wizard had said she was an excellent friend. "Very effective at what she does," she heard him speaking to others on one evening. She didn't know what that meant, and she didn't really care. She felt neither happy nor sad.

This way of life continued for a very long life, until she began to "hallucinate" a white cat following her. The cat called itself Angel, and told her that it was sent from the Upper Realm to stop her. She cocked her head at that - not many people was able to stop her so far. At that the cat smiled, and merely asked her that if she can follow her. She accepted, again without thinking anything.

Angel followed her around, talked with her, played with her. And as time passed and passed she began to feel somewhat different. As they talked with each other, they began to know each other more and more. Angel showed her warmth and happiness, and the joy of having a friend by her side. And so light was brought into her world. It was around this time that she received a branch from the Life Tree, a tree that grew on the Upper Realm on holy places.

It was then that she fully began to understand what she had been doing. She was killing people, snuffing out their life. She began to doubt herself on her mission. She began to feel sad and guilty. As happiness entered her world, so did sadness and sorrow; she began to feel more like those she was killing. And so she requested to leave the wizard's contract. "Just one more mission, and you're free to go." She hesitated, and the wizard begged, "please, you're my best friend."

She accepted.

As soon as she swore on her words the wizard summoned a silver cord, gave it to her, and ordered her to kill the cat. "Your final mission is to kill this cat," the wizard said. She then realized with horror what was about to happen. She did her best to resist, but a demon was bound by magic and its own words, no matter what. In agony she slashed Angel to pieces until she was nothing but a bloodied heap. The cat smiled and bade her farewell as its life seeped out of its body, and she cried for the first time in her life. The wizard attacked immediately after the cat was dead, but she managed to flee with the help of the branch.

And as she was on the hunt from the wizard and his friends, grieving her only friend, a wisp visited her...

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers
1. Power to heal others (not her own power, but the power of the branch she carries around).
2. Summoning hordes of black cats, which can be used for all sorts of things (recon, attack, stealing snacks, etc.)
Kanna has some rudimentary telepathic connection with cats she summons.
3. Can transform into demon form for a short time (5 minutes max),
which gives her a big boost in strength, sharp claws, superhuman senses, and ability to blend into shadows.
Funky things happen when used too often, some of which is probably bad.
The one ability she'd rather not use, especially in front of others.

Likes
Kitties!
Playing in the rain!
Inventing stories and doodling with Angel!
And cakes! Especially those peach jelly ones!

Dislikes
Boring stuff.
Really boring stuff.
Really, really boring stuff.
Other than that, no particular dislikes.

Others
Talks in 3rd person. (ex: "Kanna feels bored", "Kanna wants to eat stuff").
If you take her on a revolving sushi bar, she'll be impressed for the rest of her life...​

 

[NighttimeForest]

Name: Nathan Theodor

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Species/Occupation: Human/ Doctor​

Personality:
After everything that's happened to him, his personality has become rather sour. He can often get annoyed easily and can come off as rude to others when he ignores them. He just finds there's no more joy in the world. Doesn't mean it needs to be fixed, but it's how he feels. Even then he still has the need to help anyone who's hurt because of his occupation. He has no issue telling people what he thinks and making sure they know he doesn't care. He'll also give compliments and tell people good job when he feels they deserve it. He's not good at showing he cares, but for those he started to like he'll try to show it.

Character Background/What Happened:
His life was well off in the beginning. He had a family who supported him. He went through school with relatively good grades. He went to college to study to be a doctor. As he studied he worked a job to make sure he can support himself and met a girl who he fell in love with. They shared their time together and soon enough rented a place for themselves. They both worked a lot so they often put aside some time for each other. Soon they got engaged and two years later married. In that time he had twins and his wife took off some time to stay with them. He soon graduated from his medical school and began his residency. He still enjoyed spending time with his kids and wife. No matter how tired he got he wanted to make sure he was there for them. He wanted to be there when they grew up. He always thought that as he held his daughter and son. He however found out that life doesn't always go the way you want it to.

Soon he became absorbed in his work, he wouldn't do the small things that he use to do. Like bring home gifts to his wife. He stopped spending as much time with his kids as he needed to get something done whenever asked. He stopped setting strict times for his family. That caused problems and soon they started to fight more. The fights got more frequent though they never escalated to physical. Soon his wife asked him if he even cared anymore. In annoyance at the constant fighting and bickering, he said no. He regretted saying that ever since. They divorced soon after and he had kept what he wanted to say to himself ever since. Every I'm sorry he ever wanted to say. Every moment he wanted to have. He bottled it up, he couldn't fix this. He moved out to his own place after that. He didn't win his kids, but he got visitation rights. At first it was rocky, but it was alright. He could still see them and even though he lived alone now he still had his job to do. A job he wanted. This is what he wanted.

Soon enough that wasn't enough. In his mind there was no where to turn to. He blamed himself. If only he did this, if only he did that. Soon he turned to drinking to help with it. His life become working and drinking. His ex wife didn't want him to be around the kids if he was going down that path. He didn't argue. It made him dislike himself more than ever. To know he could have turned this around. To know what he could have done right, but instead choose to fall so far down. It was all on him. Each day started to blur together. Work, home, drink. Work, home, drink. It went on like this for a while. Until one day he found something that made him remember the days he use to hold his children. The happiness from it and the lost time. He followed. He had no where else to turn to.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers: He has knowledge on the human body, though a ripped out heart is still a ripped out heart. No fixing there.

Likes: Black coffee, people who can appreciate just being there and not having to talk because it's polite, work that requires his full attention, dogs.

Dislikes: When people put anything in his coffee, cold rain, not saying exactly what you mean.

Others: He keeps a picture of his kids on him at all times.

 

[JAMN]

Aelor Varezys



Age
17

Gender
Male

Species/Occupation
Human / Sovereign-in-Exile

Personality
Aelor is melancholic and introverted, generally only speaking when spoken to.
He is utterly uncaring of the opinions of others and finds it difficult to relate with other people or their emotions.
He's a diligent and patient person, he'll do what he must and will wait however long he must.
Submissive and non-confrontational, he'll usually seek the path of least resistance.
Observant, notices things most people wouldn't.

Character Background/What Happened
Long ago, Aurion Varezys landed upon the shores of a new land with a great army at his back. In a brutal decade-long war of conquest, he destroyed all those who opposed him and subjugated the entire continent under his rule. Aurion assumed the title of August Sovereign, doing away with the old aristocracy and consolidating control in his own person. He would go on to be succeed by his son, then his son by his son, and so forth and so forth and so forth. As time progressed, the people began to forget life before Varezys rule and the Varezys family themselves would forget their past as well. The Varezys began to see themselves closer to gods than common men, their ascension to power being divinely preordained. The Imperial Cult would arise, with Varezys Sovereigns, Princes, and Princesses being worshiped as saints and gods. Desiring to keep their "divine' blood pure of imperfection that would arise from breeding the common stock, the Varezys would marry uncles and nieces, nephews and aunts, brothers and sister, fathers and daughters, mothers and sons. The history of the Varezys dynasty would be intertwined with prophecy and ideas of destiny.

As the centuries progressed, court and state procedure and regulations grew ever more ritualistic and complex. The Varezys family would confine themselves to their vast palatial estates across the continent, only showing themselves to the common folk and eventually even state officials on important ceremonial occasions. This would reach the point where the August Sovereigns would only communicate with their ministers and officials through intermediaries and couriers. To even be allowed lay ones eyes upon the revered and worshiped Varezys Soverign became a great honor, a idea many could only dream of. Isolated within their luxurious palaces of gold and silver, their every needs attended to, the Varezys grew ever more decadent. In the final centuries of Varezys rule, the August Soverigns became less and less involved in the governance of the realm, effectively leaving the vast state bureaucracy to its own devices.

In the 814th year of One Reign, the August Sovereign, Aurion XIX Varezys, ascended to his heavenly stature, leaving the mortal realm at the age of 38. His son would ascend to the most venerable position of August Sovereign as Aelor IX Varezys. At his enthronement ceremony, a minor official would rush up the steps and drive a sword through his chest. The court immediately fell into complete chaos. The assembled officialdom quickly surrounded Aelor IX Varezys and his assailant. The official was beaten to death and torn apart by the enraged masses as the August Sovereign was taken to a more secure area. News of the incident quickly spread across the realm and the tensions that had been building for ages finally spilled over. As Aelor IX Varezys lay dying, his realm fell into anarchy. Generals rose in rebellion as the people rose in riot in the streets. Bandits and militias devastated the countryside. Admirals went rouge can began terrorizing coastal cities and trading vessels.

Aelor IX Varezys would be succeeded by his brother, Aurion XX Varezys, six months following the incident at his enthronement. The August Sovereign mobilized loyalist forces and restored order to much of realm, yet another had performed similar actions in the west. Horonno Vhassar, a descendant of Aurion XV Varezys, had worked tirelessly to restore order where he could while the ineffective government in the capital sat around their dying ruler. Declaring the ascention of Aurion XX illegitimate, Horonno assumed the position of August Sovereign as Horonno I Vhassar. Mustering a colossal force of 250,000 men, he marched east to secure control of the realm. Aurion XX Varezys gathered his loyalist forces in the capital, numbering some 325,000 men, and marched west to confront the usurper. On the 12th of the Tenth Moon in the 815th year of One Reign, their forces met in the most ferocious and bloody battles in centuries. When the fighting concluded, tens of thousands lied dead and Aurion XX Varezys was among them. The remaining loyalists surrendered to Horonno I Vhassar and he began his march to the capitol. Aurion XX Varezys's sister-wife would proclaim their son as August Sovereign, Aelor X Varezys, a boy of only four years of age.

Within a fortnight of the ascension of Aelor X Varezys, the capital would fall to the forces of Horonno I Vhassar. His entire immediate family was killed in the chaos, but loyalists swept the boy-sovereign away alongside a great amount of wealth and symbols of Varezys power and legitimacy. The remainder of the court, some 7,500 soldiers, thousands of servants and refugees, and the boy-sovereign sailed east with great haste on some 150 ships. They would find refuge in the city-states of the Eastern Sea, outside the reach of Horonno I Vhassar. Here, they establish a Court-in-Exile, portraying themselves as the legitimate August Sovereigns and plotting to take back what they claimed was theirs.

It was in this environment, surrounded by distant advisers and courtiers in a foreign land, with memories of his family being slaughtered before his very eyes, that Aelor Varezys grew up. Haunted by memories of his past and burdened by the weight of a millennium of Varezys rule, constantly told to do this and that by those that surrounded him, Aelor became ever more submissive and melancholy. As days became weeks became months became years, Aelor simply moved through motions, acting out his role as "August Sovereign," performing his duties in a meaningless court, preparing for a restoration that would never come. Even if he did return, an army at his back, and if all the realm once again recognized the Varezys Sovereignty, what would be the point? Aelor would have no more there than he had right where he was. Growing increasingly detached from the world around him, a wisp offered him an escape.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers
Able to withstand extreme temperatures, immune to fire

Likes
Beautiful things
Art
Music
Literature
Nature

Dislikes
Politics

Others
Keeps a golden bracelet on at all times, from his mother
​

 

[OSWonder]

Name
Killian Justitia

Age
23

Gender
Male

Sexuality
???

Species
Half-Fairy

Occupation
Fashion Model


Personality
Confident: Killian is sure of himself in a way that could make others believe in him, almost inexplicably. It’s in the easiness of his smile, how it encouraged the people around him to follow suit. It’s in the fluency of his words and the fluidity of his movements. Some may view his unceasing confidence as arrogance, but it is hard to deny that it works in drawing people in.

Obstinate x Determined: When he sets his sights on accomplishing something, he follows through to the point of what some might call obsession. As long as it means getting to his destination, Killian would climb mountains and swim across oceans without a second of hesitation. Though outsiders seem to think things come easy to him, they haven’t seen all the planning that goes on in his mind and the work he puts in to achieve his goals. It might sound mad, but he would work himself to death if that’s really what it took to get where he needed to go.

Grey Morality: Though he isn’t necessarily heartless, the events of his life have led him to develop a somewhat calculating take on his relationships with others. If it will get him what he wants, Killian isn’t above manipulation. People use each other all the time, whether they realize it or not, the only difference is that he does it better than most… or at least, that’s how he excuses himself.

Many Other Things: To be discovered.

Background
With all the beauty and charms of a Fairy and none of their…height complications, you could say that he struck gold in the genetic department. What Killian Justitia wanted, he often got with little more than a pretty smile flashed in the right direction. He had more than enough resources to succeed…and succeed he did; from magazines to runways, there was no nook or cranny in the fashion world that he couldn’t reach. No matter how one looked at it, there seemed to be no reason for Killian’s life to reach anybody’s definition of low.

But, as they say, nothing comes without a price.

Upon giving birth, his Fairy mother casually dropped him off on his biological father’s doorstep, a nasty surprise for the poor man. He grew up around an abusive alcoholic who was, most of the time, furious for no good reason and otherwise completely apathetic. Cut to thirteen years later, when Killian finally snapped and fought back, using quite literally everything he could get his hands on: bottles, vases, kitchen knives, et cetera. Long story short, his father was put in jail (for more than just hitting him, as it would turn out) and he was adopted by the sympathetic and adoring Justitias.

So, you’d be thinking, hadn’t he already gotten past the worst part of his life? Perhaps, but all he felt back then was pain and terror. Now? Well.

His manager had been giving him meaningful looks whenever he took off his shirt. His inhuman blood had always made him look younger than his age, but his body was starting to grow up. His slender, feminine figure was slowly but surely going away, replaced by lean muscles and wide shoulders. The company didn’t like that. One day, she put a bottle of pills on his desk. They’re to keep you slim, she claimed. He had laughed at her, but then she added, you don’t look like you should, Killian, I’m serious.

His boyfriend knew well about his Fairy heritage and the powers that came with it. It never seemed to bother him until they started fighting. Your freaky eyes are the only reason anyone loves you, the man would yell, you’re a monster, a lying, conniving demon. They threw things around, hurt each other, slammed doors. But, in the end, the other man always comes back with kisses on his forehead and tells him that he loves him — genuinely, unlike everyone else.

His biological father was coming out of jail, soon. It unsettled him. Restraining order, hiding his address, none of that eased his mind. Nightmares still woke him at midnight and hidden scars still ached. All you do is trap people and drain them dry, like a parasite, his father told him once, sober and eerily calm, like your mother. Whenever he thought about it, he sizzled with hatred and fury. He didn’t fear what his father would do to him. He feared what he might do to the man.

Now, there was insecurity, there were needs and desires that didn’t get along, there were truths about himself that he couldn’t ignore. Now, there was isolation, the kind that you felt deep inside when you were in the middle of a crowd, that you can’t get rid of even as your lover holds you tight. And there was still pain and terror. But the pain was in his heart and the terror was of himself. Somehow, that was much, much worse.

One night, Killian decided to drink it all away, for once. It worked. When alcohol took over, it was easy to believe his friends when they lamented about how great his life was and laugh about everything like it was nothing. What wasn’t easy, though, was driving home.

When the edge of the road flashed across his vision, Killian’s last thought was that he might never wake up again. Except, he did, to the little wisp and the lady in red.

Abilities
Fae Charm: Most people describe it as something about the glint in his eyes. In truth, Killian is simply more Fairy than he seems at first sight. When his gaze bores into yours, it is often difficult to go against his will. Nothing that anyone with a sharp mind can’t overcome, of course, but useful all the same.

People Reading: Anyone who shares his social circles understands that people are important resources. To own them, one must first understand them.

Running Long Distances: Can’t fly, unfortunately, but running is easy as pie.

Likes
Coffee, Starry Nights, Fashion, Money (duh), Beauty, Marble Floors, Physical Affection (he pretends otherwise), Himself, Attention (sue him)

Dislikes
Dirt, Dust, Stains (you get the idea), Long Silences, Furry Animals, Being Threatened (physically or otherwise), Himself (edgy, isn’t it), Alcohol (ah, the irony)

Other
Do not, do not, for the love of God, bring furry animals around him.

 

[KRONOS]

​

::Name::
Darius D. Sinclair Corvus Blackhardt.

::Gender::
I'm obviously a male sherlock.

::Age::
I've been around for a long while, around almost two centuries give or take.

::Race::
I was born a half-elf, my father was human while my mother was elven, yet long long ago I encountered a werewolf during a period In my life when I was hunting criminals as a adolescent bounty hunter. The man I killed had gone feral from the blood of the beast, It was surprisingly not too difficult to put him down but, I let my guard down just for second and he lunged at me sinking his teeth deep Into my side as I stuck my knife Into his heart. Lucky for me the wound wasn't too serious, but soon after he passed, the wolf spirit possessing him transferred over to me and ever since then I've shared the cursed blood of the wolf; but that's a story for another time.

::Height::
6'4".
::Weight::
I'm around 195 lbs.
::Appearance::
At first glance Darius appears as a tall stark and grimly visaged older gentleman with a clean shaven face and a seemingly unfettered stony countenance. Darius has short brushed-back ashen hair and two notably bright blue eyes; one of them bearing a long deep gnarly crescent shaped scar etched across the right side of his face. Despite his age he has a sorta lean yet hardy constitution with muscles that are oddly tough for an old timer. His skin Is pale like snow yet also surprisingly unhindered by wrinkles that normally come with age. Darius's usual attire Is composed of: one black leather jacket with a hoodie, a red diagonally buttoned long sleeve shirt, two black leather gloves, sepia pants, two black leather boots, and a tactical leather belt with a few pouches where he keeps some spare ammunition.

Occupation::
I'm a detective/private Investigator.

::Affiliation::
The Hellsing: Supernatural Detective Agency.

Spoiler: H.S.D.A

Spoiler: Detective Badge

::Sexuality::
Women... (Aesexual).

::Nicknames/Aliases::
Only certain people refer to me as Dismas, to those that do are normally people or entities that know me from a past life; a past life which was almost two centuries ago.

Personality::

Spoiler: Click

Solitary -Prefers the quiet to himself and takes great solace In Isolation and normally he doesn't tend to draw any unwanted attention to himself; normally.

Fastidious - A man like him, pays very close attention to detail with organization and appearances to a meticulous extent; though only when It comes to himself. It's not as If he seeks perfection but more so on the lines of something thats, almost close to perfection.

Ruthless - Darius Is a man who'd slit the throat of almost anybody; even a king's; just for pushing his buttons the wrong way. Though he Is a principled man, he Isn't the type to stand by while something he sees as wrong Is happening before him. But make no mistake, he Is not the hero type; he's never seen himself the kind of being who saves everyone from their troubles, because to him, not everyone deserves to be saved.

Intuitive - Since he was child he's always been good at seeing the pieces to a greater picture with certain situations that others could not see due to their own narrow sightedness, small minded Intuition, and lack of Imagination. To him It was all about seeing the pieces and piecing them together, only to search for more In order to better understand the circumstances.

::Likes::
He enjoys a good fight.
Likes a bit of action every now and again with the cases he chooses.
Enjoys nature.
Literature.
Knives and other selections of sharp weaponry.
Beer and Ale.
Music.
The rain.
The stars and the moon.
Smoking his hand rolled cigs.
The ocean.
Mystery.
Variations of magic.
Arcane tombs.
Folklore.

Dislikes::
Cigarets, weed, and cigars.
The city.
Hates repeating himself.
Bad smells.
Shit music.
Crowds.
The way things are In the world.
Doesn't care much for people In general; never has; especially the stupid and naive ones. He especially hates being disturbed or Interrupted by others while he's In the middle of something.


::Background::
My name Is Darius and I'm a private detective of the supernatural and currently I'm on a case to find a missing child by the name of Amelia Winters; heiress to the Winter household; who disappeared little over two days ago. Her sorry excuse for parents contacted the Hellsing detective agency, promising a lucrative some for her subtle and discreet return; this meant no feds or reporters. Conveying this to the feds would bring shame on their family household's name, If It were to become public; which apparently was more Important to them than their daughters safety; It would shake their, "social standing" as It were, and really show the so called, "high society" the type of Ignoble scum they really were behind there pearly white gates. The boss of the agency delivered this case on my desk In hope that I would accept; In which I obviously did. But after meeting with the "parents" for further Investigation, Mr. Winters began babbling about the contract that would legally seal my lips from disclosing any of this Information to the feds or to the public. In turn their lawyer explained through a lot of unnecessary rhetoric that the agency would In short receive a sweet sum of three million dollars as was discussed over the phone, apparently. In response to this, I stared down their proposal... and refused. Storming out the Winters manor I began the search for Amelia, right before calling my boss; asking him to make the call to the feds about their missing child. My boss was more than understanding of my personal choice. Within the hours, news of the missing girl would be all over the news. The police would never find her, but I would, and I sure would sleep better for refusing their dirty money.

::Magical Abilities::
Since I was a boy I grew up surrounded by the arcane arts, due to my mother being a well accomplished sorceress and my father though a writer was supposedly a prodigious wizard In the making before he abandoned It all to pursue his passion In writing fictional literature. My mother and father taught me many things; though admittedly It was mostly my mother who did the teaching; about art, literature, alchemy, the supernatural, how to read and write; all of what she mostly knew, she taught me; Including magic as you might call It. I also taught myself through the arcane tombs which my mother kept In her library; It was through trial and error that I learned how to perfect my craft as a sorcerer and presently I've had over two centuries to practice and to learn from my mistakes. In my left hand I do bare a gift that was given to me by my mother with her dying breath; Its a rune of great power known as Magnus; It absorbs and stores the mana around me within It's mark giving me ample reserves of mana to spend or save and believe me, It really does come In handy when things are looking dangerous.

Spoiler: The rune of Magnus

::Skills::
Skilled fighter.
Skilled sharpshooter.
Skilled hunter and tracker.
Professional detective.
Supernal condition.
Sharp werewolf senses.
Well versed In arcane matters and the supernatural.
A expertly skilled sorcerer.
Parkourist.
One of my many talents In life was In the art of killing; It's a talent I continued to hone Into a fine razor sharp edge. After both my parents were murdered I found myself on the run In cobbled streets of Crenshaw; the worst part of town In this retched City. At first I was lost In the degrading slums and afraid of every stranger loitering around every corner, but at the same time I was filled to the brim with seething hot rage. I had a aching burning thirst that only messy and bloody revenge could quench. I spent almost half a year In the slums, learning all the required essentials one would need to survive In this dung hole part of Blackwater. Number one was simple enough, always watch your back. Number two was discerning where you could procure your next meal; whether it was from picketing food vendors or from looting the closest kitchen of a decent establishment; so long as It was a stable and reliable source, you wouldn't have to worry about starvation. Three was one rule I broke far too many times; keep your head low and mind your own business. But unfortunately for me, I couldn't exactly mind my own business when the guard was beating the snot out of some street kids who were In right place at the wrong time; kids whose only crime was starvation and being desperate enough to have to rummage through the garbage out the back of some run down restaurant. Needless to say I got Into my fair share of bloody scuffles with the law and the lawless. Later on as the months dragged on, I decided to become a bounty hunter, I needed the coin and I needed to get stronger. In that time I came to realize a few things about myself, one was how easy It was for to take a life. I felt absolutely nothing when I sliced the throats of the criminals unlucky enough to be my mark. They were all mostly lowlife scum, yet I was still almost surprised of how little I felt watching them die by my crimson stained blade. The second thing I came to understand, was that I was good at killing and I became even better at It with just a little practice. I was killing men twice sometimes thrice my size with relative ease and I was only fourteen; It was lucky for me that their bounties were all registered dead or alive, otherwise I would've had a much more troublesome time earning each of those bounties. Bringing six heads In was far more lucrative than dragging one lousy criminal back alive and Intact. Some could argue It be smarter to bring them In alive, cause eventually they'd get out and get themselves on a wanted poster all over again, but I slept better knowing that they'd never be able to hurt anyone else ever again.
During the years I spent as a bounty hunter, I also came to understand what a bloated festering mess this city really was and how rife It was with parasites that fed off of It. Parasites like drug lords, king pins, corrupt nobles, corrupt officers, thugs, slave traders, criminals, and serial killers who killed all for the sake satiating their sick sadistic Impulses. I was tired of It, even disgusted by It to my very core. There were far too many nights when I couldn't even sleep at the very thought that out there somewhere, there was some lost child, a woman In the wrong place, or just some sorry bastard out there alone In the muck of this city, whose heart was crying out for help; the kind of help that would never come no matter how much you either prayed or begged for It. So, I decided to do something about It. Soon all the scum In this city, would become my fair game, for my hunt had begun and I would continue to relentlessly cull them out one by one In my personal crusade to purge all of those who would bring needless despair and pain to others without just cause. Years later I had matured Into an young adult and by this time I had turned the underworld upside down on It's head with the aide of a few capable allies whose Interests aligned with my own. Together criminals and nobles alike grew to fear our names; especially mine; Dismas the Butcher of Crimshaw.
​

::Strengths::

Spoiler: Click

Darius Is a more than principled man and a outstandingly resolved one at that. Resilient to an extent where he always stays true to himself no matter the circumstance and he always does things his own way.

::Flaws::

Spoiler: Click

Darius has a low sense of moderation. This one time some thugs approached him and asked him what time It was In a remissive attempt to swipe his phone as they ganged up on him. He gave them a chance to walk away, when they didn't, he beat the living snot out of all five. After a few broken noses a couple broken faces he crouched down to the one who questioned him beforehand and In turn asked him what the time was, right before breaking each finger In their left hand as he Inquired whether It was one or two o'clock... he continued all the way until he reached five o'clock with the man's pinkie finger, but that Is where he regressed and left the man with his pinkie unbroken. Then he warned them that If he ever found any of them trying to shakedown people In the streets again he would pay a visit to each and everyone of them; and he meant It.

Doesn't play well with others and cares even less for following the orders of others. He also has a bad habit of Ignoring others who he feels just aren't worth wasting breath on.

He's bluntly honest with the truth to an extent where It seems like he just doesn't give a damn about what others think; which Is In all honesty actually true and right on point. He believes being polite for the sake of being polite to another Is contradictory and rude. He'd mostly rather be rude yet honest than someone whose polite yet full of crap.

::Miscellaneous::

Spoiler: Click

Darius keeps a few Items with him In his line of work.

•One of them Is a Intricate silver ring with a bronze vermeil through the Intricate etchings. Though the ring only has sentimental value to him, fore once It was his fathers before he was murdered. It reminds him from time to time when times were simpler and happier for him.

Spoiler: Blackhardt Ring

•Second Is a custom made revolver called magnus; a magnum much larger than that of a .44 magnum revolver with enough stopping power to blow a gapping hole through man's chest cavity. It's custom design Is flawlessly composed of red wood for the grip and underbelly of the barrel, complimented with a pure gold cylinder, hammer, and trigger, but with a finishing touch of Intricate designs etched and marked thought out It's model. The bullets for this beast are especially vicious using full metal jacketed .454 Casull cartridges In six chambers. He keeps It holstered by his left rib side.


•Thirdly he has a long double-edged damascus knife with a slight curve sheathed In leather by the lower left of his waist side. Designed with a red wood handle with silver trim Integrated Into It.

Spoiler: Knife

•Fourthly Is a special enchanted amulet he wears all the time.

Spoiler: The amulet of Zuriel

•Darius has a sorta old low sorta raspy voice.

Spoiler: Old picture of him when he was younger

•Darius enjoys smoking his own brand of hand rolled black cigs, which are mainly composed of sage, mint, mugwort, and a bit of lavender. The aroma being very pleasant has a soothing feel to It. Normally he has a pack of them In a stygian-black automatic cigarette holder.

 

[Northless]

Name: Meredith "Mer'' Resteross
Age: 25
Appearance:


Gender: Female
Species/Occupation: Human/Ex Blacksmith
Personality: Impulsive, talks her mind, has no care for the results of her actions on others. Prefers to keep people to a distance.

Character Background/What Happened:
After working her whole life as a blacksmith's apprentice, her first real job was forging a noble's sword for a duel, and she put her heart and soul on the endeavor. The noble, a coward, rejected the sword as it wasn't ''fit'' for a fight like this one, in hopes of delaying the fight. He did so one, two, and many times... each one putting an increasingly convoluted excuse for doing so. Meredith had been slowly losing hope in her own abilities, shutting herself from any other's input but the noble's, sure that he must have a reason to act as he did.
One time, when the sword came back with the message of ''it wasn't fit for someone as me''', Mer snapped. She threw any hope of keeping the shop running down the drain, taking every last cent she still had and leaving town. She gave up on trying to understand people, on trying to reason their actions... instead waiting for the worst on anyone she came across with, or for them to act only on what could benefit them. That's how she ended up wandering cities she never ever heard the name of, meeting many people and refusing help from any of them, even when if that meant becoming a beggar in the long run, and growing ever more detached and sour...
Is that a will-o-wisp?

Abilities/Skills: Extensive knowledge of medieval forging, can carry a lot of weight, even if it doesn't seem like it. Picked up many phrases in foreign languages during her travels. Knows how to survive in the wild for a good amount of time

Likes: Quiet places, beer, long travels, straightforward people

Dislikes: Curtsies, dogs, over the top displays of affection, spicy foods

Others: Has a mother and a sister she hasn't seen in years, and refuses to think about them. She still feels like she failed them, and her master, and the noble.

 

[Kitt]

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[div class=background][div class=slider][div class="Tabs tab01"]basic[/div][div class="Tabs tab02"]personality[/div][div class="Tabs tab03"]history[/div][div class="Tabs tab04"]other[/div][/div][div class=centerimage][/div][div class=contentwrap][div class="scrollbox page01"][div class=title]requisite[/div]
[div class=title]name[/div][div class=text] yuuko ishikawa[/div]
[div class=title]aliases[/div][div class=text] yuuki, asuma[/div]
[div class=title]pronoun[/div][div class=text]he/him[/div]
[div class=title]age[/div][div class=text]17[/div]
[div class=title]gender[/div][div class=text] male[/div]
[div class=title]race[/div][div class=text]mage[/div]
[div class=title]occupation[/div][div class=text]dropout[/div]

[div class=title]appearance[/div]
[div class=title]height[/div][div class=text] 5'6"[/div]
[div class=title]weight[/div][div class=text] 130lbs[/div]
[div class=title]hairstyle[/div][div class=text] short, choppily cut green hair.[/div]
[div class=title]eye colour[/div][div class=text] black irises. bloodshot.[/div]
[div class=title]outfits[/div][div class=text] baggy, black alternative clothing. [/div]
[div class=title]description[/div][div class=text]while, he's not grimy, he looks like he could get that way in a relatively short period of time.[/div]

[div class=title]stats[/div]
[div class=title]intelligence[/div][div class=text]16/20 - relatively clever. quick wit and equally quick tongue.[/div]
[div class=title]strength[/div][div class=text] 6/20 - able to carry himself and his belongings, but little else.[/div]
[div class=title]dexterity[/div][div class=text] 14/20 - nimble hands, and hard to catch.[/div][/div][div class="scrollbox page02"]
[div class=title]likes[/div][div class=text]drugs, alternative fashion, anarchy.[/div]
[div class=title]dislikes[/div][div class=text]being sober, authority, buzzkills and squares.[/div]
[div class=title]quirks/habits[/div][div class=text]tends to play with the chains on his clothing. has pretty bad resting bitch face. curses like a really pissed off sailor.[/div]

[div class=text]yuuko is a teenage dirtbag. rude, crass, and little to no interest in the wellbeing of others, he's the definition of an asshole. the only thing that really interests him is how he's going to get to the next party, or his next fix. the good news is, he's not completely delusional. yuuko is fully aware that he has a drug problem; he just doesn't care.

yuuko classifies himself as an anarchist, but it's mostly just because he wants to do whatever he wants without any sort of repercussions. the name of the game for yuuko is apathy and anarchy, relishing in causing chaos and letting others suffer through it. his emotions have been dulled from years of seeing abhorrent things in the streets, leaving yuuko with a stone cold heart, or even just an empty spot in his chest.

yuuko spares his wrath only from small children, especially those in poor, urban areas. kids remind him too much of his past. not to say that he would be nice; he just wouldn't be outright sadistic toward a small child.[/div][/div][div class="scrollbox page03"][div class=title]skills[/div][div class=text]- rather convincing liar. conversely, sees through less experienced liars quickly.
- incredibly street smart.
- high level of chemical knowledge.
- good in a fight, though he plays dirty.
- incredibly nimble, making him slippery.
[/div][div class=title]magic[/div][div class=text]waste: absorbs life energy from nearby beings. this includes foliage.
upper: increases his own speed for approximately 15 minutes.
downer: decreases his sensitivity to pain, and lowers his heart rate, decreasing the amount of energy required to perform tasks.
quick fix: used to replenish mana quickly.
jolt: basic electric magic, sending a small but powerful wave of electricity out from his finger tips. can be used directly on a target, or sent through conductive materials for a wider area of attack.
sacrifice: slices open a section of yuuko's body, releasing toxins. these toxins can be directed to one or multiple targets. does inflict damage upon yuuko.
anarchy: an "ultimate" move. causes complete devastation of the immediate area around him, to a certain degree (ex: can't melt someone, but can kill if target is already injured). this move consumes all of yuuko's energy, and can leave him knocked out. only to be used in an emergency situation, and never while alone.[/div]
[div class=title]other[/div][div class=text]has several "orbiters", despite his protests. these orbiters are mostly girls around his age, who think he's a "cool, edgy guy". it's usually just girls with daddy issues.[/div]
[div class=title]biography[/div][div class=text] born to a drug dealer and his crackwhore, yuuko was exposed to the underbelly of society from birth. by the age of 10, he had witnesses at least five different deaths, either from overdose or murder. one of these deaths was his mother; not that he cared, anyways. she never paid him any mind. all she cared about was where she would get her next fix, openly cheating on her husband in order to get what she needed.

at 13, yuuko's father decided it was time to get his son into the family business. yuuko made his first deal in the back of a strip club his father used as a cover and money laundering facility. he got into his first drug related fight not soon after, after being shorted by a client. while many would expect a child forced into drugs to have been scared or reluctant, yuuko was neither. it was just how things were; he didn't know any better.

at 15, his father was killed after a deal went wrong. at this point, yuuko, without his own supply of product, got out of the game, and began using drugs himself. these ranged from just smoking, to eventually developing a nasty coke habit. it was expensive, but hey. that's how it was done in the city, right? theft became a common past time for yuuko, stealing what he needed to get by, and pawning off valuables he looted in order to have enough cash to get whatever else he needed.

years passed, and yuuko had become a well-known figure in the underground drug scene. everyone knew his dad, and many had even bought from the teen back when he was dealing. many young girls, from similar backgrounds, clung onto the young addict. with this circle of admirers, yuuko manipulated them into buying him whatever drug he desired at the time. it was a pretty sweet set-up, and it was at this point that he decided to get back into dealing.

bad idea. [/div]
[div class=title]arrival[/div][div class=text]a drug deal went wrong one night, and resulted in yuuko doing what he hated most; running. usually, he was eager to jump into a fight, prove that he was the toughest kid in the underbelly. but this was different. it was his first big deal, serving one of the most influential politicians in the city. after collecting his payment, yuuko counted out the cash in front of the politician and his men.

"hey, man. you fucking shorted me a hundred. you think im stupid?"

a gun cocks. "take what i gave you and go, or we'll have to sort this out in a much messier way. got it?"

this probably could've gone smoother if yuuko was any good at biting his tongue. but he's not.

"i'm not leaving until i get my money."

fast forward a few minutes, and yuuko is tearing through the city, dodging passerby in order to get out. mind racing, he knew that he had just fucked everything up. "where do i go? i don't have shit if im not in this godforsaken city..." the woods. run for the woods.

tripping over sticks and brambles, yuuko ran until he couldn't hear the sound of footsteps following him anymore. the delinquent let out a sigh of relief, until... he released he didn't know where the hell he was.

fuck.[/div][/div][div class="scrollbox page04"][div class=title]trivia[/div][div class=text] yuuko is a big fan of 70s and 80s punk music.[/div]
[div class=title]faceclaim[/div][div class=text] background image[/div]
[div class=title]theme[/div][div class=text]too drunk to fuck, dead kennedys.[/div]
[div class=title]extra[/div][div class=text]posts will be properly capitalized and have proper grammar, this is for aesthetic :-)[/div]
[div class=text][/div][/div][/div][div class=loadpage][div class=greeting]yuuko ishikawa[/div][div class=enter]enter[/div][/div][/div]

code by RI.a

((im pretty sure this code broke, it shows up fine in my preview, let me know if it doesn't on yalls))

 

[Goonfire]

Name: Novus (no surname)

Age: 6 (looks 18)

Appearance:
Novus stands at exactly 6’0. He sports artificial skin and blue-colored hair. Underneath this skin lies a complex combination of steel cables, woods, and crystals, which allow him to move about as a normal human would. He boasts a degree of lean muscle. Overall, he doesn’t appear very threatening. Novus’ attire consists of white fabrics and finer leathers, mostly stained light colors like gray or tan. He keeps a dagger in his left boot and a staff on his back.

Gender: Agender (identifies as male)

Sexuality: Homosexual?

Species/Occupation: Construct, guardian

Personality:
Novus was graced with a loving and submissive personality, contrary to his intended purpose. He is loyal to those who need him, and will not leave their side or give up on them. He cares little for appearance, but will usually make sure someone who is usually neat and clean remains so. His artificial soul has several flaws, which manifest in the form of aggression or sadness when he or a friend is berated or attacked. He struggles with his odd pseudo-existence and wishes to be a real boy. Other males inexplicably fascinate him, hence his craving for romance with a male.

Character Background/What Happened:
Novus was considered a defective prototype for a guardian-type construct. He was imbued with knowledge of mages and close-combat fighters. However, he lacked the will to cause harm, barring extreme circumstances. Instead, he pinned his attackers or tried to talk sense into them. He wasn’t an effective guard at all...

After a couple years of extensive testing, the wizards who made him gave him away to a school. However, the class he watched over and cared for left him behind when they graduated. He was devastated that nobody cared enough to bring him to the outside world, so he ran away.

Abilities/Skills/Superpowers:

• Weapon Proficiency - Novus has an inherent understanding of daggers, longswords, staves, spears, and javelins. He can use them all with top-notch precision.
• Lightning magic - Novus can harness the magic coursing through his body to deliver paralyzing electrical shocks, be it in the form of an electrified staff head or an arc of lightning from his hand.
• Enhanced durability - His body is reinforced, able to take several blows from standard weapons.
• Dark vision - He can see well in dark areas.

Likes:
Humans, nature, food & cooking, dancing, chess

Dislikes:
Destruction, his inability to eat food, filth, chaos

Others:
Although he doesn’t require food, he needs to be ‘renewed’ annually via physical repairs and magic, or else he will cease to function. He is also susceptible to illusions.

 

[SilverBlack]

[Temporarily closed, no more characters for now!]

 

[KRONOS]

::Name::
Unknown

::Nicknames/Aliases::
Moonshadow.

::Gender::
...Male...

::Age::
I think I should be around 24 or 25 this year.

::Race::
I'm a halfbreed. My father was something similar to that of Atmorian and my mother was born a Moamer. From the way I heard It, both of our tribes similarly set out from their homelands for reasons that are still currently half known, since It was so long ago. My people from what I understand, were originally banished from our old home Aldmeris, long long ago; do to the actions of a foolish noblemen known as Orgnum. Him and the other Maormer who sided with him were all consequently banished to the Island continent of Pyandonea for rebelling against the old rulers of Aldmeris. Later on though our people began to settle Into their newly given home and began forming their own society; one led by Orgnum. But eventually, as the years grew on, newer generations were born Into this new society Orgnum had created and slowly but surely, a difference of opinion of how things were being handled In Pyandonea began to rise. It was supposedly my ancestors who really didn't like Orgnum or how he ruled over our people. Therefore they decided something had to be done before things could progress any further than It already had. Luckily for them, they weren't the only ones who agreed with this, and so different families began to get together to form a plan. The plan was nothing so grand as an assassination attempt, but more so one that entailed escaping the Island to find a new home where they could live freely without being under the thumb of anyone like Orgnum ever again.... and as far as I know, they were successful In their plan of escape. The details to the rest of their story Is a bit vague. It Is Implied though In some of our stories that Dwemaorald the great shark came to our ancestors In their time of need and proposed the Idea of finding a new home. He’s also said to have been the guide that led our tribe to their new home In the forgotten Isles; but nonetheless these are all just stories that have been passed down. As for my father, I vaguely know anything about how his people or how they arrived at the forgotten Isles. I only know that the reason they left their homeland Roscrea was because of Imperial rule. Many of their tribe supposedly conformed willingly to the Imperial take over while on the other hand they refused to abandon their old ways to the new ways of the Imperial empire. So they left their home and set sail for new land that they could call home.

::Birthplace::
I was born on the Island called Cathnoquey; It's a strange place located In what Is commonly known as the Forgotten Isles. It's a group of Islands that border the mysterious continent of Akavir.

::Birth sign::
The serpent.

::Height::
No clue. (6'4")

::Weight::
Heavy-ish? (198 lbs.)

::Appearance::
At first glance, Moonshadow appears as a callous and grim visaged mer with a pair of darkened eyes that have this way of just piercing through you. He bears a unique ethereal paleness to his complexion and his shadowy visage conveys two dark-yellow eyes surrounded by jet-black scleras. His face also notably bears four discernible scars which came at the cost of sparing three lives In an event where he fought a territorial sea serpent. Similar to his complexion, Moonshadow has long ethereal ashen-silver hair that gently falls passed his broad shoulders to the middle of his upper back. Being somewhat taller than most, he towers over some, but not all. His constitution Is notably very well structured and distinctively very herculean-bound from his neck to his toes from the years of hellish training In Tang-mo the thousand monkey Isles. Any perceptive warrior who has seen a body like his can tell just by glance of the raw build of his muscles and the many scars across his body, that he's a passionate fighter In the making. His attire consists mainly of a black sleeveless hooded cloak, some black bandages which wrap up his hands leaving the fingers exposed, two black leather boots, and some leather chest armor with the shoulders exposed.

Spoiler: Body Image

Occupation::
I'm an adventurer, a hunter, and a mercenary on some occasions.

::Affiliation::
No, I'm not affiliated with any guild. I mostly do mercenary work from time to time.

::Sexuality::
I prefer the company of women.

::Religion::
I'm not the religious type, but I was raised In a tribe that reveres a strange deity known as, Dwemaorald. Our stories betray him as a great horned shark with skin as pale and as luminescent as the pale moon. He Is said to consume all who are worthy enough to be considered his prey; with a maw so wide, he can devourer the largest of sea serpents with one bite. No prey Is able to escape his gaping maw which Is said to be filled from top to bottom with endless razor sharp teeth which are used to grind the flesh and bones of his meal. As children they told us the reason he consumes every part of his prey was to teach us not waste any part of our kill, to do so was to dishonor ourselves and the hunt. Those stories were mostly made up yet, they always made feel weary of the ocean and of the things that may have lurked deep within It. In which was probably a good thing since It taught me to be careful and aware of my surroundings. For a time, I thought those stories were all false as the years pressed on. Up until one fateful night, under the blue moon... I met the great horned shark himself. It was on the same night I was given Night render; a sacred weapon that has remained In my tribe's keeping for generations. After I was given the weapon from the shrine I began walking out onto the beach. I remember that night so clearly, It was a beautiful windy night under the stars and I couldn't help but feel this feel this obscure Impulse residing within me. It felt like the sea was calling out to me and a part of me was longing to return to It even after what had happened between me and the snake. So I Indulged this feeling and swam far out before delving deep beneath the ocean's surface. It was only then that I began to notice how vacant It was. Normally there were fish of all kinds even at night, yet, there were none anywhere... and the silence... the spectral silence was to such an extent that It was as If nothing except myself existed In that very moment. I was alone In this great tranquil emptiness, and I felt so... remarkably at peace with It. Drifting aimlessly within the calm stillness of the ocean, at the perspective of It's abyssal depth; I gazed absently at the wavering surface of the sea Ignited by the moonlight of secunda. I think the part I enjoyed the most... was the feeling Isolation; the very thought of It made smile with ease. It was then that he came to me, and just as the legends foretold, Dwemaorald came before me In form of colossal great white shark with two enormous horns and skin ethereal like starlight.

"Well met young hunter", he spoke to me, only not with words, but with thoughts." I witnessed your epic battle against the great serpent... and I must say, most Impressive...most Impressive Indeed. While most would have outright slain the beast, you Instead wrestled It over and over again, seemingly without any hope for success. For so long you struggled against It without any falter In your determination even as It lashed out at you with all It’s beastial rage. Until finally... against all odds, you prevailed and were able to force them to submit, you to your own accord quelled It's wrath with your eager persistence. I watched with awe as you locked eyes with the beast and stared It down without the slightest hint of fear or anger... even after It marred you. It still puzzles me why you risked your life to save a man and his son, both who’ve you never met, and then you went so far as to put yourself Into even further danger by trying to hold off the beast Instead of slaying It. They fled away to safety, whilst you fought the dreaded beast. All of this at your expense, with no bounty to show for It. Your either brilliantly brave or astonishingly foolish. But I know better... you. Are. No fool. I've had my eye on you for a long time, Moonshadow. Since the moment you were born, I sensed greatness from you. I knew you would grow Into something Interesting, and so far, you've only proven me right. Yet, you still have much more room for growth."

Believe It or not, I wasn’t overly surprised by any of this, but more so Intrigued by It. I asked them If they were Dwemaorald, they softly chuckled and replied, "I've been given a great many names over the centuries by my followers, so many I've almost forgotten them all.". Then who are you now, I asked him. He replied to me,"I am who I've always been since the dawn mortal kind. I am the great aspect of the hunt, otherwise known to most mortals as, Hircine!”. After Introductions were finished he began to ask me a series of questions and after that he told me that I should venture out to the lands toward the west. I asked him why should I. He slyly replied back to me as our eyes met for a moment as he continued to circle around me, "For the hunt of course. Do you not strive for greater challenges; to pit your will against Impossible odds? If so, then I say onto you, travel far to the west of these seas with swift haste! For the hunt awaits. May that spear serve you well child of the sea.". With that he disappeared Into the darkness with the echo of his jubilant laughter fading Into silence. That was the first time I encountered the aspect of the hunt, but It wasn’t the last I would see of him.

Personality::
Solitary - Prefers the quiet to himself and takes great solace In Isolation and normally he doesn't tend to draw any unwanted attention to himself.... normally.

No sense of moderation - Depending on the situation, he can become Incredibly "Severe". This means that his emotions are stronger than some would expect. Despite his quiet and stolid exterior, he can be admittedly quite, surprisingly violent when he wants to be; especially In malefic and wrathful nature. The coldness he shows Is only equal to that of his brutality for those who have crossed a line that should never be crossed. So In short, If given a reason, he could go berserk on someone who has done something he deems as Irredeemable, because he Is neither the forgiving type nor the type to walk away from a deplorable act that has or Is being committed right before him.

Easygoing - Doesn't exactly have a determined goal In mind, he kind of just goes with his own flow with things.

Pridefully Independent - He takes great pride In his freedom and lives his life by his own set of principles, without any care of any one else's opinion.

Strict - He Is very set In the ways of both his principles and his standards. When It comes to a job, mission, or contract you can definitely expect him to handle things with both method and utmost professionalism. When he works with others he expects them to act In a similar fashion, though that Is usually never the case. Which Is why he prefers to work alone.

::Likes::
-He loves a good fight.
-Likes a bit of action and a bit of chaos every now and again. Cause nothing beats the unexpected on a grand adventure.
-Enjoys nature.
-Animals.
-Loves beautiful women.
-Weapons, specifically glaives and spears.
-Loves ale.
-Enjoys good music.
-The rain.
-The stars and the moon.
-The ocean.
-Training.

Dislikes::
-Not the biggest fan of cities.
-People In general.
-Kids or just people who’re young spirited In essence.
-Boredom.
-Bad smells.
-Crowded places.
-Restrictions.
-Distractions.
-Those who have no respect for life.

::Biography::
It's been four years since me and my brother arrived on the shores of Tamriel and It's been four years of a great many adventures with what I'd expect are more to come In the near future. It's been an Interesting experience traveling around Tamriel's provinces such as Elsweyr, Valenwood, and Hammerfell. I preferred the time me and my brother spent In Valenwood more so than anywhere else, though I'm certain he enjoyed the exoticness of Hammerfell more so than anywhere else we traveled to. The land of Valenwood and It's people reminded me dearly of home and of the peaceful Chimer people who were are tribes neighbors of the Cathnoquey. They lived In a way that was almost similar to that of what I could describe as being one with nature, and I appreciated that, and their simple carefree way of life. They even spoke of the aspect of the hunt, though they knew him by a different name. It also came to me as a surprise to discover there were others with gifts similar to my tribes. Only this tribe of Bosmers carried a different form of lycanthropy. They Instead were able to shape-shift Into something they called, werewolves. Four years later I found myself on an Island called Stros M'kai; an Island off the border of Hammerfell. During my time there I was visited by the aspect of the hunt, who at the time took the form of ethereal white bird during one starry night. It was almost similar to the first time we met. He told me that he would hold a grand festival for the coming blood moon and that I was Invited to participate. He also said I should be prepared for anything and with that message, he left without a word along the cool summer winds of Stros M'kai. That night I had packed my belongings and left with post haste on the first ship to Valenwood, but not before telling my brother of where I was heading that night. So after a long month, I trekked from Valenwood to the harsh wetlands of Blackmarsh to begin training myself In a place I was guaranteed by many travelers, to be one of the most Inhospitable regions In all of Tamriel.

::Relations::
None I'm willing to mention.

::Abilities::
Bestial Transformation - The spirit of the shark flows as one with his essence. Since the day he was born, he has beared the gift of lycanthropy. For someone as sensitively conscientious as he Is, Moonshadow could sense the spirit of the beast laying dormant within him even as a child. It wasn't until six years later that he began to reach out to this sleeping entity slumbering deep within him. At first nothing came of It, but eventually he began experiencing obscure recurring dreams. Up until one night, he awoke deep underwater with the taste of blood In his mouth. After swimming up he found himself close enough to shore and began swimming his way back. It was the first time he ever transformed, but It was definitely not the last. Later on In life he began to naturally channel the power Into controlled bestial transformations and even though the beast Inside him could not speak to him with words, It could communicate with It's feelings. So with time they both learned how to communicate with each other. Moonshadow even gave the entity their own name and eventually over time they became bonded not just by fate, but by mutual friendship. With the control he possessed over this gift he eventually learned how to shapeshift different parts of his body Into bestial counter parts at will.

Spoiler: Wereshark Form

Concentrated breathing - It's a technique that accelerates the blood flow and heart rate, which allows the body temperature to gradually rise. The Important part of this technique Is to expand lung capacity to Its fullest, because when the body receives large amounts of oxygen the blood begins to get worked up. The bones and muscles then begin to heat up. In doing so the muscles begin to get stronger. Throughout most of our training we focused solely on breathing and meditation, as strange as that sounds. But we did do a lot of heavy lifting like: pulling up against trees, pushing against trees, and unrooting big rocks by pulling them out from their foundation. When performed correctly this technique Increases the body's muscle strength, which would be beneficial to our training.

Meditative restoration - A form of meditation that completely focuses on healing one's self from within with restoration. Absolute concentration Is required for a period of time In order for the body to fully recover. We trained In this technique very often after gathering so many Injuries from the days we spent training In Tang-mo.

Meditative combat simulation -

Dragonhide - Both me and my brother spent years getting the hell beaten out of us while we solely concentrated on envisioning our bodies becoming as tough as “dragon hide” as Wu-pou put It; In order to repel back heavy blows from any part of our body. This was a necessary step In the Tang-mo martial arts In order to attain a resilient body that could deflect the heaviest of blows from almost anything. The last trial for this ability was to be stuck with a blade after a series of blows by a metal quarter-staff. If we were able to repel all of his attacks and remain uninjured by the staff, we would then be tested by getting slashed by a blade until It breaks off of our skin.

Speed - There was a lot of trial and error with this technique. Lots of running was done and then a lot of sprinting from one place to another took place. We had to meditate beforehand and then we had to get from one place to another before a certain time. If we failed this, we had to start again. So we did this over and over and over again and again. The Important part was meditating on being the fastest thing we could think of. Eventually me and my brother were able to complete the first trial. Unfortunately for us the last trial was to tag sensei Wu-Pou and this took far longer than the first trial, but eventually we both succeeded In tagging that damn monkey.

Jump - This was probably the simplest of the techniques we learned, though It was undoubtedly the most repetitious one. Every time we failed to jump up to a certain height, we had to meditate. The last trial for this was almost what you could call a death sentence. We had to jump from the edge of a very steep cliff where a bridge once stood... to the other side of the bridge that was no longer there. We were given unlimited time to focus on this trial. For If we fell a couple feet short, we would actually die. So after a week of camping out there In the mountains both me and my brother finally decided to jump together after endless training. We were both able to make It to the other side, and we pretty content with the results of our training. Wu-Pou had made It seem like our lives were on the line to push us past our limits and truthfully, that would have been the case If we had failed. Which Is exactly why Wu had camped out on the other side of the mountain as a precaution, just In case we failed. He’d probably never admit though, but regardless I knew he had been hiding out on the other side of the mountain.

Detect life - The easiest of the techniques we learned was sensing the life energies all around us. Though we were struck In the back of the head with a stick If we didn't notice Wu sneaking up on us, and we had to wear dark blind folds the whole time. Me and my brother figured that we could practice sensing each others auras by calling out how many fingers the other was holding and as a result It worked.

Tribal magic - As a child I did a lot of wandering and this one time I caught a glimpse of my grandmother; the shaman priestess of our tribe; bending the water from the sea to all around herself as she attuned herself to commune with the water spirits of the ocean. I was pretty fascinated by It and would often watch Intently as she performed rituals of all kinds. One day she caught me practicing or at the very least trying to bend the water from the sea to no avail. From that moment onward she taught me a thing or two about water magic. So now I know how to bend water to my will, but only to a small extent and It’s only when I'm close to a source of water.

Chameleon skin - Maormer Inherit a unique genetic trait In their epidermis which enables them to blend Into their surroundings. Allowing them to become seemingly unseeable, but with an exception, It will only permit them camouflage and not whatever clothes they might be wearing..


::Skills::
Skilled fighter - He's been fighting since he was a child. One of his few passions In life Is fighting; he loves fighting to an Incredibly enormous extent and has devoted most of his life to honing his talent's potential. He learned how to fight sea serpents as child and eventually traveled to Tang-mo the thousand monkey Isles with his brother to train for six years under the guidance of certain Tang-mo by the name of Wu-Pou.

Talented staff, glaive, and spear wielder - Trained for years In Tang-mo and has continued to hone those skills In Tamriel.

Skilled hunter and tracker - His grandfather and mother taught him their ways of hunting In the sea and In the forest.

Stealth - Being raised as a hunter taught him the Importance of erasing his presence and Intent. It taught him how to become the embodiment of nothing when stalking his prey. It also taught him the Importance of patience.

Supernal condition - There Is a ton of things that have contributed to the stamina and hysterical strength he possesses.

Fast learner and a quick adapter- One of his few natural talents.

A strong swimmer - He's spent most of his childhood swimming.

Parkourist/acrobat - Training In Tang-mo taught him a lot about climbing and traveling through the jungle utilizing the enormous trees and their vines to get from one place to another.

Destroying things by Inducing and deducing their weaknesses - Hunting and fighting has led him to uncovering this natural hidden talent. When It came to dealing with dangerous creatures he had to be smarter and he needed to level the playing field by observing them carefully and Inducing and deducing their weaknesses. This talent became a valuable skill In his general life and In his professions.

Has all the capabilities of a shark - Lycanthropy has many perks.

Incredible flexibility - Extreme flexibility was one of the painful requirements of training under Wu-pou, along with the strict rule of only eating fruits and vegetables.

::Equipment::
-Nights rend - A large Intricately designed glaive made from an unknown metal with a dusky-gold complexion and a sun motif design at the base of the blade. The pole-arm Itself Is around 5'11" and the blades themselves are both around 2 In a half feet long. The entirety of the weapon stands to almost 7 In a half feet. At the bottom end of the glaive Is a sort of arrow shaped six Inched blade. Nights rend or night render as some call It has the ability to emit a burning hot glow through the blades with a sort of radiant energy that’s seemingly effective against the undead and things vulnerable to heat, but other than that It's abilities are mostly unknown, as Is to Its origin whatever that may be.

Spoiler: Night render/ Night's rend

All that Is known are the stories told within the Bloodreaver tribe that tell of Dwemaorald gifting this glaive to one of the worthy warriors of the tribe long ago and since then has only been passed on to those who have proven worthy of It. Those who have proven unworthy were unable to even hold the blade, It Is even said to have burned their hands for even attempting to grasp It. A long time has passed since another warrior of the tribe as held Night render, but many have still tried to prove themselves worthy of holding It, alas no successor has come forth since the previous holder. Not until Moonshadow that Is. After his battle with the great sea serpent the chieftain of the Bloodreavers;Moonshadow's grandfather; approached him later later on that night after his wounds were treated and told him to meet him at the shrine. That night Moonshadow arrived and met his grandfather who stood by the pedestal of their shrine. He explained to the story of the weapon, Night render. His grandfather then asked him If he would dare test himself before the weapon. Moonshadow without much worry or care approached the glaive sitting upon the pedestal and lifted the glaive carefully with both hands. To his surprise, he looked back to his grandfather who seemingly did not appear as surprised by the outcome. His grandfather Instead laid both hands on his shoulders and locked a serious gaze with Shadow's... and with a silent subtle node of recognition, he walked away. With that Shadow dragged his gaze from the glaive to the stars and Intuitively knew that things were going to start changing In ways that he couldn't even begin to comprehend, but a part of him was looking forward to It.

-Light leather armor - It's light and fashionable, just the way Moonshadow likes It.

Spoiler: Armor

-A bag of holding- A bag that holds things... with a limited pocket dimension that allows him to store a few weapons and some other things like gold. As to how this enchanted bag functions according to what he was told, Is that you place your put stuff In It then It goes In, but you can only fit so much Into It and to take things out of It you must put your hand Into the bag, then you must visualize the Item you desire. When your able to do that you can pull specific Items out of the bag at will.

-Leather water skin - Obviously used for slapping people and not drinking purposes.

Spoiler: Water Skin

::Strengths::
Moonshadow has many strengths; his greatest strength though, would have to be his Indomitable resolve and his sheer force of will to rise above anything.

In the heat of battle, when Moonshadow can feel his blood boiling, he begins to give Into his Inner bestial nature and extreme bloodlust. When this happens he begins to go full berserk and no longer holds back. Instead he attacks his opponent or opponents with everything he's got without care for Injury or the risk of dying. Moments like this rarely happen; It Is only when he's faced against a worthy opponent strong enough to test his limits that his blood begins to boil with excitement. Well that’s not exactly true; his blood can boil for different reasons; like over a beautiful woman whose just his type. Nothing gets his blood fire going like a strong woman.

::Flaws::
His eyes have a way of piercing right through you and to that effect It has a way of making people, uneasy and uncomfortable.
Has no sense of moderation and has a bit of a devil may care attitude.
Moonshadow Is a bit of a sadist and depending on his mood, he can really enjoy toying with others. Though sometimes he derives pleasure from another's small misfortune. Things like a Khajiit stepping on their own tail are able to garner a roguish smile from him.
He's sometimes a little too forward.
Strong silent type and a mer of few words.
Doesn't care much for working with others and cares even less for following the commands of others.​