WIP. I'll accept myself later. Going to be out for 5-7 hours. [hider=Christmas Halvost - Arbiter - Bleeding Heart] [color=6ecff6][h3] ℕ 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 : [/h3][/color] [indent]Christmas Halvost[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝔸 𝕘 𝕖 : [/h3][/color] [indent]18[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] ℍ 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 : [/h3][/color] [indent]157cm[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝕎 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 : [/h3][/color] [indent]52kg[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝔸 𝕡 𝕡 𝕖 𝕒 𝕣 𝕒 𝕟 𝕔 𝕖 : [/h3][/color] [indent][img]http://i.imgur.com/KcZZWch.jpg?1[/img] He's tiny for a guy and likes wearing casual T-shirts and shorts, contrary to what the above photo suggests. He does look like that when he's got his karategi on, though he doesn't usually include the ribbon. That picture was taken before he had a chance to take it off. The blue ribbon is persistently a part of any ensemble Christmas puts together and he rarely takes it off outside of showers, sparring, and the like.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] ℙ 𝕖 𝕣 𝕤 𝕠 𝕟 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪 : [/h3][/color] [indent]Christmas is an honest person, and frankly terrified of the world at the present moment. For all that he practices karate, he sucks at it and would much rather sit quietly somewhere with his PS Vita playing some kind of visual novel or dating sim game (because he sucks at all the other genres of video games--actually, he sucks at making decisions in VNs, too, but at least the gameplay isn't demanding). He enjoys being in the company of others--but not actually socializing. Something about the atmosphere of having people interacting around him, but not actually with him calms him down a lot during periods of time when he's thinking too much about the state of the world and panicking internally. He's scared of being a subnatural. He's scared of Dreamcatcher, the Precursors, Cat's Cradle, all of it. He's especially scared of the future, where the world, as topsy-turvy as it is, could implode if someone got a power that finally broke reality or something. When he's at his worst, he'll just curl up in a corner somewhere and wrap his arms around his legs, taking deep breaths until he finally calms down. Despite the extremes of his irrational (are they really that irrational?) fears, Christmas doesn't know how to emote on the other end of the spectrum: anger. He's never been truly angry his entire life, having grown up in a family that smited angry words and thoughts from the start. No expression of anger was allowed in the household, because anger was bad and anger led to violence. Every other emotion was acceptable, but he always received apathy and negligence in return for any outbursts he had a child. So Christmas learned to stop being angry. Now he channels all of what should be anger into fear and uses the interpersonal connections of those around him as a salve for the imbalance in his expressions of emotions. If the world around him could just keep moving on, maybe he could, too.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] ℍ 𝕚 𝕤 𝕥 𝕠 𝕣 𝕪 : [/h3][/color] [indent]He left the house himself one day. That house where the sun was supposed to always shine and lightning was never allowed to strike. If you asked him, Christmas wouldn't be able to tell you why he left. He just did. Woke up in the middle of the night one day and almost cried over something he couldn't remember, another day of being happy leaving him as anxious as he was terrified. His parents had never talked about reporting him to any authorities ever since his white mark appeared across his right temple, but they also hadn't allowed him to leave the house. So that cold August night, he left. It didn't take long to find a 24/7 liquor store and it didn't take long for the owner to call the police in. Christmas simply stood in the doorway of the store as the man gibbered fearfully over the phone, and he didn't move until the police came and hauled him away with strange cuffs. The last thing he remembered before waking up on the truck to USARILN East was smiling at the officer who tranquilized him, offering a quiet "Thank you" before losing consciousness.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝕄 𝕒 𝕘 𝕚 𝕔 : 𝔹𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥[/h3][/color] [indent]Christmas's blood heals others. It heals slowly for now and requires larger amounts for larger wounds, but so long as the person drinks it, they receive a steady regenerative effect for 15 minutes. It's not rapid for now and it takes ages to close up larger wounds (unless the person returns to Christmas and drinks even more of his blood) running off one dose of the effect alone, but dosages can be compounded for a faster effect. Just remember Christmas needs his blood to live, too, and will pass out if drained too often during battle. While under the effects of his blood's restorative properties, Christmas and whoever's used his blood are wreathed in a light, filmy veil of slightly opaque magic, like glass was melted down, stretched out and wrapped around someone's torso like a sash. Christmas's regenerative effects also heal and remove damage from less obvious causes such as poisons and particles. As a last resort, he can pour his blood on an injury to have it heal wounds, but this method is far less effective at the moment and can only manage superficial healing.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝔻 𝕣 𝕖 𝕒 𝕞 : [/h3][/color] [indent]It was a quiet place in the middle of a crowded shopping mall--a tiny oasis of peace surrounded by the scents and sounds of a world repaired. He was happy here--truly happy here, and he was content to watch the movement of the crowd as they flowed around him without acknowledging him. A cat stepped into his little space and purred around his ankles, rubbing its lithe body against his legs for a long moment. Christmas noted that it was limping. He bit a droplet of blood into existence on his thumb and leaned down to let the cat lick it. When it was done, the leg had healed and even the cat's fur looked glossier and smoother. It meowed at him before walking back into the crowd, the tangle of feet swallowing up its form almost instantly. Christmas looked at his finger. The wound was already gone.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] ℕ 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 𝕞 𝕒 𝕣 𝕖 : [/h3][/color] [indent]How they fucking screamed. His family first and their inability to see past sunshine and rainbows. How they writhed as he smeared his blood across their faces, fury and hatred wrapping itself like a vise around his hammering heart. Yes, this was the emotion they had refused to cater. Rage. It burned where he touched them, the blood like acid to their skin, and going even further--poisoning them, seeping into their nervous systems and bones, melting and breaking down the essential components of their biology. "Fuck you," he whispered to their deteriorating bodies, watching silently as they lost all semblance of human form and congealed into a mass of bubbling remains on the floor.[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝔸 𝕨 𝕒 𝕜 𝕖 𝕟 𝕚 𝕟 𝕘 : [/h3][/color] [indent]Arbiter[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝔸 𝕣 𝕞 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕥 𝕤 : [/h3][/color] [indent]xxx[/indent] [color=6ecff6][h3] 𝕋 𝕙 𝕖 𝕞 𝕖 𝕊 𝕠 𝕟 𝕘 𝕤 : [/h3][/color] [indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOWFKeUzrYI]Drugs[/url][/indent] [/hider]