[Hider=Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.]
[Center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/392257844256440322/966332245189230612/25bc8ae5ef28d1ca54f9822d965286fc.png[/img][/center]
[Center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/392257844256440322/966334902758944768/Screenshot_20220411-154142_Instagram.jpg[/img][/center]
[Sub][Center][sub][color=7b5d92]Height:[/color] 5'5" | [color=7b5d92]Weight:[/color] 140lbs | [color=7b5d92]Eye Color:[/color] Dark Brown | [color=7b5d92]Hair Color:[/color] Black Shadowy Tendrils[/sub][/center][/sub]
[Center][color=7b5d92]"With great power comes the great need to take a nap"[/color][/center]

[color=7b5d92]Appearance:[/color] Ermes isn't the tallest kid, standing at a mere five foot five, with a thin wiry frame that came from years of lean meat and rice. Only now those foods have been supplemented by the scraps he was able to find on the streets of Wilree. His skin is pale and cold much like the full moon on a clear night sky, serving only to further accentuate his dark features that litter his body such as eyes that seem to replicate an eternal abyss. Looking into them one could swear that they stretch on forever, filling one with a sense of dread as if staring into a polished sphere of obsidian. Though his eyes are sometimes hidden by the of umbral tendrils that cover halfway down his face. His abnormality clear and apparent in an apathetic display of shifting black Aether that is in a permanently disheveled state. 

As if his features weren't enough to dissuade people from talking to him, small scars etched his skin as reminders of his past. Passer-bys might think he was one to pick fights and win, though that couldn't be farther from the case. Only two scars were visible on his face, one placed on his right cheekbone, a crooked mountain blemishing his porcelain skin. The other was hidden slightly underneath the left jawbone. The rest of the marks he kept hidden by clothes, a dark brown leather jacket with a fur lined collar who's sleeves only came down three quarters of the way, and a slim black shirt with an embroidered skull in the center. He rarely was seen with either of them off, trying hard to hide the scars while adding a bit of bulk to his frame. 

[color=7b5d92]Name:[/color] Ermes De Luca

[color=7b5d92]Age:[/color] 16

[color=7b5d92]Gender:[/color] Male

[color=7b5d92]Classification:[/color] Genesian: Creation

[color=7b5d92]Abnormality:[/color] Hair is a dark Shadowy mass of Tendrils

[color=7b5d92]Personality:[/color] Solitary to a fault, Ermes prefers the company of the dead more over than those of the living. He doesn't mind being in the presence of them, nor idly chatting by if need be or working together. More so he feels that those around him are constantly judging him by what they see and not by who he is. He was always a quiet kid growing up. Trying to stick to himself and family having been the first Aetherborn in generations to be born within his village. Some viewed him and his appearance as ill tidings, others as their savior. As if having an Aetherborn within their ranks would stave back the Sahagin menace that plagued them. He hated both views, one placed too much weight on his shoulders while the other made him feel unwanted. 

Since the passing of his parents he'd only further created that divide. Visiting their graves whenever the chance allowed it and telling them about his progress in life, telling them that he is OK. Ermes has the bad habit of using his powers to create spectral visions of his parents when he's talking to them. Holding the conversation for as long as he can feel his power coursing through the illusions until they fade into a mist before his eyes. He's certain a few of his co-workers have seen him do it, noticing the wide berth they began to give him afterwards. Besides that, Ermes has a habit of picking up and keeping animal bones he fines. Fashioning them into jewelry or other odd things as a way to pass the time. If he finds a full skeleton, he has the tendency to linger and study it. Trying to replicate the design with his magic in order to get more accurate creations.

[color=7b5d92]Bio:[/color]
Ermes came from a small coastal village by the name of Lucania. There he learned how to fish using a variety of methods, as well as how to make nets for casting, and how to properly prepare fish. He had a normal upbringing, save for the yearly raids his village was plagued with. Every year around the same time the Sahagin came to gather bodies. They would slaughter those they could and drag them back towards the depths of the sea. Foreign aid would arrive in time to help drive them back, asking the citizens who couldn't fight to take shelter and hide. Through the cracks Ermes would watch as he saw the soldiers in glistening armor drive back the oceanic forces, growing to idolize them to some extent. However he wasn't always so lucky. There were a few occasions in which he'd be spotted, the long claws of the Sahagins slicing his arms or face as they attempted to grab him just before being saved by the good Lady M or her associates who would later tend to his wounds. Ermes had grown accustomed to this way of life, having lost friends or other members of his village as the years went by.

When he was fourteen he had set out on the dock in the early morning mist, casting his line out into the sea, while the rest of his village was sound asleep. Ermes was at peace in the cold quiet morning, feeling his line dip down as he caught a large bite. He began pulling on the line, trying to get his catch when a large fin finally broke the surface. Large beady eyes broke the water soon after as a small army of Sahagin began to follow in tow. Ermes dropped his rod and scrambled back towards his village, screaming for help as he tried to warn them all of the impending attack. The Sahagin had come sooner than expected, trying a stealth attack at the early hours when everyone else should be asleep. There was no foreign aid this time, the village had to fend for itself, as Ermes bolted home in an attempt to grab his sword. 

Ermes had been training how to fight, wanting to no longer be helpless in the eyes of their captures. Now that the time had come, his hand trembled as he grabbed onto his sword. He came out to a full on battle, many were already being dragged towards their watery graves, others fighting valiantly to save their small village. He started running towards the fray when two bodies dropped near him, knocking him down underneath their corpses as a small window formed just big enough for him to see out of. Their dead weight was more than he could push off, suffocating slowly under the pressure as he heard a familiar voice scream. His father had fallen protecting his mother, watching his body get dragged as his mother's throat was slashed. Ermes began to shake in fear, he had to get out, had to leave. He began to push against the bodies, afraid of being found beneath the pile. As he pressed upwards he managed to get one hand free before they fell down upon him again. He took a shaky breath, closed his eyes, and held his arm out curling his fingers towards the sky as he began to construct a large ribcage that pushed off the corpses. Ermes began to crawl out from under the ribs, allowing him to break free as he bolted away from the village, sword in hand. 

From there Ermes traveled towards the nearest city. Half a day's journey in, he set up a small unmarked grave for his parents, offering a prayer for them and telling them how sorry he was that he couldn't help. He prayed to Irigan, begging that their souls move on to the celestial realm. He spent that night sleeping by his parents grave, gathering the strength to make the two day journey to Wilree. When he arrived in the lower district of the city, he was immediately swept away by its size. He'd been once before, but the memory was faded and hard to recall. He had no real direction, had hardly eaten in three days, and was riddled with exhaustion. Perhaps that was why he was approached, why he seemed like such an easy mark. A kind stranger had asked him where his parents were, what his story was, and upon finding out he was an orphan with no home, he was offered a place to stay and food to eat so long as he worked. 

The years went by and Ermes was still doing the same old thing. He wasn't rising in the ranks within his service, doing simple fetch quests or placing packages in locations to be retrieved. Nothing more than a glorified messenger boy with no real purpose. He'd tried to ask for promotions but the twins never budged. He wasn't ready according to them, and Ermes was beginning to get tired of that mindset. Luckily for him his line of work branched out beyond the city, and so when he'd heard of a bounty house that offered more fulfilling work, Ermes jumped at the chance to do so. He could do his job with The Mist on the side of fulfilling bounties and gaining some more strength and training so that he'd never feel that helpless again.

[color=7b5d92]Likes:[/color]
[list][*]Chocolate
[*]Sweet Fruits and Berries
[*]Deserts
[*]Bones
[*]Ghosts
[*]Catacombs and Graveyards[/list]
[color=7b5d92]Dislikes:[/color]
[list][*]Fishing
[*]Water
[*]Sahagin
[*]Monstrous Fights
[/list]
[color=7b5d92]Habits:[/color]
[list][*]Traces his finger over his scar when trying to make a decision
[*]Bites his lower lip when nervous
[*]Impatiently taps his fingers, or fidgets with the pommel of his sword[/list]
[color=7b5d92]Inventory:[/color]
[list][*]Black sword
[*]Dark Brown Leather jacket with fur lined collar
[*]Black embroidered shirt
[*]Deck of playing cards
[*]Tarot Deck
[*]Lock Picking kit
[*]20 copper[/list]
[/hider]