Here you can put your characters that have been accepted please put spaces between the sections. It makes it a hell of a lot easier to read.
Argetlam350 Do Glatem Live
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Name: Zaccar Drogoth
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Werewolf
Apperance:
Human
http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2013/292/3/5/bigby_wolf_by_mellorianj-d6r1zky.jpg
Werewolf: Big guy on the left
http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs39/i/2008/360/0/2/Werewolf_and_the_girl_by_karzrave.jpg
Magic: N/A
Equipment: Pistol with silver bullets, a few stakes
Personality: A rather serious person and first impressions can leave people thinking he is a bit of a hard ass. Really though once you get to know him he isn't so bad and has a rather caring and protective side to him and a rather good sense of humor. He is a loyal person, willing to sacrifice his life to save others if he must though at times is hesitant since he doesn't trust the other side of him, the wolf part of him that has lead him to make some bad decisions. He is partially afraid of himself though he doesn't show it on the outside but internally, everyday is a fight to remain in control and not let the fear of the wolf control him.
History: There was nothing special about his life, he grew up as a normal kid for the most part until he was twenty years of age. Him and a few friends went camping in the lovely state of Montana, just having a good time, partying it up in the woods and getting drunk in secret. On the third night of the trip though, everything changed for the worst in his life. They had been returning to camp late in the evening after hiking about the area, they heard something following them or out in the trees off the path but took no notice of it. When the made it to camp, they were about to crash for the night when the attack happened. It happened so sudden and so fast, it wasn't until the lights of a flashlight that Zaccar realized they had been attacked by something.
A nearby camp had heard some commotion and had come looking, by the time they had reached Zaccar and his friends the creature was gone but the damage was done. Zaccar was the only survivor, but barely. His body severely scarred and blood everywhere. For such severe injuries it amazed the doctors how fast he healed and even more so that the wounds disappeared rather then leaving scars. For quite some time, Zaccar wasn't right in the head, afraid of basically everything. Things didn't get better when the first full moon came either. He only remembered flashes of images of what seemed like a nightmare and the mangled corpse of a cat. He thought it was a dream until the neighbor in the apartment complex next door told him there cat was missing, and a few days later said they found what was left of it. He questioned how a nightmare could be real, and again the full moon came and again it happened. Though this time he didn't remember any form of animal being eaten, he did wonder why he awoke in the back alley of his apartment building, naked. It was a miracle he got back into the building without being noticed and he thanked the fact there were no cameras where he entered. He began to question around a bit, snooping through the internet and library looking for answers. It was only mere luck he came across the Abandoned Bar and began getting real answers finally, finding others like him and learning what he was now: a werewolf. He was dumbfounded at first, he had never been one to believe that there was a supernatural world but after the last few full moon nights he was glad to at least have some answers, as far fetched as they might of been at the time.
Jumping eleven years later, he has somewhat accepted what he is, going to the Abandoned Bar most nights after work, especially during the full moon to have somewhere safe to change. He works as an officer in the police force though only taking up most of the jobs that involve a werewolf attack which though rare, happen more often then some may think, or any other magical/supernatural offense that most officers would question what happened. He finds means to explain the occurrences off as normal events to keep the normal public from knowing the truth.So in some sense he works on the side like The Order but more closely with humans as well.
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Werewolf
Apperance:
Human
http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2013/292/3/5/bigby_wolf_by_mellorianj-d6r1zky.jpg
Werewolf: Big guy on the left
http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs39/i/2008/360/0/2/Werewolf_and_the_girl_by_karzrave.jpg
Magic: N/A
Equipment: Pistol with silver bullets, a few stakes
Personality: A rather serious person and first impressions can leave people thinking he is a bit of a hard ass. Really though once you get to know him he isn't so bad and has a rather caring and protective side to him and a rather good sense of humor. He is a loyal person, willing to sacrifice his life to save others if he must though at times is hesitant since he doesn't trust the other side of him, the wolf part of him that has lead him to make some bad decisions. He is partially afraid of himself though he doesn't show it on the outside but internally, everyday is a fight to remain in control and not let the fear of the wolf control him.
History: There was nothing special about his life, he grew up as a normal kid for the most part until he was twenty years of age. Him and a few friends went camping in the lovely state of Montana, just having a good time, partying it up in the woods and getting drunk in secret. On the third night of the trip though, everything changed for the worst in his life. They had been returning to camp late in the evening after hiking about the area, they heard something following them or out in the trees off the path but took no notice of it. When the made it to camp, they were about to crash for the night when the attack happened. It happened so sudden and so fast, it wasn't until the lights of a flashlight that Zaccar realized they had been attacked by something.
A nearby camp had heard some commotion and had come looking, by the time they had reached Zaccar and his friends the creature was gone but the damage was done. Zaccar was the only survivor, but barely. His body severely scarred and blood everywhere. For such severe injuries it amazed the doctors how fast he healed and even more so that the wounds disappeared rather then leaving scars. For quite some time, Zaccar wasn't right in the head, afraid of basically everything. Things didn't get better when the first full moon came either. He only remembered flashes of images of what seemed like a nightmare and the mangled corpse of a cat. He thought it was a dream until the neighbor in the apartment complex next door told him there cat was missing, and a few days later said they found what was left of it. He questioned how a nightmare could be real, and again the full moon came and again it happened. Though this time he didn't remember any form of animal being eaten, he did wonder why he awoke in the back alley of his apartment building, naked. It was a miracle he got back into the building without being noticed and he thanked the fact there were no cameras where he entered. He began to question around a bit, snooping through the internet and library looking for answers. It was only mere luck he came across the Abandoned Bar and began getting real answers finally, finding others like him and learning what he was now: a werewolf. He was dumbfounded at first, he had never been one to believe that there was a supernatural world but after the last few full moon nights he was glad to at least have some answers, as far fetched as they might of been at the time.
Jumping eleven years later, he has somewhat accepted what he is, going to the Abandoned Bar most nights after work, especially during the full moon to have somewhere safe to change. He works as an officer in the police force though only taking up most of the jobs that involve a werewolf attack which though rare, happen more often then some may think, or any other magical/supernatural offense that most officers would question what happened. He finds means to explain the occurrences off as normal events to keep the normal public from knowing the truth.So in some sense he works on the side like The Order but more closely with humans as well.
Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
She wears two things, her 'work' suit
and a black coat over a blue t-shirt with blue jeans and boots.
and a black coat over a blue t-shirt with blue jeans and boots.
Name: Clara Blackwood
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Magic: Sigilist.
- Sigil Tattoos: The various tattoos on her body aren't just for show. They augment her physical and natural abilities through use of magic.
Physical Enhancements
- Agility, speed, and strength.
- Enhanced vision. Able to see in low light conditions, and other vision enhancements.
- Regeneration. Ability to heal wounds at a faster rate than normal. (More serious wounds are obviously going to take longer. Fatal wounds would still be fatal)
Magical Abilities
- On each of her palms is a Sigil, that when activated, sends a fireball. Usually used in conjunction with her martial arts in short bursts
- She has studied Sigils most of her life, and can draw them easily and quickly if need be. However, she is still prone to mistakes sometimes as Sigils need to be exactly right to work properly, otherwise they run the risk of blowing up.
Other Abilities
- Clara is a skilled martial artist, and has been training since she was born in various forms of it.
Restrictions
- She can only have one ability active at a time unless she wants it to drain majorly on her stamina. Even the combination of Agility/speed/strength drains more than when its used individually. Currently, she is practicing switching quickly between sigils.
- Regeneration, as stated above can't heal fatal wounds. The more serious the wound, the longer it will take to heal and it could still possibly leave a scar. This is the most draining of her abilities. Often times, if she is using it she tends to eat a lot to keep her stamina up as it quickly drains any stored energy she might have.
Equipment:
- Sigil Armor: Her tanktop has been inscribed with sigils, giving it incredible durability. Do not mistake it for a simple piece of cloth, she made it specifically for armor purposes. It might stop a bullet or two, but it is still going to hurt like hell and probably stun her depending on where it hits.
Personality: Clara is friendly to most, though she cares little for other people and can be a bit selfish as she cares only for her own interests most of the time. This has led her to be more or less friendless for most of her life and she has relied more on herself than others. Aside from a few acquaintances that send work her way, she doesn't keep most people around for long. She's strong and independent, and dislikes asking for help. Its bad enough that she even refuses to work with people unless it's necessary. She's pretty lax about most things, but tends to have a temper once she's pissed off.
She's intelligent and cunning, and won't hesitate to use information to her knowledge.
History: Clara grew up around magic and other occult things. Her father was a skilled English Elementalist, and a skilled martial artist from Japan. From an early age, her father taught her magic. Soon, she started studying Sigils as her main path of study within the magic field. She, obviously has her fair share of mishaps, especially at an early age. Her father made sure she didn't do anything extremely dangerous however, and with proper supervision and coaching, she became skilled with writing sigils. At the same time, her mother taught her martial arts, saying that just because she could use magic, it didn't mean she didn't need to neglect her physical body either. Eventually, she combined the two schools and created her sigil tattoos at around the age of 15.
Her family, wouldn't last long however. Soon her parents became separated, though it was on civil, if not friendly terms. As she grew up, she spent the school years with her father, and the summers with her mother. It didn't bother her much, as they weren't fighting and left each other on friendly terms. When her father remarried when she was seventeen though, he sent her away to live with her mother. She hasn't seen him since then, and she loathes the woman he married.
Now, she's 24 and works as a...specialty worker. She lives mostly off the grid, though - pays in cash, walks to most places, that sort of thing. She does any sort of work that comes her way, and her price is, well, pricey. She may not do a lot of work on a regular basis, but she does work for wealthy people and has quite a few...contacts and pull with some wealthy people that would rather their secrets stay buried.
She has done some work for The Order before, but it has never been anything permanent.
MissCapnCrunch Pᴏʟɪᴛᴇ & Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ / Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
"Does it truly make a difference how you are alive my child? You are alive now, isn't that enough?"
➞ Age: 21
➞ Gender: Female
➞ Race: Human/Cyborg
➞ Magic: Charlize has found use in Elemental magic for refueling. With the price of gasoline these days, she really needed to find an alternative to buying it straight from the stations. She is still learning, and often fails in the practice, but her determination is high!
➞ Equipment: Well, she is part robot, so her own body is a piece of personal equipment. Titanium structure for the most part, some used car parts here and there, a melted down children's swing set too!
➞ Personality: Fun Loving. Adventurous. Silly. Independent. Hopeless Romantic. Restless.
➞ History: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick..Tick...
The sound of the upstairs kitchen clock had drove the man completely insane. He had murdered his daughter in a fit of rage, gave her a warning shot straight into her chest. "Charlize?" the man whimpered, leaning over his only daughter. She wasn't breathing, her tone was disappearing, her skin becoming ice. "Charli, Charli speak to me." The man became angered, blaming her for sneaking into the house, and for sneaking out of the house in the first place. Why would she have done that? She knew it was wrong, she knew it was not the right type of thing to do in the neighborhood they lived in. Why?
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.
The man ripped the clock off the wall, as it continued to tick in his hands. "I must save her!" he sobbed, putting the clock underneath his arm as he approached his daughter's limp body. He took her by the arm and dragged her. Her blood soaked the wooden floors in a deep crimson line. The man pulled and dragged, sobbing. He let her body hit every basement step as he pulled her down into his workshop, the area where he fixed junk items, and found refuge when his wife had left him 10 years ago. He leaned down and hoisted her body up onto the table with all his might, his tears and harsh words filling the dim room, and the next door neighbor's bedroom.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.
"Damn you, you son of bitch!" the man yelled at the clock, throwing it across the room into a pile of his hoarded trash. He ran over to his tool shelf, grabbing saws, drills and parts alike. He was insane. He was desperate. He was a genius. An hour went by at the very least as he worked and worked with his daughter, his only child. Her body made up of machine parts, but her face remained the same, her slate grey eyes stared back at him as he worked. "God damn you Charlize!" he screamed, why did she keep staring at him? The neighbors became more curious, and called the police. "I think Charles Cousineau is drinking again." they said, and the dispatcher knew. They had been there many times before. Eventually police swarmed the house. Arresting Charles for the murder of his daughter. The smell of whiskey on his lips. The smell of fear on his heart. "What kind of sick bastard would do this?" the chief asked, in the living room of the Cousineau house. The silence was the answer. No one knew.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.
Charlize could hear the clock in the corner of the room. Her eyes opened as the pain swept over her body. "Help" her voice rasped out, barely a whisper. "Help me." she called. The sound of the clock overpowering her voice, even though it was just a small sound. Charli stared at the ceiling in the dim basement, "Was this what death felt like?" she had no clue. Her body parts felt heavy, her memories hazy and incomplete. She found enough strength to knock a tool off the table. It was enough to alert the police upstairs, and before she knew it she was being rushed to the hospital. She didn't last long in the hospital before she was taken away by a man under the influence of Phillip Rifna, human relations leader with The Order. She belonged there now, away from normal humans, away from the past she knew. In time she began to learn elemental magic, not very well, but she was learning.
In what felt like a debt to The Order for saving her, she pledged she would help any way she could, and takes orders from whoever gives them to her. During the times before the rise of Joshua, Charlize has worked in the bar, cleaning up, sometimes taking orders, and doing some of the heavy lifting when all else has been done. She hasn't heard much to anything about Joshua, but she is prepared to do what it takes to keep all humans out harm.
AuntFlavia The Unofficial Consulting Dork
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
Name: Unknown, though he calls himself John because of his 'John Doe' hospital bracelet.
Age: Unknown, looks late twenties or early thirties.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Appearance: Slim build, average height with medium length dark brown wavy hair and blue eyes. His most prominent feature is his sharp aquiline nose.
Magic: Adept in Illusion. Mostly he can only use his magic for small things, like making a drawing appear to come to life, or making something appear that isn't there. He has been getting stronger with practice.
Equipment: None, though he does carry a pencil around with him at all times, and his keeps his old hospital bracelet with him.
Personality: John's mind is in a fragile state, though it seems like he was always a sensitive man who leaned more towards the artistic and spiritual side of life. He fluctuates between being a chatterbox and being very quiet out of embarrassment because of his struggles with remembering words. Despite this, he is very friendly with the regulars at the bar and finds them very encouraging. He loves to be around them and hates being alone. It would take a lot to make him mad, but not much at all to hurt his feelings. There is a certain wide-eyed ignorant innocence about him.
History: John remembers nothing of his life before waking up in a hospital to people asking him questions about who he was and what happened to him. He was originally found by a passer-by. He was lying in a ditch on a long stretch of highway in the dead of winter, presumably very far away from home. The good citizen called for an ambulance at once and he was taken to the nearest hospital. After an accidental display of one of his illusions, the Order soon swooped in and took him somewhere safe and away from the prying eyes of the general public. Their main interests were keeping him safe, figuring out who he was and trying to find out who had taught him his magical skills. With that they began trying to rebuild his memories with limited success. He can't remember specific names, places, or people, but some memories are implicit. For example, he already knew how to speak, but he had to re-learn the English language, though it was very easy for him learn it again. He is also very adept at drawing and he recently found out that he could play the piano very well even though he doesn't remember learning and can't read music. It isn't clear if his memories from before are gone forever or just buried. Despite his progress, it's clear that is mind was damaged somehow, sometimes he can't connect the dots and complex things confuse him. John lives and works at the bar, cleaning up the place and washing the dishes. When the Order asked if he wanted to get a small apartment of his own, he declined. John wanted to stay at the bar, since nowhere else would feel like home.
Age: Unknown, looks late twenties or early thirties.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Appearance: Slim build, average height with medium length dark brown wavy hair and blue eyes. His most prominent feature is his sharp aquiline nose.
Magic: Adept in Illusion. Mostly he can only use his magic for small things, like making a drawing appear to come to life, or making something appear that isn't there. He has been getting stronger with practice.
Equipment: None, though he does carry a pencil around with him at all times, and his keeps his old hospital bracelet with him.
Personality: John's mind is in a fragile state, though it seems like he was always a sensitive man who leaned more towards the artistic and spiritual side of life. He fluctuates between being a chatterbox and being very quiet out of embarrassment because of his struggles with remembering words. Despite this, he is very friendly with the regulars at the bar and finds them very encouraging. He loves to be around them and hates being alone. It would take a lot to make him mad, but not much at all to hurt his feelings. There is a certain wide-eyed ignorant innocence about him.
History: John remembers nothing of his life before waking up in a hospital to people asking him questions about who he was and what happened to him. He was originally found by a passer-by. He was lying in a ditch on a long stretch of highway in the dead of winter, presumably very far away from home. The good citizen called for an ambulance at once and he was taken to the nearest hospital. After an accidental display of one of his illusions, the Order soon swooped in and took him somewhere safe and away from the prying eyes of the general public. Their main interests were keeping him safe, figuring out who he was and trying to find out who had taught him his magical skills. With that they began trying to rebuild his memories with limited success. He can't remember specific names, places, or people, but some memories are implicit. For example, he already knew how to speak, but he had to re-learn the English language, though it was very easy for him learn it again. He is also very adept at drawing and he recently found out that he could play the piano very well even though he doesn't remember learning and can't read music. It isn't clear if his memories from before are gone forever or just buried. Despite his progress, it's clear that is mind was damaged somehow, sometimes he can't connect the dots and complex things confuse him. John lives and works at the bar, cleaning up the place and washing the dishes. When the Order asked if he wanted to get a small apartment of his own, he declined. John wanted to stay at the bar, since nowhere else would feel like home.
KillamriX88 Cheese Lover / Professional Cat Cuddler
Member
Seen
9 hrs ago
Name: Kaden "Kai" Greer
(Kai is his Navajo name)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
When he is human, his eyes reflect light like an animals, but conversely, when he is an animal, his eyes appear almost human, and do not reflect light as much.
Race: Human (technically)
Magic: Adept
Skin-walker: A skin-walker is a sort of witch, who uses dark magic, charms, rituals and can transform into animals. It also makes him a bit harder to kill than a normal human. For a normal wound to be fatal, silver or white ash is necessary, but otherwise a shot to the heart or decapitation will suffice.
Transformation: By performing a short ritual while wearing the pelt of an animal, he permanently gains the ability to shift into it, even without the pelt. He currently can transform into a crow, a cat, a dog, and a wolf.
Consciousness shift: Part of the skin-walker legend is that one can absorb themselves into another person, or paralyze them by looking into their eyes. Kaden cannot do this, but he can transfer his consciousness into another animal. He cannot control it, but he can see what it sees and hear what it hears, so long as it stays somewhat nearby.
Equipment:
Ritual bag: A bag of bones and dust that he can use for dark charms.
Bone darts: Darts that inflict a strong sense of fear upon the victim and leaves barely perceptible wounds.
Corpse dust: Bone dust that can poison the victim to varying degrees. Usually not fatal.
Blow gun: A simple wooden pipe for shooting darts.
Skinning knife: Just a knife for when he needs a new pelt. Also kills people fairly well if needed. Has a deer horn hilt.
Hatchet/Tomahawk: Just an axe for when he's in the woods, or needs something bigger than his knife. He can throw it with decent accuracy.
Personality:
He has a very dead-pan personality, often making very dry jokes without laughing himself. He is very laid back and slow to anger, and in a tense situation is usually the last to lose his cool. However, he is sorely lacking in empathy and while he usually can play nice, he doesn't win friends easily either. At best, he has "acquaintances." At worst, he's terribly insensitive at the wrong moment.
History:
When he turned twelve, he learned of his heritage. He was part native, and was from a lineage of skin-walkers. The dark ritual to become one was forced upon him, and his pet cat was killed in front of him, to test to see if he would be able to successfully absorb its essence and transform, and also to begin slowly twisting his emotions from being a normal, happy child to being a practitioner of darker magic. He was taught all about the rituals and dark things that native witches did... and he became quite good at it. However, he had a spark of independent thought. He swore to himself that he would commit one, great sin -- and then never again.
He killed his entire family, using the dark magic they'd taught him. In a way, it back-fired. In removing their darkness from the world, he took it upon himself, twisting himself further. He became more cold on the inside than his family had ever been. However, he ran on autopilot, continuing to work toward something better as he'd promised himself he would. He would use his horrid magic for something good, even if it isn't what he really wants anymore. Then again, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.
However, after some years passed, he found a little direction when he stumbled across certain bar filled with an entire community of people not too different from himself. Other people who had magic, weren't human, and dark pasts. He chose to stick around, hide what he was from the rest of the world, and wait until a path opened itself up for him. Maybe his chance to do good would come.
(Kai is his Navajo name)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
When he is human, his eyes reflect light like an animals, but conversely, when he is an animal, his eyes appear almost human, and do not reflect light as much.
Race: Human (technically)
Magic: Adept
Skin-walker: A skin-walker is a sort of witch, who uses dark magic, charms, rituals and can transform into animals. It also makes him a bit harder to kill than a normal human. For a normal wound to be fatal, silver or white ash is necessary, but otherwise a shot to the heart or decapitation will suffice.
Transformation: By performing a short ritual while wearing the pelt of an animal, he permanently gains the ability to shift into it, even without the pelt. He currently can transform into a crow, a cat, a dog, and a wolf.
Consciousness shift: Part of the skin-walker legend is that one can absorb themselves into another person, or paralyze them by looking into their eyes. Kaden cannot do this, but he can transfer his consciousness into another animal. He cannot control it, but he can see what it sees and hear what it hears, so long as it stays somewhat nearby.
Equipment:
Ritual bag: A bag of bones and dust that he can use for dark charms.
Bone darts: Darts that inflict a strong sense of fear upon the victim and leaves barely perceptible wounds.
Corpse dust: Bone dust that can poison the victim to varying degrees. Usually not fatal.
Blow gun: A simple wooden pipe for shooting darts.
Skinning knife: Just a knife for when he needs a new pelt. Also kills people fairly well if needed. Has a deer horn hilt.
Hatchet/Tomahawk: Just an axe for when he's in the woods, or needs something bigger than his knife. He can throw it with decent accuracy.
Personality:
He has a very dead-pan personality, often making very dry jokes without laughing himself. He is very laid back and slow to anger, and in a tense situation is usually the last to lose his cool. However, he is sorely lacking in empathy and while he usually can play nice, he doesn't win friends easily either. At best, he has "acquaintances." At worst, he's terribly insensitive at the wrong moment.
History:
When he turned twelve, he learned of his heritage. He was part native, and was from a lineage of skin-walkers. The dark ritual to become one was forced upon him, and his pet cat was killed in front of him, to test to see if he would be able to successfully absorb its essence and transform, and also to begin slowly twisting his emotions from being a normal, happy child to being a practitioner of darker magic. He was taught all about the rituals and dark things that native witches did... and he became quite good at it. However, he had a spark of independent thought. He swore to himself that he would commit one, great sin -- and then never again.
He killed his entire family, using the dark magic they'd taught him. In a way, it back-fired. In removing their darkness from the world, he took it upon himself, twisting himself further. He became more cold on the inside than his family had ever been. However, he ran on autopilot, continuing to work toward something better as he'd promised himself he would. He would use his horrid magic for something good, even if it isn't what he really wants anymore. Then again, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.
However, after some years passed, he found a little direction when he stumbled across certain bar filled with an entire community of people not too different from himself. Other people who had magic, weren't human, and dark pasts. He chose to stick around, hide what he was from the rest of the world, and wait until a path opened itself up for him. Maybe his chance to do good would come.
Name: 'Cyder'
Age: Unknown
Gender: Male
Appearance: Clicky
Race: Human (Assumed)
Magic: Necromancer
Shadow Walking; He can phase through just about everything, be it people or walls. Magic is a bit more tricky. When phasing, he vanishes entirely from the current plane of existence and enters another. Those with a beating heart, for the duration of his phasing, are unable to see or even sense him.
Death's touch; Upon touching a target, their life is stolen. Luckily though, this ability only works on those chosen for death. Cyder is able to touch other beings without fear of killing them, though occasionally objects will wither in his hands, or drain someone of a tiny bit of their energy. He has full control over what withers and what doesn't, though.
Equipment:
Apple; No one is quite sure what this apple is, but Cyder is always seen with it. He has proven that it is far more durable than any normal apple. It can bounce like a rubber bouncy ball. It does not rot.
Ring; Random old nicknack that seem to have some value to Cyder. Runes are engraved on the inside of the ring, they glow black. But otherwise, it appears to be some normal bone-etched ring.
Cloak; A large piece of black cloth that is on Cyder at all times. It changes appearance as Cyder sees fit, though the color is always black.
Personality: Cyder, like in story and rumor, is painfully quiet and observant. The world around him is under constant watch, especially the living. He finds joy in giving advice to others, wanted or not, though usually they have to ask somehow. Despite being so quiet, once someone gets him to open up, he is one of two things. Either a goofball or intensely dark and deep. There is a huge gap between the three different faces he has, luckily he rarely shows them all in a single day. He finds immense joy in jokes, though most of them tend to be horridly dark and gruesome. But in truth, when all the faces are gone and it is just himself, everything is one big joke. Nothing is taken seriously, not even his 'job'. He finds existence truthfully exhausting and holds much envy for those who are able to die.
History: Cyder was born in a small, rundown home, far from any decently sane civilization. Not even a full hour after being born, he was sold off to a necromancer who had full intentions of killing and using the infant in some horrid spell. Though by a stroke of pure luck, the necromancer changed his mind at the last minute about fulfilling the spell, rendering the child he had brought completely useless. A waste of money and space, the necromancer began to plot something else for the child he had gotten. But it would be many years until this idea would be fully formed, much to the dismay of the necromancer who had no need nor want of a child.
Somehow, Cyder survived infancy and managed to even make it into his walking years. Though these were not pleasant years either, the necromancer who bought him had no clue on how to raise a child. He often went hungry because the necromancer forgot to feed him, he had never seen a bath before, he didn't even learn how to speak correctly. And no matter how badly the necromancer beat him or scolded him, he always followed after the tall hooded figure loyally.
It wasn't until Cyder was roughly eleven that things began to change in his small, dreary world. The necromancer finally grew tired of the small 'rat' he had to care for, finally leaving him in the care of some strange older woman. By this time though, young Cyder was weary of other humans, he didn't know that not everyone was cruel or so malicious. He was so confused at her kindness, he didn't know how to react. It was odd to not be hit for accidentally knocking something over, it was strange to be allowed to sleep in a bed, it was terrifying, but nice. By the end of the first week with the old woman, he decided he sort of liked this place.
Several years passed that Cyder did not see the necromancer, but in those few short years he changed a lot. He had learned to read and write, he knew how to bathe properly, how to cook, clean, even a bit of first aid. He had grown accustomed to this calm, peaceful life and was even slowly setting goals for his future. It was a bit odd though, the old woman who had been caring and teaching him so diligently silently urged him away from such actions. And his exposure to the outside world and other humans was still quite limited, much to his dismay. All of this peacefulness though was destroyed in a matter of seconds the moment the necromancer returned to darken poor Cyder's door.
He had no choice but to follow the necromancer once again, as the man threatened the old woman and her home. Though the old lady didn't really seem all that fearful of him, in fact, Cyder was sure he saw her crack a fanged grin when he left. Going along with the necromancer was now different, Cyder now actually knew how to take care of himself, but he could only wonder what this man could want from him. And he'd find out sooner than expected. The moment they reached the deepest part of the forest, Cyder was hit with an odd weakness as he crumbled to the ground and passed out.
Cyder could hardly remember what had happened over the several years he was incapacitated. He got bits and pieces of it, but none of it was good. He had been found tied to a tree, covered in black bruises all over with various cuts and gashes. Though he was not rescued by another human, no. He had been saved by a passing werewolf who feared that the 'vampire' would die when the sun rose. He was terribly confused at first, but the moment he saw his own hands, he understood why the werewolf had caused the mistake. His skin, all over, had lost its pigment. It was no longer tanned or anything, it was so white, he could blend in with the snow if he were naked. But even the snow was an insult to this shade of white. His eyes no longer shone green, but a strange red that seemed to change between lighter and darker shades all on its own. That wasn't even his biggest dilemma.
That was all he could remember. He couldn't remember what happened to the necromancer, the old woman, or where her house was. He stayed around the area for a very short while before promptly vanishing into the depths of the still evolving world, avoiding being found while delving more into necromancy on his own.
Amaralyn Flowerchild
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
Name: Eleanor “Nora” Darby
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
She also has a few white spots on the sides of her thighs.
Magic: Adept. Nora has gained the ability to transform into a deer. This makes her, both in her deer-form as well as in her human-form, fast, nimble, and agile. This way she can move a lot easier, not only moving quicker, but she can also reach places she hadn’t been able to reach before. Nora found out that in her deer-form she seems to have a soothing effect on both humans and animals, but mostly animals. She can also call out to other deer for help, and later she will be able to call out to other animals as well. This way she can cause a stampede of animals and trample that which is threatening her.
Equipment: A Swiss army knife, for practical use mostly. She also often carries her camera with her.
Personality: Nora is somewhat serious and slightly reserved, but often loosens up after a few drinks at the bar. She is friendly to most and likes helping people out. Nora loves being outdoors, mostly hiking and taking pictures of the scenery. After a long day of work, be it her job as a general practitioner or be it hiking, she likes to sit down and relax, either at the bar, or at home, reading a book or sometimes writing something herself. She is also a bit of a dreamer.
History: Nora grew up rather happily on the countryside together with her father and older sister. Her mother had died a few days after giving birth to Nora, so sadly they never got to know each other, and thus she doesn’t remember a single thing of her. Nora only has an old photo of her, standing next to her father. Years later she would find a box with dozens of photos her mother had taken, which inspired her to start taking photographs as well.
Growing up on the countryside, Nora’s father learned her from a young age how to take good care of herself. She would often help out her father doing his daily tasks, but even more often she would be playing outside with her older sister. As she got older she got less playful and more serious. When she graduated from high school she decided she wanted to go study medicine, for which she needed to move to the city. She moved into a small flat and focused on her study, rather than socializing a whole lot. Over time she started to miss the countryside though, so when she was done with her study and had earned a bit of money working as a general practitioner, she moved back, buying a not too spacious, but still big enough place for herself on the edge of both rural and urban region. It was close to nature, yet also not too far from her job.
One day when she was about to head home, one of Nora’s colleagues asked her to visit a patient who had called and who lived in the direction of her home, just a bit further. Nora accepted the request and got into her car.
After a few hours of driving she found herself completely lost. Although the residence of the patient wasn’t supposed to be much further than her own home, she appeared to be in an isolated area. She stepped up a hill and peered into the distance. Not a single sole could be seen for miles.
Suddenly, she heard a soft rustling which originated from the bushes. Cautiously, she reached for her Swiss army knife. A tawny figure jumped from out of the green shelter. Nora flicked her knife open, defensively reaching it out in front of her, only to face the dark eyes of a deer. Surprised it didn’t run off, she stared into its calm eyes, as if enchanted. Not wanting to scare it, she slowly retreated her knife. The doe stood still for another moment, before gently stepping aside, but keeping eye contact. The animal made another few steps, then paused and looked ahead, as if it were to run off any moment. But once again, it looked at Nora, as if it didn’t want to leave her. Or maybe... as if it wanted Nora follow her? Now Nora didn’t believe in fairy tales and all that, but having no other options, she couldn’t think of a reason how following a deer could do any harm. She would switch on the headlights of her car so that, were she to get lost, she could find her way back. As she approached the animal, it leaped forward, nimbly touching the ground beneath its feet, and came to a stop a few meters ahead. Nora started to run after it, almost stumbling over the rocks and twigs, scattered over the mossy soil. The deer continued its way, stopping every now and then, as if to make sure Nora was still following. And she did. She followed the deer, its every step, its every movement, almost entranced. Then abruptly, she lost sight of the doe. Bewildered and panting she looked around, trying to get a glimpse of where the animal had gone, when a large cabin caught her eye. She paused for a moment, trying to catch her breath, before walking up to the door. She rang the bell. She could hear footsteps from inside drawing near. An elderly man opened up. “Are you the doctor?” he asked her in a soft voice. It took Nora a moment before the words of the man got to her. She was perplexed. “Yes, yes, I am,” she answered and got inside the man’s house.
Half an hour later she had done her job and was back inside her car again, on her way home. By now, the sun had started to set, and the patches of clouds that partly covered the sky had become of a warm shade of pink. Staring at the road in front of her, Nora thought over the strange event. As she pondered about it, she lost track of what was going on in front of her, when suddenly her headlights caught the flash of an animal crossing the road. She slammed her brakes on but it was too late; the last thing she saw right before she shut her eyes tightly was the vision of a deer. Then came the loud thud.
As she slowly opened her eyes, a bright light was the first thing that welcomed her. From out of the brightness, a dark figure stepped forwards, approaching her. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus her sight, but it didn’t work. She wanted to stand up, but she felt too weak. Her body hurt. The figure leaned in. A young woman with ginger hair and mist green eyes. Her eyes widened and she could now fully perceive the person in front of her; herself. She looked down at her body and saw hoofs. Her vision became blurry again, before everything turned black.
The next morning she woke up and found she was still in her car, on the same road. In front of her, no deer could be seen. Not a sign. Drowsily, she stretched a bit, before finally going home. When she arrived, the first thing she wanted to do was take a shower. She looked and felt like a mess. As she stripped down, she noticed odd markings on her thighs. She looked in the mirror. White spots. She looked down at her leg again, inspecting the markings. As she looked up again her heart skipped a beat. In the mirror was the reflection of a deer. She looked down at her legs and saw that indeed it was her.
As soon as she had turned back to her human state she called in sick. She needed to find out what this was all about, but more importantly, she needed to control it. It took her two weeks to manage to fully master it.
Not much later Nora stumbled across the abandoned bar by accident, and found relief in the people that came there. She now frequently comes to the bar after work for a sip and a chat.
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
She also has a few white spots on the sides of her thighs.
Magic: Adept. Nora has gained the ability to transform into a deer. This makes her, both in her deer-form as well as in her human-form, fast, nimble, and agile. This way she can move a lot easier, not only moving quicker, but she can also reach places she hadn’t been able to reach before. Nora found out that in her deer-form she seems to have a soothing effect on both humans and animals, but mostly animals. She can also call out to other deer for help, and later she will be able to call out to other animals as well. This way she can cause a stampede of animals and trample that which is threatening her.
Equipment: A Swiss army knife, for practical use mostly. She also often carries her camera with her.
Personality: Nora is somewhat serious and slightly reserved, but often loosens up after a few drinks at the bar. She is friendly to most and likes helping people out. Nora loves being outdoors, mostly hiking and taking pictures of the scenery. After a long day of work, be it her job as a general practitioner or be it hiking, she likes to sit down and relax, either at the bar, or at home, reading a book or sometimes writing something herself. She is also a bit of a dreamer.
History: Nora grew up rather happily on the countryside together with her father and older sister. Her mother had died a few days after giving birth to Nora, so sadly they never got to know each other, and thus she doesn’t remember a single thing of her. Nora only has an old photo of her, standing next to her father. Years later she would find a box with dozens of photos her mother had taken, which inspired her to start taking photographs as well.
Growing up on the countryside, Nora’s father learned her from a young age how to take good care of herself. She would often help out her father doing his daily tasks, but even more often she would be playing outside with her older sister. As she got older she got less playful and more serious. When she graduated from high school she decided she wanted to go study medicine, for which she needed to move to the city. She moved into a small flat and focused on her study, rather than socializing a whole lot. Over time she started to miss the countryside though, so when she was done with her study and had earned a bit of money working as a general practitioner, she moved back, buying a not too spacious, but still big enough place for herself on the edge of both rural and urban region. It was close to nature, yet also not too far from her job.
One day when she was about to head home, one of Nora’s colleagues asked her to visit a patient who had called and who lived in the direction of her home, just a bit further. Nora accepted the request and got into her car.
After a few hours of driving she found herself completely lost. Although the residence of the patient wasn’t supposed to be much further than her own home, she appeared to be in an isolated area. She stepped up a hill and peered into the distance. Not a single sole could be seen for miles.
Suddenly, she heard a soft rustling which originated from the bushes. Cautiously, she reached for her Swiss army knife. A tawny figure jumped from out of the green shelter. Nora flicked her knife open, defensively reaching it out in front of her, only to face the dark eyes of a deer. Surprised it didn’t run off, she stared into its calm eyes, as if enchanted. Not wanting to scare it, she slowly retreated her knife. The doe stood still for another moment, before gently stepping aside, but keeping eye contact. The animal made another few steps, then paused and looked ahead, as if it were to run off any moment. But once again, it looked at Nora, as if it didn’t want to leave her. Or maybe... as if it wanted Nora follow her? Now Nora didn’t believe in fairy tales and all that, but having no other options, she couldn’t think of a reason how following a deer could do any harm. She would switch on the headlights of her car so that, were she to get lost, she could find her way back. As she approached the animal, it leaped forward, nimbly touching the ground beneath its feet, and came to a stop a few meters ahead. Nora started to run after it, almost stumbling over the rocks and twigs, scattered over the mossy soil. The deer continued its way, stopping every now and then, as if to make sure Nora was still following. And she did. She followed the deer, its every step, its every movement, almost entranced. Then abruptly, she lost sight of the doe. Bewildered and panting she looked around, trying to get a glimpse of where the animal had gone, when a large cabin caught her eye. She paused for a moment, trying to catch her breath, before walking up to the door. She rang the bell. She could hear footsteps from inside drawing near. An elderly man opened up. “Are you the doctor?” he asked her in a soft voice. It took Nora a moment before the words of the man got to her. She was perplexed. “Yes, yes, I am,” she answered and got inside the man’s house.
Half an hour later she had done her job and was back inside her car again, on her way home. By now, the sun had started to set, and the patches of clouds that partly covered the sky had become of a warm shade of pink. Staring at the road in front of her, Nora thought over the strange event. As she pondered about it, she lost track of what was going on in front of her, when suddenly her headlights caught the flash of an animal crossing the road. She slammed her brakes on but it was too late; the last thing she saw right before she shut her eyes tightly was the vision of a deer. Then came the loud thud.
As she slowly opened her eyes, a bright light was the first thing that welcomed her. From out of the brightness, a dark figure stepped forwards, approaching her. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus her sight, but it didn’t work. She wanted to stand up, but she felt too weak. Her body hurt. The figure leaned in. A young woman with ginger hair and mist green eyes. Her eyes widened and she could now fully perceive the person in front of her; herself. She looked down at her body and saw hoofs. Her vision became blurry again, before everything turned black.
The next morning she woke up and found she was still in her car, on the same road. In front of her, no deer could be seen. Not a sign. Drowsily, she stretched a bit, before finally going home. When she arrived, the first thing she wanted to do was take a shower. She looked and felt like a mess. As she stripped down, she noticed odd markings on her thighs. She looked in the mirror. White spots. She looked down at her leg again, inspecting the markings. As she looked up again her heart skipped a beat. In the mirror was the reflection of a deer. She looked down at her legs and saw that indeed it was her.
As soon as she had turned back to her human state she called in sick. She needed to find out what this was all about, but more importantly, she needed to control it. It took her two weeks to manage to fully master it.
Not much later Nora stumbled across the abandoned bar by accident, and found relief in the people that came there. She now frequently comes to the bar after work for a sip and a chat.
Name:
Shitsubo ??? (Shitsubo means dissapointment)
Age:
??? (looks 20-25)
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Magic:
Necromancer:
Silent Art:
Nullifies all senses except vision. One who is unfamiliar with such a scenario becomes disorientated and takes a long time to cope. Only those with extreme skills and recover quickly, however ones with abnormally strong senses are particularly affected and cannot recover for a long time.
Shadow Walking:
He can phase through just about everything, be it people or walls. Magic is a bit more tricky. When phasing, he vanishes entirely from the current plane of existence and enters another. Those with a beating heart, for the duration of his phasing, are unable to see or even sense him.
Reaper:
His original ability, commonly known as the ‘Mind Resonator’. It is unknown to most what this means, however it is said that he has a direct contract with Death himself, of course that would be foolish wouldn't it?
Equipment:
Shitsubo uses a black sword, medium sized, with no apparent features. This black sword directly relates to his Reaper ability, however no-one knows how as no-one has seen it. Not because everyone died, he’s simply never used it before. It is also said a voice comes out of the sword in whispers, as if talking to Shitsubo. However, most just wave this off as a ghost tale surrounding him. It looks like this sword, just totally black without any markings.
Shitsubo also wears a black coat, with red tattoos engraved upon it. A lot of people assume it was made by a sigilist, however these markings are at S level, meaning he would have had to gain them from one of the 10 masters of their art. It contains a powerful anti-barrier spell that requires conditions to active. Additionally he is impervious to normal attacks to a considerable level, expertise in strength can overpower the coat. The conditions are as follows: the ability must be understood; the ability must be visually recognised. If these two conditions are not met, it is merely a fancy coat.
In addition to this, underneath his coat is a strange tattooed symbol. It is assumed to be also of a sigilist’s making, however the symbol is unknown to anyone. Shitsubo was asked to reveal its secrets before, and he only said ‘consider it a second lease on life’.
Personality:
Silent, mysterious, people mistake this for shy but in reality he prefers silence as people talk more freely near him. He has no friends, not because of his own design, but because he doesn’t seek them and no-one wants to approach him.
Once he becomes friends, a more playful and childish side of him is revealed. It’s said that this is what first attracted his wife to him, for she had taken no courter before him.
He is also intensely loyal, it is very hard to become his friend but once you are, he will never betray you.
History:
Not much is known of Shitsubo. He first appeared on the world's radar when he courted a Sorceress, one of the rare sorcerer's who survive their tragic fates. Finally, after a year of courting, he was betrothed to her. Yet on the day of their wedding, she was mysteriously murdered. The day after he dissapeared, leading people to believe the cause of her death was him. Then, some time later, he appeared at the abandoned bar asking to be accepted. Despite his status as a murderer, he was accepted into the abandoned bar. To this day, no-one knows why other then the owners of the bar, but all avoid him. Finally curiosity came over some researchers, and they decided to look into his past. As they were researching, they were led to an ancient history book that described of a man who looks exactly the same as Shitsubo. The date was 1000 years in the past. It was immediately rejected as a preposterous coincidence, yet it is uncanny how similar the description is.
Through all of this, Shitsubo has never once been asked directly.Most put it down to fear or lack of interest, however a few people notice that the air around him is somewhat different, as if harder to approach.
Shitsubo ??? (Shitsubo means dissapointment)
Age:
??? (looks 20-25)
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human
Magic:
Necromancer:
Silent Art:
Nullifies all senses except vision. One who is unfamiliar with such a scenario becomes disorientated and takes a long time to cope. Only those with extreme skills and recover quickly, however ones with abnormally strong senses are particularly affected and cannot recover for a long time.
Shadow Walking:
He can phase through just about everything, be it people or walls. Magic is a bit more tricky. When phasing, he vanishes entirely from the current plane of existence and enters another. Those with a beating heart, for the duration of his phasing, are unable to see or even sense him.
Reaper:
His original ability, commonly known as the ‘Mind Resonator’. It is unknown to most what this means, however it is said that he has a direct contract with Death himself, of course that would be foolish wouldn't it?
Equipment:
Shitsubo uses a black sword, medium sized, with no apparent features. This black sword directly relates to his Reaper ability, however no-one knows how as no-one has seen it. Not because everyone died, he’s simply never used it before. It is also said a voice comes out of the sword in whispers, as if talking to Shitsubo. However, most just wave this off as a ghost tale surrounding him. It looks like this sword, just totally black without any markings.
Shitsubo also wears a black coat, with red tattoos engraved upon it. A lot of people assume it was made by a sigilist, however these markings are at S level, meaning he would have had to gain them from one of the 10 masters of their art. It contains a powerful anti-barrier spell that requires conditions to active. Additionally he is impervious to normal attacks to a considerable level, expertise in strength can overpower the coat. The conditions are as follows: the ability must be understood; the ability must be visually recognised. If these two conditions are not met, it is merely a fancy coat.
In addition to this, underneath his coat is a strange tattooed symbol. It is assumed to be also of a sigilist’s making, however the symbol is unknown to anyone. Shitsubo was asked to reveal its secrets before, and he only said ‘consider it a second lease on life’.
Personality:
Silent, mysterious, people mistake this for shy but in reality he prefers silence as people talk more freely near him. He has no friends, not because of his own design, but because he doesn’t seek them and no-one wants to approach him.
Once he becomes friends, a more playful and childish side of him is revealed. It’s said that this is what first attracted his wife to him, for she had taken no courter before him.
He is also intensely loyal, it is very hard to become his friend but once you are, he will never betray you.
History:
Not much is known of Shitsubo. He first appeared on the world's radar when he courted a Sorceress, one of the rare sorcerer's who survive their tragic fates. Finally, after a year of courting, he was betrothed to her. Yet on the day of their wedding, she was mysteriously murdered. The day after he dissapeared, leading people to believe the cause of her death was him. Then, some time later, he appeared at the abandoned bar asking to be accepted. Despite his status as a murderer, he was accepted into the abandoned bar. To this day, no-one knows why other then the owners of the bar, but all avoid him. Finally curiosity came over some researchers, and they decided to look into his past. As they were researching, they were led to an ancient history book that described of a man who looks exactly the same as Shitsubo. The date was 1000 years in the past. It was immediately rejected as a preposterous coincidence, yet it is uncanny how similar the description is.
Through all of this, Shitsubo has never once been asked directly.Most put it down to fear or lack of interest, however a few people notice that the air around him is somewhat different, as if harder to approach.
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