Dark Light

|| The School of Death ||

‘Damn’ a sudden burning rage swelled within Drakus. ‘How humiliating’ how had he let himself be so blindly distracted to make that mistake! He could only imagine the thoughts of degrading laughter running through the smug little minds of these females before him. ‘Just kill them both now.’ A voice echoed in his head.
”Shut it.” he snarled out aloud.
Lucky for him, he didn’t have to answer any more on his motive as the students became distracted by the growing winds and howling sounds.
As people all around him prematurely drew their weapons or prepped their powers, puffing out their chests and taking macho heroic poses, Drakus simply frowned and rolled his eyes.
Numbers took away the burden of responsibility making room for the cocky displays of confidence. Drakus simply used this opportunity to study his peers, or as he considered them, potential competition.

As expected it soon quickly passed, there was somewhat of a greeting, as brief and uninformative as it was. Then the crowds began dispersing onto the island.

Drakus stood proud and tall as always, that condescending glare glowing in his yellow eyes. He was not like these people, he thought to himself as he followed behind them entering into their new home. As he studied the backs of their heads he was sure they would share little in common.

As the students filled the main room and a few filtered to the kitchen. Drakus had a quick look around and maintained his stride.
He was disappointed to note the two females he engaged from earlier were also freshmen and here. As he walked through the small crowd introductions had began. People were talking of home towns and parents. Reapers and legacies. He overheard the number twelve, that meant there were eleven others for him to overcome and defeat. Well none or ten, after hearing of two with seemingly no powers.

Pushing in and possibly interrupting another, Drakus began his introduction.
“I am,” he started off upbeat and normal just like everyone one else. A fake smile painted on his lips, head and shoulders held high with insincere enthusiasm. Then his voice and interest snapped off coldly as he reverted to his earlier and usual demeanour. ”Not interested in getting to know any of you.”

He looked to Enzo @Calatrava
“If even a quarter of the people here are nearly as pathetic as they appear or sound then there will definitely not be twelve graduating, we will be lucky if they can just stay alive.”
He then turned to Ryanne @Arreyis
”And if that mutt bites me I won’t hesitate to put it down.” he warns.
Having said his piece and made himself known, Drakus was now intent to find his rooms and belongings.

|| The School of Death ||

Sorry guys, I’m gonna be ‘that guy’ for a little while.
Hopefully it will serve to keep things interesting and not upset anyone.
I’ll try have him warm up to you all soon 😁

|| The School of Death ||

Perhaps it was from being caught in his accidental gaze, or maybe it was just simply because he found her more attractive than he care to admit, either way something caused Drakus to act even more reserved and spiteful than usual.
His eyes found hers, the French girl from before, and his intense gaze tore away at any superficial pleasantries building between them. Bare and ruthless. With his voice low and cold, void of any emotion, he spoke soft and slowly. His tone reverberating with condescending arrogance.

”You are in my way.”

he said simply, giving little acknowledgement to anything or one around him.

With his words said, Drakus allows his eyes to fall back to the floor where he tries to inconspicuously scan the ground for that elusive shadow amongst the darkness... it was gone, he had lost it. Was it even ever there.
He mutters a near silent curse under his breath as he rubs the vision from his eyes.

@Double Capybara

|| The School of Death ||

DRAKUS VULL

The journey for the most part was uneventful.
As Drakus feared, the boat was filled with mostly lowly riff-raff, for that reason Drakus secluded himself in self isolation for most of the trip.

On his short scouting trip, he wore an expression of disdain, not afraid to display his feelings of those around him. That was until a French girl caught his eye, silently observing the crowds much like himself. Standing out amongst the rest of the rabble she shone like a Dimond in the rough, her stature and style recognisable. For the briefest moment their eyes met, and then the moment passed, she continued to scout the crowd and he returned to his room.

Back inside his small confined cabin, Drakus smothered any semblance of emotional recognition or acceptance with a brutal exercise regime. Eyes open or closed he couldn’t escape the nightmares slowly creeping into his vision. The room grew dark as shadows and memories danced over him. Shutting himself off to the world he separated his mind from his body and carried on.

Eventually he was broken from his physical trance when the boat shuddered. A silent curse escaped his lips as he began readying himself, once again becoming presentable. Although exiting his cabin much later than the others, he quickly and ruthlessly pushed his way through the crowd. Condescending sneers and snide remarks thrown at anyone who showed displeasure or opposed his path.

The island and oriental buildings were unlike anything Drakus had seen before, this aside he still gave very little attention to his surroundings. Here on this strange island, surround by many youths of varied talent and power, (probably in possession of more knowledge of the situation than himself, not that he’d admit it.) he saw an old familiar movement in the shifting shadows of his peers. It crept slowly across the ground and Drakus, as subtly as he could, steadily chased it.

This chase lead him to a small converging group. A blonde haired guy was talking to a girl about what was happening to his left, in front of him, above the shadow he was chasing, two girls engaged in a different conversation. It was as he overheard their words he realised where it appeared his eyes were fixed. They fell upon a short skirt flapping up in the wind. Quickly averting his gaze and looking up he noticed some familiar judgemental eyes upon him.

@Double Capybara

|| The School of Death ||

Drakus Vull

Drakus Vull

Nicknames/Alias: Drake
Height: 172cm
Weight: 75kgs
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Nationality: Polish
Hometown: Krakōw
Date of Birth: 21/01/02

Hider

Family: Nightburden
Status: Scion
Weapon of Choice: Kusarigama or Rapier & Parrying dagger

image

Magic: Tenebris Sanguine;
This shadow magic is triggered by blood. It solidifies darkness into ‘shadow stuff’, a dangerous malleable substance that can change its properties in an instant. From soft waving and stretching tentacles to high speed razor sharp projectile daggers.
To activate this power blood must be dropped into an area of shade or darkness. This power is stronger (produces stronger shadow stuff) in darker enviroments or with the spilling of more blood.

Strengths: Influenced by demons blood, he is faster, stronger and more durable than the average human, this coupled with his altered genetics and heavy strict disciplined training make him quite the formidable opponent.
Weaknesses: Fissured reality; Drakus is sometimes haunted by visions and nightmares during his waking moments. This can cause all manner of distractions and unable to believe his own eyes, this constantly causes him to question what he see’s.
Desperation and losing control; Unable to ever make anyone proud, he still fears disappointment. He has learned to push beyond his limits to prevent failure however doing so comes at a cost of drawing on the demon blood within him and giving up some self control.
Fears: Ostracisation; to be looked down upon, considered as less, pitied, laughed at.
Madness; the fear of losing control, losing the ability to think rationally, becoming overwhelmed and driven by emotion, losing any sense of self and identity, acting inappropriately or bringing himself shame, these things scare him terribly.

Hider

Personality: Cold, distant, elitist, controlling, condescending, perfectionist. These are all terms that have been used to describe Drakus, and none of them would be wrong. Self centred he cares for little else beside his stature among others. He has known little of camaraderie or friendship but experienced a life time of hierarchy and obedience.
There is no place or time for emotions and weakness in the heart of a warrior. Discipline and riggerous training will triumph in a world where the strong rule the weak and only the fittest survive. Drakus was born a survivor.

Likes:

• Order and routine.
• Lierature
• Sharp things
• Manners and etiquette
• Heirachy

Dislikes:

• Chaos
• Excuses
• Disrespect
• Weakness
• Dirt

Backstory:

Backstory - A sad tale of a cold distorted upbringing.

Drakus is more or less essentially a creation and has always been treated as so. Less a child and more the successful results of many morally questionable experiments in a long line of failures, a living standing testament to a new age of modern science and knowledge, a purpose built commodity of deliberate design and careful specification.
There was no love to be lost in his household. Sure he was looked upon with pride, but it was not pride in his own actions or achievements but instead a self pride from the viewers eyes like that of a craftsman pleased with what he produced.
Drakus could get no credit for anything he had done or achieved, instead owing it to those that overlooked him. However failures and disappointment were always his to wear alone. He was raised by ever changing nurses, constantly monitored by scientists and educated of discipline in strict military fashion. Sure he did not have to go through this alone. He had many siblings, in a sense.

None of the children in this breeding farm knew who their mothers really were but some of the kids displayed similar appearances and or abilities. In fact most did in some way or another but they were so accustomed to it, seeing hardly anyone else, they barely recognised the signs. In the end, getting close to this family wasn’t worth it. One by one they began falling sick and eventually dying or being taken away. Often there were no goodbyes, yet still that was preferential to what else was going on with the others. A madness began to sweep over a minority, pure insanity. Sure some of it was simply unnerving babble and unpredictable erratic behaviour, but as haunting as that could be it was nothing compared to the masochistic violence that some of the children burst out with. Or the sickening displays of sadism that they unawaringly stumbled upon.

But of course such a vile place could not be sustained or remain hidden forever. The powers that be shut it down. In the end, before their separation, Drakus was one of six remaining children. It is still unknown what happened to them, if they even survived at all.

Life changed for Drakus after that point. He was adopted into a wealthy and respectable family. While taught little of demons he was still unexplainably trained in the martial arts to combat them. He had a strict regiment of daily tasks and chores followed by endless hours of repetitious drills and exercise. Still, no matter how hard he was pushed, he remained grateful. For this was far better than what had come before.

One day finally sense was made of everything. All the unasked questions were answered and he learned much of the demons, his powers and the truths of the world. It also became apparent that at least one other child had survived, up until that day anyway. Defeated by a demon. Drakus was to continue his training at the school of death, the last and truest test.

Those early years of Drakus childhood still hang with him. Unable to be forgotten they were filled with the things of other children’s nightmares. Since hell had become his norm, his nightmares had to become made of something worse. Still, as they revisit him again and again, he can’t help but notice they grow stronger and deeper every year. Drakus eternally haunted and unable to ever escape them. Even now, years later he still is plagued by the same dreams as before, now they no longer even wait for him to sleep, preying upon and terrorising him even in the wake of day. A constant torment on an already fragile mind.

Hobbies/Interests: Drakus has learnt to enjoy the familiarity of repetition. Never having had time to persue his own interests he has since found old routines to become an escape from his own mind. Therefore martial practice and training is his first hobby.
When the body is done he will sharpen the mind with books of philosophy or important literature. Always striving to remain educated and of equal stature and knowledge as those of the higher circles. Less he be considered less than them or be made a fool of on conversation.
Other: Possible plot hooks -

|| The School of Death ||

:D introducing

Death school

Drakus Vull

Drakus Vull

Nicknames/Alias: Drake
Height: 172cm
Weight: 75kgs
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Nationality: Polish
Hometown: Krakōw
Date of Birth: 21/01/02

Hider

Family: Nightburden
Status: Scion
Weapon of Choice: Kusarigama or Rapier & Parrying dagger

image

Magic: Tenebris Sanguine;
This shadow magic is triggered by blood. It solidifies darkness into ‘shadow stuff’, a dangerous malleable substance that can change its properties in an instant. From soft waving and stretching tentacles to high speed razor sharp projectile daggers.
To activate this power blood must be dropped into an area of shade or darkness. This power is stronger (produces stronger shadow stuff) in darker enviroments or with the spilling of more blood.

Strengths: Influenced by demons blood, he is faster, stronger and more durable than the average human, this coupled with his altered genetics and heavy strict disciplined training make him quite the formidable opponent.
Weaknesses: Fissured reality; Drakus is sometimes haunted by visions and nightmares during his waking moments. This can cause all manner of distractions and unable to believe his own eyes, this constantly causes him to question what he see’s.
Desperation and losing control; Unable to ever make anyone proud, he still fears disappointment. He has learned to push beyond his limits to prevent failure however doing so comes at a cost of drawing on the demon blood within him and giving up some self control.
Fears: Ostracisation; to be looked down upon, considered as less, pitied, laughed at.
Madness; the fear of losing control, losing the ability to think rationally, becoming overwhelmed and driven by emotion, losing any sense of self and identity, acting inappropriately or bringing himself shame, these things scare him terribly.

Hider

Personality: Cold, distant, elitist, controlling, condescending, perfectionist. These are all terms that have been used to describe Drakus, and none of them would be wrong. Self centred he cares for little else beside his stature among others. He has known little of camaraderie or friendship but experienced a life time of hierarchy and obedience.
There is no place or time for emotions and weakness in the heart of a warrior. Discipline and riggerous training will triumph in a world where the strong rule the weak and only the fittest survive. Drakus was born a survivor.

Likes:

• Order and routine.
• Lierature
• Sharp things
• Manners and etiquette
• Heirachy

Dislikes:

• Chaos
• Excuses
• Disrespect
• Weakness
• Dirt

Backstory:

Backstory - A sad tale of a cold distorted upbringing.

Drakus is more or less essentially a creation and has always been treated as so. Less a child and more the successful results of many morally questionable experiments in a long line of failures, a living standing testament to a new age of modern science and knowledge, a purpose built commodity of deliberate design and careful specification.
There was no love to be lost in his household. Sure he was looked upon with pride, but it was not pride in his own actions or achievements but instead a self pride from the viewers eyes like that of a craftsman pleased with what he produced.
Drakus could get no credit for anything he had done or achieved, instead owing it to those that overlooked him. However failures and disappointment were always his to wear alone. He was raised by ever changing nurses, constantly monitored by scientists and educated of discipline in strict military fashion. Sure he did not have to go through this alone. He had many siblings, in a sense.

None of the children in this breeding farm knew who their mothers really were but some of the kids displayed similar appearances and or abilities. In fact most did in some way or another but they were so accustomed to it, seeing hardly anyone else, they barely recognised the signs. In the end, getting close to this family wasn’t worth it. One by one they began falling sick and eventually dying or being taken away. Often there were no goodbyes, yet still that was preferential to what else was going on with the others. A madness began to sweep over a minority, pure insanity. Sure some of it was simply unnerving babble and unpredictable erratic behaviour, but as haunting as that could be it was nothing compared to the masochistic violence that some of the children burst out with. Or the sickening displays of sadism that they unawaringly stumbled upon.

But of course such a vile place could not be sustained or remain hidden forever. The powers that be shut it down. In the end, before their separation, Drakus was one of six remaining children. It is still unknown what happened to them, if they even survived at all.

Life changed for Drakus after that point. He was adopted into a wealthy and respectable family. While taught little of demons he was still unexplainably trained in the martial arts to combat them. He had a strict regiment of daily tasks and chores followed by endless hours of repetitious drills and exercise. Still, no matter how hard he was pushed, he remained grateful. For this was far better than what had come before.

One day finally sense was made of everything. All the unasked questions were answered and he learned much of the demons, his powers and the truths of the world. It also became apparent that at least one other child had survived, up until that day anyway. Defeated by a demon. Drakus was to continue his training at the school of death, the last and truest test.

Those early years of Drakus childhood still hang with him. Unable to be forgotten they were filled with the things of other children’s nightmares. Since hell had become his norm, his nightmares had to become made of something worse. Still, as they revisit him again and again, he can’t help but notice they grow stronger and deeper every year. Drakus eternally haunted and unable to ever escape them. Even now, years later he still is plagued by the same dreams as before, now they no longer even wait for him to sleep, preying upon and terrorising him even in the wake of day. A constant torment on an already fragile mind.

Hobbies/Interests: Drakus has learnt to enjoy the familiarity of repetition. Never having had time to persue his own interests he has since found old routines to become an escape from his own mind. Therefore martial practice and training is his first hobby.
When the body is done he will sharpen the mind with books of philosophy or important literature. Always striving to remain educated and of equal stature and knowledge as those of the higher circles. Less he be considered less than them or be made a fool of on conversation.
Other: Possible plot hooks -

White Gull [Fairy Tail Spinoff ~ still accepting!]

@Reshy134

“Oh hi.” Arden replied rather flatly, his attention preoccupied elsewhere as he frantically rummaged through the near empty pastries bag he had just taken. At the current moment he was near oblivious to all else around him as his stomach grumbled loudly with consent.

_{hmm what do we have here... oooh.}” he mumbled to himself with a quiet excitement. Then all of a sudden he tore his hand from the bag and held it up high revealing a rectangular glazed pastry in triumphant victory.
“I found you!.” He exclaimed a little too loudly.

Quickly becoming aware of all those unfamiliar faces around him he suddenly shrunk into himself as his cheeks blushed and he gave a faint smile. For the first time he saw and noticed the pink haired girl in the dark green cloak, looking at him expectantly. He stumbled for a moment to recall what she had asked him.
”Oh, who am I.” he replied hesitantly repeating her question. He stared at her for a short moment, unsure if he would be incriminating himself with his answer. People often asked him that same thing but for the wrong reasons so Arden had become accustomed to not answering, it usually meant it was time to run. While he hadn’t done anything wrong here, yet, it was hard to remember all the people he had stolen from or angered. But as he stared into her mesmerising eyes he was sure he would have remember if they had crossed paths before. Either way he decided this was a safe space and besides, she looked harmless anyway, in fact, Arden found her a little dreamy. Finally regaining his composure, he swung his head to the side, flicking across his hair as he flaunted his most charming well practiced grin.

”The names Armékos Thérai,” He says proudly accentuating the foreign syllables that hint to his obvious fey lineage.
”but you can just call me Arden.” with that he gives her a solid playful wink and then brings his prized pastry up to his mouth.
With a big bite his teeth sink into the fluffy creation but before his tastebuds can be tantalised by its sweet sensation, the treat disappeared into a spray of shimmering light.

Dumbfounded, disappointed and confused Arden stood there in shock and disbelief.
”Wait! No what!? Huh.... it’s not fairrr” he cried.
His stomach grumbling once again, this time crying with a shared impatient hunger.

White Gull [Fairy Tail Spinoff ~ still accepting!]

@CelesteEste or anyone else,
Does anyone know if these pastries are magical in nature or just ordinary mundane. Curious how they were made.

Dark lights character archive

Death school

Drakus Vull

Drakus Vull

Nicknames/Alias: Drake
Height: 172cm
Weight: 75kgs
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Nationality: Polish
Hometown: Krakōw
Date of Birth: 21/01/02

Hider

Family: Nightburden
Status: Scion
Weapon of Choice: Kusarigama or Rapier & Parrying dagger

image

Magic: Tenebris Sanguine;
This shadow magic is triggered by blood. It solidifies darkness into ‘shadow stuff’, a dangerous malleable substance that can change its properties in an instant. From soft waving and stretching tentacles to high speed razor sharp projectile daggers.
To activate this power blood must be dropped into an area of shade or darkness. This power is stronger (produces stronger shadow stuff) in darker enviroments or with the spilling of more blood.

Strengths: Influenced by demons blood, he is faster, stronger and more durable than the average human, this coupled with his altered genetics and heavy strict disciplined training make him quite the formidable opponent.
Weaknesses: Fissured reality; Drakus is sometimes haunted by visions and nightmares during his waking moments. This can cause all manner of distractions and unable to believe his own eyes, this constantly causes him to question what he see’s.
Desperation and losing control; Unable to ever make anyone proud, he still fears disappointment. He has learned to push beyond his limits to prevent failure however doing so comes at a cost of drawing on the demon blood within him and giving up some self control.
Fears: Ostracisation; to be looked down upon, considered as less, pitied, laughed at.
Madness; the fear of losing control, losing the ability to think rationally, becoming overwhelmed and driven by emotion, losing any sense of self and identity, acting inappropriately or bringing himself shame, these things scare him terribly.

Hider

Personality: Cold, distant, elitist, controlling, condescending, perfectionist. These are all terms that have been used to describe Drakus, and none of them would be wrong. Self centred he cares for little else beside his stature among others. He has known little of camaraderie or friendship but experienced a life time of hierarchy and obedience.
There is no place or time for emotions and weakness in the heart of a warrior. Discipline and riggerous training will triumph in a world where the strong rule the weak and only the fittest survive. Drakus was born a survivor.
Likes:

• Order and routine.
• Lierature
• Sharp things
• Manners and etiquette
• Heirachy

Dislikes:

• Chaos
• Excuses
• Disrespect
• Weakness
• Dirt

Backstory:

Backstory - A sad tale of a cold distorted upbringing.

Drakus is more or less essentially a creation and has always been treated as so. Less a child and more the successful results of many morally questionable experiments in a long line of failures, a living standing testament to a new age of modern science and knowledge, a purpose built commodity of deliberate design and careful specification.
There was no love to be lost in his household. Sure he was looked upon with pride, but it was not pride in his own actions or achievements but instead a self pride from the viewers eyes like that of a craftsman pleased with what he produced.
Drakus could get no credit for anything he had done or achieved, instead owing it to those that overlooked him. However failures and disappointment were always his to wear alone. He was raised by ever changing nurses, constantly monitored by scientists and educated of discipline in strict military fashion. Sure he did not have to go through this alone. He had many siblings, in a sense.

None of the children in this breeding farm knew who their mothers really were but some of the kids displayed similar appearances and or abilities. In fact most did in some way or another but they were so accustomed to it, seeing hardly anyone else, they barely recognised the signs. In the end, getting close to this family wasn’t worth it. One by one they began falling sick and eventually dying or being taken away. Often there were no goodbyes, yet still that was preferential to what else was going on with the others. A madness began to sweep over a minority, pure insanity. Sure some of it was simply unnerving babble and unpredictable erratic behaviour, but as haunting as that could be it was nothing compared to the masochistic violence that some of the children burst out with. Or the sickening displays of sadism that they unawaringly stumbled upon.

But of course such a vile place could not be sustained or remain hidden forever. The powers that be shut it down. In the end, before their separation, Drakus was one of six remaining children. It is still unknown what happened to them, if they even survived at all.

Life changed for Drakus after that point. He was adopted into a wealthy and respectable family. While taught little of demons he was still unexplainably trained in the martial arts to combat them. He had a strict regiment of daily tasks and chores followed by endless hours of repetitious drills and exercise. Still, no matter how hard he was pushed, he remained grateful. For this was far better than what had come before.

One day finally sense was made of everything. All the unasked questions were answered and he learned much of the demons, his powers and the truths of the world. It also became apparent that at least one other child had survived, up until that day anyway. Defeated by a demon. Drakus was to continue his training at the school of death, the last and truest test.

Those early years of Drakus childhood still hang with him. Unable to be forgotten they were filled with the things of other children’s nightmares. Since hell had become his norm, his nightmares had to become made of something worse. Still, as they revisit him again and again, he can’t help but notice they grow stronger and deeper every year. Drakus eternally haunted and unable to ever escape them. Even now, years later he still is plagued by the same dreams as before, now they no longer even wait for him to sleep, preying upon and terrorising him even in the wake of day. A constant torment on an already fragile mind.

Hobbies/Interests: Drakus has learnt to enjoy the familiarity of repetition. Never having had time to persue his own interests he has since found old routines to become an escape from his own mind. Therefore martial practice and training is his first hobby.
When the body is done he will sharpen the mind with books of philosophy or important literature. Always striving to remain educated and of equal stature and knowledge as those of the higher circles. Less he be considered less than them or be made a fool of on conversation.
Other: Possible plot hooks -

White Gull [Fairy Tail Spinoff ~ still accepting!]

ARDEN THORN

A rustling grew in the nearby bushes, growing closer and closer. Suddenly the shrubbery split open and gave way as a wide relieved smile emerged.
A young man stepped out of the vegetation, blonde hair disheveled, cheeks blushed from panting, emerald eyes half concealed by the heavy eyelids still recovering from the recent sleep he just had.
His clothing was twisted or backwards, signifying his sudden rush. Twigs and leaves were strewn throughout his attire having caught on his clothing in his late night rush.

Taking a few steps towards the group putting himself into the clearing, he folded over putting his hands on his knees as he desperately tried to regain his breath. Between his heavy panting he began to speak on short dry breaths, still his voice held some semblance of a charming allure despite his short words.

“He.. (heavy breathing) ...ey.” He mutters, still looking at the floor “Sorry...”(heavy breathing)I’m...”(still heavy breathing)
Late.”(Soft breathing)
”Hey is that pastries?”

Arden’s eyes suddenly lit up as he stands upright and points inquisitively in the directions of the snacks. Wasting no time he heads straight for the goodies, ready to dig in and help himself if no one else objects.