El Gato Naranja

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Karlezek

_______________________________________________ LIFESPAN: ~250 years | HEIGHT: 4'6" - 5'1" | WEIGHT: ~110 lbs FREQUENCY: Uncommon | MAIN SETTLEMENT: The mountain range west of Dakora and the Shattered Isles |

DESCRIPTION ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Deep within the mountains of the world are ancient dungeons and halls, most of which are empty and devoid of life. These lands, however, used to be part of a greater realm, an empire that once called itself the lords of the mountains. This empire is now fallen, a shadow of its former self. These are, of course, the Karlezek; a technologically advanced race of humanoids that once prided themselves as owners of a vast empire. Often known as Dwarves by the other races due to their short stature, the Karzelek nonetheless possess greater strength. They are skillful artisans and blacksmiths, making some of the best armor and weapons in the whole of Deadwood. When exposed to sunlight, their naturally light purple skin becomes pale. They do not seem to become darker with continual solar exposure, and don't get sunburned. Perhaps the most well known and feared part of the Karlezek arsenal are their machines; or rather, the empty metal shells animated by sigils of magic written unto each of their joints and cogs. Like the kisha of the Augury, these silent guardians act as protectors, and in those strongholds where the Karlezek had either fled or died, some of these watchful sentinels remain, guarding the treasures of their deceased masters. These machines have become rarer these days due to the fear of magic that has spread all over Deadwood and even into the realm of the Karlezek, who had a long, varied magical tradition before and after the Cataclysm. Few are those that still possess the knowledge to create them, and fewer still are those that are willing to inherit these feared arts. A few Karlezek have resided in Exusia since before the fall.

Azariah Kravchenko

_______________________________ NAME: Azariah Kravchenko AGE: 25 RACE: Karlezek PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Mithras HEIGHT: 5' WEIGHT: 100 lbs _______________________________ "Don't look down."

Azariah Kravchenko _______________________________ The Keeper The Keeper "I only seek wealth... and friendship." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ What are you? What are you? APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Damn, everyone's so much bigger." Perhaps the first thing people think when seeing Azariah is that he’s… well, unimpressive. Short and light, he does not look like someone that could really bring a beating to anyone. Strangely enough, his hair is white, perhaps because of a birth defect, or the magic that he had immersed himself in. He keeps his hair neat in a buzz cut, though he would sometimes opt for an undercut instead. Azariah is pretty fair skinned at the day, but at the night, he reverts to a light purple. Underneath, Azariah has a rather toned body due to the hard work that he did while studying as an apprentice. For his wardrobe, he usually wears cloaks over his tunic and trousers, as he often feels cold. He seems to like black and blue the most. CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Arise, my… uh, six legged walking rock?" While at a disadvantage due to his short stature, Azariah is nevertheless a fairly competent swordsman, being able to hold his own against most opponents that would be encountered in the wilderness. He is not a true master, as it is not his focus; it is purely for defense, as Azariah is a magic wielder. In particular he is one of the few Karlezek that still knows the arts of mechanical animation; or, more properly, he had learned from someone who did. In theory, any material can be used to create a functioning animatronic; however, the actual creation of one requires sigils to be written on each working joint and cog, and each sigil has to have specific parameters of movement. The Karlezek had expedited this process by building metal shells with specific instructions on what sigils to place and where, but those are limited in number and can't really be replaced while in the middle of the wilderness. The rest of his spells are mostly offensive in nature, seeking to harm opponents. However, being simply an apprentice, they are often time consuming to cast, as the translations are rather difficult to pronounce. Most of the time, he is able to conjure balls of fire and bolts of lightning, though he rarely does this as it is too slow of a process. EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I have everything I need." Azariah has a forged steel broadsword, which is half his length. As backup, he keeps a dagger hidden inside his coat. As a magician, Azariah has a tome. He had only mastered Mechanical Animation. Speaking of which, Azariah also uses a pair of Karlezek magishells animated by magic sigils for protection. Made from steel, they have the likeness of monkeys, and their primary purpose is to protect Azariah from attack through their razor sharp claws and teeth, though he is able to control them with verbal commands. He only uses one at a time as they are irreplaceable if destroyed or lost.

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Who are you?
Who are you?

GOAL
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"I will get rich, but I will do so my way."

Unlike others, who seek vengeance against slavers or are looking for lost family members, Azariah has a far more mundane goal. He found a rigid life within the walls of Mithras that kept a strict hierarchy as the norm as boring. He also wants to shirk the responsibilities of being the heir of a clan of traders while still getting rich. He pretty much wants to see the world, even if it is one laden with chaos. After all, what good is his magic and sword training if he can't use them?

PERSONALITY
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"Don’t give me the hard jobs, damn it!"

Azariah is a laid back, carefree person, disinterested in taking up the responsibilities that have been expected of him by society. It may seem that he’s selfish, and maybe even a lazy bum, but Azariah is simply not cut out for being a master; at least that is what he tells himself. He believes in choosing his own path in life, nevermind what everyone tells him to do. However, he is loyal to a fault, at least to those that respect his life choices, and will do anything short of dying to keep a friend safe. Azariah is friendly to most, eschewing the rudeness and cynical attitude that the average rough Deadwooder shows.

Having been raised in the walled off society of Mithras, Azariah does not know the horrors as well as others; while he knows about all of them through books and stories, he is yet to face the likes of Grief Demons, slavers, and other monstrosities. He has, however, a good comprehensive knowledge on known creatures. Azariah is thus a little naive; though his optimism and continual hope for the future serves as a light in any group. He knows when to speak, and usually keeps quiet when someone is in the process of exploding.

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Why are you?
Why are you?

"Life within walls is torture."

Azariah Kravchenko was born and raised on Mithras, the child of Karlezek traders. He was told that some of their brethren came to the flying city when the queen invited the mages of Deadwood to Exusia;some of the best and brightest of the Karlezek mages left the cities of their kind to live a life of disconnection from the rest of the world. It would seem that their decision to leave was a wise one, as the world exploded, taking two thirds of the Karlkezek realm with it in the cataclysm. These Karlezek would stay on Exusia, becoming a small but wealthy community of magefolk, traders, and warriors.

Azariah grew up in relative stability within the walls of Mithras, every day of his life being spent within its halls and noble mansions. He was also given the best tutors by his parents. However, it was their intention to marry him off in an arranged marriage in an effort to keep their failing trade afloat.

He knew that this was his eventual fate as their eldest heir, and he had no intention of letting it happen. After all, it was, in his perspective, boring, tedious, and full of intrigue and the danger of assassination in the middle of the night by his own kind. What he wanted was to get to the flying city and be free of all the responsibilities of being an heir while doing whatever the hell he wants. Truthfully, he was spurred on by the mage that he studied under as an apprentice. His master, Harukou, said that life within these walls will get tedious eventually, as seeing the same things again and again was not living. Plus, sooner or later, they will have to reclaim the dead lands; no city will not last forever. No civilization ever does. They might as well go Exusia and then get rich there, and then maybe help to reclaim the lands after that. Sad thing was, Exusia only lets in those that it wants. He was, as such, resigned to his eventual arranged marriage and boring, useless life… until an advertisement showed up in the central plaza of Mithras, telling of an offer for anyone brave or foolish enough to investigate the lands, in exchange for being allowed into Exusia and gain great wealth...

It smelled of freedom.

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What else is there?
What else is there?

He is a cook, and is also skilled at celestial navigation (navigating using the stars and constellations).

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

@The Man Emperor So me and Zomb were talking about it for a few days and we've decided to decline this race. Zomb's primary problem was that they seem to be "human-lite" - basically humans but with a magic ability - and he doesn't want to set a precedent. They aren't really what we are looking for in terms of races, tbh. My issue is that magic is a strictly learned ability. I don't want to complicate things by adding nineteen different magic systems.

Look at races like the ones Maxx submitted to get a better idea of what we want.

@The Ghost Note

I'll convert them to lizardmen then

Edit: Or not

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Not this one

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Dragonborne

Dragonborne

_______________________________________________ LIFESPAN: 200+ years | HEIGHT: 5’2” - 5’11” | WEIGHT: 135 lbs | FREQUENCY: Uncommon; few Dragonborne venture beyond their capital city, Mithras. There is, however, a community of wealthy Dragonborne in Exusia. | MAIN SETTLEMENT: Mithras | In between Hope and the Sorrowfields

DESCRIPTION ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ The ancestors of the Dragonborne used to be ordinary humans, until they were turned to their current state by Mitharos and Elkaria, a pair of dragons that wielded powerful magic. These ancestors were said to have been incolcacated with the blood of dragons, granting them heightened parameters. These Dragonborne had the twin dragons as their rulers, formed a pair of city states south of modern Hope and north of the Sorrowfields named in honour of the ones that had turned them into a powerful race; Mithras and Elkrosius. These cities were centers of trade and commerce until the cataclysm that wrecked the whole world, where Elkrosius was completely destroyed, and half of Mithras was completely obliterated. Mitharos and Elkaria were both killed in the event, leaving the Council of High Lords to lead the remaining Dragonborne. The surviving half of Mithras is a shadow of its former self, but it serves as a safe haven in the wilderness, as well as a shelter for persecuted magefolk. Mithras has managed to survive the years after the cataclysm rather well, with the Council of High Lords holding the remaining half of the city together. As such, Mithras and its surrounding area has remained untouched by raiders and slavers, who fear the fierce warriors and witches of the Dragonborne. The Dragonborne, as a whole, are slightly shorter in average than baseline humans, but have greater physical strength and a longer lifespan. Dragonborne are also resistant to fire damage. They look no different to humans, except for the fact that their eyes glow a bright gold or cerulean; the colors of Mitharos and Elkaria, respectively. They usually have pale skin due to their region having constant cloud cover. Dragonborne are not well known by the other races due to their reclusive nature. Most of the time, the only thing the average person could tell about them is that they're a race of people with glowing eyes, and not much else. However, those who are knowledgeable about them know not to underestimate the ones with dragon blood flowing in their veins.

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (Roleplay Re-Booted)

Here he comes...

Mikhael Kravchenko - Son of Asclepius

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

-

Mikhael Kravchenko

-

_{"No sacrifice is too small, if it is for the better of us all.."}

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_{𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Name

Mikhael Kravchenko

Nick-Names:

Mike, Micky

Gender:

A dude

Age:

20

Birthday:

December 7th, 1999

Nationality:

Kazakhstani/Russian

Place of Origin:

Almaty, Kazakhstan

Distinguishing Features:

He is 5'9" tall and weighs 67 kilograms. He also happens to have grey eyes.

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_{𝑅𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Relationship Status:

In A Relationship

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

Partner:

Petra Swarovski

Ex-Partner:

None… yet.

Father:

Asclepius

Mother:

Lyudmila Kravchenko

Siblings:

Lev Kravchenko (adopted brother)

Legacy:

Asclepius

Pets:

He keeps a pair of small freshwater turtles.

Other:

Mikhael is particularly skilled with venipuncture.

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_{𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Personality:

♦ Caring ♦ Honest ♦ Strict ♦ Generous ♦ Temperamental ♦ Snarky ♦ Orderly ♦

Being the oldest out of two siblings in his original family, Mikhael possesses a strong sense of responsibility. As the eldest, he was also constantly pressured to reach high achievements in order for his younger brother to look at him as a good role model. As such, he is pretty strict with rules, and is sometimes labeled as a control freak due to being rather obsessed when it comes to proper organization and arrangement. However one cannot deny that when he's the one who puts stuff in order, he does so excellently; he's far better than any fung-shui expert.

Mikhael is a little temperamental, mostly due to being a close adherent to what he consider right and wrong, and is rather… ehem, frank. However, he also acts as a level voice when disagreements arise, being the proposer of compromise and middle ground. It could be said that he lacks spine to really pick a side at anything, preferring to be neutral… or be the bloody moderator. Either way, Mikhael is quite caring, though he is too embarassed to actually say it, instead showing it through seemingly begrudged actions that are accompanied with awkward blushing. He could go as far as sacrifice his own damn life, if only to make sure everyone else stays alive.

Likes:

✔ Reptiles
✔ Tea
✔ Excellent scents
✔ Books
✔ Medical topics
✔ Garlic bread
✔ Cheese
✔ Science fiction

Dislikes:

✘ Rudeness
✘ Being called Commie.
✘ People that don't wake up on time
✘ Foot fetishists
✘ Communism
✘ Spicy food
✘ Vampires

Biography:

Mikhael Kravchenko comes from the city of Almaty, Kazakhstan. He was the eldest child of Lyudmila Kravchenko, a respected doctor in Almaty's largest hospital and Asclepius, who had at the time adopted the moniker of Pavel while wandering around Kazakhstan. They had… quite an affair, and Mikhael was born from their union. His younger brother, Lev Kravchenko, were adopted four years after he was born, and being the eldest, he often assumed responsibility while their mother was busy working day and night. Mikhael grew up with a decent life. They lived in a pretty nice house in the suburbs. Not to mention that they had a nanny… but Lyudmila insisted that Mikhael take responsibilities in the house due to her business, as well as to prevent any of her children from becoming spoiled like her sister's. As a result, Mikhael became a caring albeit strict individual; traits that he seemingly got from his aunt.

Being a little bit of a prodigy with accelerated education, he got into college as a medical technology major at an age of 15, and graduated at age 19. The abilities that he gained from being the son of Asclepius were not apparent at first; after all, he wasn't the type to get into trouble, and being very healthy was not really an obvious indicator of having divine blood, at least until everyone else is dying.

A few days after graduation, a man claiming to be his father came in, asking Mikhael to come with him to a place where special individuals like himself would be safe. After all, if word got out that he's more than human, it wouldn't be long before the government decided to kidnap and dissect him again.

Mikhael was quickly sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Long Island, where he'd be placed right in Camp Half Blood. It is nice here, he thought. Some may think he's a hardass… but that's only because he's looking out for others' welfare.

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_{𝒟𝑒𝓂𝒾𝑔𝑜𝒹 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Cabin:

Asclepius

Responsibilities:

Cooking, making sure everyone wakes up at the right time; he's essentially a self appointed monitor. Oh, and he heals people that are involved in accidents, stabbing incidents, power fueled fights, and brawls.

Status:

Full Time Camper

Abilities:

Medical Intuition:
A son of Asclepius; Mikhael has vast and rather innate medical knowledge which enables him to rather easily treat others' injuries, and to create medicines and other remedies with nearly anything in one's environments (as long as it has medical potential). Because of this, Mikhael is also able to tell which things, both in the wild or in one’s urban environment, are poisonous and which are safe to ingest or to use to treat injuries.

Disease Resistance:
Child of the God of medicine, Mikhael's immunity, digestive, and other organ systems are more enhanced than that of a normal demigod, or human; and as such, he has a strong resistance to most forms of disease brought on by bacteria, viruses, or even parasites. However, this isn't to say that he cannot get sick.

Medical Sense:
Mikhael has inherited the ability to sense the health of anyone and the causes of wounds, diseases or injuries, the health history and possibly even genetic weaknesses and predispositions with just so much as a simple touch.

Venomous:
More of a defense measure than anything, Mikhael's blood is extremely poisonous and can be used against an opponent or when threatened; though in order to do so, he must cut himself open to expose his blood to others.

Form:

He's pretty slender.

Weapon/s:

Rumour has it that he bashes people's heads with a bust of Hippocrates when triggered. He also carries around a whole bunch of syringes… for some reason.

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_{𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Weaknesses:

Not a Fighter: None of his divinely inherited abilities are useful in a fight, nor does he have a propensity towards it. He could engage in a fight, sure, but he'll most probably lose against almost anyone else in Camp.

A Weakness for Blondes: He is a simp for blonde girls.

Other:

Nothing else...

Theme Song:

Colors of Love by Thomas Bergesen

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (Roleplay Re-Booted)

Corvus Helstrom

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"Um, I had just finished cleaning my cabin." Corvus looked up at Greyson, scratching the back of his head with the hand that wasn't use to consume the pizza with such gusto. "My sisters are just doing their own thing, so, I'm just kind of wandering around here, you know. Since I've got nothing better to do..."

Corvus, despite getting along with pretty much everyone, was not so good with holding a conversation, and could easily be pegged as awkward. Let's not even get to the part that English wasn't his first language, and sometimes forgets one word or another in a sentence.

Awkwardly looking down, he then noticed that his hand was... err, greasy, and realized that he might have just soiled Greyson's spotless white shirt. "Oh, smörja, I may just soiled your clothes with my overly enthusiastic greeting and pizza grease laden hand..." Corvus looked towards where his hand was placed when he hugged Greyson, and sure enough, there was a grease stain. In the shape of his own hand, no less. "I'm so sorry, Greyson, I just... ugh, what am I doing with myself..."

Being at a loss of what to say, he decided to change the subject, "So, um, the thing. With Erin. A lot of people showed to support her, no? I'm thinking of what I can do to help her... I don't want her or anyone to get... you know, burned by Aries."

Rosefell High.

Grisha Blackmore, Liberty High

Grisha Blackmore

Name

Gregory "Grisha" Salazar Blackmore

Nickames

Greg, Grish

Age

18

Gender

A MAN

Sexuality

Asexual. Never horni.

Relationship Status

No girlfriend since birth

Label

The Historian | The Gamer | A Weeb

Grade

Senior

School

Liberty High

Appearance Details

• Hair: Black (Natural), Grey (Colored) | Straight | Undercut
• Eyes: Brown; wears horn rimmed glasses at times.
• Height: 5'8"
• Body Type: While titanically overweight during elementary and kindergarten, Grisha had worked hard for the last five years, getting a decently lean body in the process.
• Clothing Style: Grisha is not picky when it comes to his wardrobe. He could wear the blackest and saddest stuff one day and then put on the happiest colors in the next. There is no real pattern to it; he picks whatever he sees first. However, he is most usually seen with a dark colored shirt and an unspoiled white hoodie.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nothing here; just virgin skin.

Personality Traits

Protective - Generous - Dedicated - Observant - Intelligent - Aggressive - Assuming - Suspicious - Warfreak

Biography

Gregory "Grisha" was born on Los Angeles, California, as the first born son of Patricia Salazar, a Filipina, and Terrence Blackmore, an attorney that owned a law firm. Their life was one of good comfort. They were not ultra elites like those casino regulars in the night life of LA, but they were rich enough to both pay off the astronomical housing and land prices in California while sending all three of their kids to good schools. Grisha grew up along a sister and a brother, both of whom he had to deal with as the eldest. To this end, he'd eventually be the nurturing, perhaps overprotective person he is today, as those two often got in trouble in their later years while he chased them around. They would, however, move to Columbus after Terrence took an offer from his uncle, who happened to be all the way in Ohio. It was for the better, anyway, as LA at night was becoming quite tempting for the kids.

For three of his high school years, Grisha attended Liberty High, becoming a decent enough student for most parents to be satisfied with. Though he just couldn't get himself to ever like anyone romantically. The feeling is simply not there, even if someone was already flirting with him. He'd find interests in subjects like histiry… and gaming. He'd even be a Twitch streamer at times. And so, high school flew on…

But just as he was about to enter senior year, Liberty High closed for unknown reasons. The only choice he had was to go to some grubby, rundown school, and he's not gonna like it so much... though he started dying his hair grey because he as no longer bound by Liberty's rules. Neat, huh?

Family

Patricia Salazar (Mother): "My mom will charge into the principal's office if she so much sees a scratch on me…"

Terrence Blackmore (Father): "When he's not in the courtroom, he's grilling."

Sasha Blackmore (Sister): "She likes ponies. I will kill you if you touch her."

Marcell Blackmore (Brother): "The gayest man alive."

Misc.

Derrick Monasterio | #F5B041

He has a pair of bearded dragons as pets.
His Twitch username is YourMomma.
He is fluent in English, Tagalog, and Ilokano.
He walks with a limp as his left leg is slightly shorter than the right.

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (Roleplay Re-Booted)

Corvus Helstrom

It had been a year since Khione had brought Corvus Helstrom into Camp Half Blood. At first, he would have found himself in an unfamiliar environment, surrounded by kids he did not know, wielding powers of godly proportions. Or, more properly, demigodly proportions. He was, at first, the quiet Swedish lone wolf that simply hung around the corner. However, as time passed, he would grow to befriend pretty much everyone else in there. At the very least, he knows every one of the other children of the gods, and they know him. The son of Khione, the only guy in the cabin of her glorious divine coldness so far. He would, it seemed, live with a pair of sisters, who were younger than him but were by far taller. Where did he get the short genes anyway? Khione was a goddess, a perfect specimen of humanity if she was human. And his dad was...well, average. A perfect balanced 5'10", just like everything should be. But he literally got the short end of the genetic stick, and was being… let's just say that Isaura and Astrid kind of make fun of him as a big but small brother. That did not make any sense did it? Ah, nevermind. As of now, he was the shortest male in Camp Half-blood, and was a favorite as an armrest for the other guys. Granted, he was fine with it, but it sometimes gets exhausting…

munch. Corvus stuffed a pizza slice into his mouth, devouring half of it in one bite. By now, he'd be known as a devourer of Italian cuisine, liking pasta and stuff like that maybe a little too much. Surprisingly, he doesn't gain any weight; perhaps the metabolism was too fast. Anyways, the cabin had been cleaned a few hours ago, as Corvus was essentially a master of keeping everything clean. He kept everything spotless, even when everyone else caused a titanic mess.

With the final slice in his hand, Corvus got out of the cabin, his right hand being a little greasy from the food. He'd walk a little, his surroundings getting a little colder than normal due to the power he had inherited from Khione. After a few moments of walking around aimlessly, he'd find Greyson, who just got out of the Hades Cabin. Bored, and maybe wanting to have a conversation with someone at this time of the day, Corvus walked up towards Greyson. He had already finished the pizza, but the distinct smell of delicious food wafted out of him. Greyson didn't like the cold, so Corvus turned off the freezing radius he exuded. Just for Greyson.

"Hey, Greyson." Corvus looked up at the other guy, speaking with a noticeable Swedish accent. "How are you…" He then gave Greyson a very warm hug. Why? No particular reason, other than he wanted to. It feels good, after all. Oh, and there's the grease...

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (Roleplay Re-Booted)

Corvus Helstrom, Son of Khione

Corvus Helstrom, Son of Khione

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Corvus Helstrom

_{"We will always move forward towards freedom."}

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_{𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Name:

Corvus Helstrom

Nick-Names:

Corvie, Corbs

Gender:

Male

Age:

19

Birthday:

January 6, 2002

Nationality:

Swedish

Place of Origin:

Kiruna, Sweden

Distinguishing Features:

It appears that he has a patch of grey hair due to poliosis.

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_{𝑅𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Relationship Status:

Single. Ready to mingle.

Sexuality:

Straight.

Partner:

None… yet.

Ex-Partner:

Natasha Fedorov, whom he had never met in real life.

Father:

Astrad Helstrom

Mother:

Leona Lungren-Helstrom (Khione)

Siblings:

He's alone.

Legacy:

Khione

Pets:

Looks like he brought in a little ferret.

Other:

He's 5'7" tall and weighs 60 kilograms.

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_{𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Personality:

♦ Eccentric ♦ Dense ♦ Sweet ♦ Sincere ♦ Passive ♦ Timid ♦ Caring ♦

Corvus is a calm and collected individual, even in the direst of situations. This Frenchman is cold and calculating when standing in the back lines of battle, but he is loud and boisterous in privacy. He is known to be a little "playful" with subordinates and equals alike as demonstrated by his laid back attitude when talking with pretty much anyone that isn't really a higher up. Contrary to his cold powers, he is quite warm to talk with, if not a little hard to relate with due to being eccentric as heck. Corvus is also quite "sweet", at least when it comes to friends and family. Plus, he's a little stubborn despite his passive nature, perhaps manifesting in the quiet refusal that he does when told to do something he percieves as pointless. He is pretty intelligent, at least when it comes to academics.

Likes:

✔ Cute, fluffy animals
✔ Pizza
✔ Lasagna
✔ Carbonara
✔ Winter
✔ Hugs
✔ Kisses
✔ Reading

Dislikes:

✘ Insects
✘ Cigarette smoke
✘ Substance abuse
✘ Dirty surroundings
✘ Spicy food
✘ Screaming
✘ Screamo rock

Biography:

Corvus Helstrom was born in the northernmost town in Sweden, Kiruna, as the only child of a disguised Khione and Astrad Helstrom. His father was a soldier, and he would often be absent due to being assigned in the sand strewn battle fields of the Middle East as a UN Peacekeeper.. However, an injury forced Astrad to retire from the military; he would then pursue online business, while also allowed him far more time with his son. Thus, Corvus would be raised in a rather, say, unique way; he was raised to be goal oriented and to have a will of metal; determination and perseverance are some of the things that would define him as he grew up. He would thus be seen with favour by most of the local people of Kiruna. Intelligent, courteous, straight A's: the perfect child in the eyes of many. He had great pride with himself, and rightly so, for he is bound to be of the honor roll of the local high school. It was in his elementary days that he developed his eccentric properties; he sometimes used a cane even though he was not an old man, and always wore black and grey. He was weird, sure, but that didn't stop the girls (and some guys, no doubt) from crushing over him.

Days would pass, and then they turned to months and then years. One day, while contemplating about the future, he found himself lowering the temperature of his surroundings; frost and snow had formed on the ground all around him. It was a strange time, too; it wasn't even the winter months yet. There was only one possible outcome, then: he now has the power of the winter; an inheritance from Khione. Between risking being dissected by the government and hiding somewhere, Corvus would be brought by Khione to Camp Half Blood, where he'd stay for most of the time. He does online schooling to continue his studies; otherwise, he's just here.

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_{𝒟𝑒𝓂𝒾𝑔𝑜𝒹 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Cabin:

Khione Cabin

Responsibilities:

Cleaning. And he is very good at it.

Status:

He's been here for a year.

Abilities:

Psychic Cryokinesis - Corvus is able to form objects out of an anomalous form of ice, whose strength varies from being as brittle as normal ice to being as durable as rock. This ability manifests primarily as cold mist that exudes from his hands, which coalesce into whatever he wishes to create. It appears that he can only create up to 50 kilograms worth at any given time, and has to 'take in' any excess ice by turning it back into mist before absorbing it. The mists could be projected as a spray, freezing hostile entities after sufficient exposure.

Cryogenic Atmokinesis - Corvus' surroundings in a radius of ten feet become colder at will, with whatever current temperature there is dropping by 10 degree Celsius.

Cryophoenix Transformation - He is able to turn into a raven sized ice phoenix at will, though he has to rest at least 20 minutes in between transformations, and could only maintain this form for up to three hours. His Cryophoenix form has sharp talons and could exhale cold air. It has a flight speed of 70 km/h, 140 if diving.

Weapon/s:

None; he makes his own.

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_{𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃}

— ۵ ۞ ۵ —

Weaknesses:

He has a crippling fear of spiders.

Other:

?.

Theme Song:

The Cryophoenix