Hawlin

Closed RP

Luciel made no comment as Brielle took the yams, having offered for her to take her pick rather than take them all. It mattered so little, since she'd already helped him so much that she deserved a bit extra, anyway. To finish off the joke, he knowingly replied, "Try not to mention it, I have a reputation to maintain" with a small hiss of a chuckle, forked tongue briefly flicking between his teeth. No sooner had he shouldered the pack once more than had the suggestion been offered to go to the dining hall. The mutt was thrilled by the idea of food, though as he was being led through the streets, the crowds unnerved him. He took the time to again adjust the bear head to make the disguise as convincing as possible. The thought crossed his mind of how suspicious he would seem if anyone actually caught on, though he didn't imagine it was such a large concern as long as he had an escort.

He had to admit, the town was certainly not what he had expected. Caverns and structures built within it gave a small twist to his own view of living in a cave. Monsters and men, that sort of stipulation was mostly lost to his awe. Now more than ever, he cautiously followed Brielle while taking in the scenery now that he was in the belly of the beast.
Even entering the mess hall, he was nervous what with the volume of humans and their conversations. Paranoia took him with the even slightest glance, certain he would be driven out or worse at any moment. The gripping fear had quelled the innate instinct to kill, so much so that he hadn't realized where he was being led until Brielle gestured to the table of confections which she took a few articles from before making her way off to a group. They were most certainly not his kind of people, especially with how happy and friendly they were with each other.

Rather than stand there by the table, Luciel followed suit, though paused right after grabbing a wooden plate. A second outstretched hand retracted to momentarily touch the silver of his necklace while swiftly whispering, "Bless us, lord; this bounty and the charity of its provider."
Carefully, he picked out a slice of ham, a muffin, apple...the such that was unlike what he could provide for himself. While rabbit sinew and goat blood was as savory in a stew or raw, the care that was put into the preparation of baked goods and livestock was a luxury that was impossible to simply pass up.

Stocked with as much as he'd dare take, the matter of seating presented itself. Luciel reasoned that following Brielle was probably the sensible option, since sitting alone could be done anywhere, and people seemed to know who she was well enough to respect her. 'Friends' being a foreign concept, and respect being the closest next, 'Eden', as Brielle addressed him, seemed nice enough. Among the others, Luciel couldn't be sure, but took his collection with him to also approach the group.
Awkwardly, he greeted them with a small bow before taking a seat on the bench across from Brielle. "Good morning" he said after a moment of staring at the plate, trying to decide where to start. Taking the apple from the top, he kept his head low, utilizing the bear hood to hide his eyes which were likely sharp from the nervousness at this point.

An odd sense bled through his senses. It was an oddly familiar scent he couldn't place his finger on. Lifting his head only enough to eye Adam, Luciel sniffed before lightly nibbling the fruit with his very front teeth. He reasoned that whatever the feeling was, it certainly could not be farther from his business. While the blood in the humans called to him with all of its hateful stink, he seemed almost hollow, as if he weren't even there save for a faint sweetness that was difficult to explain. Again, not his problem, no matter what it could mean.

"Miss Brielle is...showing me around town?" Luciel explained, glancing up to Brielle for confirmation.

@WhiteMoths@LadyinInk@Ktyhrea@GoodLuckTuck

Closed RP

I can have setting in a few hours.
Breaks between shifts and all. >_<

Closed RP

The talk of defending him and how it would have been a wasted gesture if he just left brought a small darkness to Luciel's heart. He wanted nothing more than to say how her gesture could have been seen as doing her good deed for the day for the sake of food for the village rather than any actual compulsion to help him. Her comment that bundled him in with demons and how his mere existence was overstaying his welcome only solidified this.
It was a bit twisted to imagine such words being the best he could hope for, though he understood that creatures like the monster who he owed half of existence to hadn't been particularly merciful towards humans. His eyes looked away from his escort, disappointed but still warm with a response of, "Pleased to meet you, Brielle..."
"And yeh, it would be best to exchange goods" Luciel agreed, looking around for direction regarding where go about fulfilling his end of the bargain, politely ignoring the growl of her stomach. The question about sweet potatoes reminded him of his crushed breakfast and lunch that Derrick had made short work of, though he wasn't about to assert himself to inquire about a replacement. Convinced it would probably be a better option to just starve until getting back home, Luci knelt once more to open the game bag and rifle through the raw produce. "Not many. It is a little tough to dig by hand," he began, holding his hands up to show the filed blunt claws as an explanation before retrieving a few yams and holding them up, "Take your pick. 'for your village' includes you, too" he joked. The faintest hint of a smile teased the edge of his mouth, though suppressed. Raw and dusty from storage, but sweet potatoes none the less.

It had felt like forever since he'd spoken so much, Luciel was genuinely enjoying the company even though he was convinced the woman hated him for god knows how many reasons.

@LadyinInk

Closed RP

With the call for archers, Luciel had lowered himself, folding his plated fingers and closing his eyes and quickly whispering a soft prayer of "Dimisi juxta verbum Domini. Ego sum." Meanwhile, Derrick had made to leave but was caught in mid gesture for Brielle to follow by the creak of a bow. Turning his head, he waved his hand to dismiss the archers while listening to her defend the mutt. "Whaaat? Come on, I wasn't going to make them shoot the beast" he groaned, rolling his eyes with an exasperated shrug and a tilt of his head in mild amusement but ultimately disappointment that swinging authority around hadn't been enough to reel the woman in.
Regardless of Brielle's command to pick up his things, Luciel remained where he was. Seeing the lack of motion from the figure, Derrick scoffed and dropped the other bag, letting a few potatoes spill out since the mutt obviously wasn't going to react the way he'd hoped. "I'm not the one with a weapon drawn on a comrade" he hissed, narrowing his eyes for a second. Turning his head, slightly, he took note of the audience before barking, "That thing still has no place here!" and storming off, refusing to acknowledge the threat of Goran being told of the incident save for a dismissive wave. Derrick was confident that little would come of it other than a stern talking to since trained humans in fighting condition weren't something to simply discard.
Such was the state of the world where even the uncouth had their purpose.

Soon after he left, Luciel looked up and then to Brielle without a word. Quickly, he collected the spilled goods and loaded himself back up with the bags. All in all, it went a bit smoother than usual since the guards normally took his supplies, bags and all. Whoever the woman who stood up for him was, she was certainly cut from a different cloth. "Suns save you, miss" Luciel offered with a deep bow, thankful she turned away to lead him into town. Adrenaline wracked his thoughts and instinct had edged out a slight edge to the claws on his shaking hands. Following closely, he readjusted the bear-head of his cloak to hopefully look a bit less conspicuous before returning his hands to their folded state around the silver of his necklace.
His grip on the metal stilled the tongue that lashed behind clenched teeth, a side of him thrilled by the experience and howling damning thoughts of peeling the man's flesh from his bones. The howls of instinct grew in vividness, though softened in strength like a daydream he fought to wake himself from. Practice eased the process, and his thoughts returned to his surroundings and the alluring aroma from the mess hall that wafted through the town.

The eyes of onlookers drawn by the commotion were a bit much for him, used to living a solitary life outside the walls. "Fair miss. Somewhere I can leave these? I do not need tools if I am overstaying my welcome" Luciel explained, giving her a reason to cut his visit short since he was still understandably worried about the guard at the gate and how many more in the crowd or walking the streets might be like him. He almost jumped with a sudden realization, looking up as his voice gained purchase to say, "Pardon! Fair miss, I...was never told your name."

@LadyinInk

Closed RP

Luciel continued in double pace, refusing to look back and even assuming a hunched stance with the hope of either escaping the area of aiming to deflect a blow with a bag of vegetables before the woman spoke. It wasn't a greeting, but instead an acknowledgement of his destination which stopped him dead in his tracks in mid stride. The faint glint of reflections of shadows caught with sharpening pupils looking into the untouched snow knew the motion the woman made after her feet landed behind him. "I only have produce..." he replied to her question voiced as a statement, acknowledging her question and explaining himself in the same instant. "...To trade" his explanation continued, hoping his status was apparent. He dared not draw the bent dagger to offer an example for fear of it being taken the wrong way after hearing the click of bow and arrow.
Humans in such a position would call his charity 'indentured servitude' or 'protection pay'. Without having ever met a representative of the town, Luciel simply hoped his actions would let himself be known enough to actually enter the city...maybe even have audience with the king. For what reason was his thoughts alone, but all of these thoughts raced through his mind along with the notion to run if it weren't for the woman's assertion to walk with him.

Unsure how to react at first, Luciel simply walked on in step with the woman. His demeanor appeared meek, though his free hand gripped the small silver cross. Softly, shapeless words whispered from the mutt who turned his head enough to observe the guards at the gate nearby. "Luciel...Luciel Lumiere" he simply said, assuming the woman had no interest in his story or any kind of chat by her tone. She was there because she needed to be there. Still, nervousness broke his composure for a brief moment as he neared the front gate.
"What do you believe?" his whispered with a flicker of a forked tongue between fangs as he tilted his head down to let the bear skull obscure most of his face.
____________________________________________________________

"Oh, just in time" One of the guards sighed, sniffling a bit as their eyes went from the cloaked figure to Brielle and then the bulging sacks the cloaked figure carried like a beast of burden. Though the demonic blood fueled a nightmare of muscular strength, it was wasted on toting what would take almost three fully grown men a day to haul. The gesture was beyond the two men at the gate who had been tormented by the smells rising from the mess hall for the last few hours of their shift. Even the archers along the wall were on edge upon seeing the prospect of food, a few even knocking arrows in impatient anticipation to be relieved by the next shift to have at breakfast. Freshly cooked produce mixed with leftovers?

"Goooood morning, Brie" One of the guards at the gate chirped, going so far as to offer a casual bow. Derrick...rotated to the gates from his night shift. He was skilled with a sword and held duty to paramount, he knew all about Luciel and the disguise like most of the guard did. "I guess your hunt was successful!" he chuckled, one hand on his sword as he lowered himself to Luciel's level. Luciel, meanwhile, turned away just slightly enough to earn a glare from the veteran. "And let me guess, you think a few packs of goods will get you something. Aye, mutt?" Derrick cooed, tilting his head while Luci shifted the weight on his shoulders. "I...I need a new trowel" Luciel whispered, edging a step forward and falling to a knee to open the flap of his game bag and reveal the prime produce.

Derrick looked back to the guards of the walls who tensed their bows while he leaned in to rifle through the potatoes. Luciel kept his head lowered and turned until the man abruptly stopped, lifting a hand caked in a squished potato. It was soft, one of the ones on the top in the crate. Crushing it let out a small wisp of steam and Luciel's blood ran cold as he looked up after hearing the sound, eyes accidentally making contact with Derrick's

They were baked.
He'd put yesterdays leftovers into the crate to keep them fresh for lunch with just a bit of heat and fat. Some crushed spices and it was...nothing, it didn't matter anymore once he saw the look in the guard's eyes. He hadn't expected to break his tools and had gotten caught up in emotion to the point of forgetting what he threw in the pack.
It didn't matter, since it was enough of an excuse that Derrick finally had fuel.

"You need to know your place, mutt! Look at this shit!" Derrick exclaimed in spite of Luciel reaching and offering a confused and panicked "No! Please, it was an accident, I-"
But Derrick shouted over the halfbreed, "Offerings of peace!? And you bring us-" he started, reaching into the bag for the next slightly steaming potato and lifting it high before crushing it, "-rotten garbage? Who do you think you are, you accident!? It's steaming with bacteria, for fuck sake!"

"They-...they're baked..." Luciel offered in disbelief that this was happening, growing pale as snow until Derrick took ahold of the straps and planted a boot to his chest to peel the packs from them and kicking them a ways down the small slope. "Baked with parasites at this point..." Derrick spat, quickly being interrupted by Luciel who shrieked, "I just need tools! I will bring you anything you want!"

Derrick looked back, a pack in each hand. "I have a lot to sort...Brielle?" he commented with a wink before dropping a bag to lift a hand. "Archers!!" he barked, Luciel only able to watch in horror as four...six...eight?
Archers drew their bows waiting for the command to fire and execute the 'sabatour'. They looked unsure, wondering which of them would be the first to loose an arrow and give them a reason to. A few even looked to Brielle, aware of who she was and hopeful that she could shed some light on the issue since it was no secret that Derrick was a bit of a dick even to his fellow man.

@LadyinInk

The Marauders (A new Adventure)

We'll have a nice number of people in on this, so we can get an IC up and running soon! :D

@Jones Sparrow

Yaaaay...

Closed RP

Getting up and ready

Repth...

Pulling shimmering golden strings, Luciel mended the halves of his constructed attire back into place while taking a moment to stomp the boots properly into place. With a yawn, he threw himself onto his feet from the cot he'd constructed against the inner wall of his cave. Monsters lived in caves, right?
Well, a year of construction and planning, periods of digging carved out a small portion of a hill and built out a ways with fallen logs. Layers of sod upon tattered pelts from hunted game held up the weight of snow and small plants that already sought to claim the addition to the hill. Furnishings were nothing spectacular, a chimney with a muffled top to hide smoke bore host to a hooded fireplace where a grate sat suspended above a dead pile of coals. Crates jigsawed together without nails held various produces which Luciel stirred with a shrug, picking out the better selection of radishes, carrots and onions. Though he knew Sanctuary could handle itself, the garnishing ration he had to offer was meant to make his trip to town worth just that much more.

Pushing a bear pelt aside to check the entryway, it seemed like the potatoes were ripe for the picking and he set to work with dagger in hand, abusing the instrument of destruction for the sake of busting out the fresh root veggies. In the process, the handle tilted with a creak and Luciel quickly withdrew to find the tarnished and half-rusted dagger bent after trying to heave-ho a rock. It honestly wasn't quite the way he intended to start the morning, requiring him to run a thumb along the silver cross of his necklace before messily sheathing the blade. The grit caught until he slammed it in with a noisy crunch and a growl in response, slamming a fist into the dirt and splintering one of the prized legumes.
Simply frowning, he stood and brushed the dirt from his current haul while walking back inside to dump it in a game bag along with a few more from personal reserve. There would always be more, anyway.

Before leaving, he pulled on his crafted bear pelt unlike the messy hide that covered the entryway. Belting and sections reserved to slip his antlers in made it seem like the pelt of a fiend, ironically disguising what he was...well, to anyone who didn't already know.

The bear cloak easily kept Luciel warm due to its size and how he had it belted in three sections. Laden with the game bag and backpack full of root vegetables, he set off through the forest in the direction of the waking villiage and its light which slowly faded from torches being lit and snuffed in the morning twilight.
He'd been so lost in his crunching footsteps and listening for other sounds, he almost hadn't noticed the woman perched up in a tree if it weren't for the shadows his downward gaze happened upon. Curiosity took him for a moment long enough to almost make eye contact with them before turning his head back down, not willing to draw attention. Still, he did his best not to be rude, offering a small and awkward bark of "G-good morning!" to Brielle before continuing on his journey.

She looked armed, something Luciel was aiming to avoid at all cost; engaging in social niceties with an armed human alone in the woods, especially while toting supplies. He suspected lone humans to be creatures of advantage, having no knowledge of hunters, and picked up his pace in slight fear of being robbed or worse.

@LadyinInk

Closed RP

Luciel

Name - Luciel K. Lumiere

Age - Appears early 20s (Likely late 20s)

Breed - Halfbreed (Fiend bloodline)

Appearance

Luciel stands at 5'10 with thick shoulder-length blonde hair and hazel eyes. Clean and smooth complexion save for freckles. Luciel sports four horns as well as the start of branching antlers, these are kept loosely bound with long strips of cloth which hold an array of symbols and Latin phrases painted in blood. The phrases depict a wide variety of prayers, though the symbols meld together like their own shapeless language which many suspect is demonic script.
Wide pupils constrict vertically into cat-like slits rather than simply narrowing, and reverse in reaction to darkness. Ironically, Luciel is far from a fan of bright light for this reason as it steals color from his vision in return for exceptional sight in low light settings.
Luciel speaks with as little mouth movement, accentuated upper and lower K9 fangs only hinting to the vicious maw behind them. With elastic properties to his facial skin around his double-jointed jaw, the rows of teeth continue another inch back. A bite from Luciel would be equally as horrifying as painful.
Lastly, slender fingers are armored especially around the tips with pale claws. The real oddity is how clean and filed they're kept, leaving them smooth and blunt to the touch...though they have a nasty habit of rapid growth back to razor sharpness if not tended to as religiously as Luciel keeps them.

In a slightly androgynous way, Luciel could be considered beautiful if the eye is willing to look past their monstrous features.

Luciel prefers an attire that resembles cloth, though is silken smooth. Form fitting though humble in its color resembling dried blood with his hues of faded crimson and charcoal black. The shawl worn over the suit holds an addition resembling a collar of burnt silver with a similar fastener linked to a ring around his shoulders.
The suit, itself has no pockets and the lower section integrates built in boots with flat 2-inch boot heels. It's unclear how this attire is put on or taken off, though the silver collar appears to be independent of the ensemble.

Pic

Personality

The quiet type, Luciel keeps to himself as he is wholly aware of what he is mostly out of fear of humans. This could be considered a predisposition, though his understanding nature reflects the notion to instead paint the situation as an unwillingness to unnerve humans with his appearance...and behavior.
Somewhere in the wasteland, Luciel found what some know as 'God', and his faith pulled him back from the sadistically feral blood that burns in his veins. Indefatigable purpose, empathy and a goal to aid the ailing currently staves off the monster that screams to maul humans and devour their flesh at every given second of every day. Because of this, his worship is obscenely odd and involves acts akin to the live sacrifice of animals, prayer/meditation, dancing in the moonlight (rarely naked) and 'sealing' (entering a trance to scribe the script into strips of cloth which adorn his horns and antlers).
Getting past his quirks, Luciel is a fan of company, though is a man of few words or facial emotions but is eager to serve human guests. His sense of humor can be seen as inappropriate or dark at times, but he means well and simply hasn't had much interaction with humans.
However, his greatest flaw is a vow of pacifism which some would see as his most honorable quality; an unconditional refusal to take life. Though he is far more than capable of defending himself and others with his qualities that separate him from humanity, the idea of drawing blood and being lost to bloodlust is a risk he refuses to take.

Bio

The events leading up to Luciel's birth are detailed in ways that have no business being recalled in text. A young woman bore the child of a horrific demon, a process that killed her in the process, leaving her older brother in possession of an abomination that spat in the face of God and Man. However, the small monster was still the last shred of family he had left. Whether it was this realization or simply beholding the unholy bridge between mankind and demons, he was driven into what the rest of his tribe described as madness. While he was ordered by the elders to dash the monster upon rocks and be done with the nightmare, he resisted and foolishly fled with everything his arms could carry, his or not.

My father was a good man. He taught me about the world and how we were the children of the earth and were born to live in fear. How to hunt in spite of my protest, how to harvest crops from the unbroken world...how to hide. I was great at hiding. We would play games where I would hide in the forest for days and father couldn't find me! It was in the woods where I truly learned how to play hide-and-seek with the beasts. Many ran from me, but the biggest one!
The biggest one had horns higher than I could reach! It had three eyes and fangs as big as my arms with HUGE claws! It was so cool! It roared so loud it shook the trees and my own shriek barely made the grass quiver, though that was probably the wind. I wanted it to make the sound again, to stay and tell me what else it knew...but it just...left.

It was years later that I realized how they all leave...
My father was my uncle, some madman who abandoned me in the woods time and time again to be eaten by the beasts who instigated my life. I learned this from an old man wandering the wastes when he found me over my uncle's corpse. Knife still in his hand and slashes across his arms and throat. The old man seemed to know him. More surprisingly, he knew me, told me how I was the child of the devil who killed dozens of those he loved. After an old word used to name the monster, the old man named me 'Luciel' before handing me a silver crucifix, saying that it would protect me.
Truly, he did not care what became of me, or even himself from the look in his eyes. He simply lost too much to have a handle on his old life. I followed him for a distance with everything my arms could carry and whatever I could fit in uncle's backpack in spite of his shouts to leave him be or what books he threw at me.

I...just didn't want to be alone. Even if it meant being at a distance and hated.
Weeks in, the man relented and taught me of the books he carried, the hope in the pages and its message for mankind and the mankind within me. He told me the truth of the world, and each syllable made me hate the man who had lied to me, stole me from my home and abandoned me in the woods countless times.
The old man also taught me about forgiveness...and gratitude. Without the evil and sacrifice of one man, I would have been dead before my eyes even opened. Regardless of the decade that followed and my life before, the few weeks I spent with the old man made me feel a part of something, as though I belonged.

Shouting matches with beasts, my first kill to protect the man...I understood prayer and it saved me from what I had almost become. I never wanted to be lost to the madness that left me in fits of manic hysteria like some rabid animal. I learned that believing in something had more power than what the true 'nothing' could actually provide. So after my trials and seeing the man disappear into the waterfall of sanctuary from afar, the old questions stung for only the moment it took for me to swallow and steal my resolve and begin building a shelter.

Do I believe in God?
No.

Humans are their own gods. Monsters only have demons.
And I made my choice of which one I wanted to be.

Mahjikose

The Fiend blood that runs through Luciel gave him an innate skill in dark magic, though through conviction and faith, the darkness was bent across its own spectrum of physical manipulation, giving birth to light magic. This light magic has few but powerful spells focused on mending and protecting.
While Luciel wields these 'miracles', he is well aware of their origins. Demons bent the material plane to exact fear and devastation upon mankind in ways he seeks to undo through the base spell's understanding.

Repth

Luciel's most powerful and frequently casted spell. The translation roughly comes out as 'Loom'.
The intent is to stitch organic matter back together by binding wounds with seemingly golden threads and imbuing flesh with radiant energy which forces the body to quickly heal wounds at speeds that can be visibly observed. Though the whole casting may take anywhere from a few seconds to a minute depending on the severity of the wound, this spell has the capability to mend bone and knit muscle together to the extent of potentially reattaching severed limbs.
- This spell will not restore blood loss.
- Only good for one wound at a time and requires both hands and concentration.
- Can be used to mitigate damage from poison by forcing the victim's body to heal through the poison's effect until it is worked out of the body, naturally. This process can take a long time and is anything but pleasant.
- Therapy from the spell can ease back pain and arthritis brought about by aging, but cannot cure cancer or other diseases that have reemerged and now limit the human life span.

Keits

A more diverse form of 'Repth' that is less focused, though the general nature grants surprising benefits. Translated as 'Inspire'.
The expelled energy finds its way into nearby targets in a burst to swiftly boost metabolism with the buffer of magic, granting a significant hike to stamina, endurance and strength. While a side effect enhances the body's natural healing process, this is hardly enough to matter in the heat of combat.
- Good for moral as it temporarily sates fatigue.
- Requires both hands to channel and for targets to remain within 30ft for full effect.
- Doesn't so much bolster strength as it does allow fighters to put everything into every swing with little recovery.

Hian

A self-defense spell which vaguely translates to 'Burden'.
While will and spirit can carry a heart as far as legs wish, the spell is the closest to the darkness that Luciel dares to venture. The spell causes natural acids to build up in muscles at an alarming rate by hindering muscle's metabolism rates. The effect quickly tires victims and subjects them to cramps from continued strenuous activity such as running or fighting. The spell cannot be made fatal, and its result heavily depends on the actions of the afflicted.
- Can be cast with one hand, allowing two targets at once.
- Accumulation of amino acids in muscles cause targets to tire 5-10 times as fast. This does not target the heart or lungs but simply persists through concentration until canceled or the target collapses from their muscles simply failing to hold them up any longer.
- Luciel takes no pleasure in the use of the spell, and it is used mainly in self defense to dissuade pursuers or attackers.
- Highly ineffective against ranged attackers who simply need to pull and release a bowstring.
- Highly effective against attackers who need to get close with heavy armor and weapons.
- Spell cannot be focused with both hands to increase the effect. The spell magically stops a bodily function, not reverse it.
- Hearty targets can resist the effect for longer.
- Will probably just piss off greater demons.

Misc
- Usually ignored by some demons such as Fiends which he has a...strange...understanding with, even though they're regarded as one of the more vicious and merciless of beasts.

-Unarmed save for a blunt dagger he uses to harvest wild produce as well as an 'ancient' silver crucifix passed down in his family...and tough antlers, horns, an array of sharp teeth and claws (assuming he lets them grow).

Closed RP

Luciel

Name - Luciel K. Lumiere

Age - Appears early 20s

Breed - Halfbreed (Fiend bloodline)

Appearance

Luciel stands at 5'10 with thick shoulder-length blonde hair and hazel eyes. Clean and smooth complexion save for freckles. Luciel sports four horns as well as the start of branching antlers, these are kept loosely bound with long strips of cloth which hold an array of symbols and Latin phrases painted in blood. The phrases depict a wide variety of prayers, though the symbols meld together like their own shapeless language which many suspect is demonic script.
Wide pupils constrict vertically into cat-like slits rather than simply narrowing, and reverse in reaction to darkness. Ironically, Luciel is far from a fan of bright light for this reason as it steals color from his vision in return for exceptional sight in low light settings.
Luciel speaks with as little mouth movement, accentuated upper and lower K9 fangs only hinting to the vicious maw behind them. With elastic properties to his facial skin around his double-jointed jaw, the rows of teeth continue another inch back. A bite from Luciel would be equally as horrifying as painful.
Lastly, slender fingers are armored especially around the tips with pale claws. The real oddity is how clean and filed they're kept, leaving them smooth and blunt to the touch...though they have a nasty habit of rapid growth back to razor sharpness if not tended to as religiously as Luciel keeps them.

In a slightly androgynous way, Luciel could be considered beautiful if the eye is willing to look past their monstrous features.

Luciel prefers an attire that resembles cloth, though is silken smooth. Form fitting though humble in its color resembling dried blood with his hues of faded crimson and charcoal black. The shawl worn over the suit holds an addition resembling a collar of burnt silver with a similar fastener linked to a ring around his shoulders.
The suit, itself has no pockets and the lower section integrates built in boots with flat 2-inch boot heels. It's unclear how this attire is put on or taken off, though the silver collar appears to be independent of the ensemble.

Pic

Personality

The quiet type, Luciel keeps to himself as he is wholly aware of what he is mostly out of fear of humans. This could be considered a predisposition, though his understanding nature reflects the notion to instead paint the situation as an unwillingness to unnerve humans with his appearance...and behavior.
Somewhere in the wasteland, Luciel found what some know as 'God', and his faith pulled him back from the sadistically feral blood that burns in his veins. Indefatigable purpose, empathy and a goal to aid the ailing currently staves off the monster that screams to maul humans and devour their flesh at every given second of every day. Because of this, his worship is obscenely odd and involves acts akin to the live sacrifice of animals, prayer/meditation, dancing in the moonlight (rarely naked) and 'sealing' (entering a trance to scribe the script into strips of cloth which adorn his horns and antlers).
Getting past his quirks, Luciel is a fan of company, though is a man of few words or facial emotions but is eager to serve human guests. His sense of humor can be seen as inappropriate or dark at times, but he means well and simply hasn't had much interaction with humans.
However, his greatest flaw is a vow of pacifism which some would see as his most honorable quality; an unconditional refusal to take life. Though he is far more than capable of defending himself and others with his qualities that separate him from humanity, the idea of drawing blood and being lost to bloodlust is a risk he refuses to take.

Bio

The events leading up to Luciel's birth are detailed in ways that have no business being recalled in text. A young woman bore the child of a horrific demon, a process that killed her in the process, leaving her older brother in possession of an abomination that spat in the face of God and Man. However, the small monster was still the last shred of family he had left. Whether it was this realization or simply beholding the unholy bridge between mankind and demons, he was driven into what the rest of his tribe described as madness. While he was ordered by the elders to dash the monster upon rocks and be done with the nightmare, he resisted and foolishly fled with everything his arms could carry, his or not.

My father was a good man. He taught me about the world and how we were the children of the earth and were born to live in fear. How to hunt in spite of my protest, how to harvest crops from the unbroken world...how to hide. I was great at hiding. We would play games where I would hide in the forest for days and father couldn't find me! It was in the woods where I truly learned how to play hide-and-seek with the beasts. Many ran from me, but the biggest one!
The biggest one had horns higher than I could reach! It had three eyes and fangs as big as my arms with HUGE claws! It was so cool! It roared so loud it shook the trees and my own shriek barely made the grass quiver, though that was probably the wind. I wanted it to make the sound again, to stay and tell me what else it knew...but it just...left.

It was years later that I realized how they all leave...
My father was my uncle, some madman who abandoned me in the woods time and time again to be eaten by the beasts who instigated my life. I learned this from an old man wandering the wastes when he found me over my uncle's corpse. Knife still in his hand and slashes across his arms and throat. The old man seemed to know him. More surprisingly, he knew me, told me how I was the child of the devil who killed dozens of those he loved. After an old word used to name the monster, the old man named me 'Luciel' before handing me a silver crucifix, saying that it would protect me.
Truly, he did not care what became of me, or even himself from the look in his eyes. He simply lost too much to have a handle on his old life. I followed him for a distance with everything my arms could carry and whatever I could fit in uncle's backpack in spite of his shouts to leave him be or what books he threw at me.

I...just didn't want to be alone. Even if it meant being at a distance and hated.
Weeks in, the man relented and taught me of the books he carried, the hope in the pages and its message for mankind and the mankind within me. He told me the truth of the world, and each syllable made me hate the man who had lied to me, stole me from my home and abandoned me in the woods countless times.
The old man also taught me about forgiveness...and gratitude. Without the evil and sacrifice of one man, I would have been dead before my eyes even opened. Regardless of the decade that followed and my life before, the few weeks I spent with the old man made me feel a part of something, as though I belonged.

Shouting matches with beasts, my first kill to protect the man...I understood prayer and it saved me from what I had almost become. I never wanted to be lost to the madness that left me in fits of manic hysteria like some rabid animal. I learned that believing in something had more power than what the true 'nothing' could actually provide. So after my trials and seeing the man disappear into the waterfall of sanctuary from afar, the old questions stung for only the moment it took for me to swallow and steal my resolve and begin building a shelter.

Do I believe in God?
No.

Humans are their own gods. Monsters only have demons.
And I made my choice of which one I wanted to be.

Mahjikose

The Fiend blood that runs through Luciel gave him an innate skill in dark magic, though through conviction and faith, the darkness was bent across its own spectrum of physical manipulation, giving birth to light magic. This light magic has few but powerful spells focused on mending and protecting.
While Luciel wields these 'miracles', he is well aware of their origins. Demons bent the material plane to exact fear and devastation upon mankind in ways he seeks to undo through the base spell's understanding.

Repth

Luciel's most powerful and frequently casted spell. The translation roughly comes out as 'Loom'.
The intent is to stitch organic matter back together by binding wounds with seemingly golden threads and imbuing flesh with radiant energy which forces the body to quickly heal wounds at speeds that can be visibly observed. Though the whole casting may take anywhere from a few seconds to a minute depending on the severity of the wound, this spell has the capability to mend bone and knit muscle together to the extent of potentially reattaching severed limbs.
- This spell will not restore blood loss.
- Only good for one wound at a time and requires both hands and concentration.
- Can be used to mitigate damage from poison by forcing the victim's body to heal through the poison's effect until it is worked out of the body, naturally. This process can take a long time and is anything but pleasant.
- Therapy from the spell can ease back pain and arthritis brought about by aging, but cannot cure cancer or other diseases that have reemerged and now limit the human life span.

Keits

A more diverse form of 'Repth' that is less focused, though the general nature grants surprising benefits. Translated as 'Inspire'.
The expelled energy finds its way into nearby targets in a burst to swiftly boost metabolism with the buffer of magic, granting a significant hike to stamina, endurance and strength. While a side effect enhances the body's natural healing process, this is hardly enough to matter in the heat of combat.
- Good for moral as it temporarily sates fatigue.
- Requires both hands to channel and for targets to remain within 30ft for full effect.
- Doesn't so much bolster strength as it does allow fighters to put everything into every swing with little recovery.

Hian

A self-defense spell which vaguely translates to 'Burden'.
While will and spirit can carry a heart as far as legs wish, the spell is the closest to the darkness that Luciel dares to venture. The spell causes natural acids to build up in muscles at an alarming rate by hindering muscle's metabolism rates. The effect quickly tires victims and subjects them to cramps from continued strenuous activity such as running or fighting. The spell cannot be made fatal, and its result heavily depends on the actions of the afflicted.
- Can be cast with one hand, allowing two targets at once.
- Accumulation of amino acids in muscles cause targets to tire 5-10 times as fast. This does not target the heart or lungs but simply persists through concentration until canceled or the target collapses from their muscles simply failing to hold them up any longer.
- Luciel takes no pleasure in the use of the spell, and it is used mainly in self defense to dissuade pursuers or attackers.
- Highly ineffective against ranged attackers who simply need to pull and release a bowstring.
- Highly effective against attackers who need to get close with heavy armor and weapons.
- Spell cannot be focused with both hands to increase the effect. The spell magically stops a bodily function, not reverse it.
- Hearty targets can resist the effect for longer.
- Will probably just piss off greater demons.

Misc
- Usually ignored by some demons such as Fiends which he has a...strange...understanding with, even though they're regarded as one of the more vicious and merciless of beasts.

-Unarmed save for a blunt dagger he uses to harvest wild produce as well as an 'ancient' silver crucifix passed down in his family...and tough antlers, horns, an array of sharp teeth and claws (assuming he lets them grow).

Obligatory post, though LadyinInk gave me the OK in Private Messages.
>_<

EDIT: Not the greatest first post, but just wanted to throw something out there to get started and establish the character's presence. Everyone else seems to have run off with eachother, and the GM is just sitting there alone in the woods on the outskirts of town.
Seemed like a good idea to act and look weird around a hunter on my way to town. @_@;

Closed RP

Hi! :U

I messaged my CS to LadyinInk since its a bit odd. Just wanted to make sure I touched all bases instead of just posting it and embarrassing myself.
x_x

*Goes about reading the IC*