Name: Phyl
Monster Type: Mandrake
Gender: M
Occupation: Part-time barista, part-time undergrad.
Appearance: Not to say all animated products of the earth are incapable of turning heads, but Phyl is a goddamn root, of all things, one with an elongated upper half bespeckled with thorn-like horns—or horn-like thorns—, and a bottom half like an amalgamation of a tumor and an overcooked potato, all rounded off with vilely-clawed feet. In-between sits a crooked beak full with flat, crooked teeth— and truthfully, most every aspect of Phyl can be described as "crooked" in some fashion. For the sake of brevity: he's ugly in the most inconveniently-traditional ways, from his swollen eye to his overbite; the mandrake is well-aware of this, to a distressing extent.
Weapon: N/a.
Armor: Dapper Cardigan (+.25 Def, +3 Self-Confidence) [not pictured]
Magic:-- Hema-kinesis: An uncomfortable, while efficacious, upchucking of Phyl's acidic, vegetative insides. Being that this and a cacophonous shriek are his key means of defense, it is unsurprising he tends towards a pacifist route.
-- Screamy-kinesis: The bread and butter for a mandrake. Phyl's ear-splitting scream can burst eardrums and conjure debilitating headaches.
-- Healy-kinesis: Being a plant, Phyl will recover health with access to water, sunlight, or healthy soil.
Personality: Especially to the more condemnatory, Phyl's appearance may betray a sense of balefulness contradictory to his truly sympathetic personality. Phyl would not barf on, or rupture the hearing devices of, a fly and, in the occurrence of violence or verbalized antagonism, he attempts to handle either as peaceably as he can. Phyl, without a doubt, has a way with words and an underlying empathy for other living beings, but he is overly willing to compromise with others and seems outright fearful of adapting a role of leadership with amidst a group. His evident self-confidence issues are a salient impairment of his; the mandrake possesses a dreadful fear of smiling for pictures, or even smiling at all, and Phyl's self-debilitating "humor", oftentimes, comes inches from crossing the line. Unfortunately, this only coagulates the uncomfortable aura whenever he's around.
Bio: Password: "I... haven't played any a' those, sorry. You'd think me servin' humans ev'ry day would get me used to the customs by now, but that'd obviously be too smart for me, eheh!" 
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