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4 yrs ago
Current Merry Christmas boyos, don't forget to, like, be a good person and stuff. Also start thinkin of a new years resolution you'll actually go through with.
2 likes
5 yrs ago
Status update: staying up all n8ght fuckin sucks and procrastination is a vile temptress.
1 like
7 yrs ago
4 months into this hole 'being a responsible adult thing' and I've come to a conclusion: It sucks and I want to go back to the days where I didn't have to plan out my game time.
1 like
7 yrs ago
Was supposed to be productive tonight. . . will try to be productive in the morning
4 likes
7 yrs ago
Taking a short break from posting till Monday/Tuesday, hopefully will feel more creative and less brain-dead

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Most Recent Posts

@BlessedWrathYe, I even had an follow up message that specifically stated that I wasn't intending to be rude, but I wasn't sure if it was needed(and as I said before, I had just woken up, so my ability to string words together was not at it's best.)

@MatthiasAngelI think that, in my tired state, I read the tone of comment as somewhat accusatory, though of what I had no clue. That was probably the main reason for my response being a bit more irritated/defensive then I meant it to be.
@MatthiasAngelsorry if that came across as a bit rude. I was just a bit confused by the purpose of the observation, as well as a bit tired due to answering when i literally just woke up.

I didn't mean to offend or anything
@MatthiasAngelPlatinum blonde is a lot different then dirty blonde though, like, almost exact opposite side of the blonde spectrum. I don't get where you got weight from, since i didn't specify it. The chance of them being the same weight is pretty low given that Jaden's a guy and all.
It's kinda rambleing at points because it's late. Gonna fix it up tomorrow night, but ye, here's my new idea.

@NuttsnBoltsQuestion:How long has it been since the end of the Great War? I'm guessing anywhere from 2-3 years, but i want to be certain


“Quote Here.”


N A M E
Lazulin Mulciber

A G E
22

O R I G I N
Homeland and Locale if applicable.

V I S A G E
Description of appearance.

P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S
Laz is generally a fun-loving soul who enjoys playing a good prank or three on those around him, using his wit and charm to lower people's guard before striking with certain humiliation. While most of his jokes can be considered in the name of fun, he does have a tendency to go a tinge too far at times, especially if the target in question has done something to irritate or anger him recently. Laz's temperament can best be described as that of a low burning flame, in that he isn't the type to go over the top with his anger, but instead holds a grudge against the offender in question until he feels like they either have proven themselves worthy to be forgiven, or he has been able to enact an appropriate punishment upon them.

When it comes to the current government, however, you'll find few others who hold such a deep-seated and burning hatred for them as he does, So great is this anger, as well as his desire for vengeance, that he treats everyone involved with the system to be corrupt until proven otherwise, and often has little hesitation in dealing out his own brand of justice on them for their supposed crimes, be they present of future ones. While he has yet to outright kill anyone in one of these attacks, he would be lying if he said he wasn't vary tempted to do so each and every time, but he instead decides to let them live after the experience, if only for the belief that such an encounter will humble them, as well as spread fear throughout the kingdom of his abilities, possibly inspiring others to stand up and fighter against this oppressive theocracy that was built upon lies and falsehoods.

L I F E E X P E R I E N C E S
Lazulin life wasn't always spent in rebellion against the Ecclesiae. In the beginning, he was cared for by them, taught to better harness his magic from them, and even formed close friendships with several others who would go on to become Inquisitors for the church. But one event caused him to turn his back on the church, and to dedicate himself to it's destruction.

The betrayal of his mother.

His mother, an Inquisitor of some standing and intelligent woman, had been the premier academic on the subject of demonology. She spent her entire life dedicated to studying how to best make use of and defeat these twisted creatures of the abyss, trying to find out exactly how they function. The focus of her research, more than anything, was taking the possessed blood of these monsters, cleansing it, and allowing it to be used as a catalyst for the growth of the church's own forces. A task that proved difficult due to the corruptive properties of abyssal blood, often killing the animal test subjects that she made use of at best and turning them into uncontrollable beasts at worse. Despite his youth and relatively low standing in the church, Lazulin's affinity for tinkering and machina as well as his own relentless study into the subject of demonology made him a valuable assistant in his mother's research during his teenage years.

His skills and talents, along with his mother's knowledge and experience, led to the development of an intriguing prototype to harnessing the power of the abyss. Using several sealing mechanics in order to hold back the corrupted flow of ether until it was needed, they created a viable way to wield demonic energy through the use of artifacts laden so laden in their depraved power that they had begun to produce the same corrupted ether as the beings themselves. While not quite what his mother was hoping for, the prototype proved to be a step in the right direction, though it still needed further tweaks before it could be used. It'd be sometime shortly after Lazulin's 19th birthday that his entire world would get turn upside down.

In the months following up to the day, Lazulin's mother had seemed to be afraid of something, though she never told him what. She'd only tell him that everything would be fine, that she just needed more time. Unfortunately, the church didn't wait for whatever plan she had to make their move. Inquisitors burst into the facility with weapons drawn, calling for his mother's arrest for crimes against the church. She responded with force, and soon the entire facility was turned into a battlefield as his mother and a few of her more loyal colleagues fought against their former allies, with Lazulin trying his best to assist them anyway they could. Sadly, the battle was quick to turn against them, with Lazulin losing his arm in a clash with an Ignis Artificem Inquisitor. As the battle raged, however, one of the magical attacks missed it's intended target by a long shot and instead struck one of the containers for the prototypes, breaking the binding restraints that kept the demonic taint contained. As if possessed, artifact would suddenly latch itself onto the nearby corpse of an Inquistor, within seconds transforming it into a viale abomination of pulsating flesh and twisted features. With a mighty roar, it heaves a wave of burning hellfire upon the entire group, bathing Lazulin in corrupted, burning ether and causing him to pass out as the beast charged forward.

His memories of events after that are fuzzy at best, as he drifted in between stats of consciousness, unconsciousness and. . . something else entirely. Shattered fragments showed him the remains of the forces gathered, the laboratory being consumed by blue-black flames, and his mother standing above him, covered ins erious wounds as she performed some sort of ritual over him. He couldn't move anything, but he could feel a sort of . .
. pulsating from his right arm. After that, the lat thing he remembers is his mother reaching out to him from within a column of hellfire, speaking to him now in a low voice as her form slowly turned to ash. The only pharse he could parse through the thick haze of his mind being "I'm sorry. . ".

When Lazulin later awoke in the burned out shell of his mother's laboratory, with not a scratch on his form. . . and an arm he vividly remembered losing. It was now covered in a dark metallic gauntlet, the flow of the metal work seeming almost. . . organic in nature,
and gave off a deeply unnerving feeling the longer he looked at it. Any attempt to remove it was met with failure, for underneath the metal carapace he would see that his flesh had been *fused* to the strange prosthetic. If Laz didn't know better. . . it was almost as if the gauntlet was consuming his arm. Dazed and confused, with little clue of what had occurred and even less understanding of why, he stumbled away from the scene. In the following days, his mind would eventually come to the realizations that shock had attempted to hold back. He would also come to the realization that his mother had saved his life from a fate worse than death. . . at the cost of her own.

The corrupted ether that came from the artefacts was much more diluted than how it normally is, but it's ability to corrupt and consume those who touch it is still utterly complete. Exposed to the hellfire as I had been, I would have succumbed to the within the day, if that. The kindest fate would've been to kill me and burn my body, but my mother,
likely near death and likely facing a similar fate herself after doing battle with that abomination, had used her knowledge of the forbidden arcane to save his life. While he had little clue of the specifics of the procedure, the end result was that his mother had to sacrifice her own life to save him. But the final product was far from perfect.

The demonic taint was not controled, merely contained and appeased. The Gauntlet, as he'd come to call it, hungered for blood, death, and violence constantly, and the longer he refused to sate it, the more it's corruption would spread. Runes of Sanctus and Malum held the corruption back as best they could, but all it did was slow it down. It would affect his mind at first, filling him with great mental pains and terrible thoughts and dreams,
before starting to twist and break his body. His first act against the Ecclesiae was done not to incite his need for vengeance, but to sate the blood magic that kept the corruption from taking him over.

However, after that first attack against a pair of Inquistors, his thoughts would turn back to the men who attacked his mother, who tried to kill her on orders from the church.
They had caused this, he realized, both through their attack on his mother and in their desire to control the power of the demon's from the abyss. And it was in that moment that he swore to destroy the Ecclesiae, no matter it took, with as long as he had left to live.Because they had taken everything from him, so it only seemed just that he do the same to them. Let their own hubris in thinking they could truly control the abyss lead to their undoing.

E L E M E N T A L A F F I N I T Y
Malum

A T T R I B U T E S
Curse Magic: Lazulin's main magic is that of placing a burning curse upon his targets, connecting them through a tenuous thread of magical energy. He can maintain about 4 of these curses at a time, and can use them to impose a number of affects upon the affected party.
  • Curse of Leeches
  • Curse of the Mountain
  • Curse of the Gorgon


Hellfire: A form of Malum magic he created through his experience with demonic energies,
he can create a cold burning flame of black and blue that feasts on Ether for fuel.
This makes this magic fantastic fro breaking down magical defenses and wearing down opponents, as well as being a fairly useful counter-offensive to block or weaken enemy spells.

S I L M E R A A N A


G E N D E R
Male

A G E
19

R A C E
Gray Wolf Faunus

A C A D E M Y O F O R I G I N
Atlas Academy

A P P E A R A N C E & P E R S O N A L I T Y
Silme is a tall and well-built individual, standing at around 6'2 with dull silver hair and intense grey eyes. His body has been hardened and scarred by his years serving under his Slave Master. His Faunus heritage shows itself in fierce claws that can easily tear through flesh. His standard attire consists of grey camo-pants, a darker grey t-shirt with no sleeves and, when the weather calls for it, a white hooded jacket. He prefers to not wear shoes whenever possible, and when he must, he usually goes for some form of sandals. When asked why, he simply says that he likes the feel of the ground against his feet, and that he finds shoes to generally be uncomfortable.

As far as personality goes, Silme is a decidedly crass, yet stoic individual. He isn't afraid to speak his mind and often does so in a way that is both colorfully descriptive as well as demeaning. Yet despite his outer demeanor being decidedly rough and unpolished, and that he often seems to generally despise people on a whole, you'll never find a better team player, nor anyone more willing to sacrifice him for the good of a team then him. This isn't due to some misguided sense of justice or him secretly caring about other people, but simply that he doesn't put any stock in his own life. Ever since he was born, he's only ever been regarded as a disposable, expendable tool, and as such, feels that when faced with a situation where it's a choice between him and someone else, then he always acts in the favor of the other.

When interacting with others, Silme's rough nature and vulgar tongue tend to keep most people away from him, as he is admittedly a difficult person to be around at first. However, if one does get past this outer layer of snarling defiance at the entirety of the world, they'll come to find a soul that has simply given up on life, seeing no meaning in ambition or thoughts of the future because, in reality, the only future he has isn't his to decide. In someways, Silme genuinely wishes for death to claim him, as it would finally allow him to be free from the oppressive chains that had held him down for so long, free from the memories of his nearly inhumane training, of seeing his family and friends beaten within an inch of their lives in order to serve as 'examples' to the other slaves. Silme does not seek friendship or companionship, and in fact actively avoids it, because he knows that no matter what happens, he'll never truly be free. And while he talks a big game, talk is all that it will ever be.

L I F E & M O T I V A T I O N S
Silme was born in a secret encampment of escaped Faunus slaves, hidden away along the edge of Mantle's imposing cliffs. Life was hard, fighting against both the harsh weather and even harsher beasts of Grimm that stalked them at night. But the cliffside home was well-hidden, and those who lived thete determined to let their children live free from the threat of enslavement.

Alas, this peaceful existsnce was not to last, and the blame for it's fall lay squarely at the feet of one foolish boy. As a child, Silme tended to sneak out of the confines of his small village to explore the surrpunding area, paying little heed to the danger as he sought to feed his curiosity. It was during one of these excursions that he came upon a rather grizzly scene: a contingent of Mantle soldiers that had been utterly decimated around the remains of a downed supply craft, torn to shreds in such a fashion that their could only have been one culprit responsible: Grimm. And from the look of the scene, even a child like him could tell that it had been a recent kill, the blood stained snow still shining a broght, gory red. If Silme had done as his guts and sense bade him ans immediately fled the scene, things might have been different, but instead he stayed, his sensetive ears picking up on a strange sound coming from one pf the supply trains the soldiers had been transporting.

W E A P O N S & S K I L L S
❖ Ragnorok/Glepnir
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❖ Faunus Traits
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❖ Monstrous Strength
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❖ Survival Training
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❖ Smart placeholder
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S E M B L A N C E
❖ Bite the Hand
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Moving this in from the int. Check, thoughts on it would be neat if anyone has issues or suggestions. Still need to write out the backstory.


@ValorAlchemist dude specs it, apparently.
@MatthiasAngelgive it an hour and you'll have a moody medium to help things. Been chipping away at my cs, so I'm almost gtg.
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