index
int64 0
56.6k
| thread_id
int64 0
1.54k
| message_id
int64 0
752
| author_id
int64 0
2.81k
| author_num_posts
int64 2
36k
| message
stringlengths 0
134k
| character
stringlengths 0
110k
|
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
46,802 | 1,264 | 141 | 231 | 133 | Zensei Zaza
Freeing his waist from the tree branch, the trees in the room fell and vines shot up through the walls. "Oh shit." Zensei said in monotone. The first two vines wrapped around his wrists while the other two followed up by wrapping around his ankles, making his body form the shape of an 'X'.
In attempt to escape, he began gnawing at the vines. Making no progress and leaving a bad taste in his mouth, he gave up. Zephyr then appeared through some of the dirt that remained afloat. Zensei released the low gravity to make the dirt crumble onto the ground, the walls still stained a brown color. "I won't let you win that easily." He tiredly said, shifting the gravity to the side. Some of the vines on the right wall ripped off, stinging anyone that would get slapped by one. Zensei, though, still remained in bondage, barely shifting to the side. | Name: Zensei Zaza
Class: Gravitin
Race: Pixie
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): (Ignore the flower xD)
Power Ranking (Look at "School Info" in the Doc): B
Pick 2 Classes of your Choice (Combat Training, Survival, and Spell Casting are required for all students.):
1. Potion Making
2. Art
Character's Characteristics: Very flirtatious, likes to spy on people in the shower, very hyper when eats sugar. Also attempts to be a bad bitch like Nicki Minaj or Azealia Banks
Main Power(s) based on Class: Making things rise then slamming them on the ground, opening locks from the outside.
Backstory (If Any): Zensei had a very creepy childhood. His mom was a black widow and his dad was a magical butterfly. Every day he had to eat bugs his mom caught for him. But one day his mom ate his dad, he cried for days on days. Afraid of what his mom would do next, he fled, almost getting jumped by her. Through all the fog he saw the gates to what looked like a college for magical creatures, and at that moment decided to attend. Also a lot of hot people will probably attend so that's another reason.
Any Other Info, if any: Has green sparkles/green glow. Favorite color is green. Loves to paint with sparkles. |
46,803 | 1,264 | 142 | 1,576 | 358 | Nodah Listig
Nodah watched as Desdemona struggled against the hold on her feet. As she relented, she said, "It would’ve been nice to punch you in the face at least once.” Nodah raised an inquisitive eyebrow at that. Desdemona then flung a piece of a paper in the air. Bewildered as a summoning circle traced itself into existence, Nodah was struck with an image of Desdemona tucking something away in the combat training hall. She does prepatory work ere her battles, this one, he though with distant approval, a snake that seemed to crinkle and hiss with lightning appearing before him. Nodah had just enough time to register Desdemona cocking an imaginary gun at him, before the snake's jaws parted almost hungrily. Nodah heard the first fire-crackles of electricity, swore he could smell singed flesh. Desperation and fear drying his mouth and leadening his tongue, Nodah leapt sideways, rolling forwards, to narrowly avoid the beam of lightning that roared past him.
He spun around, crouched to the floor, eyes flashing yellow at the snake. He liked this not. With hasty speed, he flicked his wrist, sending the dagger spiralling straight for the middle of the slithering reptile. He fully expected the blade to find its mark and pin it to the floor, if the summoned could not be killed. His aim alone was not half-bad, unaided by manipulation. His gaze flickered to Desdemona, ensuring she stayed rooted. He slipped another dagger from his belt. "Do you have another for me?" | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,804 | 1,264 | 143 | 144 | 28 | A harsh pain spontaneously erupted upon her arm, rousing the young female from her blissful slumber and causing for her to jolt upwards from her bed. Still slightly drowsy, she brought her hand over to her right arm, then gently pressed upon the blue spot that pulsed with agony. Akujo inhaled sharply to muffle her inward yelp of distress and exhaled slowly to relieve that same injury.
Careful to lift her bruised body from her sleeping spot, she walked out from the room, remembering at the final moment to have her key card upon her person, and attempted to locate where a possible infirmary or clinic might be. It took several tries of talking to others for directions and following them as best as possible in order for her to finally be standing before the door of the health clinic.
Knocking upon its dark wood, she then opened the door to enter and was kindly received by the female elf working as the nurse. Upon seeing her wounds, she clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh dear, those bruises aren’t looking too good. How long have you been here?” The witch was about to reply with a proper answer before realizing that she hadn’t thought to keep track of the time that had passed since she arrived.
“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know,” she meekly responded.
Seeing her slight discomfort, the worker lightly sighed before giving her a forgiving smile. “Well, you’re here now, so you don’t need to worry about it much. Take a seat on the cot over there, if you don’t mind.”
Akujo followed the finger that had been pointed over towards the small, purely white cot that had been set aside and set upon it as instructed. She had begun to kick her legs, one after another in a childish succession, when the doors burst open once more to reveal a vampire with worry and concern written upon her face. She had almost seemed to be searching for something, and when it wasn’t found, panic also arose upon the petite female’s features.
Not one to quietly observe while another suffered, Akujo called out to her. “Hello? You there, with the black hair. Are you okay?” | Name: Maman Akujo (Eastern Naming Order)
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Her locks of long, dip-dyed hair flutter annoyingly about her face at a consistent rate due to the unrestrained stream of magic that flows about her. Her large yet strangely colored pink optics hold hearts as pupils instead of the usual spheres. Atop of her head sits the large, lavender witch's hat; tied upon it being pink ribbons with green tinting. Her outfit is that of a dancer; a tight leotard stretched across her slightly chubby figure with fluff on the trimming of the limbs. Naturally golden freckles are dotted about her body, accompanied by a tan skin tone. Lastly, to travel to wherever she wishes, she carries a broomstick that is typical of witches that is wrapped in the same sort of ribbons as the hat.
Power Ranking: A
Classes Chosen to Take: Art and Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: With a passion and enthusiasm that rivals that of so many others, Akujo strives to do the best that she can, especially in subjects that she is particularly intrigued by. Though holding the quality of being a hard worker, she can also become very lazy and complacent, somehow managing to convince herself that she needs no improvement. While this trait frustrates her to no end, she does not have the motivation that is required to fix it. Furthermore, she can be easily excited to learn more about whatever crosses her path, but can just as quickly lose interest as well. She loves being able to spend her available time with others, especially with those that allow her to feel free and like herself, and she hates being alone for extended periods of time. However, after becoming seemingly close with people she can consider to be friends, she tends to distance herself a bit due to the fear of attachment.
Backstory: Akujo had been living alongside her mother and father as an only child until the ripe age of thirteen. Once she became that age, her life had seemed to plummet downwards. Her parents fought more often than ever, to the point that they could not stand to be in each other's presence and split; each one living in a separate home. She had been stuck between the two, constantly moving from one house to another in order to spend an equal period of time with the two people that she cared about the most. However, this soon seemed to change in the upcoming year. At the age of fourteen, a demon had come into her father's home, demolished it, and killed her father. the ashes and flames forever burning themselves into her memory. That very demon had also cursed her with the powers of magic, which she could not control and that caused her friends and remaining family to abandon her to her own devices.It is for this reason that she desired beyond all hope to attend school at Rosewood, for learning how to use and control her magic properly, at the moment, was nothing more than a dream.
Main Powers: Though inexperienced in the movement of objects around her, Akujo is able to change the gravity around her from a crushing weight upon one's self to a lightness around a person that allows them more agility and heightened physical capabilities as well. This range of power that she has can extend to about 120 feet due to years of practicing with animals and inanimate objects in the Wilds. |
46,805 | 1,264 | 144 | 1,706 | 30 | Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
Nodah’s dagger was zooming towards the snake. Desdemona caught it leaving a cut on her hand. A hiss escaped the creature’s mouth as it sensed her injury. She moved the knife to the opposite hand while the snake curled its body around her arm, eventually licking the graze. Absorbing the energy from Desdemona’s blood, the serpent’s scales gained a dark aura and the electric surges amplified. Whipping its tail to the ground, currents of intense lightning rippled across the floor rapidly approaching Nodah. | Name: Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
Class: Nᴇᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇʀ
Race: Dᴇᴍᴏɴ
Appearance:
5'4" tall/Curvy Build
Power Ranking: A
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics:
Ruthless and arrogant. She loves a good challenge and is definitely someone you shouldn't get on the bad side of. Has a soft spot for cats.
Main powers: Uses harvested magic of the dead as a way to amplify her own strength. Can resurrect dead creatures for various amounts of time depending on how strong the creature is.
Backstory: Desdemona Corcella has been through rigorous magical training her whole life. She has fought the dangerous creatures in the Barren Lands and Wilds, and has been accustomed to death from a young age. As the sole heir of a world-renowned family of demons, she has to maintain the tradition of dominating any competition with the use of powerful necromancy. Desdemona's family holds her to a very high standard, and doesn't accept any failures. Any level of disappointment will result in extreme punishments and because of this Desdemona has devoted most of her efforts into becoming the best at everything she does. Desdemona is currently at Rosewood and sees it as another test to prove her superiority to her family.
Other info: Dislikes Pixies, she sees them as being annoying bugs and wishes she could squash them all. |
46,806 | 1,264 | 145 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
Zephyr quickly shifted to the side to avoid being hit by a vine only to feel the sting against the back of his head from another one. He groaned. But Zensei was still trapped, which was good. With a sharp movement of his hands he brought more vines up around the pixie and against the wall, securing the bonds. He walked to the pixie, a sharp-toothed grin on his face, and stopped a safe, but short distance away. "I'm sure if you formally yield we'll be able to walk out of here right now. What say you?" if the pixie yielded, that would be that. A short, challenging fight, although he would never admit that to anyone. If he somehow managed to get free, Zephyr would be deeply impressed. To prepare for the possibility he stepped back and grew two large plants that were rather similar to Venus Flytraps. If they caught the tiny creature he'd have no choice but to yield quickly before they started to digest him. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,807 | 1,264 | 146 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Leval had always been a deep sleeper, so when someone picked him up onto a gurney and through the portal, he did not wake up. His dreams were a myriad of flashing images: a pair of fangs striking forward, a cat surrounded by bowls of food, a dark shadow rising up from the ground. However, the most distinct image was that of a strand of a thick, white substance. He looked up, the same strands of white reached up to the sky, criss-crossing itself forming a complex pattern. 'A Weave?' Leval touched it with the tips of his fingertips, it felt smooth and rough at the same time. His brow furrowed in confusion and he attempted to pull back his hand. His fingers would not come off the web. He pulled harder, yet his fingers still refused. 'Not a Weave, a web!' He grasped at his hand at the other wrist and pushed against the ground with his legs. Then, he stopped. Something was moving the strands above, they let out a slight twang as a sharp appendage emerged out of the darkness above. There was some sort of dark chittering and he quite distinctively heard in strange sharp accent, "I see you..."
He opened his eyes. Above him was a white ceiling, artificial light cast over him. 'This isn't the classroom.' He lifted his head off the table and glanced around. Rowan was there sitting nervously in chair nearby, and another girl he had not met before wearing a rather odd purple and green outfit. He stared at it for a moment trying to make sense of it, the Weave of her aura looked strange. A thick patch of color looked like it had been grafted on roughly. His brow furrowed and he groggily said, "Whose power is that?" He blinked and rubbed his eyes, before looking at his left arm. The pain in his shoulder had disappeared. He moved it around in a circle experimentally, but it moved easily as though it had never been hurt at all. He switched his attention to his right palm, there were two circular scars in his palm still fresh and new. However, that seemed to be all that remained of his injuries.
His mind began to kick into gear again, putting his stray thoughts together to form a cohesive idea. The looked at Rowan and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I take it you brought me here? Thank you." | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,808 | 1,264 | 147 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
Shortly after exiting the portal, Rowan stood before the large oak doors of the infirmary. "Certainly he should be here already..." She drew in a deep breath and placed both of her hands on each handle. Hesitance was a running theme for Rowan, but she eventually gathered her bearings and opened the entrance. Light shone through the white curtains of the medical wing in vast amounts, but her attention was focused on locating Leval. She slipped past the female elf and peeked around the corners of each screen that separated the individual cots. Rowan felt herself become more and more anxious as she struggled to find the human she had sent to the clinic. "Where is he? Has he not arrived yet?" The vampire gripped her wrist in one hand while the other tightened into a fist. She stood in the middle of the room and looked down at the floor, her black strands of hair flowing messily by the sides of her face. "Should I have gone to the training hall and retrieved him myself?" When she lost herself in thought once again, another unfamiliar voice interjected. “Hello? You there, with the black hair. Are you okay?”
Rowan gasped slightly and turned to face the new presence. A girl who appeared to be a human dressed in attire that was rather eye catching had spoken up, a look of concern in her unique eyes. Rowan habitually looked behind her to see if perhaps she was mistaken, but of course she was the only other person in that general direction. She ushered a courtly nod in the human girl's direction and prepared to turn away from her. However, she realized that looking on her own would get her nowhere. "Pardon me for asking... would you happen to know if another student has been admitted here recently?" Rowan began unsteadily while she continued to glance around the infirmary. The answer to her question came shortly after she had asked; the dark timbered doors swung open to reveal a stretcher being wheeled in by two creatures in surgical masks. "What do we have here?" The nurse slid out from behind her desk on her unconventional office chair and lowered her glasses to observe the patient from afar. "Set him down over there." She waved over to one of the free beds nonchalantly and returned to her desk.
The two masked helpers pushed the gurney over to the designated cot and moved away from the male human. One of the creatures raised a hand slightly, and the gravity around Leval shifted in a way that maintained his current position while gently lifting him up into the air. As he was suspended the Gravitin flicked its wrist in a swift motion, and soon the unconscious patient was placed cautiously on the linen cloth of the bed. Rowan watched with curiosity as they maneuvered the boy's body with great care. "Thank you." The elf emerged from her corner and rolled the sleeves of her lab coat up to her elbows. The two assistants bowed and saw themselves out of the infirmary in silence, and the nurse got to work soon after their departure. She scanned his body for the potential injuries before she held her hands out over the targeted areas. A warm yellow light was emitted from the palms of her hands while she moved them gingerly along the entirety of his figure.
The vampire found herself a seat by the bedside and sat on the edge of the chair, watching the Druid's movements closely. Only moments later, the nurse let out a sigh and stepped back from her client. "All done. He should be as good as new by the time he wakes up." She offered Rowan a wide grin before she made her way back to her desk. "If you two need anything else, you know where to find me."
Rowan sat stiffly in her seat. Her eyes trailed to the human girl that called out to her earlier, but she averted her gaze in order to avoid any unwanted attention. She remained idle for a short interval of time. Occasionally she brought her hands up to her identification necklace and prodded at the red gem in the center with the tips of her fingers. As she kept to herself for most of the visit, Rowan was silent while her thoughts kept her occupied. "Shall I return to class? No, it would be better to wait for him to awake." A few more minutes passed and she was tempted to look over at the human girl again out of curtosy, considering she hadn't left the infirmary yet and they were both sitting quietly. Rowan's eyes trailed down to the other creature's exposed skin that was decorated with fresh cuts and bruises. The vampire opened her mouth to speak but she quickly whipped her head around when she heard rustling from the bed sheets. Leval sat up, clearly groggy from his abrupt nap. "Whose power is that?" Rowan raised an eyebrow at his question since she did not have an answer, and he continued on to test his repaired limbs.
Eventually, Leval turned to face the other two creatures in the room and inclined his head in Rowan's direction. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I take it you brought me here? Thank you." The vampire shook her head and stood up from her seat to issue another bow in response. With her head still lowered, she spoke up saying, "You need not apologize, I felt it necessary to send for help. It was not me who brought you here, so I am not worthy of your gratitude." | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,809 | 1,264 | 148 | 411 | 87 | Nuna Mori
Closing the distance between their mouths, energy flowed into her mouth. The insatiable hunger began to overcome her as she thought she wouldn't be able to gauge herself. Not to worry. She was interrupted by the Nocturne's hand that covered her face, ensuing the strong gusts of wind that blew her back. Suspended in the air, she made sure to avoid crashing into the floor or wall. Performing a backflip, she landed on the ground in a crouching position, skidding backwards slightly. Ready to advance on the Nocturne, her vision was clouded by the mist that was emitted from Kuroda. It was an environment she knew too well.
Looking around the entirety of the room, she sighed, "I don't know if it's just me, but I feel something is missing..." Nuna maneuvered her hand to her hair, where the flower had been adorned. Twirling it in her hands, as she gazed upon it adoringly, she jammed the stem into a wedge of the wooden floorboard. Its roots extended on the surface and underground. Taking a few steps back, she muttered the words of an enchantment, sporadically sprouting vegetation around in the vicinity. "Ah, there it is!" she expressed, impressed at her work. To conserve energy, she limited the size of the plants and trees that cultivated.
Only known to herself the source of the plants was the original flower that initiated the growth. The cone shaped flower emitted a warm glow from it signaling it to be the source. To remove the vegetation, one would have to uproot the floret. There was one catch to that though; the person who performs such a task would be subject to inhibit the poisonous effects of the bud, indomitable to Druids. This unknown to her opponent. It was a physical representation, both her Druidic qualities and Succubus aspects; alluring and blooming. If the boy was subject to break the entrancing effects of her skill, this was her alternative. It served as a defensive as well as an offensive strategy for her.
She dawdled, slowly approaching to the Nocturne. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,810 | 1,264 | 149 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
"You need not apologize, I felt it necessary to send for help. It was not me who brought you here, so I am not worthy of your gratitude." Rowan had her head to him, much the same way that he had just done. 'I'm starting to notice a pattern to our talks...' He noticed that her arm had slipped from her long sleeve and had a red stain on her wrist. "Then you called the medics to me, that's the same thing. Blood loss wasn't the problem though so I hope that's not your concern. The shadow thing sneak attacked me on my up to the school." He gestured at her wrist. "Here let me get that." Leval shifted his legs off the bed and picked up a napkin off the nightstand next to him. The nightstand also had an empty glass and pitcher of ice water, so he dabbed the edge of the napkin inside, wetting it with the chill water.
He reached out and touched her wrist gently, looking up at her for approval. He brought her wrist and carefully dabbed the blood away, being careful to catch any falling droplets before they fell to the floor. Her wrist was not as cold as he might have expected, but still several degrees color than the room. He finished quickly, folded up the napkin and deposited it on the nightstand. He looked up and again saw the other girl in the room in the strange outfit. "Oh sorry I don't think we have actually met. I'm Leval and this is Rowan." Glancing down, he realized he was still holding Rowan's wrist in his hand. "Oh sorry!" He released her hand looking somewhat sheepish. He pulled out his Connector and glanced at the time. 'Apparently, I haven't been out too long. Healing magic gotta love it.' He looked back up and said, "We should have enough time to get over to the classroom, before the second half of the class starts." He stood and did a quick test of his legs, everything seemed to be in working order, so he walked to the door. There was a tall elf woman at a desk in front, so Leval thanked her as he passed for her help. He opened the door and held it for Rowan to walk through. He waved at the strangely dressed girl, "See you up there." He started back to the class with Rowan, not saying anything, enjoying the companionable silence. | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,811 | 1,264 | 150 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
"Here let me get that." Rowan glanced up at Leval with a confused expression on her face. "What is he-?" The human motioned towards her hand that was exposed from beneath her cloak. She clutched the wrist with her other hand and prepared to turn down the proposal. "It's alright, I..." The vampire's timid voice trailed off as he reached out to her. Rowan cast her eyes away from Leval, nodding and easily giving in to his offer. When his hand clasped around her wrist gently, she felt quite a difference in the temperature of their skin. Warmth spread from the spot he touched, and Rowan watched his movements closely. Her other hand gripped her robe tightly when she felt herself become a little embarrassed. Her eyes shifted uncomfortably around the room as her face warmed up in response. "I don't recall ever feeling this warm so often. Perhaps the atmosphere of the school is altering my ambiance."
Rowan concluded that the school was causing her to heat up accordingly, so she put herself at ease. She eyed Leval's hands as he discarded the used napkin on the table, then he went on to introduce himself. "Oh sorry!" Rowan was startled by Leval's sudden outburst, but she cleared her throat and pulled her hands close to her chest. She nodded her head at him in thanks and waved shyly at the human girl in place of a "good-bye." The vampire rubbed the back of her hand where the streak of red once was while she made her way over to the oak doors behind Leval. When he held the door open for her, she halted in the door way and parted her lips to speak, but she shook her head and proceeded to exit the infirmary. The two of them walked side by side in silence, and they strolled towards the classroom at a relaxed pace.
The training hall was still empty when they had finally arrived. "These battles are quite time-consuming. Will the students have enough energy to participate in the team battles?" Rowan pondered as she made her way back over to the shaded area of the classroom. She sat down and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her arms. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,812 | 1,264 | 151 | 231 | 133 | Zensei Zaza
"I'm sure if you formally yield we'll be able to walk out of here right now. What say you?" Zephyr asked this as Zensei tugged on the now enforced vines. "I'll never give up for as long as ever!" Zensei yelled and proceeded to spit at the demon. As Zensei did this, Zephyr grew two large Venus flytraps that seemed ready to strike at any moment. Zensei froze in fear, imagining getting slowly digested by such an ugly creature, or possibly ripped apart by the two. He was too scared to remember the shield that would prevent his death, and began to cry. "Okay you win! Now let me down!" Following his plea for freedom, the plants in the room began to disappear and the walls suddenly vanished. Zensei who was now on the floor and salty, gave Zephyr some words to hold onto. "Next time, I wont give in so easily." He slowly arose and turned around, laughing devilishly as he exited through the hallway. | Name: Zensei Zaza
Class: Gravitin
Race: Pixie
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): (Ignore the flower xD)
Power Ranking (Look at "School Info" in the Doc): B
Pick 2 Classes of your Choice (Combat Training, Survival, and Spell Casting are required for all students.):
1. Potion Making
2. Art
Character's Characteristics: Very flirtatious, likes to spy on people in the shower, very hyper when eats sugar. Also attempts to be a bad bitch like Nicki Minaj or Azealia Banks
Main Power(s) based on Class: Making things rise then slamming them on the ground, opening locks from the outside.
Backstory (If Any): Zensei had a very creepy childhood. His mom was a black widow and his dad was a magical butterfly. Every day he had to eat bugs his mom caught for him. But one day his mom ate his dad, he cried for days on days. Afraid of what his mom would do next, he fled, almost getting jumped by her. Through all the fog he saw the gates to what looked like a college for magical creatures, and at that moment decided to attend. Also a lot of hot people will probably attend so that's another reason.
Any Other Info, if any: Has green sparkles/green glow. Favorite color is green. Loves to paint with sparkles. |
46,813 | 1,264 | 152 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
Zephyr smirked as the pixie yielded in fear, watching him collapse onto the floor. He rose after a short while, and with a threat that Zephyr might have found more threatening if he hadn't just frightened him into submission, Zensei left the room. Zephyr looked down at his outfit, which was still a pristine white and grinned. Nice, first battle won. He sauntered out of the room win his hands in his pockets and headed back to the main hall, curious as to who he would get to fight next. Back in the hall were Leval and the new vampire, among some other students.
He walked to a bench and sat down, waiting for the rest of the students. Hopefully his performance would be good enough for him to move up a rank. He was fairly certain it was his casual attitude that had put him where he was in the first place, and decided to give this place a little more seriousness. Likely his next opponents would be far more challenging. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,814 | 1,264 | 153 | 1,576 | 358 | Nodah Listig
Desdemona reached out, and caught the blade. It spliced across her palm, and Nodah heard the snake hiss in lent pain, winding its way up its mistress to tend to the injury. And in that moment, Nodah realised he could very well die.
They were not very far apart. When the snake lashed its tail, it unleashed jagged slashes of electricity. Nodah watched as they headed for him, with single-minded purpose. His thoughts raced in his head, as swift as the bolts of lightning crackling over the ground. It is near time for the duel to end. The snake - the Devil incarnate - was coiled almost lovingly around Desdemona's arm. Docile as a pet. Desdemona wishes to win in the worst way. Pettiness is known to thrive where bitterness breeds. Travelling lightning scorched the once-pristine floor, marks of devastation blooming in its wake.
Nodah did not desire death.
But he had thought too long, spent the precious scant seconds he'd had. The lightning reached him, and Nodah's heart dropped as he felt heat wrap itself too familiarly around him, burning close and burrowing to get under his skin. Light encased him; it was all he could see. Through the smothering blanket of blinding light, and incomparable heat, Nodah realised this ordeal should not have lasted more than milliseconds. Lightning strikes were not long-lasting - but was this within the realm of the ordinary? His shirt burst, and Nodah winced, wondering if into flames. Flashover effect, he thought numbly, as heat began to concentrate near his collarbone. Curious, Nodah thought in that detached way one often adopts when thinking in the present, of reality, was only insanity. The phenomenon that could very well spare him had been made more likely with his protective barrier, but why did the back of his neck still burn?
Metal, Nodah thought, slow panic driving a hammer into his heart, accelerating as the heat and pain began to grow. I'm wearing the student identification. A clipped anguished cry tore itself from his lips as his palms spread open beside him, an instinctive movement. A heartbeat after, Nodah felt himself smack against the ceiling as the pulse that had been delivered without thought, but with a primal need to survive, flung him upwards with giant's strength as easily as a limp rag doll. His forehead and knee ached from slamming into the roof, but he no longer felt the crawling sensation of electricity plying at the protective barrier, seeking to slither through some hairline crack or across a metal bridge and roast his flesh. With a shred of renewed relief, Nodah squinted into the fluorescent bulbs that suddenly seemed so dim, the ceiling rushing further and further away from him.
His tailbone struck the floor, before the back of his head. Lifeless and winded, he lay against the cold unforgiving floor in a shirt and trousers that had become ragged strips of singed blackened cloth draped on his person. His heart was aflame, but with a blind scrabble at his chest, his fingers found his scalding pendant, toasted and heated by the lightning's charge. He wrenched the heated necklace, and felt the clasp behind his neck give at his weakened tug. Its burning golden links slipped between his loose fingers to the floor. He could almost vow wisps of steam were rising from it into the cool air. Any energy but a myth, Nodah closed his eyes and let his head drop back to the floor. | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,815 | 1,264 | 154 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
The hall was still empty when they arrived back at the large room. The holograms were still on the screens above, moving every once in a while, but remained silent. 'Are they going to teach us actual combative techniques soon or is this just some type of pretest for the first day?' Rowan moved over the shaded part of the classroom and sat down, huddling her body close together. Leval sat down next to her, giving her some space, sitting with his legs crossed and hands on his knees. Some of the other students were coming out now, Leval saw a large demon that he had seen at his table from breakfast. He looked quite pleased with himself, so Leval assumed his battle had gone well. He made sure to take special note of his arm, in case the added detail would be useful later.
Leval closed his eyes and reached again for his magic. He opened his eyes and saw the Weave before him. Countless strings covered the room, crisscrossing across the room, the students, and things unseen all in one grand shifting pattern that was constantly in flux. Every person in the room so far had a complicated, multicolored pattern of string surrounding them. Some had loose patterns that sagged somewhat in the outlying reaches and yet others had patterns of such tight thread, you could hardly tell there was a pattern at all. In this much confusion, it was close to impossible for Leval to make out any detail about one specific person without directly in front of them. Turning inward, he saw the faintly glimmering, blue strands of his magic. He frowned, a faint glimmer meant he was beginning to run low on magical energy. Still, it would have to be enough.
Leval raised his hands out before him, palms facing upward. Through all of fingers, except his index fingers, strands of shifting color stood out against his skin. He shifted his hands towards himself, so no onlookers could see the minor alteration. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The Weave he had in mind would lack the power of touch, but if he spent enough time and effort on it, would be indistinguishable from reality. He wouldn't be able to maintain it for very long given his reserves of magical power left, but it would buy valuable time. He visualized the weave and with a slight twitch of his fingers began to guide the threads of his power into a sight, a sound, a scent, a taste, and a trick.
When he completed his task, he leaned back against the wall and took a breath, hopefully they would be allowed to get lunch and recover some of their energy before any of the other courses that happened today. He looked over at Rowan, 'What made her comes here I wonder?' He would hopefully learn soon, but he did not ask. Rowan seemed quite shy to Leval, and he didn't want to overwhelm her with questions on the first day at Rosewood. She was rather unlike the other vampires he had known. Back home, the young Vampires had flaunted their powers easily in the poorer areas Leval had lived. There were faded scars on his upper arms from before his own power had manifested itself and he could hide himself from their fangs. They had carried themselves with pride, in the full knowledge that they were predators. Rowan was so radically different, that even though, she had drunk his blood, 'which I gave willingly' he reminded himself, he had a hard time putting her under the term 'Vampire.' She had been brave, respectful, shy, and most of all, kind. She had sent for the medics and stayed with him until he was well.
Leval then realized that he had been looking at Rowan for quite some time now, and shifted his gaze away looking all around the room for something else to focus on. 'Strange... my focus isn't usually this poor. I wonder if I am still recovering from my healing?' Leval concluded that his healing had caused his attention to flounder, so he put himself at ease.
"This is certainly taking a while huh?" | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,816 | 1,264 | 155 | 1,706 | 30 | Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
As Nodah’s ounce of energy finally depleted, Desdemona smirked in the realization of her victory. “Looks like I win-” the moment of triumph quickly fleeted as she experienced the consequence of her magic. The serpent abruptly dissolved into particles as Desdemona’s vision began to blur. Almost collapsing to the floor, she managed to stay balanced. “Damn, I overdid it.” Desdemona thought as she looked back at Nodah. The protective barrier prevented any fatal injuries, so there was nothing dead in the room for her to replenish energy with. Her only option was to find a place to rest.
Heading towards the exit she slightly turned her head to the side, “I wouldn’t mind fighting you again sometime; I had fun.” Desdemona says unsure if Nodah could hear her or not. Returning to the training hall, she made sure to not let her exhaustion show. Desdemona sat on a bench hoping to recover as much strength as she could before the next battle. | Name: Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
Class: Nᴇᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇʀ
Race: Dᴇᴍᴏɴ
Appearance:
5'4" tall/Curvy Build
Power Ranking: A
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics:
Ruthless and arrogant. She loves a good challenge and is definitely someone you shouldn't get on the bad side of. Has a soft spot for cats.
Main powers: Uses harvested magic of the dead as a way to amplify her own strength. Can resurrect dead creatures for various amounts of time depending on how strong the creature is.
Backstory: Desdemona Corcella has been through rigorous magical training her whole life. She has fought the dangerous creatures in the Barren Lands and Wilds, and has been accustomed to death from a young age. As the sole heir of a world-renowned family of demons, she has to maintain the tradition of dominating any competition with the use of powerful necromancy. Desdemona's family holds her to a very high standard, and doesn't accept any failures. Any level of disappointment will result in extreme punishments and because of this Desdemona has devoted most of her efforts into becoming the best at everything she does. Desdemona is currently at Rosewood and sees it as another test to prove her superiority to her family.
Other info: Dislikes Pixies, she sees them as being annoying bugs and wishes she could squash them all. |
46,817 | 1,264 | 156 | 1,576 | 358 | Nodah Listig
“I wouldn’t mind fighting you again sometime; I had fun.” Desdemona's voice seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel. Nodah rubbed his face wearily, feeling a headache begin to pound in his skull. Lightning, he thought as Desdemona slipped from the room. A tad too excessive. When the door closed behind her, Nodah let out a groan. His arm fell once more to his side, but his wrist landed on a soft nest. Opening one bleary grey eye, he took in at once the folded clothes. Sitting up was a painful chore, but he reached for the long-sleeved white shirt and black slacks, which he recognised from his own backpack. Not about to question how his clothes had come to be beside him, Nodah sat upright and pulled them towards him. Shedding his burnt clothes, he wore the fresh set.
As he was tugging the blackened cotton shirt off him, he noticed feather-like branches that raced up the underside of his arms. Nodah looked closer, and realised the pattern reached all the way up to his shoulders. I am in need of a mirror, he thought, looking around the room, only to have his eyes light upon an ornate looking glass hanging lowly on the wall next to him. He peered into its reflective surface, and looked in quiet shock at the branches that encircled his neck, a wreath of thorns. He placed one finger to it, and felt it smart beneath his touch. Mild singeing, he thought, with a wince as added pressure intensified the sharp pain. His hand dropped, and he stared critically at his own reflection. He now had a disc-shaped burn on his chest over his heart from the pendant. Pulling on the white shirt, he tugged back the long sleeves. His eyes fell to the golden necklace on the floor. It was utterly fine, in all aspects of the word, and when he clasped it around his neck once more, its kiss was as cool as it had always been.
Decent and dressed, Nodah placed his burnt clothes in a corner, deciding that salvaging them would be a vain attempt. As he was tucking his knife into his belt again, the door flickered alive before him, and he opened it to see the same dark hallway once more. He stared at the pitless end, and felt one foot inch away from the glowing exit. The call of the void. Stopping himself abruptly, and tore himself away from the endless corridor, and walked to the final door.
Opening it bathed him in the light of the training hall, but Nodah did not think he would ever be blinded by light bulbs and candle flames ever again. He strolled through the hall, hiding the deep penetrating ache of his joints and the limp it brought with it. As he passed Desdemona on a bench, he flicked his fingers in a mild come-hither gesture, and summoned his dagger whizzing back to him. Catching it deftly by its handle, his steps came to a slow, and he paused thoughtfully before Desdemona. He studied Desdemona's blood that stained the blade, before turning sapphire blue eyes with barbed veiny etchings that flickered - pointedly - like lightning to the demon. "How fares your cut?" he asked, his voice hoarser, a croak, as he held out his hand, asking to see Desdemona's. His gaze fell to the feathery ribbons that wended their way up his palm, seeking shelter up his long sleeves. He wondered how far the patterns traversed his skin, if they would fade with time. He would have to seek a druid soon for assistance; walking to the medical wing would be so tiresome, and Nodah did not wish to exert his legs if he could avoid it. | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,818 | 1,264 | 157 | 2,422 | 1,600 | When Mischa dodged Reas' attack it had mildly a surprised him as he saw his illusionary double coming up to meet him. The both stopped and turned towards the direction the nocturn had dodged only to see a lightning bolt streaking towards his real self. "crap" he said to himself as as he attempted to jump out of the way, just avoiding getting electrocuted he ducked into the smoke once more this time having his duplicate double again and attack him from the sides. As the clones went to attack they tried to do a pincers attack with one coming from the left and low with a leg sweep while the other came from the right and up high trying to cause Mischa to dodge again so the real one could fight. The black smoke continued to fill the room further obstructing anyone's vision except Reas' since he was able to make it clear for himself but he did clear a three foot radius around Mischa just to be nice. | Name:
Reas Grimorea
Class:
Illusionist
Race:
Human
Appearance:
5'6" tall / 127 lb not much muscle tone but looks solid. instaed of the red sweat shirt it is black
Power Ranking:
A
Pick 2 Classes of your Choice:
1. Art
2. Cooking
Character's Characteristics:
Very studious, Never without his Rollerblades, Likes sour foods but doesn't eat much, likes to practice regular boxing and a modified style of Kick-boxing which revolves around using his Rollerblades as a means of accelerating his legs to insane speeds. He has a bad habit of being stobborn when faced with a challenge, though is often nice to others who share interests with him.
Main Power(s) based on Class:
Adept at making enviromental illusions such as producing realistic fire and refracting light to blend in with his surroundings.
Backstory:
The son of a Skilled Mechanic and average magician who was badly injured when he refused to pay the local crooks "Chimera". Reas was given his Rollerblades a few weeks before he came to Rosewood where he is usually the quiet one in class.
Reas is always riding his rollerblades, so much in fact that most dont see him wearing any other shoes but there is a good reason for this as they help channel his powers. He was born with the medical condition "Muscle Hypertrophy" which caused his muscles to over develop as a kid and has increased his strength by 10 times which earned him the name cyclop's hammer from his strength.
Any Other Info:
Constantly has a ribbon of illusionary fire wrapped around his leg as a reminder of his quest to get revenge on the thugs that hurt his father. Will ride his Rollerblades in any enviroment as they are powered by his magic allowing him to push his speed to the limit and beyond as well as boost his general leg power (jumping, running, ETC), Reas was known to get into fights and had earned the nickname cyclop's hammer for his strong punches that were like being hit with his namesake weapon |
46,819 | 1,264 | 158 | 1,742 | 33 | Nuna Mori
Waiting for the Nocturne to initiate, Mori played along with his quirks. Before acting upon the scenario, she watched as the boy adapted to the environment, becoming too comfortable and slicing one of the plants. It was an impulse for her to make those who deteriorated nature make amends. Her conduct was interrupted by his speech. "Hey, what happened to that pretty flower? It really complimented your eyes." She gazed in his direction infallibly as her secret got out. She shrugged her shoulders thinking to herself, Come on. This kid is really chatty. Move already! The boy had started into a sprint, gesturing as if he were to deliver a blow. Nuna flinched bracing herself from any impact, but she felt none. The grip of Daichi's hands on her shoulders permitted him to vault over her, in stead for the flower. Her balance was slightly disoriented as she sidestepped and turned to face the dashing cat. Noticing the floret had been crystalized already, the boy crouched over to shatter it. Doing so, it released the poisons that hindered him. 'Shit' was audible along with the thud of his body met the floor.
The plants around her degenerated, as she sauntered to her opponent with haste. "It wasn't going to be that easy. Now I could drain your energy or you could submit. Choose. Try anything funny and you won't see the end of it." she said as her head loomed over his face. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,820 | 1,264 | 159 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Kuroda wore an expression of great distress, almost as if he had run into a corner. He crouched stiffly in his spot as he heard the clacking of heels getting closer and closer to him. He forced an audible gulp down his throat. "It wasn't going to be that easy. Now I could drain your energy or you could submit. Choose. Try anything funny and you won't see the end of it." Kuroda remained silent for a few moments. He assumed a face of uncertainty while his eyes followed the movements of Nuna. That is, until the succubus lurched over him and closed in on his face yet again. Bingo. The infamous essence of mischief reappeared around the Nocturne, consisting of a toothy grin that exposed his fangs as well as a prominent aura of confidence he swaggered from the beginning of the match.
The corners of his lips spread to either side of his visage while his amber irises transitioned to a deep indigo, foreshadowing the power that was to come. "Seems like you can't take advice." The poison that had supposedly paralyzed the Essentia was instead manifested into more energy; his focal points were the production of ice, mist, and poison, proving Nuna's stealth method to be ineffective. Daichi's body in all reality was able to move about without any difficulty; both of his hands clasped against either side of Nuna's head, squeezing her cheeks to produce a masterpiece known as the "fish face." "Poison is one of my specialties, after all." With his foe in his grasp, the cat narrowed his slender eyes at the enemy and his eyes faded from an azure to their original hue.
"Good game." Daichi brought his face dangerously close to Nuna's, being sure to maintain contact as his pupils contracted and his eyes widened. Suddenly, he thrust his head forward to collide with the succubus' forehead with irrefutable force- enough to send the receiver into a daze from the abrupt contact. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,821 | 1,264 | 160 | 411 | 87 | Nuna Mori
"Seems like you can't take advice." Promptly after, the Nocturne's hands compressed her cheeks, forcing her lips outward. Lost in thought, Nuna pondered over how Daichi was able to surmount the toxin. "Poison is one of my specialties, after all." "Wow..." Her eyes widened as the gap between their heads diminished. "Good game." The collision of their foreheads caused her immense pain and she felt herself unable to keep the equity. The diminution of her state was not to be unavenged. As she staggered rearwards, she used her whole embodiment to move forward with a blow with her fist. Using this as a bluff, she took advantage of the momentum created to send her leg full force in the direction of his groin. The strike would be immense for the recipient, but delightful for Nuna as she would feel the organ in some fashion. "Good game, indeed." | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,822 | 1,264 | 161 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Other students had begun to trickle out of the rooms now, it appeared that the majority of the students were finishing up their combats. Most came out rather battered and bruised, but still able to walk on their own two legs, which was a comforting thought. However, others were still looking much more wounded, especially amongst the A rank fighters."Leval Lamrue" He turned, and found Rowan staring at him. You... you claim you've been bit before, correct?" She asked the question in her normal, hesitant manner with an edge of slight unease. Leval's hand drifted up to his right arm unconsciously, gripping it loosely. The rough puncture scars there, prickled as unpleasant memories surface in his mind. He shifted to face Rowan, somewhat uncomfortably.
"Uh...yes. I have been bitten a couple times actually. I didn't grow up in a really great area. The older Vampires weren't an issue really, but sometimes the young ones would come to... play." He spat the last word out, inflecting it with some of the anger he still felt. His illusory body started to grow out of him in reaction, making it seem like spikes were emerging from his body and his body size was swelling upwards. Leval gritted his teeth together for a moment, sighed, and leaned his head against the wall, calming somewhat. "Like I said though, they were young... and stupid." His illusory body shrank back down again, spikes receding inward. He glanced upwards, worried he had offended her. His hand moved and began to pull slightly on the tuft of his hair. | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,823 | 1,264 | 162 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
The look of uncertainty on Rowan's face transitioned to one of more concern as Leval spoke about his past. She noticed his fingers reaching up to wrap loosely around his right arm but she didn't pay much attention to it. The mention of young vampires seemed to spark a series of emotions and memories that the human wasn't too fond of. His attitude towards the end of his statement triggered something within him, and his amiable aura had become quite ominous. She felt tempted to reach out and comfort him, but Rowan knew not how to respond to his tale. Following his slight pause towards the end of his recollection Leval's body startedto expand into the intimidating creature from before. The vampire knitted her brows and pursed her lips. She drew her hands back to her knees and rested her chin on her arms. "It would appear I touched upon a sensitive subject." Her eyes shifted downwards, averting her gaze from the boy she had riled up unintentionally.
A few moments passed and Leval's presence appeared to have calmed down. "Like I said though, they were young... and stupid." Rowan closed her eyes completely and pondered on an appropriate response. "I myself haven't come into contact with many others of my kind." She settled her head on the arm opposite of Leval, focusing her stare on the other side of the room. "He must be festering a hatred for vampires... it's understandable, I've heard many stories regarding those on the 'outside...' Is it really possible for creatures with two different mindsets to coincide with one another?" Rowan held her breath for a moment. "I-... sorry." She was unsure of what she was actually apologizing for- was it for bringing up unpleasant memories or was it on behalf of her whole race? | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,824 | 1,264 | 163 | 1,706 | 30 | Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
A familiar voice caught Desdemona’s attention, it was Nodah reaching out his hand, "How fares your cut?" he asked while she examined the patterns on his skin. Opening the palm of her hand, the abrasion stopped bleeding “This is nothing.” Desdemona replies. “He’s probably in more pain than me.” she cringed at the thought of being struck by lightning, “You should be glad the barrier prevented fatal wounds.” Desdemona adds. | Name: Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
Class: Nᴇᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇʀ
Race: Dᴇᴍᴏɴ
Appearance:
5'4" tall/Curvy Build
Power Ranking: A
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics:
Ruthless and arrogant. She loves a good challenge and is definitely someone you shouldn't get on the bad side of. Has a soft spot for cats.
Main powers: Uses harvested magic of the dead as a way to amplify her own strength. Can resurrect dead creatures for various amounts of time depending on how strong the creature is.
Backstory: Desdemona Corcella has been through rigorous magical training her whole life. She has fought the dangerous creatures in the Barren Lands and Wilds, and has been accustomed to death from a young age. As the sole heir of a world-renowned family of demons, she has to maintain the tradition of dominating any competition with the use of powerful necromancy. Desdemona's family holds her to a very high standard, and doesn't accept any failures. Any level of disappointment will result in extreme punishments and because of this Desdemona has devoted most of her efforts into becoming the best at everything she does. Desdemona is currently at Rosewood and sees it as another test to prove her superiority to her family.
Other info: Dislikes Pixies, she sees them as being annoying bugs and wishes she could squash them all. |
46,825 | 1,264 | 164 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
"I-...sorry." Leval snorted softly, "Not your fault, or are you the ambassador for all Vampires? Some people are good, some people are bad, and some are in the middle." Leval waited for moment for her to respond, but no answer seemed to be forthcoming. He looked over at her and saw her staring at the opposite side of the room. He straightened slightly, "I appreciate the sympathy though..." He cast around looking for something else to talk about. 'Is she upset because of what happened earlier or does she think I am some kind of speciest?' His mind seemed to be drawing a blank. "So...how'd you get to be at Rosewood?" | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,826 | 1,264 | 165 | 2,788 | 1,595 | When Mischa dodged Reas' attack it had mildly a surprised him as he saw his illusionary double coming up to meet him. The both stopped and turned towards the direction the nocturn had dodged only to see a lightning bolt streaking towards his real self. "crap" he said to himself as as he attempted to jump out of the way, just avoiding getting electrocuted he ducked into the smoke once more this time having his duplicate double again and attack him from the sides. As the clones went to attack they tried to do a pincers attack with one coming from the left and low with a leg sweep while the other came from the right and up high trying to cause Mischa to dodge again so the real one could fight. The black smoke continued to fill the room further obstructing anyone's vision except Reas' since he was able to make it clear for himself but he did clear a three foot radius around Mischa just to be nice.
Reas disappeared into the smoke again just before Mischa's shot could get him, though one question was answered for Mischa, Reas does use illusions, he figured this when he realized that the smoke was keeping a certain distance away from him, he kept looking around but started relying on his hearing more. Reas seems to have neglected using sound with his illusions, he didn't hear the sound of the skates on the floor from the two coming at his sides so he ignored them, he did hear something in the smoke though. he quickly raised his rifle toward it and fired a void round which exploded on impact with whatever it hit. | Mischa Ezkalion
Death's grasp could not contain him
yet life's hands could not catch him |
46,827 | 1,264 | 166 | 1,576 | 358 | Nodah watched, as Desdemona's bleeding palm staunched its own flow. The necromancer can heal? he thought. For a creature so heavily dabbling in death, how extraordinary that she should have the ability to mend her defects as they come. “You should be glad the barrier prevented fatal wounds,” said Desdemona, and Nodah lifted an eyebrow.
"I would be gladder still if lightning had never been a card on the table," he said blithely, with neither disdain nor approval painting his tone. His head tilted to the side, the blade turning contemplatively in his hands. "I had not known creatures summoned from the grave could conjure lightning. I do wonder though, if the barrier were indeed what whipped your serpent's tail. With a heart so full of passion to scale to the top, would the absence of a barrier have deterred you or stayed your hand?" | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,828 | 1,264 | 167 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
As Leval spoke Rowan remained idle and hugged her knees closer to her chest. She let out an inaudible sigh. "I appreciate the sympathy though..." The vampire closed her eyes once again and nestled her nose back into the fabric of her cloak. She allowed her hair to slip past her shoulders and in front of her face to shield her expressions. "I see the apology wasn't quite necessary. Of course, saying sorry wouldn't fix anything, especially if it is something of the past." While she pondered to herself, silence seemed to dawn over the two of them for a brief moment. Finally Leval's voice chirped once again as if the break the tension. "So...how'd you get to be at Rosewood?" At that line Rowan moved her head back to its original position, looking at the other creatures ahead of her. "How as in... my conflict at the gates?" She asked tentatively and glanced over at Leval from the corner of her eye, pushing her hair behind her ear to get a better view. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,829 | 1,264 | 168 | 1,368 | 222 | Nuna Mori
Her strike had an effect on the Nocturne causing him to drop to the floor and writhe in pain. Slightly amused, but apprehensive to her movements, Daichi's fluctuations made her feel culpable. To enumerate her remorse, the boy uttered, "I-I'll get you for this, you bitch..." If seeing him squirm and wince wasn't enough of a hint to her mistake, being called a 'bitch' was the trigger. "It's not the first time I've been called that and I suppose it won't be the last..." Conversing with the agonized boy was only torment; she crouched down began tending to his injury. "Hold still for a moment..." A tepid illumination was produced from her hands as she hovered over the damaged area. She recalled the headbutt and motioned one hand over his forehead. Concentrating on both areas, including regions of where the pain spread, the boy would feel closer to orderly; though this would not be a full treatment. To further alleviate the pain, she palpated upon his arm and began using her skill. The combination of healing and soothing would triumph the pain and grant movement. Moments following, she studied the anguished face of Kuroda ease and asked, "How do you feel? I can assist you to the infirmary if you'd li-" Disrupted by the grogginess and obscured vision she sustained, she shook her head and nictitated to rectify this condition. Raising her hand to her head she attempted to stabilize the dizziness. Awaiting the response of the Nocturne, she tried to repress the effects of their head collision.
She could at least be happy for the victory she achieved against Kuroda Daichi. | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,830 | 1,264 | 169 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
Zephyr was bored beyond belief. His fight hadn't taken that long, and he'd recuperated enough for the three on three fights. His eyes drifted across the room before settling on Leval and the new vampire girl a few feet away from him, immersed in conversation. He picked up short snatches of the conversation, dull and flowery language he couldn't believe anyone still used. Nodah had filled up Zephyr's opening for people who talked like ancient royalty, and he found the idea that it was so common exasperating. Leval and the girl seemed to be hitting it off and getting along just fine, and Zephyr decided it was time to amuse himself a little bit. He considered going ver to them, but decided his other course of action would be better. "Just kiss her already, Leval!" He hollered, cupping his hands around his lips to carry the sound and mentioning the illusionist's name to make sure he noticed. He sat back again with a satisfied smirk, watching them. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,831 | 1,264 | 170 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Daichi winced at every slight movement he attempted to make. She didn't hold back on that hit, did she? He settled into one position that seemed to provide some sort of relief to his suffering. "Hold still for a moment..." The succubus approached him once again, and his eyes shot open in an instant. "No- don't touch me!" He growled at her, raising a hand to swat hers away. However, he was struck by a twinge of pain, sending him right back into torment as he keeled over onto his back. Kuroda's breathing pitched when he realized how defenseless he was from one simple hit. Clenching his teeth, the cat slammed a fist on the ground once again to vent out the anger that was threatening to flow out of him. Disgraced. She ruined my reputation. She ruined my pride. The corners of Daichi's lips quivered as he struggled to keep the heat contained- the last thing he wanted to do was expend his energy and irritate the injury even more. He shut his eyes tightly and turned his head away from Nuna in a fit.
While he was looking away, he felt a sudden warmth sweep over his body. The Nocturne peeked through one eye at his company to see that she was using her healing abilities on him. Great. I lose to her and now I have to rely on her to heal the injuries she caused because of my stupidity. Kuroda grumbled under his breath, and a pout formed on his face while he did so. He didn't want to admit that her actions were helping quite a bit. I should never have underestimated her. I got way too cocky towards the end. Only a few seconds passed and Daichi could feel the nerves in his arms and legs working without much pain shooting through his core, save for the few pangs of soreness every now and then. The pending wrath he had aimed towards Nuna apparently died down with the pain as a result of her succubus touch. However, he refused to forget the cause of his ache.
He sat up promptly after Nuna pulled away, and he flashed a glare in her direction. "How do you feel? I can assist you to the infirmary if you'd li-" Her sentence was cut short as she groped the side of her head, expressing some sort of discomfort. However, being as dismissive as he was, Daichi went on without paying her much attention. "Just so you know, I went easy on you." With a lame attempt to salvage whatever dignity he had left, he hopped to his feet from his spot and stretched his arms behind his head. The cat tugged his beanie off his head and ruffled his hair in frustration. His ears twitched accordingly, and he prepared to glide past the succubus to the newly formed door. Clutching his hat tightly in one hand, Kuroda made to tug the door open with the other, leaving his new enemy behind in the all-white chamber. With that, the Nocturne stormed out of the room and was headed straight for the large doors on the far side of the training hall. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,832 | 1,264 | 171 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
"No... I mean more like- where are you from? What made you decide to come here? If you don't mind my asking of course." Rowan was a little taken aback by his question that delved deeper than she initially thought. She lifted her head to gaze up at the ceiling, her mind searching for a concise answer. "He's curious about that?" Finally, the vampire opened her mouth to speak. "I am from... a secluded region of Matara." Rowan's small voice trailed off. " 'Why I came here?' That is a question even I do not know the answer to." She let out a soft chuckle and reclined against the wall. "One could say I came here to--" A deep voice boomed from across the training hall and easily overlapped Rowan's mumbling.
"Just kiss her already, Leval!" The towering demon shouted in their direction, a triumphant grin visible on his face. Rowan paused with her lips still parted and she stared at the silver haired creature in both awe and disbelief. "Did that demon just...-" Unsure of how to react, Rowan masked her emotions to the best of her ability and quickly turned her head to face Leval. "Are you associated with him, Leval Lamrue?" She pointed his finger in the demon's direction and furrowed her brows. Rowan felt a wave of embarrassment threaten to overcome her face of indifference, as her cheeks started to color. "Why must he feel the need to declare such a statement so openly?" Her eyes darted around the room as if to count how many creatures were focused on the two of them at that moment. "All of this unwanted attention... it would prove to be a nuisance if Leval's reputation was tarnished because of this." The vampire pursed her lips tightly and made sure to mark the unidentified demon in the back of her mind. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,833 | 1,264 | 172 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Rowan seemed slightly surprised at his question, but not upset, rather than being upset she seemed to be thinking about her answer. Leval waited patiently, hands crossed in his lap pleased that he had gotten the conversation up and running again. "I am from... a secluded region of Matara." She paused for a moment and then chuckled, leaning up against the shaded wall they sat at. "One could say I came here to--" And at that point, the Demon that sat close to them shouted rather loudly, "Just kiss her already, Leval!" Leval stiffened at turned. He vaguely remembered the Demon from breakfast, sitting at the table with some of his roommates, but had never gotten his name. He was wearing a huge smirk on his face watching to see their reactions. 'He's the type that enjoys watching others squirm. The best way to deal with him is just to ignore him and move on... but the hell with that.' Leval felt a fire searing through his veins. Leval eyed the Demon for a moment, looking over his facial features inquisitively for a moment and then quite deliberately turned away from him back to Rowan.
Rowan appeared to be rather indifferent to the comment, but he saw that color had to begun to rise in her cheeks. "Are you associated with him, Leval Lamrue?" Leval raised his hands and snapped his fingers, above the Demon's head a comically over-sized and distorted caricature of the Demons face appeared with the word "Obnoxious" tattooed on its head in rainbow text that shined quite brightly. The figure turned to face the rest of the room, and began to shout loudly enough that everyone in the room could hear it in a near perfect imitation of the Demon's voice. "I ENJOY BEING LOUD AND ANNOYING! BEHOLD THE SPLENDOR THAT IS THE FABULOUS ME!" With that an large red arrow pointing down at the Demon appeared, shooting off bright explosions of light and color. 'Now for the finishing touch...' Leval had the illusion continue to shout bizarre outbursts such as "MY MOTHER TOLD ME I WAS THE MOST SPECIALIST BOY" and "I AM A SCCCCCAARRRRYYYY DEMOONNN WOOOooOOO." The effect would only last for a minute or so, and had used up the remainder of his magical energy. 'Worth it. Though I have just definitely pissed off the massive demon behind me.' He came this close to regretting this decision before flashing Rowan a massive grin. "Y'know I think I saw him at breakfast, but I didn't have a chance to catch his name. I'll have to ask during lunch." | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,834 | 1,264 | 173 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
Zephyr settled back to watch the pair, looking pleased with the awkward look on the girl's face. She was blushing and everything. Leval looked pretty surprised as well, and Zephyr felt smug up until he found himself looking at a larger than life caricature of himself. What the... He thought, raising an eyebrow at the word on his forehead. He couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, along with the rest of the room. The illusion of him looked pretty similar, and and Leval had even gotten the voice almost right. His laughter only increased in volume when the illusion started talking about his mother and all, and he was laughing right up until the illusion faded. When it did, he kept chuckling for minutes after. That had been a pleasant although unexpected result, and even though he'd laughed, he had no qualms about beating up anyone who thought they could laugh at him in addition. It had been an unusual but effective comeback, and Zephyr found that he actually trusted and respected the illusionist more for it.
Standing up, he walked over to him and the vampire, a deadly serious look on his face. "That would have been hilarious," he started, "if my mother hadn't died a month before I came here." That was a lie, of course, he'd never known his parents, and he didn't particularly care to. It was probably a joke in bad taste as well, but he didn't really care. His face cracked into a grin, and he held out a hand to Leval. "Well played." | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,835 | 1,264 | 174 | 1,742 | 33 | Nuna Mori
After the massive consumption of her energy to revitalize the Nocturne, Nuna was abandoned in the training hall without his appreciation. "Just so you know, I went easy on you." Growing weary of this behavior, which occurred twice, she would have to think twice before healing anyone. Still kneeling on the ground, she rocked backward onto her feet, rising slowly, as her knees cracked, to prevent loss of balance. The only thing that comforted her was the sound of her heels bouncing around the room as she walked to the exit.
Once outside the training hall, the mass of people she had seen earlier were present. Everyone seemed to exhibit an extent of exhaustion and infliction. She was simply going to continue to the medical wing she searched for formerly. She had begun to leave a bad impression amongst the students as if she had a developed a structured relationship. She had no companionship, so she proceeded to the transporter with an objective task, rather than the subliminal subjective perspective.
After various conversations with other students, found her way into the infirmary. On arrival, she noticed two beings in the room; one being the nurse and another person with vivid clothing lying on the cot. Redirecting her attention to the nurse, she explained her issue and was told lie down for she would tend to her momentarily. As she walked across the room, memories of the way she was treated by others agitated her. But how had she treated to the others to deserve such? The train of thought ceased as the nurse approached Mori. "You look troubled. Is everything alright?" Fumbling to find the words to respond she sputtered, "Y-yeah. It's just my head bothering me. That's all." The nurse looked at her with assurance, choosing not to pursue the topic. It was as if she heard the line countless of times and preferred to leave things alone. Inspecting Mori's body, the nurse identified the areas of injury and began administering aid. Placing the cool skin of her hand on her forehead, Nuna winced but calmed as the sensations made her tranquil. She felt the same presence around her abdomen as both hands of the nurse managed her recovery. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,836 | 1,264 | 175 | 1,706 | 30 | Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
"I would be gladder still if lightning had never been a card on the table," Nodah said tilting his head. Desdemona could agree that the lightning was a bit extreme, but she knew it would be end the battle. "I had not known creatures summoned from the grave could conjure lightning. I do wonder though, if the barrier were indeed what whipped your serpent's tail. With a heart so full of passion to scale to the top, would the absence of a barrier have deterred you or stayed your hand?" he continues.
“Necromancers are full of surprises.” Desdemona smirked, “Even without the barrier I would’ve fought the same way.” | Name: Dᴇsᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴀ Cᴏʀᴄᴇʟʟᴀ
Class: Nᴇᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇʀ
Race: Dᴇᴍᴏɴ
Appearance:
5'4" tall/Curvy Build
Power Ranking: A
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics:
Ruthless and arrogant. She loves a good challenge and is definitely someone you shouldn't get on the bad side of. Has a soft spot for cats.
Main powers: Uses harvested magic of the dead as a way to amplify her own strength. Can resurrect dead creatures for various amounts of time depending on how strong the creature is.
Backstory: Desdemona Corcella has been through rigorous magical training her whole life. She has fought the dangerous creatures in the Barren Lands and Wilds, and has been accustomed to death from a young age. As the sole heir of a world-renowned family of demons, she has to maintain the tradition of dominating any competition with the use of powerful necromancy. Desdemona's family holds her to a very high standard, and doesn't accept any failures. Any level of disappointment will result in extreme punishments and because of this Desdemona has devoted most of her efforts into becoming the best at everything she does. Desdemona is currently at Rosewood and sees it as another test to prove her superiority to her family.
Other info: Dislikes Pixies, she sees them as being annoying bugs and wishes she could squash them all. |
46,837 | 1,264 | 176 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
Zephyr raised an eyebrow at the vampire as she stood up, looking down at her with a bored expression on his face. "Maybe it isn't when you're already dead. Look, I'm no angel. I've got a twisted sense of humour. Does that surprise you?"
He turned to Leval. "I don't mean to dismiss your girlfriend like I don't care about her. It's just that I don't. But like I was saying, that was a good comeback." He put his hand back down and in his pocket, looking at the illusionist. Zephyr usually had a good idea of how people reacted to certain things. Little miss righteous, for instance, glaring at him like he'd been the one to kill his fictional mother, probably had him at the top of her hate list now. Not that he minded, she already bored him to death. What he wasn't very sure of right now was how Leval would react. Either back her up, or accept the compliment with good nature. Both options were equally likely, and he decided to give him the chance to react. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,838 | 1,264 | 177 | 2,422 | 1,600 | <Snipped quote by The ghost in black>
Reas disappeared into the smoke again just before Mischa's shot could get him, though one question was answered for Mischa, Reas does use illusions, he figured this when he realized that the smoke was keeping a certain distance away from him, he kept looking around but started relying on his hearing more. Reas seems to have neglected using sound with his illusions, he didn't hear the sound of the skates on the floor from the two coming at his sides so he ignored them, he did hear something in the smoke though. he quickly raised his rifle toward it and fired a void round which exploded on impact with whatever it hit.
Reas felt the round hit and flew back against the padded wall feeling as though his chest was on fire. He landed on his hands and knees coughing as her felt the smoke begin to clear,"that. Really. Sucks" he said between breaths and then collapsed onto the floor with a smile on his face glad there were strong student in this school. "I concede you win this time" he said while his voice was still hoarse. The door to the room opened Reas slowly stood up to roll out the door silently glad that the room had the protective barriers or else he would probably be dead at that moment. "good fight" he called back, not even bitter about the loss
Reas came out of the door and rolled his way over to a set of benches. Sitting down he started poking at the spot on his chest where the void round had hit him. almost dead center...wow her thought and then winced as he touched the area feeling as though the matchup was a bit one sided but it couldn't be helped. | Name:
Reas Grimorea
Class:
Illusionist
Race:
Human
Appearance:
5'6" tall / 127 lb not much muscle tone but looks solid. instaed of the red sweat shirt it is black
Power Ranking:
A
Pick 2 Classes of your Choice:
1. Art
2. Cooking
Character's Characteristics:
Very studious, Never without his Rollerblades, Likes sour foods but doesn't eat much, likes to practice regular boxing and a modified style of Kick-boxing which revolves around using his Rollerblades as a means of accelerating his legs to insane speeds. He has a bad habit of being stobborn when faced with a challenge, though is often nice to others who share interests with him.
Main Power(s) based on Class:
Adept at making enviromental illusions such as producing realistic fire and refracting light to blend in with his surroundings.
Backstory:
The son of a Skilled Mechanic and average magician who was badly injured when he refused to pay the local crooks "Chimera". Reas was given his Rollerblades a few weeks before he came to Rosewood where he is usually the quiet one in class.
Reas is always riding his rollerblades, so much in fact that most dont see him wearing any other shoes but there is a good reason for this as they help channel his powers. He was born with the medical condition "Muscle Hypertrophy" which caused his muscles to over develop as a kid and has increased his strength by 10 times which earned him the name cyclop's hammer from his strength.
Any Other Info:
Constantly has a ribbon of illusionary fire wrapped around his leg as a reminder of his quest to get revenge on the thugs that hurt his father. Will ride his Rollerblades in any enviroment as they are powered by his magic allowing him to push his speed to the limit and beyond as well as boost his general leg power (jumping, running, ETC), Reas was known to get into fights and had earned the nickname cyclop's hammer for his strong punches that were like being hit with his namesake weapon |
46,839 | 1,264 | 178 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Instead of the roar of anger, that Leval had expected to come from the large Demon, he heard a heavy guffaw from laughter from him and several of the students around the room. Even Rowan appeared to be stifling a giggle with a hand to her mouth. She gave him a quiet smile, which disappeared from her face when Leval heard the sound of approaching heavy footsteps. He turned to look at the approaching Demon, he reflexively reached for his magic to make himself more imposing, but felt nothing. 'Right out of energy...fantastic.' The Demon that had been laughing just a moment before looked pissed off, and Leval felt the hairs rise up on his arms, but kept his face impassive. "That would have been hilarious, if my mother hadn't died a month before I came here." Leval's eyebrow rose, the Demon was clearly lying. And he only confirmed it when he reach out his hand and said "Well played."
Rowan glared at the Demon, "You claim you do not find it to be hilarious, still and all your expression conveys otherwise." She rose up to her feet and continued, "-death is assuredly not something to be taken lightly, though I am sure you are well aware of that." It seemed like Rowan had taken the Demon's lie quite personally. The Demon shifted his eyes from him to her, "Maybe it isn't when you're already dead. Look, I'm no angel. I've got a twisted sense of humour. Does that surprise you?" He looked back to Leval, "I don't mean to dismiss your girlfriend like I don't care about her. It's just that I don't. But like I was saying, that was a good comeback." After the exchange with Rowan, Leval frowned. He had been willing to let bygones be bygones and shake the Demon's hand, but the Demon was starting to remind him of the bullies that had targeted back home.
"Thanks for the compliment, shame about your personality." Leval said coldly. "You can leave us be now, you're boring me." He saw Reas step out of the fighting room, shortly followed my Mischa. He turned his back to the Demon. "It looks like all the fights have finished up Rowan. Let me show you where the dining hall is for lunch." He motioned for Rowan to follow, without paying anymore attention to the Demon and began to walk out of the room | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,840 | 1,264 | 179 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
The demon's harsh words struck the vampire on a more personal level. They triggered a series of unwanted recollections that she preferred to keep buried deep withing her but she had become highly sensitized to all that was occurring around her at the moment. Disregarding her in one smooth motion, the tall figure reverted his attention back to Leval as if her short lecture was of great indifference. "Perverse indeed." Her thoughts were trite as she pulled her hood back over her head. "It doesn't require a pure and virtuous soul to show some reverence for the dead. They are a sanctified people, and certainly not a force to be reckoned with." She closed her eyes while in the shelter of the darkness her cloak cast over her face, and her lips started moving briskly. Unintelligible words were spilling from her mouth causing a menacing aura to cascade around her that wasn't quite visible to the naked eye. A faint streak of gray reached along her loose strands of hair, and she did a quick turn on her heels to flutter her black mantle behind her, flashing the demon another frozen stare and ensuring they both exchanged an unwavering gaze before departing behind Leval.
"That creature's name is Zephyr. A demon, and a Druid." A hushed whisper reverberated through her mind, and the spirit that whispered said information vanished as quickly as it appeared. Rowan blinked a few times, and her hair returned to its original black hue shortly after using that small amount of power. Eventually the vampire matched her steps with the human, walking alongside Leval in silence as they accompanied each other to the dining hall. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,841 | 1,264 | 180 | 2,788 | 1,595 | Mischa lowered his rifle when the smoke cleared and he saw Reas on the ground. He put the rifle on his back as he left the combat room after Reas and looking around realized that they must have been the last ones done, odd given how quick the fight had gone. it also seemed that everyone was headed out to lunch, which Mischa also thought was a little odd as it only seemed a short while ago that they had had breakfast. either way, Mischa made his way out toward the dining hall with the others. | Mischa Ezkalion
Death's grasp could not contain him
yet life's hands could not catch him |
46,842 | 1,264 | 181 | 1,576 | 358 | “Necromancers are full of surprises.” Desdemona said, “Even without the barrier I would’ve fought the same way.”
"Would you?" Nodah said, feigning some surprise. "How bold of you to admit so, in the sight of gods and men." This, he said, with neither judgement nor scandal. It seemed a callous thing to declare - that another's life could be fairly-traded for the sweetness of one's own victory - but Nodah could not find it in him to be touched to his morbid bone. Demons seemed hot-blooded. As it were, Zephyr had had a row with Leval and the slight girl he had yet to meet, over a simple matter. But who was Nodah to say? He had only heard strains of their ill-fated exchange.
"Indeed, necromancers are a cunning lot," agreed Nodah, blue eyes shifting to emerald green in quirked-brow amusement at Desdemona's confidence. "But, pray do not lose faith in the rest of us. Illusionists can rob you of trust and dependency of your senses. A gravitin may tug the world from beneath your feet, so that only they know how to master and maneouver their way through, whilst others are kept off the ground." Cleanly, Nodah swept the ball of his thumb along the blade. Raising his finger to the light, he peered at the scarlet smear of Desdemona's blood. Demon blood. There had been old, shrivelled folklore of its magical properties from the secluded backwaters he had sprung from. A lick of it, he had been told, and you shall find yourself half-immortal. He doubted the very validity of the statement, and he was not keen to taste liquid copper. He spun the blade about the knuckles of his fingers, and slid it neatly into its sheathe beneath his shirt. "Ta, Desdemona," he said, beginning to back away, his grin wide. His collar slid to the side, threatening to fall off his shoulder, to reveal the feather designs that were tattooed over his skin. "I would like to see the infirmary wing for myself, now. It's been an absolute pleasure." Spinning around, he lengthened his stride and - facing no one and nothing but the open doors - he allowed the smile to slip off his face.
Nodah took the portal up, and after a lurching ride which helped his aching joints in no way, he stepped off the platform to notice two other students seated to have their injuries tended to. Among them, was Nuna Mori. Nodah crafted a quick smile for her. Walking to the cot opposite her, he sat on its edge to face her. "I see we were both unfortunate enough to sustain battle-wounds and seek medical attention for them." A second nurse - a portly woman with steady hands and cushioning palms - came up, and Nodah showed her the patterns which weaved their way up his inner-arms and shoulder blades, lifting his shirt for the briefest of moments to reveal a traced torso as well. He explained the joint-ache to her in a quiet voice that still persisted in reverberating throughout the sterile room. He cast an eye around the snow-white sheets, and wondered what tales of suffering they could behold.
At the nurse's soft question of, "What happened?" Nodah simply replied, "Lightning." She gave a quizzical look, not quite believing. Nodah returned it with a shrug, and as she walked away to gather medication, Nodah turned his eyes to Nuna. "Are you well?" he asked. She seemed in poor spirits. Had her duel ended in crushing defeat?
When the nurse returned, it was with a salve in hand. Nodah rolled up his long sleeves in preparation. Fingers lightly dipping into the bottle, she rubbed them in small circles up his arm, and Nodah watched with some fascination as the feathery patterns slowly diminished, leaving behind nothing but faded imprints, only to be noticed by sharp eyes. His gaze flickered to Nuna around the nurse. "I did not have opportunity to speak to you of what happened at breakfast," he said, voice light and eyes flashing from green to ocher. With a rumbling chuckle, his grin became mischievous. "It seems to be a habit of yours, to accost half the student body here. If you aren't careful, you might have all the male population fleeing from the sight of such a lovely image as yourself. And wouldn't that be a pity?" Gradually, he sobered. "I will not lie," he continued, in a slightly more somber voice than before, though his lips remained mildly upturned. "It seems neither wise nor sustainable to set your sights on a different boy each day; you would exhaust them before the end of term."
The nurse motioned for Nodah to lift his shirt, but Nodah declined with a mild stare that turned frosty for seconds. As she slipped away - barely aware of her shuddering shoulders - to give Nodah a prescription of the salve for private-ministration, he turned back to Nuna, awaiting her reply. | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,843 | 1,264 | 182 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr
What could possibly be wrong with my personality? Zephyr mused, not in the least put off by Leval's cold reception. The vampire, very predictably, followed Leval out of the hall, but not before holding Zephyr's gaze in a cold stare, which he returned with a savage grin, baring his sharp teeth and winking at her. He put his hands in his pockets, strolling out of the hall with a satisfied smirk. Friends never hurt, but enemies were always so much more fun, and he had the feeling he'd just made one. He had to give her credit, though, for her apparent strength of character even if it was coupled with a debilitating sense of the moral high ground. He wasn't sure what time it was, and the time seemed to have passed rather quickly, but he was definitely not going to pass up the chance for more food. It was a side effect of his early years in the Wilds that he'd never quite shaken, the inability to pass up any chance of a meal in case he didn't get another for a while. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,844 | 1,264 | 183 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
Hands deep in his pockets, Daichi held his breath in an attempt to maintain an internal balance of his emotions. Of course, on the outside he wore an expression of great vexation. His mind was reeling of all the things he had done wrong in such a short time period, especially the fight he could have easily won. What a load of bull shit. It's only morning and my day has been complete and utter bull shit! The Nocturne sucked his teeth and put more strength into his strides, stomping his feet on the ground as he advanced from the portal and towards the dining hall. Kicking the door open with the heavy heel of his suede shoes, Kuroda strolled into the cafeteria with a grimace on his face. His hat was stuffed crudely into his back pocket, and his exposed cat ears twitched and turned in various directions of the room as if he was on high alert. The last thing I need is someone else to sneak up and rob me of my sanity once again. The cat growled under his breath and stood on the back of the line to the food kiosks. A few startled glances were aimed in his direction, most likely from the threatening air around him.
A short time passed and Daichi was finally faced with the same machine as earlier that morning. The glass easily reflected the irate expression on his face, which served to snap him back to reality- what was the point in being fit to be tied? What's done is done, and scaring off the creatures around him was not going to solve anything. I've already made a fool out of myself within the first 3 hours of school- people probably think I'm way too dramatic, and I don't blame them. I need to keep my cool from now on. Come on Daichi, get yourself together! He knew very well that his thoughts were futile, but a pep talk was what he needed to keep himself going. Plus, a line of hungry students was forming behind him.
"Isn't it a little early for lunch...?" The cat had only just realized what the time read in the top right corner of the screen before him. "Well, whatever. I could use a nice meal." His rambling ceased when he arrived at the conclusion that the food was in fact a necessary item to replenish his energy after the fight. Some students could certainly use the break, after all. Eating was probably his best bet at a speedy recovery, seeing how he didn't want to go to the infirmary and meet with another terrible fate. Daichi continued on with the routine, swiping his identification card across the scanner and receiving his steaming food on a silver platter only seconds later.
Kuroda lifted up the tray and silently made his way over to an empty table in the far corner of the room, hoping to seclude himself and eat in peace. He freed his fingers from the leather gloves and cracked his knuckles when the cooling air finally came into contact with his heated skin. The scent of the pasta wafted upwards into his nostrils, and all of his worries related to the events prior were washed away in an instant. He rolled up the sleeves of his jacket and tossed the black gloves onto the table beside his meal, and proceeded to consume the food with a newfound hunger. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,845 | 1,264 | 184 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Leval and Rowan walked over to the Dining Hall quietly. "Sorry for the trouble back there. I hope I didn't embarrass you in there." The portal made the trip rather short, but time had seemed to pass rather oddly in the Training area, a quick check of his connector showed that he had quite a lot of time before the next phase of the class. "Hey Rowan, I have to grab a couple things, I'll see you later before the next round." He gave her a little wave and went back over to the portal. He searched through the options and found the maintenance room in the list, and gave a quick swipe of his ID. He seemed to have gotten used to the portal by this point, and suffered no ill effects through the ride.
The maintenance room was filled with cleaning supplies, broken equipment, tools, and scrap covering almost every available surface in the room. The was also a maintenance man in room, rather heavy-set with a think mustache. "Um do you mind if I grab a couple things." The maintenance worker grunted and nodded, seemingly rather focused on fixing up a device he was repairing. Leval search through the metal shelves along the walls searching. 'Ah there we go...' He pulled down four aerosol cans and put them on a pile on the floor. Leval did several more circuits of the room grabbing a couple more items, a bag he had found in a corner of the room covered in dust, and a tool belt. He didn't have any time for a complex construction but he stored the items all in one bag and turned back to the maintenance worker. "Thank you." The man grunted once again, not bothering to lift his eyes from his task. He had spent some time looking around and gathering supplies, so he went back to the portal and shifted down to lunch hall once again. | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,846 | 1,264 | 185 | 1,576 | 358 | Nuna Mori
The comfort of the treatment put her into a daze; she began to think about the nurse assisting her. How does she use her powers for so long? For sure, she is a Druid. With the majority of students here, won't her energy deplete? Tempted to ask questions, her lips parted, attempting, but failing to produce sound as she was cut abruptly by the new arrival with the opening of the door. It was He seemed to adjust to the new surrounding identifying the people in the room, establishing eye contact with Nuna, accompanied by a smile. Sitting across from her on the cot he said, "I see we were both unfortunate enough to sustain battle-wounds and seek medical attention for them." Nuna replied comically, "It would be the best course of action, even for a Druid of my caliber."
The conversation halted with the appearance of a second nurse, who started inquiring about his reasons for visiting. Maybe there was a secret cult of nurses hiding somewhere waiting for students to be injured. This random thought came to her as she viewed Nodah's incident. He proceeded to lift his shirt up, briefly, revealing scars that traced his torso. Who is capable of such? Moreso, is he okay? Lightning did this to him, by whom? He resumed the communication with, "Are you well?" Nuna was shocked with this question, for her injuries were nothing compared to his. I am alright. I see a bigger concern with your scars. During the interval of time provided as the nurse tending to Nodah returned, her assistant lightened her use of energy to a complete stop, applying pressure to the areas of infliction. Stating that she suffered some head trauma, the nurse advised that Mori should take things easy for the time being.
After her departure, she cocked her head to one side to see Nodah's scars slowly fading away. Her gaze was met by his and maintained as he spoke, "I did not have opportunity to speak to you of what happened at breakfast," His eyes altered hues before he spoke further, "It seems to be a habit of yours, to accost half the student body here. If you aren't careful, you might have all the male population fleeing from the sight of such a lovely image as yourself. And wouldn't that be a pity?" Pausing mid-sentence once more, "I will not lie," he continued with, "It seems neither wise nor sustainable to set your sights on a different boy each day; you would exhaust them before the end of term." Nuna stared at him for a few seconds before she responded, "With the way you are talking you seem to care more than any else. I suppose you are saying that I forfeit my nature in turn for others perspective of me. Considerate, but it simply cannot be done. Unless you are implying you have developed some type of connection for me then I understand. The slight changes of intonations in your voice suggest so as well. If it would make you happy that I focus only on you, say so and it will come to fruition. But know this if you do not answer my question straightforward, then your attempt to help with my problem will be nullified. So state what it was you were attempting to say and if you choose accept my offer. Hopefully you do not presume a negative impression of me, unlike others." She said all this while sustaining a monotonous tone as if she had brokered a deal. | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,847 | 1,264 | 186 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
"Sorry for the trouble back there. I hope I didn't embarrass you in there." Leval broke the silence rather casually. "It is quite alright." Rowan shook her head and remained facing forward while they approached the dining hall. "-Hey Rowan, I have to grab a couple things, I'll see you later before the next round." The vampire shifted her head towards her side and ushered a nod in the human's direction. Shortly after he waved at her, Leval pivoted around and made his way back to the portal. Rowan watched him for a moment before turning to make her way towards the dining hall, this time on her own. She was quite astonished by how beautiful the whole scenery was, the intricate use of glass and the floating tables that reflected the light from even more tall windows. "This school is rather fond of natural light." She brought her hand to cover her eyes and let out a sigh before joining the line behind the mysterious machines.
Rowan was not particularly hungry- not after she just consumed another beings blood. It was quite a satisfactory meal, and she would be able to run without eating or drinking anything else for a few days. However, she didn't want to stand out too much in the cafeteria. Her flowing cloak was sure to call enough attention to her anyway. As she finally neared the strange vendor, an unfamiliar voice rang before her. She was prompted to scan her identification card, and she hesitated before doing just that. A small tray was ejected on a gleaming platter, accompanied by sterling silver cutlery. Rowan raised an eyebrow at how formal everything appeared, but she quickly snapped out of her daze and lifted up her meal. Glancing around the room, she scanned the area for any empty tables. In the far corner of the room, only one table appeared to be almost completely empty, save for a male feline creature.
Reluctance took over the vampire and she took her time strolling in the table's direction. As she approached her fellow classmate, she was amused by how intently he was devouring his food. In silence, she sat as far from the other creature as possible and lurched over her tray for a moment. Rowan glanced over at the nocturne before returning to her own dish. "He does not seem to have noticed me." She was filled with relief at the thought that she wouldn't have to expend any more energy attempting to introduce herself. With that, she lifted the frosted glass to her nose an swirled the red liquid around prior to sniffing it suspiciously. "-tomato?" She wrinkled her nose and braced herself for the first sip of the drink. "...what a peculiar taste. Humans are really innovative, coming up with such ideas like a brew from tomatoes." | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,848 | 1,264 | 187 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
Halfway through scarfing down his food, the Nocturne lifted his focus from the plate for just a second. He hadn't noticed the other presence that occupied one of the empty seats on the far side of the table. Kuroda swallowed his mouthful rather loudly and sat up straight once again, wiping the remnants of his meal from his mouth with the back of his hand. Did I scare her off? His lips formed a faint grin, attempting to look as amiable as he could possibly manage at the current moment. "Hey, why're you so far away? You left so many seats between us, I can't help but think I smell bad or something." He spoke lightheartedly, hoping to grab the hooded figure's attention.
However, they seemed rather intrigued by the drink in their hand. It was a vibrant shade of red, bearing a strong resemblance to the color of blood. It couldn't possibly be... right? The cat cocked a brow as he awaited some form of response from the creature, still unsure of their race or even their gender. Judging from the small frame, he could only assume it was a petite girl who was still shrouded in mystery. She even gave off an air of elegance, considering how perfect her posture was even though she was simply sitting at an informal lunch table. The more Daichi stared, the more curious he became. Then again, curiosity killed that cat. I wanna see her face. The smile grew as if to show he meant no harm in speaking to her. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,849 | 1,264 | 188 | 1,543 | 198 | Lance Delmero
Lance sauntered into the dining hall casually, looking around. He'd arrived rather late, due to the frankly last minute nature of his parents' decision to send him here.
The test he'd faced outside the gate had barely been a challenge, though, and he hadn't been too sure about Rosewood's reputation. It had only taken a few shards of ice, lots of mist and his naturally dexterous self to defeat the bull-like shadow creatures that had assaulted him outside the gates. That minor scuffle had earned him is ranking of A, and he'd walked through the huge iron wrought gates as calmly as if walking through a garden. The first person he'd met had been the elf Yayo Fiji, who hadn't seemed very pleased with Lance's arrival. Apparently, Lance had arrived right in the middle of the first lesson. Even so, Yayo Fiji gave him his necklace, which had a shard of sapphire inlaid in pure white metal he'd never quite seen before.
The opulence of the place didn't even register with Lance in the least as he explored the grand school building, checking out his room and other corridors he was probably not allowed in. It was only when his stomach gave a loud rumble that she thought about lunch, and fortuitously found himself among the students headed to the dining hall.
Upon his entrance, he simply followed the other students' method of getting food, going to the machines at the sides and walking away with a plate of noodles. His eyes landed on a nearly empty table with just two figures on it, and he smirked upon noticing the Nocturne. A cat. He did so like those creatures. He made his way to the table and sat opposite the Nocturne, a few seats away from the hooded figure.
"Lance Delmero, a newer student than the rest of you," he introduced himself to the two people easily, not waiting for a response before he started eating. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,850 | 1,264 | 189 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
An awkward silence fell upon the table once again- the hooded figure didn't seem up to responding to Kuroda's attempt at sparking a conversation. Well, can't say I didn't try... He propped an elbow up on the table and rested his chin on his open palm, letting out a tired sigh while doing so. With his other hand, his started toying with the plate of food stationed before him. He poked brainlessly at the fillet which had lost all traces of heat as a result of his dawdling. The cat reached for the glass of orange juice, leaving a ring of water where the cup once was. When he brought the beverage to his lips and took a large gulp of his drink, his ears twitched when he heard light footsteps that seemed to be headed straight for his table. From the corner of his eye, Daichi noticed a lanky figure with silver hair advancing toward him. His presence wasn't one he recognized, so he could only assume it was a person he hadn't met before. Daichi kept the glass suspended in the air as he watched the towering elf approach the table.
Damn elves... He gaped bitterly at the new company as he sized up the male who was clearly several feet taller than him. However, he quickly changed his attitude once the elf settled down in the chair across from him. His lips curled into a grin. Of all the seats, he choose that one? Kuroda slid his tray forward a bit and leaned his chair back slightly, kicking his feet up onto the table nonchalantly. "Lance Delmero, a newer student than the rest of you," he stated casually, proceeding to eat his food without giving either students the chance to respond. The cat folded his hands behind his head and eyed the white-haired specimen with great interest. This guy's pretty ballsy, coming it with that kinda attitude. I like it. Daichi rocked the chair back and forth slightly, tipping it on its hind legs before he spoke.
"You're new, huh? I never would have guessed, considering I don't remember seeing a white-haired elf such as yourself at all today," he began, narrowing his amber eyes in the process. "Kuroda Daichi, a not-so new student." | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,851 | 1,264 | 190 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
Rowan glanced over at the nocturne and was a little startled when she realized he was looking straight at her. "Did he just speak to me?" She remained silent for a few moments as she attempted to figure out whether or not the other party had just directed a comment to her. While she sat down she picked the seat farthest away from the other creature so that she didn't invade his privacy. Rowan concluded that he picked a lone table in the corner of the room for a reason. Unable to determine what it was he had said, Rowan placed the cup down delicately and parted her lips to respond with a question. "Pardon me, I...-" Her almost inaudible fragment was cut off immediately by the sudden entrance of a silver-haired elf with gleaming red eyes. His aura alone sent chills down the vampire's spine.
"Lance Delmero, a newer student than the rest of you." After settling down in the seat across from the black-haired cat, Rowan stiffly turned away from the two of them. She couldn't help but feel relieved knowing that someone else showed up so she wouldn't have to entertain the conversation further. The nocturne's expression was one wrought with anger before she sat down at the table. Luckily he seemed less distressed following the addition of the creature that introduced himself as Lance. Rather than jumping into the conversation, Rowan continued sipping her drink and instead picked up a few bits and pieces of their words. Kuroda Daichi and Lance Delmero... they both give off such strong waves of energy that even I can feel it. Are they both higher ranks than I? She clasped the cup tightly in her hands and rested it on the glass before her. Her gaze shifted from the two boys to her reflection that stared right back at her from the gleaming surface. "Is it too late for me to greet them both? Perhaps... I may have already left a bad impression on Kuroda Daichi." Rowan pursed her lips and brushed off the thought. With that, she removed her hood with a new resolve. "I am Rowan Delacroix. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She spoke as loudly as possible, almost yelling in her mind but barely a murmur to others. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,852 | 1,264 | 191 | 1,543 | 198 | Lance Delmero
Lance raised a slender eyebrow at the cat, considering his introduction and pausing with a forkful of noodles halfway to his mouth. He broke into a grin. "Yeah, I'm pretty hard to forget," He agreed, chuckling. The cat had called himself Kuroda Daichi, hadn't he? Lance appraised Kuroda as he continued to eat. The nocturne lounged comfortably in his chair, rocking it as he spoke with a certain calm assurance. His eyes moved to the hooded figure, watching as they pulled down their hood to reveal a dark haired vampire underneath.
"I am Rowan Delacroix. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her voice was just audible over the background noise of the cafeteria, and she seemed distinctly uncomfortable to be talking to them. How much of a recluse was she? Lance wondered, even as he gave her an easy smile. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. What's a pretty girl like you doing hiding under a hood?" Lance had always been a social guy, possibly too flirty for his own good. Then again, he'd found that good will with others had made his way much easier. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,853 | 1,264 | 192 | 1,368 | 222 | Nuna Mori
His response was long and well versed. Having to repeat his words in her head would only propagate the subsided pain. Nuna did listen attentively and allowed Nodah to be theatric as he spoke. She wasn't going to argue with him, what he said was meaningful and heeded. In response to his offer to go to lunch, she rose from the cot using her arm to push her torso into an upright position. Noticing the same effects that inhibited her earlier were not present, she swung her legs off the side the temporary bed and hopped off. Now standing, she walked progressively to Nodah and grabbed his hand. She interlocked her fingers with his and stated, "Yes, I am well enough. Let's go." | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,854 | 1,264 | 193 | 1,576 | 358 | Nuna Mori
Nuna Mori did not wait for his reaction or any action. She tugged him along with his hand in her grasp as she lead the way to the cafeteria. The little resistance that was met was ebbed from her movement. Before exiting the doors, she made sure to thank the nurse, regardless if she did so prior. Walking down the hallway, she caught the glances of onlookers and was taxing herself to find an answer. "I guess we look good as a couple, eh?" Brushing this matter aside, she escorted him until they reached the teleportal. She did not release his hand but instead tightened her grip, fortifying her defense for the assault the transporter was about to release. The warmth from his supple hand intensified as she squeezed, bolstering Nuna. The lights, sound, and motion were not appropriate for her as she was still recuperating from her injuries. The thought of the Druid nurse and what she was attempting to inquire were recalled along with her injuries. It was disrupted as the teleportal's locomotion started. It was clear that it had inhibiting effects due to her reaction, but she stood firm and exited the hell train with her company.
"Huh, seems like we've been trekking for hours with all the commotion. Wouldn't you agree?" She listened to his response as she entered with him into their destination; the dining hall. She began to loosen her grip gradually as they approached the food kiosks. Obtaining her food, with the same procedure in the morning, she gestured to Nodah to follow her to a table. I led him to the cafeteria in haste, but he did not ever say that he would sit with me. I hope he will. She asked waiting for his response and to attain his meal, "Will you sit with me at the table? Excuse me for any encroachments on our journey."
The table she had pointed out was seated with Kuroda and company, yet to be identified. | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,855 | 1,264 | 194 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
Daichi chuckled under his breath along with Lance, appreciating that they both shared a similar sense of humor. He no longer felt the urge to eat, so he reached for his drink instead. As he was finishing it off in just a few gulps, a faint voice was heard from the right side of the table. If it hadn't been for his sharp hearing, he would have definitely missed the girl's statement. "I am Rowan Delacroix. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her face was finally revealed from beneath her hood, and Daichi had to admit that he wasn't expecting to see such a nice appearance under it- and a vampire, no less. The cat couldn't help but let out a whistle at the black haired female. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. What's a pretty girl like you doing hiding under a hood?" Before the Nocturne could speak up, Lance had already taken her attention with a rather flirtatious response.
This guy's got the moves. Daichi placed his empty glass down and resumed leaning his chair back while he observed the two of them in amusement. Just to make sure she was aware of his acknowledgement without interrupting the flow of conversation, the cat gave Rowan a nod followed by a cordial smile. Suddenly, a familiar student appeared and stationed himself by Rowan, seemingly in the nick of time. He may have done so subconsciously, but he sat between Lance and Rowan as if to deter the elf from pursuing the topic and further. Kuroda furrowed his brows at Leval. It's like he got even taller than this morning- is he seriously a human? When Leval turned to face him, the cat's expression quickly reverted to a more amiable one. "Nice to see you on your feet. Bad luck getting targeted like that." Daichi paused for a moment, unsure if that statement was meant to be sarcastic. Probably not. "Yeah, thanks. Pretty rough start for the first day, right?"
Daichi added a short laugh to the end of his statement before his sensitive nose picked up on a very pungent odor. His eyes darted towards the unappetizing bowl of porridge. His face contorted with distaste at the sight. "...what is that? It smells god awful." At that point, he leaned forward in his seat to get a better view of the peculiar dish. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,856 | 1,264 | 195 | 144 | 28 | The worried female appeared to be shocked when Akujo had directed her concerns to her. Her first response had been a swift nod in the witch’s direction, and her body turned away until hesitance lingered in her midst.
It was then that she faced her directly and said, “Pardon me for asking… would you happen to know if another student has been admitted here recently?”
Understanding melded into the witch’s facials, and she nearly gifted the other with a reply until the doors to the infirmary burst forth to reveal a stretcher carried by a pair of unfamiliar beings with surgical masks that hid part of their faces. Laid upon it was an unconscious male, possibly the very one the other female had been vehemently for. She was a silent observer as the elven nurses worked swiftly to use whatever sort of magic they had in order to heal his wounds.
After a short period of time, he awoke, lifting his head from the surface of the table and looking about him, and then he spoke.
“Whose power is that?” He questioned, though it wasn’t clear as to whom exactly that had been directed to. Akujo looked from left to right in confusion, searching for a possible source of light or energy that might be signifying what the boy meant, but to no avail. He then began to speak to the girl that had been searching for him. Feeling no more need to participate in the conversation, the still injured female began to look about the room, gradually becoming bored as she did so, until she heard the boy direct his voice towards her.
“Oh sorry I don’t think we have actually met. I’m Leval and this is Rowan.” He introduced.
Now focusing her full attention onto him, Akujo graced the two with her response. “Oh, hey! My name is Maman Akujo. The name is in the Eastern Order, so you can just call me Akujo! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
After this statement, she watched as her two classmates interact with each other once more before exiting the room with waves of goodbye to her that she enthusiastically returned. Once they left the room, the smile that had wavered until her lips were settled into a neutral position. She sighed, suddenly exhausted for reasons unknown to her, perhaps more tired than she had originally thought, and so she rested her body downwards upon the cot. Shutting her eyelids, Akujo almost allowed herself to drift off into slumber until the sound of the door opening peaked her interest, though not enough for her to gather the strength to lift her body upwards.
Judging from the intonation of the voice and the conversation they had with the nurse, it was one of her soon-to-be classmates, a female to be precise. The confirmation was short, and soon, she knew that the nurse was probably treating the girl’s wounds, as most who came to the infirmary had done so. Once again, the witch sighed, and this time, slept.
Waking filled with energy and with a notable lack of pain within her joints, Akujo raised her body upwards and stretched herself out, shaking off whatever remaining grip that sleep had held upon her. Instinctively, she searched about herself for signs of life in the room, but finding none, she jumped off the bed and out the door, with the intention of finding some source of nourishment for her growling stomach.
It took quite a bit of time, considering that she had no clue as to where exactly the lunchroom was located, but the students that she passed along in the hallway were kind enough as to direct her to where she now stood, in front of the doors that led into the cafeteria. Determination spread throughout her body, and she opened the doors, doing her best to determine not only what foods she would eat, but also what group of people she would decide to surround herself with. Her heart thudded within her chest with anticipation of what was to come. | Name: Maman Akujo (Eastern Naming Order)
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Her locks of long, dip-dyed hair flutter annoyingly about her face at a consistent rate due to the unrestrained stream of magic that flows about her. Her large yet strangely colored pink optics hold hearts as pupils instead of the usual spheres. Atop of her head sits the large, lavender witch's hat; tied upon it being pink ribbons with green tinting. Her outfit is that of a dancer; a tight leotard stretched across her slightly chubby figure with fluff on the trimming of the limbs. Naturally golden freckles are dotted about her body, accompanied by a tan skin tone. Lastly, to travel to wherever she wishes, she carries a broomstick that is typical of witches that is wrapped in the same sort of ribbons as the hat.
Power Ranking: A
Classes Chosen to Take: Art and Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: With a passion and enthusiasm that rivals that of so many others, Akujo strives to do the best that she can, especially in subjects that she is particularly intrigued by. Though holding the quality of being a hard worker, she can also become very lazy and complacent, somehow managing to convince herself that she needs no improvement. While this trait frustrates her to no end, she does not have the motivation that is required to fix it. Furthermore, she can be easily excited to learn more about whatever crosses her path, but can just as quickly lose interest as well. She loves being able to spend her available time with others, especially with those that allow her to feel free and like herself, and she hates being alone for extended periods of time. However, after becoming seemingly close with people she can consider to be friends, she tends to distance herself a bit due to the fear of attachment.
Backstory: Akujo had been living alongside her mother and father as an only child until the ripe age of thirteen. Once she became that age, her life had seemed to plummet downwards. Her parents fought more often than ever, to the point that they could not stand to be in each other's presence and split; each one living in a separate home. She had been stuck between the two, constantly moving from one house to another in order to spend an equal period of time with the two people that she cared about the most. However, this soon seemed to change in the upcoming year. At the age of fourteen, a demon had come into her father's home, demolished it, and killed her father. the ashes and flames forever burning themselves into her memory. That very demon had also cursed her with the powers of magic, which she could not control and that caused her friends and remaining family to abandon her to her own devices.It is for this reason that she desired beyond all hope to attend school at Rosewood, for learning how to use and control her magic properly, at the moment, was nothing more than a dream.
Main Powers: Though inexperienced in the movement of objects around her, Akujo is able to change the gravity around her from a crushing weight upon one's self to a lightness around a person that allows them more agility and heightened physical capabilities as well. This range of power that she has can extend to about 120 feet due to years of practicing with animals and inanimate objects in the Wilds. |
46,857 | 1,264 | 196 | 1,368 | 222 | Leval Lamrue
Daichi paused for a moment giving him an odd, but brief stare before answering. "Yeah, thanks. Pretty rough start for the first day, right?" Leval considered the day so far. "I would have to agree, but at least we get to rest up for the rest of the day. Magical History should be interesting. He glanced back up to see Daichi, staring at his meal, nose wrinkled in disgust. "...what is that? It smells god awful." Leval looked at the bowl, the grey goop inside seemed to have taken the indent of his spoon and was slowly moving back to cover the depression. On the far side of the bowl, a small bubble popped with a deep bloop. However, Leval could still taste the deep rich flavor of chocolate in his mouth as his illusion stayed strong. 'This may be a good opportunity to reinforce the illusion.' A grey chunk of something wriggled against the bottom of the bowl, causing a slow moving ripple across it.
"Loosely translated into your tongue, I think the best I could call it would be 'Bog's Broth?'" A look of mild curiousity passed over his illusion's face. "You know I don't know if humanoids can survive it. Would you like to try some? He proffered Daichi a clean spoon, as he scooped a rather large helping into his mouth. Since he definitely had Daichi's attention, his real hands pulled an aerosal can and lighter and blew a small flame upwards. At the same time, he head the scent of can and shifted the flame so it appeared to be coming out of his illusory head as the false body attempted to stifle a burp. It appeared as though Leval's huge body had just shot out flames into the sky, the heat of the actual fire noticeable, but painless to those around him. "Please excuse me. His face appeared mildly embarrassed. Around the room, he saw Nodah and Nuna discussing some matter by the lunch dispensary. By the door though, he saw the girl with the strange patchwork aura, Akujo. He lifted an arm and yelled out in a booming voice. "Akujo! Over here, come eat with us." | Name: Leval Lamrue
Class: Illusionist
Race: Human
Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5’3” at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.
Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval’s illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.
Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity
Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents. |
46,858 | 1,264 | 197 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
Following her statement Rowan was a little taken aback from the responses she received. She assumed the nocturne's whistle was some sort of catcall directed towards her. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. What's a pretty girl like you doing hiding under a hood?" Lance chimed from his seat as he looked in her direction. The vampire's eyelids fluttered open for a brief moment before averting her gaze quickly while attempting to brush it off politely. With a slight tint of pink to her cheeks, Rowan spoke up once again, "Pray do not flatter me so, I am not worthy of such complimentary words. This hood is simply meant to block out the rays of the sun." She glanced over at the elf once again and bowed her head when she finished her sentence.
Shortly after the burly Leval arrived at the table, Kuroda and the human proceeded to exchange small talk. Her gray eyes trailed down to the thick mush in Leval's bowl and she scrunched up her nose as the smell wafted in her direction. The sight of the bubbles rising to the top made Rowan's stomach turn, and she brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth to stifle her discomfort. At the far end of the room Rowan's attention was caught by the girl Leval had just called out to. That moment was her window to relieve herself from the unappetizing meal, even if it was only for a second.
"I will be back." she mumbled under her breath to Leval before excusing herself from the table with her untouched food on the silver tray. Rowan slipped the tray under one of the machines labelled trash and watched as the food dissolved. She approached Akujo and bowed before her. "Hello again, Maman Akujo. Would you care to sit with us?" she voiced courteously while pointing over her shoulder at the table. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,859 | 1,264 | 198 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
Daichi's hairs stood on end when he saw something wriggle at the bottom of the concoction. How is that even edible? The cat shuddered at the thought and returned his stare to Leval's face. "-I don't know if humanoids can survive it. Would you like to try some?" Kuroda's interest was piqued immediately by the offer- such a thrilling opportunity was not one he would likely pass up. "Really now? A big scary guy such as yourself must have a stomach of steel." he drolled, a wry smile spreading across his lips. He rested his chin on his hand and reached for the spoon Leval was holding out to him. "-Don't mind if I do." The nocturne maintained his grinning facade as he carefully leaned across the table to get a better view of what he was about to consume. The "Bog's Broth" certainly didn't look any more appetizing up close, and the smell wasn't helping one bit. What have I gotten myself into...
Daichi flashed Leval one last look, an expression filled with regret. He dipped the spoon into the bowl and his face contorted with disgust at how thick the consistency of the sludge was. Chunks of God-knows-what were sinking around the utensil and weighed it down to the bottom of the dish. He forced a loud gulp before retrieving a spoonful of the broth. Hesitance evident, Daichi finally held the spoon to his lips, wallowed in the heat rising from the substance, closed his eyes tightly, and slowly pushed the food into his mouth. The texture mixed with the revolting taste was sickening, and the cat immediately felt his body reject the meal even before swallowing. He thrust his chair back, covered his mouth with the back of his hand, and bolted for the nearest trash can to relieve himself.
Spitting up the stomach-churning gruel made him feel like everything else he had eaten was going to make another appearance as well, but he forced himself to hold his food down. He gripped the sides of the trash can tightly and hovered over it, just in case he missed a few chunks. Why the hell would anyone put themselves through this kinda torture?! Daichi aggressively wiped the corners of his mouth as he regathered his composure. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,860 | 1,264 | 199 | 1,543 | 198 | Lance Delmero
Lance raised an eyebrow at the spiked and towering figure who neatly took the seat between himself and Rowan, with a bowl of what Lance could only presume to be pestilence solidified. Holding his breath, he refocused on Rowan, who had politely deflected his compliment, although he counted the light blush on her cheeks as a score. She got up from the table shortly and moved to interact with another curious-looking girl. Not having anything to say, he continued to eat, trying to ignore the nauseating stench that was his neighbour's meal. It wasn't long before his attention was grabbed once more by the sudden departure of Daichi from the table. What had happened? It took the elf a moment to realize that Daichi had tried some of the spiked figure's sludge. Lance refrained from laughing, and instead got up and walked to the nocturne's side by the bin. "You alright?" He asked, with a mixture of concern and amusement. "I have to say, I thought you were smarter than that. His food looks like condensed sewage," he jerked a thumb towards the towering person at the table, a friendly grin on his face. Lance had to admit, he'd never seen a creature of that sort before.
Zephyr
Zephyr arrived at the dining hall just in time to see Leval burp, exhaling flames from his mouth. He rolled his eyes. Now that he knew the human was an illusionist, a trick like that wasn't particularly impressive. The question was, why exactly did he feel the need to put up such a grotesque facade? Zephyr didn't let the question bother him for long, bypassing the vampire girl and some other student on his way to the machines at the side. Swiping his ID card, he walked away with a plate stacked with assorted meats and a tall glass of a fizzy dark liquid he'd never had before.
He moved to Leval's table, setting himself down loudly in the seat opposite. He gave a sharp and wide smile to Leval with the words, "We meet again, eh, pal?" It took the demon a moment to notice the bubbling concoction that sat in front of the human, and he cringed away from it, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "What is that? I've been to the nether realms, and even they don't go that far." He was tempted to ask about the illusion itself and whether the quagmire like substance Leval ate was part of it, but he would wait a little bit. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,861 | 1,264 | 200 | 144 | 28 | Nuna Mori
"How could I refuse?" This was her cue to pursue to the table, but his response led into another conversation. She listened intently and as he came to a conclusion he said, "Would you grant me that?" She was looking at Nodah quizzically. Maybe he was mistaken? After the few seconds of her pondering gaze and observation of the scenario, she stated monotonously, "No. That is just Nuna Mori, the succubus, for you. I cannot make any promises, but I will attempt to resist the temptation. If anything I will permit you time. You can't get rid of me that easily." Turning from Nodah to face the direction of the table, she paused. She added over her shoulder, "If I may note, you seem to be demisexual. It's the little things you can pick up from the people you hang out with." Altering the intonation of her voice to one more upbeat, "Well, then. Let's continue to the table."
Approaching the table, she granted the party the respect of inquiring to sit down at their table after they finished the small chat. "Is alright if I sit down at this table? I'm Nuna Mori for those of you who don't know. Well met." She did not want to seem imposing like the early version of herself in the morning. Her reputation was already tarnished, so whatever she could do to salvage it would be beneficial. | Name: Maman Akujo (Eastern Naming Order)
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Her locks of long, dip-dyed hair flutter annoyingly about her face at a consistent rate due to the unrestrained stream of magic that flows about her. Her large yet strangely colored pink optics hold hearts as pupils instead of the usual spheres. Atop of her head sits the large, lavender witch's hat; tied upon it being pink ribbons with green tinting. Her outfit is that of a dancer; a tight leotard stretched across her slightly chubby figure with fluff on the trimming of the limbs. Naturally golden freckles are dotted about her body, accompanied by a tan skin tone. Lastly, to travel to wherever she wishes, she carries a broomstick that is typical of witches that is wrapped in the same sort of ribbons as the hat.
Power Ranking: A
Classes Chosen to Take: Art and Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: With a passion and enthusiasm that rivals that of so many others, Akujo strives to do the best that she can, especially in subjects that she is particularly intrigued by. Though holding the quality of being a hard worker, she can also become very lazy and complacent, somehow managing to convince herself that she needs no improvement. While this trait frustrates her to no end, she does not have the motivation that is required to fix it. Furthermore, she can be easily excited to learn more about whatever crosses her path, but can just as quickly lose interest as well. She loves being able to spend her available time with others, especially with those that allow her to feel free and like herself, and she hates being alone for extended periods of time. However, after becoming seemingly close with people she can consider to be friends, she tends to distance herself a bit due to the fear of attachment.
Backstory: Akujo had been living alongside her mother and father as an only child until the ripe age of thirteen. Once she became that age, her life had seemed to plummet downwards. Her parents fought more often than ever, to the point that they could not stand to be in each other's presence and split; each one living in a separate home. She had been stuck between the two, constantly moving from one house to another in order to spend an equal period of time with the two people that she cared about the most. However, this soon seemed to change in the upcoming year. At the age of fourteen, a demon had come into her father's home, demolished it, and killed her father. the ashes and flames forever burning themselves into her memory. That very demon had also cursed her with the powers of magic, which she could not control and that caused her friends and remaining family to abandon her to her own devices.It is for this reason that she desired beyond all hope to attend school at Rosewood, for learning how to use and control her magic properly, at the moment, was nothing more than a dream.
Main Powers: Though inexperienced in the movement of objects around her, Akujo is able to change the gravity around her from a crushing weight upon one's self to a lightness around a person that allows them more agility and heightened physical capabilities as well. This range of power that she has can extend to about 120 feet due to years of practicing with animals and inanimate objects in the Wilds. |
46,862 | 1,264 | 201 | 411 | 87 | Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
☪
"You alright?" Footsteps could be heard approaching Daichi from behind, and his drooping ears perked at the arrival of Lance. His voice was filled with what the cat assumed to be worry, but he sensed a hint of mirth in the elf's tone. He could tell he was holding back a laugh, causing the Nocturne to stifle a chuckle of his own. Without turning to face him, Kuroda lurched over the trash bin and tightened his grip on the sides. He let out a disconcerted groan in response before spitting into the garbage once more for good measure. "I have to say, I thought you were smarter than that. His food looks like condensed sewage," Lance stated coolly, a smile spreading across his face. He ushered over his shoulder towards the party at the table, specifically at the human whose food he had just thrown up. "He questioned my kind's ability to eat that stuff, but I'm convinced it's not even edible." Even through the unpleasant taste left in his mouth, Daichi managed to crack a smirk in response to Lance and his snarky comment.
"-sorry to get your hopes up, I'm not as smart as you had expected." he purred as he stood up straight. His eyes trailed towards the face of the elf who hovered so high above him, then back down to his chest that rested at the cat's eye level. It appeared that he had something to say, but he decided to keep his petty thoughts to himself. I can't look this guy in the eye... Daichi rubbed the back of his neck, confused even by his own thoughts before he started making his way back to the lunch table. Rather than leaving the elf in his wake, he patted Lance's lower back as an indication to follow him. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,863 | 1,264 | 202 | 1,576 | 358 | As Nuna walked off, Nodah watched her back advance to the table. "You can't get rid of me that easily," she had said. Was he to take it she would be a pestilence? But it was not her words which grappled with his curiosity and danger as much as it was the way she had said them. Succubi gallivant, he thought, his sneakered feet picking up to follow in Nuna's wake. This one...she does not seem to play for just the game. She had named him a demisexual for asking her to stay her pursuits where he was concerned. That humoured him, and his manner was outwardly jovial as Nodah came to the table, shortly after Nuna's introduction.
He tossed an easy smile, eyes now twinkling emeralds surveying the table. They lighted particularly on the slight girl in her hood and another in vivid colours, and flitted distractedly to a towering elf a distance away, where Daichi had strayed. All new students who had no place in Nodah's memory, save the pale girl, who owned a fleeting impression from the training hall. "Nodah Listig, at your service." He placed his tray down, upturned lips addressing the new faces, as he slipped languidly into a seat. "I am afraid you are strange to me. Might I ask your names? I would be so pleased to make your acquiantance." | Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain. |
46,864 | 1,264 | 203 | 1,742 | 33 | Rowan Delacroix
The two girls made their way gradually back to the table, and Akujo initated some conversation with Rowan. "Maman Akujo is quite amiable- she gives off a very pleasant aura." The vampire had her hands folded neatly before her as they walked beside each other, occasionally glancing over at her company while she spoke with such an eager tone. “So, how has Rosewood been so far? Was there anything I missed before I saw you guys at the nursery? Because I kept walking past people with lots of bruises and cuts on them, but I never heard anything about there being fights when I came.” Rowan lifted her chin slightly at the comment. "Your statement is correct. There were fights schedulded during the first class- Combat Training," she began quietly, still formulating a response in her mind. "One student faced another in separate chambers, and one came out victorious over the other. I, for example, went against Leval Lamrue."
Rowan tightened her grip on her hands when she recalled the turn of events towards the end of the battle. Just as they reached the table, Kuroda had bolted from his seat straight for the other side of the room. Akujo inquired what the cause may have been. "I'm not certain, but..." Her eyes travelled to the bowl of gruel in Leval's possesion. Without finishing her sentence, Rowan lifted a finger and pointed towards the peculiar concoction to give Akujo some sort of answer. As they both sat down, Rowan noticed two new faces already seated with the group. "Nuna Mori and Nodah Listig." She politely nodded her head in their direction, particularly intrigued by the changing color of Nodah's eyes. "My name is Rowan Delacroix." Her voice remained very quaint as she shifted her eyes shyly between both of the newcomers. | Name: Rowan Delacroix
Class: Necromancer
Race: Vampire
Appearance:
Rather small frame, measures around 5'2" with flowing black hair that compliments her gray irises
Power Ranking: C
Electives:
-Potion Making
-Art
Character's Characteristics: Extremely shy and reserved. Keeps to herself, rarely expresses emotions- stoic.
Main Power based on Class: Summons spirits to communicate/gain insight of the very near future
Backstory: Born into a rich bloodline of royalty, Rowan has a pure heritage spanning out before her. She is heir to the Delacroix family as a result of a tragic incident regarding her eldest brother, Lucius. Her repressed methods of dealing with strangers may be a direct result of the traumatizing experience that many still do not know the full details of to this day.
Any Other Info: Her hair gains a streak of white when under pressure/during use of magic, and can transform into a bat if the situation calls for it. |
46,865 | 1,264 | 204 | 144 | 28 | Nuna Mori
Immediately following her introduction, Nodah began his formalities. During this short interval, she examined the students she was to be among. Inimitable, stylish, and bewitching. These adjectives crossed her mind as she quickly glossed over their faces. Some new and some old... The others had yet to give her a response, to sit down at their table. But the speech that ensued after this thought was the closest. "My name is Rowan Delacroix." The hooded figure, or rather Rowan, carried a hushed demeanor, almost hiding her true identity in her cloak. But there was something in the way she orated that left an impact on Nuna. The sensations the students emitted around her were immense, but Ms. Delacroix made her want to institute a liaison. Mori noticed the shy looks of Rowan and returned it with what she hoped to be a cordial smile.
The other students had yet to engage in conversation, so Nuna began with an open-ended question. "So how is everyone's lunch?" She stated as she began to eat what seemed to be brunch. The appearance of the maple syrup covered fruits and nuts, grapefruit buttermilk donuts, smoked salmon, and raspberry drink were not enough to cover the lingering stench that assailed her nose. A grimace washed her face and cleared to avoid any attention. Before the thought of hurling overcame Nuna, she stuffed a spoonful of the maple fruit and nuts into her mouth. "Mmm..." as the morsels of food began to fill and her repel the odor. Her body reacted to the nourishment with a shudder of relief and satisfaction. She ate slowly, enjoying the smell and taste her food provided. May the soul of the person eating whatever is procuring such a foul stench ascend freely into the light, ridding it of such pungency and impurity. | Name: Maman Akujo (Eastern Naming Order)
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Her locks of long, dip-dyed hair flutter annoyingly about her face at a consistent rate due to the unrestrained stream of magic that flows about her. Her large yet strangely colored pink optics hold hearts as pupils instead of the usual spheres. Atop of her head sits the large, lavender witch's hat; tied upon it being pink ribbons with green tinting. Her outfit is that of a dancer; a tight leotard stretched across her slightly chubby figure with fluff on the trimming of the limbs. Naturally golden freckles are dotted about her body, accompanied by a tan skin tone. Lastly, to travel to wherever she wishes, she carries a broomstick that is typical of witches that is wrapped in the same sort of ribbons as the hat.
Power Ranking: A
Classes Chosen to Take: Art and Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: With a passion and enthusiasm that rivals that of so many others, Akujo strives to do the best that she can, especially in subjects that she is particularly intrigued by. Though holding the quality of being a hard worker, she can also become very lazy and complacent, somehow managing to convince herself that she needs no improvement. While this trait frustrates her to no end, she does not have the motivation that is required to fix it. Furthermore, she can be easily excited to learn more about whatever crosses her path, but can just as quickly lose interest as well. She loves being able to spend her available time with others, especially with those that allow her to feel free and like herself, and she hates being alone for extended periods of time. However, after becoming seemingly close with people she can consider to be friends, she tends to distance herself a bit due to the fear of attachment.
Backstory: Akujo had been living alongside her mother and father as an only child until the ripe age of thirteen. Once she became that age, her life had seemed to plummet downwards. Her parents fought more often than ever, to the point that they could not stand to be in each other's presence and split; each one living in a separate home. She had been stuck between the two, constantly moving from one house to another in order to spend an equal period of time with the two people that she cared about the most. However, this soon seemed to change in the upcoming year. At the age of fourteen, a demon had come into her father's home, demolished it, and killed her father. the ashes and flames forever burning themselves into her memory. That very demon had also cursed her with the powers of magic, which she could not control and that caused her friends and remaining family to abandon her to her own devices.It is for this reason that she desired beyond all hope to attend school at Rosewood, for learning how to use and control her magic properly, at the moment, was nothing more than a dream.
Main Powers: Though inexperienced in the movement of objects around her, Akujo is able to change the gravity around her from a crushing weight upon one's self to a lightness around a person that allows them more agility and heightened physical capabilities as well. This range of power that she has can extend to about 120 feet due to years of practicing with animals and inanimate objects in the Wilds. |
46,866 | 1,264 | 205 | 411 | 87 | Nuna got up from her table.
Walked away and dropped and sang the song of doom.
A forbidden song only to be used when one's soul is corrupted.
The world ended with all life and everything. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,867 | 1,264 | 206 | 1,543 | 198 | Zephyr was immune to the death song.
Except it made him turn into a giant ass demon.
"Prepare to get fucked." He boomed, all demon-like.
And with that he went to fuck shit up.
Lance died and all the pretty girls in the kingdom cried. | Name: Lance Delmero
Class: Essentia
Race: Elf
Appearance:
Power Ranking: A
Electives: Art, Potion making
Character's Characteristics: Lance is an adventurous guy. Charismatic, good at making conversation, and easy going. He cracks jokes, likes to laugh, and makes everything seem effortless. He's also wildly competitive, and very possessive. Overall, he's pretty good natured. His anger isn't the furious kind, but the quiet, cold kind and he can hold grudges. Most of the time, though, he's fun to be around.
Main Powers: Particularly good with frost, ice, snow and water in general.
Backstory: Elves are a generally aloof race. Lance, who loves to explore everywhere
and meet everyone in the funniest way possible doesn't really fit into the mould, and was sent to Rosewood by his parents in an attempt to steer him towards something useful after he returned from a particularly disastrous adventure involving two incubi and a lot of snow.
Other: Lance likes animals a lot. Especially cats. |
46,868 | 1,264 | 207 | 411 | 87 | "L-Lance, bby... no... WE HAD SO MUCH CHEMISTRY!!!!"
He wailed, throwing himself out of the window. All hope was lost. No more pretty cat-elf babies. | Name: Ｋｕｒｏｄａ Ｄａｉｃｈｉ
Class: Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａ
Race: Ｎｏｃｔｕｒｎｅ
Appearance:
›Very тαll αɴd ѕleɴder αɴd ѕтαтυre, Dαιcнι мeαѕυreѕ αт αroυɴd 6'3" αɴd υѕυαlly weαrѕ α вlαcĸ вeαɴιe тo cover нιѕ proтrυdιɴɢ ғelιɴe eαrѕ.‹
Power Ranking: Ａ
Electives: Mαgιcαℓ Hιѕтσяу & Ƥσтιση Mαкιηg ✔
Character's Characteristics: Uɴlιĸe нιѕ ιɴтιмιdαтιɴɢ αppeαrαɴce, Dαιcнι ιѕ α very plαyғυl αɴd αpproαcнαвle perѕoɴ wнo loveѕ тo crαcĸ joĸeѕ. Doɴ'т ɢeт oɴ нιѕ вαd ѕιde тнoυɢн; нe вιтeѕ.
Main Powers based on Class: Mαηιƒєѕтαтιση σƒ ǀcє αη∂ Mιѕт- ѕσмєтιмєѕ νєησмσυѕ
Backstory: Born and raised in the well-renowned region of Matara, Daichi was constantly prowling the many heavily crowded swamps in search of something new- something interesting. With that mindset, the adventurous Nocturne decided to embark on a trip away from his large family to The Barren Lands, where he hoped to bring some change to his monotonous life. Of course, such a journey would not be easy; The Barren Lands are not divisions that can be taken lightly. Daichi prefers not to speak much about his experiences in the hazardous areas, but he is certain that this experience helped him to discover the true capacity of his powers, thus leading him to enroll in Rosewood; the school for the gifted.
Other Info: His family consists of 4 sisters and 3 brothers, meaning he comes from a family of 10. He may not look it, but he is also a very family oriented guy who treasures those he cares for and holds dear. The necklace adorned around his neck is always there- it was a gift especially from his deceased grandfather who entrusted it to him as a token of protection. |
46,869 | 1,265 | 0 | 2,677 | 6,563 | William's eyes opened. He stared up into the dark recesses of the room he lay in, perfectly posed, as if he had died, feet and legs straight, arms crossed over his chest. He looked up, and thought he could make out the outlines of stone above him. As his senses came on and he began processing information, he collected them all and began putting them together:
In his peripheral vision, more stone, less darkness. Torchlight; unusual for the day and age. What day and age? Unsettling; he couldn't remember what day it was. What year it was, even. Just knew it was... modern. Torches aren't of this world anymore, except for cosplay, camps, and decoration. Maybe for less fortunate countries, he supposed.
From the scent, he detected mustiness, a dry dustiness, indicating that he was, perhaps, somewhere usually unused? Combined with the stone, he figured perhaps an old castle. He picked up another smell- somewhat sweet, he guessed. Perfume? Cologne? Really nice BO? Unknown; he filed the thought away for future observation and thought.
From the feel, he was in a dry place. Stone, slightly cracked, slightly worn, lay beneath him, and he could feel a layer of dirtiness on it. Cold, dry. Unused, with no central heating system- unusual for the modern age, again. At least, unusual where he was from.
By sight, he could see that the room he was in was smallish, but had a high ceiling. Stone bricks, all the way, with wood beams to help support. He turned his head; indeed, the corners of the room had slightly crooked, warped beams of wood supporting the ceiling, with logs crisscrossing the roof, tied to the vertical supports. He found he liked the design, even if it seemed crude or most definitely not-modern.
But feel, again. He was sore all over, and felt like a demon had awakened, and began clawing at his stomach. He lifted an arm; he felt as weak as he had ever been. He tried to think back, why he was here, why was he so weak, but found nothing in his mind, no memory, no history. Oh, he remembered history well enough- World War II, Abraham Lincoln, the Civil War, the Renaissance, but no dates, no numbers, nothing that connected anything to the 'modern' day.
He noticed a book that both his hands rested on, and he, groaning, sat up, taking the book in aching fingers and staring down at the cover. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Don't Panic was sprawled ironically appropriately on its cover, evidence of someone- maybe him- using a sharpie to write it on. It was worn, used, well-read.
He looked up and around, and found himself in a sort of cell-room. It might have been, if the iron door wasn't sitting wide open. Some distance away, echoing down the hallway outside, he could hear steps, multiple sets of footsteps, coming towards him. And so the welcome wagon comes.
Just where in the goddamn hell am I? And what the hell is my last name? | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,870 | 1,265 | 1 | 2,659 | 1,220 | A slim, pale woman walked as if she were gliding through the castle halls. Her slippered feet made naught a sound, though the occasional brushing sound of her dress while she walked. The vampire had a regal, no nonsense air about her, though her blue eyes seemed softer than the chiseled demeanor of her expression. Her hair was brushed smoothly from her face, but remained down, flowing in soft large curl to just rest on her narrow shoulders. She seemed to have a firm direction in mind and yet her gaze flitted about wildly, hardly resting. Perhaps she’d never truly become accustomed to the barrage of senses that came with becoming the undead.
In her light hands she carried a silver tray of glass goblets, each filled half way with blood. Though if one only saw the color and not the consistency, they might mistake it for wine. The goblets caught the faint light from flames as she lowered herself to the dungeons, where the fledglings had been laid to wake. She didn’t know if they were rested quite enough yet, but she knew they would thirst upon waking. And so the woman in white turned to the first open cell. She halted immediately upon seeing the new one standing, looking towards her, feet firm on the stone beneath them.
“Oh, you’ve awakened,” Evelyn said simply, staring back at him. His hair seemed quite messy and the look on his face distraught. | Name: Gwyneth “Gwen” Martin
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Appearance:
Personality: Gwen is an outgoing person but has become more withdrawn since her return home. She is very sarcastic and is quite the tomboy. Gwen is also very impulsive and has been known to become distracted from finishing tasks. She doesn’t always think highly of herself, but she won’t let another soul know that. She has also grown to be very laid back and can keep a level head when situations get heated.
Likes: Horror movies and Quentin Tarantino flicks, loud parties with lots of music and dancing. She loves the nightlife, and running for sport or fun. She loves cheese steaks and anything Italian.
Dislikes: cigarette smoke and people who are assholes when they drink.
History:
The earliest years of Gwen’s life was very uneventful, but it was a boring normality that she remembers and still yearns for. Her family had settled into their cozy two story home when Gwen was just an infant and two years before her brother was born. Her mother became a teacher at the elementary school, while her father became a preacher. Needless to say, Gwen’s family became very well established in the community. The town Gwen grew up in wasn’t much different from the other sleepy towns like it across the country. It was quiet and friendly without much crime or trouble. There was only one subject tabooed by the locals, the manor in the woods. A “Manor” would be an understatement for this place; it looks more like a castle built by old Vlad himself. Those that can be persuading to talk about the manor cannot recall when it was built or if anyone even lives there now. There is a fear shared by this town about that manor, a fear that gags the locals and keeps them inside at night.
Gwen did not pay much attention to the stories about the manor, like most she put the ghost stories out of her mind. She was loved by her family and had many friends from church and school. The moment that changed her life seems to come from her nightmares. She was thirteen then, it was Saturday and night was still creeping away when Gwen awoke. She had thought she heard screaming outside her window, but there was no one there. The door to the kitchen was standing wide open, and the sink was on. The stillness of the kitchen scared Gwen, so she ran upstairs to get her mother, but she was gone. Her mother was declared missing for three days until volunteers and police found her body in the woods. It was determined that an animal must have attacked her and nothing more was said about the case. They all grieved, but Gwen’s father had his flock and his religion, Gwen’s brother had his music. Gwen had nothing to help her cope, only questions. Something had killed her mother, not some animal. But once again fear had silenced the town. Gwen was very angry over the injustice, and the anger made her bitter too early in her life.
The highschool years were a blur of failed tests, parties, and drugs. She graduated highschool and caught a bus out of town on the same day. Gwen was on a downward spiral, but finally, she cried out for help. Two years after running away, Gwen returned to her hometown determine to make amends to her family and try to establish some kind of life. She is now working at the local diner and trying to enroll at a nearby community college, but something has Gwen’s attention. That old manor has been on Gwen’s mind and it’s only a matter of time before her curiosity drawls her too close in the manor’s grasp. |
46,871 | 1,265 | 2 | 128 | 742 | De Winter manim, I'm going to have to borrow one of those. Taeyang announced as he glided lightly into the cell, swiping a goblet gracefully off the tray. "I hear another early riser." he added, giving the fledgling boy in the cell a wink before leaving again, turning right and going two cells over, where the other waking fledgling was groaning herself to life- or rather, not. He leaned against the bars and swung the goblet lightly with a grin. "Hey there, little sister, I'm guessing those are groans of hunger."
-*-*-
"Ugh..." She woke with a groan and pushed her body up from the floor. Looking around to let her eyes adjust, she noticed the slim figure leaning up against the bars. 'Wait, bars? Am I in jail? What did I do?' she ranted in her mind, not moving an inch. 'I should cal...I should...I should call...who?' her mind stuttered to a halt. "Who- where-"
"You, castle." The one in the room replied in a smirking tone. "We don't know your name so you'll have to figure that out yourself." He kneeled down next to her. Her body felt paralysed by the knot in her stomach, and she stared as his face came into focus. He was older than her, but he still looked young. Her body tensed in warning when he touched her shoulder and pulled her into the sitting position. "Calm down, kiddo, I won't hurt you. Drink this, you've been without for a few days at least." Her lips remained firmly sealed up until she caught the smell of the drink. Without a second thought her lips were parted and the liquid was going down her throat, making her feel stronger ny the second,
When her limbs finally unlocked, she snatched the cup out of the surprised man's hand, tilting her head back as far as it would go and savoring every last drop. "More" she demanded with a growl when there was nothing left. She reached out to the man, glaring at his empty hands.
"Whoa, woah, it's ok. C'mere, De Winter manim has some more a few rooms over." He held his hand out to her and helped her up. With a slight bow, he led her out of the room and down the hall, where a woman in a white dress was watching a guy just a bit older than Anrah herse-
"...Anrah?" She whispered as the two of them entered the cell. The Korean man looked at her over his shoulder and gave her a smile.
"I'm guessing that's your name. De winter manim, this is Anrah." He introduced after bowing to the woman in white. "She needs another goblet for her thirst." | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,872 | 1,265 | 3 | 2,677 | 6,563 | He looked at them, face creasing into a distraught, confused expression of dismay. He stared at the lady, who, when she first appeared, he had responded to with a, "Well you're a thing of beauty, huh? Welcome Wagon in the form of a dress, I guess." He blinked, surprised at his unintentional rhyming. He couldn't remember where the term 'Welcome Wagon' came from, but he used it anyways.
He eyed her, brow creased downward, as he cautiously took a few steps forward, feeling ravenously thirsty. He knew what she carried almost immediately; he could smell it.
Then the Korean showed up, sending William into a hasty retreat, pressing his back against the wall as he narrowed his eyes at the ever-smirking man. As he left, he began moving forward again, now eyeing 'De Winter' carefully. This time, he came close enough to hesitantly ask, "May I?" and then taking one of the cups without waiting for an answer. He paused as he brought it up to drink it. He knew what it was, from the sight and smell of it. The hunger clawed at his innards, but still, he showed none of it, a forgotten lifetime of hiding expression and thoughts coming into play.
Then he drank and felt instant relief. It didn't even take five seconds for him to empty the cup, and though the gnawing died away, the hunger remained, calling for more. Instead, he set his mouth into a firm, unyielding line, and asked, "I'll let anyone else like me take a drink first. Wouldn't be right for me to force them to stay with the gnawing for longer than I." Any other words were cut off as a pretty darker-skinned girl followed the Korean back in, and he noted the name "Anrah" for further use. De Winter, Anrah, and the Korean- one presumably like him, the other two being somewhat older, and yet he sensed a certain... ancientness around them.
Then he took another cup anyways, replacing his already-empty one, and drank that too. As his thirst subsided to a distant, dull throbbing, he set the cup back, and said, "So, we're vampires. Am I right? Blood is normally revolting- and yet it is the thing that sates my thirst." He paused for a moment, then contiued before anyone could properly reply, "William the vampire. I guess I always feared death- just never expected to still be walking afterwards." | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,873 | 1,265 | 4 | 2,659 | 1,220 | Evelyn blushed a vivid shade of red, eyes widening at the boy’s words when he complimented her, obviously caught off guard. Her lips parted, as if unsure what to say until he reached for the blood. She was about to properly offer him some when Taeyang stepped in and took one.
“Yes, of course,” she said, turning slightly so that he could reach without brushing against her. She watched him leave and turned back to the young one, seeing he had moved further back away again. She raised a brow, unsure why he seemed more frightened of the male than she, but he also may have been fearful that there were two of them instead of one. Surely, that would be more frightening to wake up to. She felt sympathy for these newly turned ones, not wanting to curse anyone with the life she herself had to exist within.
“Yes, take one,” she spoke when the man asked, although it seemed he would have partaken anyway. Evelyn gave a soft smile, happy to have helped satisfy what she knew had to be an undying thirst. Though his reaction to taking another made her look at him questioningly.
Evelyn turned around when other footsteps entered, seeing another new one and Taeyang return. “Hello Anrah,” Evelyn said, holding out the tray for the girl to receive her own goblet, but not before the boy she’d welcomed took another. Evelyn looked back at him, watching while he partook, and looked hesitant to reply to his words. “I suppose William is your name? You both may call me Evelyn. Or Ms. De Winter, whatever you prefer. But yes, I’m afraid you are… vampires,” she said, simply confirming his suspicions. “When you feel well enough I suppose we can show you the castle and you may exist outside our dungeons,” she spoke, basically thinking out loud as she looked between the two young ones. | Name: Gwyneth “Gwen” Martin
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Appearance:
Personality: Gwen is an outgoing person but has become more withdrawn since her return home. She is very sarcastic and is quite the tomboy. Gwen is also very impulsive and has been known to become distracted from finishing tasks. She doesn’t always think highly of herself, but she won’t let another soul know that. She has also grown to be very laid back and can keep a level head when situations get heated.
Likes: Horror movies and Quentin Tarantino flicks, loud parties with lots of music and dancing. She loves the nightlife, and running for sport or fun. She loves cheese steaks and anything Italian.
Dislikes: cigarette smoke and people who are assholes when they drink.
History:
The earliest years of Gwen’s life was very uneventful, but it was a boring normality that she remembers and still yearns for. Her family had settled into their cozy two story home when Gwen was just an infant and two years before her brother was born. Her mother became a teacher at the elementary school, while her father became a preacher. Needless to say, Gwen’s family became very well established in the community. The town Gwen grew up in wasn’t much different from the other sleepy towns like it across the country. It was quiet and friendly without much crime or trouble. There was only one subject tabooed by the locals, the manor in the woods. A “Manor” would be an understatement for this place; it looks more like a castle built by old Vlad himself. Those that can be persuading to talk about the manor cannot recall when it was built or if anyone even lives there now. There is a fear shared by this town about that manor, a fear that gags the locals and keeps them inside at night.
Gwen did not pay much attention to the stories about the manor, like most she put the ghost stories out of her mind. She was loved by her family and had many friends from church and school. The moment that changed her life seems to come from her nightmares. She was thirteen then, it was Saturday and night was still creeping away when Gwen awoke. She had thought she heard screaming outside her window, but there was no one there. The door to the kitchen was standing wide open, and the sink was on. The stillness of the kitchen scared Gwen, so she ran upstairs to get her mother, but she was gone. Her mother was declared missing for three days until volunteers and police found her body in the woods. It was determined that an animal must have attacked her and nothing more was said about the case. They all grieved, but Gwen’s father had his flock and his religion, Gwen’s brother had his music. Gwen had nothing to help her cope, only questions. Something had killed her mother, not some animal. But once again fear had silenced the town. Gwen was very angry over the injustice, and the anger made her bitter too early in her life.
The highschool years were a blur of failed tests, parties, and drugs. She graduated highschool and caught a bus out of town on the same day. Gwen was on a downward spiral, but finally, she cried out for help. Two years after running away, Gwen returned to her hometown determine to make amends to her family and try to establish some kind of life. She is now working at the local diner and trying to enroll at a nearby community college, but something has Gwen’s attention. That old manor has been on Gwen’s mind and it’s only a matter of time before her curiosity drawls her too close in the manor’s grasp. |
46,874 | 1,265 | 5 | 2,677 | 6,563 | He was slightly confused- why'd she blush? If he were indeed a vampire, and she were one as well, then shouldn't she have such a control from decades or centuries that any emotion besides what she wanted shown would be impossible to discern? But either way, she didn't have the look of someone who just let it slip- it appeared genuine. Shortly after the confusion, he felt embarrassment. A compliment was a compliment regardless of its way of convey, unless it were said mocking or similar to. He filed away her response for future reference; gaining any knowledge he could about his captors, compatriots, or companions, depending on how the day turned out, may prove invaluable in the future.
He still eyed the others with no small amount of distrust, but was relaxed by a surge of strength brought by the blood. He recognized the lady- Evelyn De Winters, she so said- and the Korean to be older vampires, possibly ancient, though that was aimed more towards De Winters. She appeared more the proper lady that was more common in the times before aircraft and steam engines than after. Odd; he retained all knowledge, but any amount of searching his brain for memory came up short. He pushed it aside; he could deal with it later, when he was alone.
He filed away Anrah, too- she looked like him. Newborn, fledgling, new. He wondered how many others, but couldn't bring himself to ask. He eyed her more so than the other two; she was likely to become closer to him than the older ones, due to similarities. He wasn't sure, but he didn't quite trust her as much as De Winters, nor the Korean. He racked his brain again, but only came up with vague, racist impressions from people around him, in some unknown day and place, and modern-day actions taken by... North Korea. No, the proper lady who blushed at a compliment was more likely to be trustful, in his opinion, though he wished it were not so. He figured his reasons for not trusting the other two- as much- were racist, but couldn't bring himself to change anything. Besides- she brought the blood.
That thought made his nose wrinkle- human blood. Someone else, a different DNA, was inside his veins now. It made himself feel sick, and he warily cast a glance about, searching for something in case he might need it. Finding nothing but cups, floor, walls, ceiling, and people, he resigned himself to forcing repulsion down. This was his existence; he must deal with it.
"Ms. De Winters... that would be nice, I think." He paused, unsure of himself. "Yeah; my name is William... I think. I would say that I'm... sated, for now. How familiar it is; I am dead, and yet I feel little different." He raised a hand, staring at it, and taking note of the paleness. He was... Peruvian ancestry, he thought. Darker skinned, regardless of how much sun struck his skin, and yet... now he wasn't. He felt a wrenching bolt of unease at that- it was as if his past had been completely taken from him. Even his skin.
Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, and spun around, inspecting the room. He went so far as to approach the walls and wood, feeling them to take into account how authentic it was; if this were a prank or not.
He was sad to realize that they felt very real. | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,875 | 1,265 | 6 | 128 | 742 | Thank you, Ms. De Winter. Anrah said, accepting the goblet from the tray. She was slower with this one, merely needing it for sating and not for surviving. She couldn't help but narrow her eyes, glaring slightly at the suspicious look shot at her and the older male vampire. She would be suspicious of new people too, but given the fact that he gave no such look towards the Elder woman in the room, Anrah had a feeling that the stare had more bias behind it. Racial bias. If there was anything she hated, it was racial bias. 'Well...I guess that's good to know. Though I suppose I'd have had to deal with it in my life.' she thought, looking at her brown skin- obviously paler than when she was alive, going by the almost ash-gray undertone that was slowly disappearing with each sip she took, giving her skin a bit more normal color.
"So...what is it that you call her, then?" Anrah asked, glancing up to the Korean man who had initially brought her to the new cell. "Man...man-ihm?" She could tell as she said it that she was butchering the word, but the man simply laughed, looking over at Ms. De Winter as though there was some sort of big secret behind it. Anrah raised an eyebrow and took another sip as the man leaned once more against the cell bars.
-*-*-
"Mah-Neem." Taeyang corrected, ticking his index finger for each part of the word. "It's 'Milady' in Korean. Did it when I first showed up here, and now it's just a principle of respect for her." He winked at Evelyn. He hadn't ever told her what it meant, and had no idea if she had looked it up at some point. Either way, someone learned something new. Taeyang enjoyed sharing his language with other's as well. Speaking so many, he would be ecstatic if one of the fledglings knew any of them, as he would immediately begin a conversation in whatever language they know. English was getting so boring.
"But that's mine, kiddo, you can't use it." He grinned. "So, Anrah. William. De Winter manim," He pointed to each respectively. "And last but not least, I'm Taeyang. You can call me Taeyang, Yang, or Big Brother." There was a cheeky grin at the last one, showing he wasn't serious but he also wouldn't really mind if they did. He purposely didn't look at William too long. He knew that the way he was looking at Anrah and him wasn't simply innocent suspicion. "You two are the only ones who have woken up so far, so go ahead and take some more blood if you need. I can run back up to the dining room at any time for any other new one that wakes up." He nodded to Evelyn, promising to do so so she wouldn't have to go all the way back up for more instead. | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,876 | 1,265 | 7 | 2,659 | 1,220 | Evelyn smile softly and nodded at William’s response, realizing he was having trouble recovering his memories as of the moment by the way he was inspecting himself. She wouldn’t be surprised if Anrah was the same. She hoped what they would remember would be pleasant at least. She let the boy inspect his surroundings, though she found it a bit odd before turning back to Taeyang and the new girl, giving Anrah a soft smile as well for her politeness when taking the blood.
Evelyn hesitated to say anything when the girl asked about the name her friend would call her, as she had only assumed it was a term of respect in some sort of way but had never inquired, thinking it would be impolite. And as she suspected, when he gave the girl his answer, she was correct. She smiled in response to his explanation and wink, pleased. She even let go his pointing at people for the time being since he was trying to identify everyone.
“Yes I think that would be best,” she nodded, agreeing that if any more should wake that Taeyang could go get them something to drink. “Well, again, feel free to take more,” she said, to the two young ones, moving out of the cell past Taeyang and into the hall they’d come down. She moved further down it until she found a small table she could set the tray down on and rest her arms. She rolled her shoulders back slightly, pale form turning back to look at the others, blue eyes appearing ghostly. “Shall we?” she asked, not wanting to push the two harder than they were able. It had been so long ago she was turned, and she had taken to it fairly well, that she wanted to be sensitive to their transformation. | Name: Gwyneth “Gwen” Martin
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Appearance:
Personality: Gwen is an outgoing person but has become more withdrawn since her return home. She is very sarcastic and is quite the tomboy. Gwen is also very impulsive and has been known to become distracted from finishing tasks. She doesn’t always think highly of herself, but she won’t let another soul know that. She has also grown to be very laid back and can keep a level head when situations get heated.
Likes: Horror movies and Quentin Tarantino flicks, loud parties with lots of music and dancing. She loves the nightlife, and running for sport or fun. She loves cheese steaks and anything Italian.
Dislikes: cigarette smoke and people who are assholes when they drink.
History:
The earliest years of Gwen’s life was very uneventful, but it was a boring normality that she remembers and still yearns for. Her family had settled into their cozy two story home when Gwen was just an infant and two years before her brother was born. Her mother became a teacher at the elementary school, while her father became a preacher. Needless to say, Gwen’s family became very well established in the community. The town Gwen grew up in wasn’t much different from the other sleepy towns like it across the country. It was quiet and friendly without much crime or trouble. There was only one subject tabooed by the locals, the manor in the woods. A “Manor” would be an understatement for this place; it looks more like a castle built by old Vlad himself. Those that can be persuading to talk about the manor cannot recall when it was built or if anyone even lives there now. There is a fear shared by this town about that manor, a fear that gags the locals and keeps them inside at night.
Gwen did not pay much attention to the stories about the manor, like most she put the ghost stories out of her mind. She was loved by her family and had many friends from church and school. The moment that changed her life seems to come from her nightmares. She was thirteen then, it was Saturday and night was still creeping away when Gwen awoke. She had thought she heard screaming outside her window, but there was no one there. The door to the kitchen was standing wide open, and the sink was on. The stillness of the kitchen scared Gwen, so she ran upstairs to get her mother, but she was gone. Her mother was declared missing for three days until volunteers and police found her body in the woods. It was determined that an animal must have attacked her and nothing more was said about the case. They all grieved, but Gwen’s father had his flock and his religion, Gwen’s brother had his music. Gwen had nothing to help her cope, only questions. Something had killed her mother, not some animal. But once again fear had silenced the town. Gwen was very angry over the injustice, and the anger made her bitter too early in her life.
The highschool years were a blur of failed tests, parties, and drugs. She graduated highschool and caught a bus out of town on the same day. Gwen was on a downward spiral, but finally, she cried out for help. Two years after running away, Gwen returned to her hometown determine to make amends to her family and try to establish some kind of life. She is now working at the local diner and trying to enroll at a nearby community college, but something has Gwen’s attention. That old manor has been on Gwen’s mind and it’s only a matter of time before her curiosity drawls her too close in the manor’s grasp. |
46,877 | 1,265 | 8 | 2,677 | 6,563 | William's anxiety peaked, and he began feeling like he needed to just do something. Not exercise-wise, but he was trapped here, there weren't really much answers and he was too nervous to ask them, being out of his comfort zone, so he searched his cell instead. His eyes landed on a book that had lain beside him, unnoticed until now. Stepping forward, he knelt down to pick it up. Flipping it over from its face-down position, he read the cover: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The phrase "Don't Panic was scrawled appropriately helpfully across its spine in black Sharpie, over the spine's title.
He took an oddly large swell of comfort and familiarity from its worn pages, from the way its corners had been folded in from landing on them, or the raggedness of its edges from use. Ah, a book that is loved- that is used. Treated as if it were loved and treasured- but not fawned over and protected as if it were someone's pride. This is mine, I think.
So he pocketed the book, angling himself slightly so that the others may not notice, though the pocket's bulge may give it away, and felt inside the pocket upon feeling something else. He pulled out a small, silvery cannister, and immediately thought- Pepper spray. Then the slight memory came back, just enough of an impression so that he can remember what it was. Seasoning, it was, and he could tell from the scratched edges and slight dents in it that it'd been his for a while- unless it had been planted there.
He turned back to everyone else, rising, and clapped his hands together. Suddenly invigorated, he spoke. "So! We've got the... English Lady, I would say, named Evelyn De Winters, we've got the gentlemanly Korean smirker," adding some humor to the word, "Whose name is Tay... yang. Or something like that- I'll just call you Tae, for the sake of deviation. And the lovely..." He paused, clearly searching for a word that wouldn't offend that would still match his descriptiveness. "Cocoa-skinned Anjah, whose origins I don't rightly know, probably American- Anyone can be American these days. I think. No offense, that is."
He beamed, if a little forced because of the situation, and gestured vaguely at Evelyn. "Please, a tour would be... welcome. Most certainly so, if the birds have no argument." He paused again, and continued. "And I hear none- regardless if they aren't here or not." | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,878 | 1,265 | 9 | 128 | 742 | Anrah was absolutely dumbfounded at the way Will chose to point them out; She couldn't believe that he could be so tactless as he spoke. To choose to differentiate between them by race and origin honestly rubbed her the wrong way, setting her on edge once more. She shifted away from Will, using Evelyn and Taeyang as a sort of roadblock. Be it to keep him from her or vice versa, Anrah wasn't very sure at the moment.
But... he was just so ignorant that she couldn't help but dig her nails into the palms of her hands, lest she use her fists for something else. The stinging in her eyes was no doubt from frustration, but she wasn't sure if she cried from anger or lashed out. If Will continued on this path, however, she was sure her memories of such would return with which action she took.
The way that Taeyang stiffened and that ever-present smirk slid off his face, his lips thinning into cold indifference showed that Anrah wasn't the only one who was offended by Will's...way with words.
"Yes, a tour would be nice." Her voice was obviously strained with false politeness. "But...are there any other people besides the two of you? I wouldn't want to interrupt anything just for the sake of sightseeing." | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,879 | 1,265 | 10 | 2,677 | 6,563 | Helene awoke with a slight start. She was sprawled out on the queen size bed like a cat lazing in the sun. Her pale eyes searches the space around her for clues of her location. The room was very large, painted baby blue with gold blooming floors implanted in the walls. There were a number of cloud white doors that lead into a bathroom and a walk in closet. The set of double doors were open and Helene noticed a lavender sitting room. She lets out a small cry of delight as she recognizes the room she had woken in. Of course Helene was at the manor! She had stumbled into her true home only moments before dawn just this morning. It had been almost a year since Helene had walked the halls of her home, but she had grew a little bored of traveling and had finally returned. She had been in a bit of a daze, so Helene was uncertain if anyone knew she had returned. With a small excited giggle, Helene sprung out of bed, removing her thin nightgown as she approached her closet. She selects a silk blue dress with white lace that fell just short of her knees. Her pale yellow curls are pulled into a simple up-do and a few strands of hair escape and fall around her face. Her innocent appearance matched the bliss Helene was feeling to be home.
The bright decorations gave way to a more dark and subtle tone as Helene heads downstairs. Silence greats Helene as she walks through the first level of the manor. She could sense the coven within the walls of her home, but they seem to be gathered somewhere. She follows her senses, traveling deeper into the home until she is at the edge of a stone hallway. Voices carry down the hall, Evelyn and Teayang are among those speaking, along with two newcomers. With her body pressed against the cold stone, Helene slowly creeps toward the room with a wide smile. There could be only one reason to be gathered with these newcomers, they were newborn. Children, young and bright eyed, reborn onto this beautiful world. Helene loved when there were newborns around. Helene heard the female inquire about others in the manor, a perfect entrance.
“Oh, my lovely, there are so many of us.” Helene appears to puur the words as she appears in the doorway. her voice betrayed her French nationality, but she no spoke with the air of nobility she had been born into. She lets her eyes slowly take in the new women, as if she was drinking in her essence. She was strong, Helene could already tell that. Her strong gaze switches to the new male, a little more shy than the girl, but Helene could see the intelligence lurking in that gaze. Helene steps out of the doorway so she could join the others. “Hello, I am Helene.” | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,880 | 1,265 | 11 | 1,949 | 2,861 | You DARE keep me waiting?
A woman's voice boomed from the upstairs foyer and carried down into the corridors and cellars below. The eldest of the coven was clearly impatient.
"Bring the new blood, NOW!" | Name: Avalai Ambre Merigue
Gender: Female
Age: 418
Personality: Demure, dainty, dangerous. All three of these words describe the lady Avalai only in passing. Truthfully, she is much harsher, much more rash, and holds incredibly little patience for anyone. She enjoys the finer things in life, including leading night hunts that may or may not end in a ball of blood. She is unpredictable and has long overcome the shock of witnessing death. Perhaps, she even enjoys it. Ah, but of course, it all must be done with a touch of class.
Likes: Blood, discourse, lavish surroundings, Romance/mystery novels, luxurious outfits and hunting.
Dislikes: Being trapped indoors, moonless nights, staying in one place for too long, anything that probably costs less than 5 dollars.
History: Miss Avalai was turned into the red queen she is today at the ripe age of 25, so many, many centuries ago. Bitten by a vampire vying for power, she was kidnapped by him and brainwashed into being his escorting lady to Dracula's lavish evening balls. He misconstrued her gentleness for weakness, however, and she killed him at the ball that very night when, ironically, even though she was the one that was being held against her will, showed interest in other women. She became a point of interest to Dracula and was accepted into his more.... closer crew. With the help and pointers of other vampires she was able to grow her knowledge of aristocracy while simultaneously developing the overpowering sensation of thirst. She began the hunts, the mass hoards of vampires stalking in the night, providing terror to all those who set eye upon the legion behind her. Today she still sits, a fond pet of the most infamous vampire of all time. |
46,881 | 1,265 | 12 | 128 | 742 | Taeyang visibly flinched as the voice rang through the dungeon rooms. He was never too fond of the harsh way Miss Avalai greeted newcomers- having been on the other end of her sharp tongue. Truth be told, despite Miss Avalai's elder position in their coven, he much preferred the company of De Winter manim. That's not to say Taeyang avoids the woman; knowing her dislike for staying still, he often invites her out on his nightly walks. Though it is, of course, always her choice whether or not to accept the offer. He had a feeling that she didn't much like him, be it for his young age or joking attitude, he didn't know. He wasn't sure how she acted around others.
"That..." He waved his hand towards the stairs, leading Evelyn, Helene and the two fledglings up the stairs, bringing up the back. "That is Miss Avalai. She's the oldest of our coven- but don't ask her how old she is of course that's just rude- and pretty close to the Big Man of all of us." They got to the door of the foyer and he stepped in front to push it open. "Just...be respectful, alright?" He wasn't really up to dealing with the backlash of disrespectful fledglings to one of Dracula's favorites.
He pushed the door open and stepped in after the four. Standing in front of the eldest, he bowed. "Miss Avalai, these are two new additions to our family, Miss Anrah and William, with any variant there upon to his name." He spoke before coming out of his bow. He looked over and nodded at Anrah reassuringly.
*-*-*
Anrah stepped up, confident but still humble as she bowed her head. "It's nice to meet you, madam, thank you for bringing us into your home and taking care of us."
She wasn't sure if that was the right way to address a...head vampire, or whatever she was, but Anrah hoped it was at least respectful enough that she wasn't seen as just some uncaring teenager. | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,882 | 1,265 | 13 | 2,677 | 6,563 | William followed along quietly enough, opting for observation over conversation. He didn't like the sound of this "Miss Avalia", or Avalai, or whatever. His political side ruffled its feathers from the blatant disregard of the voice- she clearly expected them to come, and to come now, regardless of their occupation at the moment.
But when he walked into the room, falling slightly behind Anrah as a habit- his mother was stronger than him, or at least, it felt like... and it just felt natural to fall behind the one whom he felt may or may not be stronger than him. Either way, he jumped with an uncertainness in the presence of the coven leader, his writer's side coming out.
"Aye, a gracious and kind gesture indeed, to shelter new fledgelings like us, regardless if any of you here were the ones that... turned us. A mighty helpful thing it is, not to be alone." He followed Anrah's motions, and bowed as he started, trying to be elegant (though whether or not he was is up for debate, but it's the thought that counts... right?) | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,883 | 1,265 | 14 | 1,949 | 2,861 | Avalai rested in the shadows, her legs crossed in a most ladylike manner. Her fingers drummed against the red leather armchair she sat on as they came into view and bowed. Finally, she rose.
She stepped into the moonlight, revealing her over the top and gorgeous red gown. Clearly she was in the favor of some very powerful people, as illustrated by the absurd but not gaudy amount of jewels adorning her hands. A quaint black hat pulled down over one of her eyes, leaving the one exposed to illuminate its metallic golden hue, appearing to glow in the darkness. She grinned, her exposed eye flashing as she appeared to be pleased with what was set before her.
"Fledglings!" She began, clearly excited, all hint of her former irritation mysteriously vanished. "I see great promise in you!" Her pale neck gleamed in the moonlight as she brought her chin lower to her chest, looking at them only in a way a predator would look at its prey. She stalked over to the dark skinned female and raised her hand to scrape her cheek with her long, red painted fingernails. Her eyes only seemed to light up more.
"A dark skinned vampire..." She breathed, clearly ecstatic. "So few of them left. Whoever decided to turn you had exquisite taste and had a grand head on their shoulders." She took Anrahs hands into hers. "I welcome you, a sister of the night."
Then her head turned to the male. Her eyes flicked up and down to examine him. And she sneered.
"Ugh. No class. No taste. I doubt much should come of you, boy." She turned her back to them, walking over the windows as though she had not just completely insulted her new fledgling. "We should have them... hunt... tonight." A cheshire's grin in her voice. | Name: Avalai Ambre Merigue
Gender: Female
Age: 418
Personality: Demure, dainty, dangerous. All three of these words describe the lady Avalai only in passing. Truthfully, she is much harsher, much more rash, and holds incredibly little patience for anyone. She enjoys the finer things in life, including leading night hunts that may or may not end in a ball of blood. She is unpredictable and has long overcome the shock of witnessing death. Perhaps, she even enjoys it. Ah, but of course, it all must be done with a touch of class.
Likes: Blood, discourse, lavish surroundings, Romance/mystery novels, luxurious outfits and hunting.
Dislikes: Being trapped indoors, moonless nights, staying in one place for too long, anything that probably costs less than 5 dollars.
History: Miss Avalai was turned into the red queen she is today at the ripe age of 25, so many, many centuries ago. Bitten by a vampire vying for power, she was kidnapped by him and brainwashed into being his escorting lady to Dracula's lavish evening balls. He misconstrued her gentleness for weakness, however, and she killed him at the ball that very night when, ironically, even though she was the one that was being held against her will, showed interest in other women. She became a point of interest to Dracula and was accepted into his more.... closer crew. With the help and pointers of other vampires she was able to grow her knowledge of aristocracy while simultaneously developing the overpowering sensation of thirst. She began the hunts, the mass hoards of vampires stalking in the night, providing terror to all those who set eye upon the legion behind her. Today she still sits, a fond pet of the most infamous vampire of all time. |
46,884 | 1,265 | 15 | 2,677 | 6,563 | William just snorted, clearly unbothered by her insult. The way he saw it, the grand showy one was the one without much class, ordering people about and then insulting without even sugarcoating it. Really, his sister at age ten could do better than this.
So he just shrugged his shoulders, and said without much care, "Whatever you say, miss. You just think that, then." He looked around at his new... companions? And took note that he and Taeyang were the only males. Perhaps vampires were sexist? That was an interesting thought. Or maybe all the original vampires were guys, and they suddenly started going after ladies, and the ladies just didn't bother?
Another interesting thought. It was certainly worth the consideration, later, when he was out of the blunt one's presence. Blunt, he thought, is a suitable nickname for her. Best tread carefully, though. Wouldn't want to end up dead again. He restrained the urge to chuckle at that. He really couldn't help holding it, so he continued after some moments, anger and some amount of sprouting hate urging him on, giving him confidence, "Aye, the one who keeps casual and keeps to himself is most certainly a horrible, useless one, while the one who blatantly shows favoritism and insults on a whim is certainly the one whose opinion matters the most. And what have I to fear? The one who apparently is the most powerful one here already dislikes me from a look-over, and yet you've no idea what I can do. I may indeed be useless, but I may be the opposite as well."
And yet he stood there, hands in his pockets, calm as the sea on a sunny day. Shoulders squared, eyes burning at such disregard, at what was an injustice in his eyes. That, and it also may or may not be the fact that she disregarded him. She couldn't know, of course, that his hand was curled around the spice canister- she comes at him, he doubts she'll enjoy having superhot spices sprayed into her face. He could hear and see better than he ever had, so she probably could do even better- and will make it all the worse if he's forced to defend himself.
Speaking of which, how will he even get out of here? Doesn't matter- if he hates anything, it's people like this one.
A scowl replaced his calm at his thoughts following his part.
"Don't know where I am, don't know who I am, don't know what I am, and I'm already being judged without any knowledge of what I can do, who I was, or who I am. Sometimes the prettiest of creatures can be the deadliest, and yet, sometimes others blend so well, that you don't know they're there until you're dead. Don't judge a book by its cover, Miss. I'd certainly appreciate it if you did."
He wished he had the feel of a handgun in his hand right about now. He felt as if things might escalate a bit, with his anger and courage that stems from being dead and having nothing to really go for. And he didn't, did he? What was waiting for him? Who were his friends, his enemies? Who could he trust? Oh, he could try to trust, but he figured he might either get on his feet, or get his knees broken.
In the end, he really had only one thought; it was Whatever. I'm either dead or not as dead. | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,885 | 1,265 | 16 | 128 | 742 | Anrah wouldn't have liked to admit how she froze when Avalai's fingers drew across her face. She couldn't much say she was surprised that there weren't many dark-skinned vampires, maybe they were discriminated against even in the world of supernaturals. She was actually quite surprised by the woman's excitement at seeing her, though. Surprised and oddly satisfied- as though a parent had just congratulated her on a good grade...or at least she thinks that's how it would feel...did she ever have that experience? Either way, satisfied.
She had to suppress her own smile as Avalai dismissed Will, and could see Taeyang's struggle as well. It seems they both were holding a bit of a grudge against the man already. She jerked back in surprise at Will's retort. Didn't Taeyang tell them not to rock the boat?
With a growl that would make her think he was a werewolf, Taeyang stood a bit taller, and a more threatening air swirled around him.
*-*-*
That idiot. Taeyang's mood shifted in an instant. He may not like Miss Avalai as much as he did Evelyn, but he held her in high regard and respected her for the length of her existence. She was close to Dracula. The big guy. The legend. there was no doubt that there was something in her that was more important than anyone under her.
When he shifted in front of her and growled, he knew he wasn't going to get along with this kid. He surprised himself by the action, as his laid back attitude had completely disappeared, something he wasn't used to; but the thought of this fledgling disrespecting an Elder, an Elder of Elders, pulled out his basic instinct to protect those above him.
"Watch your tone, William." he warned, teeth lengthening as he stood in front of Avalai and Anrah. | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,886 | 1,265 | 17 | 1,949 | 2,861 | Avalai's head only turned when Taeyang threatened the paler fledgling.
"Taeyang," She mused, a strange sort of purr resonating in her voice, "Don't believe I belittle you when I say that your actions prove to me how positively adorable you are." Despite saying this, any human would have to agree that the asian vampire was incredibly terrifying. But for one of her age, it was like looking at a puppy barking at mouse. Precious.
"But, lower your hackles," She chuckled softly. "Give me a bit of... space." Whether or not Taeyang understood exactly what that meant would not matter. There was work to do. | Name: Avalai Ambre Merigue
Gender: Female
Age: 418
Personality: Demure, dainty, dangerous. All three of these words describe the lady Avalai only in passing. Truthfully, she is much harsher, much more rash, and holds incredibly little patience for anyone. She enjoys the finer things in life, including leading night hunts that may or may not end in a ball of blood. She is unpredictable and has long overcome the shock of witnessing death. Perhaps, she even enjoys it. Ah, but of course, it all must be done with a touch of class.
Likes: Blood, discourse, lavish surroundings, Romance/mystery novels, luxurious outfits and hunting.
Dislikes: Being trapped indoors, moonless nights, staying in one place for too long, anything that probably costs less than 5 dollars.
History: Miss Avalai was turned into the red queen she is today at the ripe age of 25, so many, many centuries ago. Bitten by a vampire vying for power, she was kidnapped by him and brainwashed into being his escorting lady to Dracula's lavish evening balls. He misconstrued her gentleness for weakness, however, and she killed him at the ball that very night when, ironically, even though she was the one that was being held against her will, showed interest in other women. She became a point of interest to Dracula and was accepted into his more.... closer crew. With the help and pointers of other vampires she was able to grow her knowledge of aristocracy while simultaneously developing the overpowering sensation of thirst. She began the hunts, the mass hoards of vampires stalking in the night, providing terror to all those who set eye upon the legion behind her. Today she still sits, a fond pet of the most infamous vampire of all time. |
46,887 | 1,265 | 18 | 128 | 742 | Taeyang looked over to Miss Avalai and nodded his head, taking a step back and ignoring the comment about him being adorable. It would do nothing to stir up trouble by complaining. Plus, it wasn't much of an insult to him; he would much prefer to look adorable than threatening. The day Miss Avalai sees him as threatening is the day his teeth are in her throat; in other words, never.
He tilted his head at Helene as she spoke to Will. She was enjoying this a bit too much, considering Miss Avalai could have them all culled with one word to Lord Dracula. | Name: Taeyang "Yang" Cheochi
Gender: Male
Age: 128
Appearance: !( "Yang")
Personality: Yang is still young in his mind, and likes the idea of the role of little brother amongst the Elder vampires. He tends to tease and try to lighten the atmosphere when he feels things are getting too tense. He'd act like the fun older brother to the fledglings coming in, acting as the "middle child" between the two groups. He has a habit of swearing in Korean if he gets flustered or upset- but he tries to hide those feelings and stay acting as the fun loving person he wants people to see him as. He acts a bit like a kicked puppy if offended or hurt, and usually wonders what he did wrong on his nightly walks.
Likes: Yang loves movies and how much they've progressed. He likes old castles and architecture, reading, stretching and sitting in weird/uncomfortable looking poses- though they are the most comfortable to him. He likes being around others and making them happy and more comfortable, as it helps him feel better when others do.
Dislikes: Tension, no conversation when many are around. Continuous talking when he is obviously busy or trying to read. Being yelled at and left out/pushed away.
History: Born at the tail-end of 1886 to a Korean ambassador, Taeyang was traveling to foreign countries at a very young age. He made friends all around the world and had to learn several languages- or at least good enough to hold a conversation with kids around his age. It was in these travels that he both learned his love of reading- the boat rides were very long, after all. He also had it instilled in him to make the children of the other ambassadors and leaders happy, thus creating good relations between the -hopefully- next generation of nation leaders and ambassadors.
This continued up until his 28th year of life. The first World War was just a few months started, and as a neutral country, his father- and subsequently, still him despite his age- was sent to talk with both the Allies' ambassadors and the Axis'. This led to his kidnapping in late october of 1914, in the middle of the First Battle of Ypres. Prussian spies, sent to kidnap the Belgian ambassador- whom his father was in a meeting with- found it better to take him in hopes of strong-arming Korea to join their side. He was tortured,and interrogated for information.
When the Powers in Korea declined joining the Axis', and all but signed his death warrant, he was put out in the front lines with no weapon. He tried running, and was close the the Allies' stronghold when a shot rang out and pain erupted in his stomach. Last thing he remembers is someone shouting, then a man in a british uniform dragging him somewhere secluded and biting him. When he woke up he was in the castle and grudgingly greeted by the other Elders. It's been his life ever since. |
46,888 | 1,265 | 19 | 2,677 | 6,563 | William's eyes flicked from one person to the next, or from the people that he could see. He angled himself, feeling a pit open up in his stomach, like an inevitable doom. Either way, what does it matter? If he finds some reason to live for, he'll tread carefully. Right now, he doesn't.
Everyone respects this one, the one that dismissed him so casually. Oh, he knew that he shouldn't have, but it's all said and done, and this one... all of these weren't right. They were old, broken from their immortality, or at least, were from his point of view. Helene and Avalai, he knew, they weren't human anymore. He was. A dead one, but he was human. They were... well, just vampires now.
And then another thought crossed his mind- they're all killers. Every single one of them have killed many times. God knows how old they are- Taeyang might be older than the Korean war, Evelyn older than the Renaissance, Avalai older than the Hundred Years' War. No, to be close to the "big one," whom he was pretty sure was ol' Dracula himself, he doubted they'd be "young." She's ancient.
He felt more like he stepped into the devil's lair, now. Well, shit. All of these people would bow down in a heartbeat to this one, and I just talked back to her. At least I'll go down on my own terms, I guess. | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,889 | 1,265 | 20 | 1,949 | 2,861 | Avalai turned, her skirts swishing gently at her feet, back towards the newbies.
Next thing anyone would see is her in front of Will.
Her pale hand would grip his wrist, connected to the hand still feeling the pepper spray in his pocket. She would use this grip to throw him to the ground and plants her long boot, accented with a stilletto heel against his pale face. She presses down hard, threatening to break his jaw. She stares down at him, her golden eyes glowing with malice and pure, at this time indeterminate, unadulterated and undivided commanding evil.
"I am Avalai Ambre Merigue," Began the red woman, her voice echoeing throughout the manor with all the power she commanded. "And I am your new Queen." | Name: Avalai Ambre Merigue
Gender: Female
Age: 418
Personality: Demure, dainty, dangerous. All three of these words describe the lady Avalai only in passing. Truthfully, she is much harsher, much more rash, and holds incredibly little patience for anyone. She enjoys the finer things in life, including leading night hunts that may or may not end in a ball of blood. She is unpredictable and has long overcome the shock of witnessing death. Perhaps, she even enjoys it. Ah, but of course, it all must be done with a touch of class.
Likes: Blood, discourse, lavish surroundings, Romance/mystery novels, luxurious outfits and hunting.
Dislikes: Being trapped indoors, moonless nights, staying in one place for too long, anything that probably costs less than 5 dollars.
History: Miss Avalai was turned into the red queen she is today at the ripe age of 25, so many, many centuries ago. Bitten by a vampire vying for power, she was kidnapped by him and brainwashed into being his escorting lady to Dracula's lavish evening balls. He misconstrued her gentleness for weakness, however, and she killed him at the ball that very night when, ironically, even though she was the one that was being held against her will, showed interest in other women. She became a point of interest to Dracula and was accepted into his more.... closer crew. With the help and pointers of other vampires she was able to grow her knowledge of aristocracy while simultaneously developing the overpowering sensation of thirst. She began the hunts, the mass hoards of vampires stalking in the night, providing terror to all those who set eye upon the legion behind her. Today she still sits, a fond pet of the most infamous vampire of all time. |
46,890 | 1,265 | 21 | 2,677 | 6,563 | 'Course, William wasn't idle. He had already tensed up with her words- "get out of the way" sort of thing to the person standing between himself and the old-as-hell psychopathic murderer- or at least, he assumed- and had already begun edging both his hands out of his pockets to take defense or run.
So when she darted towards him, it was more reflex and surprise that made him stumble backwards, inadvertently dodging her pale hand. Landing on his back with an umph!, his pepper canister dropped from his hand, just out of his pocket.
So then he grabbed it, raised it up, and aimed it right at the elder vampire, more likely to start doing something to him... and sprayed the entirely modern-ish spice liquid seasoning stuff at her. He didn't care where it hit, since the smell alone made his eyes irritated and start watering immediately, his nose burning with enhanced senses that he most certainly did not have beforehand. | Name: William/Wilson/Willy/Will Turner
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: Generally easy-going, and while he can take some crap, he can get aggravated and even angry very easily, though he tries not to show it. Keeps to himself, though he does like to be friendly after he's had his sugar, or his blood, now, and loves a good book with something tasty. Large appetite; loves to try new foods, blood excepted, and is revolted the whole need-blood thing.
Likes: Stories and Legends, a habit of referring to nature as the "All-Mother" and some similar little things, friendly people, a good book or four, a good place to sit and sleep and lay, jackets, odd hats, strategy games, being unique and different with things similar to what can be found in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Would wear a waterproof jacket in the summer, a waterproof jacket and a pullover in the fall, and a waterproof trenchcoat with the pullover underneath during the winter. Also likes wearing his trenchcoat for the sake of wearing it. Absolutely LOVES the cold, and the snow. Also snacks on jalapenos and occasionally carried around what was essentially watered-down pepper spray to put on food.
Dislikes: Cowardliness, unreasonable actions, immoral or irresponsible behavoir, far-too-serious peoples, stupidity above all, phyiscal exercise
History:
--William, who was born into a very wealthy, very political, family, didn't have the best parents. Not as in they beat him, but more like they were trying to mold him into their personal tool for their own gain. They loved his older sister- she was their pride, and she was more outspoken and manipulative than any in the family, including all two brothers and other sister. William, however, the youngest, the third brother, was smarter. Not in that he manipulated better, but he just didn't care for it, and he never went along with anything they said to him. While the others were all, more or less, going to be powerful politicians of the wealthy Turner family, Willy was more interested in philosophy, books, rolling about in the Northern Nebraskan snow, playing video games and building a little network of people to talk to online.
--Because of his upbringing, he had to have a tight reign on his actions and emotions. Even though he wasn't going to be a politician, his upbringing did bring some of the perks of being one. He learned his social graces, though he doesn't always abide by them on a strict basis, and often deviated from the 'norm' that his parents and family had set, just to aggravate them. A sort of revenge, see, of trying to raise him to essentially be another political tool. He was busy reading the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his room's porch when everything went black.
--When he woke up in a very unfamiliar place, still clutching his book with a deadly grip, still wearing his jeans and trench coat, well, he looked around, and tried to remember why he was there and what page he was on with the Guide. |
46,891 | 1,266 | 0 | 1,685 | 173 | The orange sun shone upon the small white houses of the City of Beginnings. The buildings are made of white bricks which reflecting an oozing state of yellow under the evening shade. The floors along with the city borders are also of a white color. Along the streets, a few marble statues can be noticed, with the shape of mythical creatures like Dragon, Phoenixes, or bizarre creatures that doesn't seem to originate from any fairy tales. The roof of the houses area mostly made of wood, which dulls down the luxury of the place. Some houses are empty, while some others are item & weapon shops occupied by NPCs. The center of the place have the tallest structure, a clocktower which shows the time in Roman Numerals, and rings when it hits 12 noon. Around it is a fountain with water of a clear crisp, as well as a few Koi fishes frockling in the water. The clouds blows a cooling, spring breeze as players spawns beside the clocktower.
The city is located near the west edge of the floor, being surrounded by a large cresent-shaped field which encompasses a good amount of land of 1F. Further east is a forest, and then a cave by the walls, which is said to be the dungeon of the 1st Floor. There's a neighbouring village in front of the nearest path to the forest, which is a common stop for the players who want to venture to the forest, which consists of monsters of higher difficulty.
Fate, on his four legs, moved towards the nervegear that was lying on the floor. Squeezing his head towards the nervegear, he found himself back into the world, beside the clocktower as usual. As usual?... Fate looked at his hands, they were still animal paws. Staring towards the rough reflection of the water, he realized that his appearance had remained unchanged. Wait... there should be an Avatar creation phase beforehand... Strange... Fate sat beside the fountain and sighed, the clocktower rang as Fate looked towards the evening sun which never rise or set, but only stays still on one spot. The players seemed to have more realistic features than the Beta testing. Did that avatar feature get scrapped out or something?
He decided not to attract any unwanted attention with his appearance, and strolled off towards the item store, buying a sword as well as a few potions with his starter money. | Name: Fate
Status: Beta Tester , Eurasian
Age: 7 (Mentally 17 from cat's maturity)
Appearance: Fate is a light, furry brown cat who have bright blue eyes, with a slight amount of deep scars that can be seen on his right hand. He dons a black tattered hat which covers his ears. He usually wears a light-colored T shirt & black shorts. Standing on two legs, he wears a pair of slippers, and he has a sheathed sword that's his main weapon in combat. He's a midget, though he was heightened to a human height by the Ruler.
Personality: Fate is a quiet & reserved cat, who doesn't like talking with humans, as well as not wanting to meddle on their business, despite being able to communicate with them in game. Despite this, he is rash, and would usually do violence to settle conflicts.Though, he's usually nice & friendly, and have a good temper. When in battle, he always have a calm demeanor, with his eye level towards his opponent's, with a steady awareness. He likes eating, and would consider most food as "good" due to his life living off garbage leftovers. He's mostly a country bumpkin on human technology, not knowing how to use devices like phones or computers.
History: Fate was a stray cat who lived in the streets foraging food for himself. His parents left him when he was young, which is relatively common for a stray, and thus he lives in the part of the alley alone. A year before, he was picked up by a scientist, who explained to him that he was selected for Beta Testing. Entering the virtual world of Aincrad in a human avatar, he was surprised how he could communicate with humans so easily without any language barrier. He was relatively in low-profile back in beta testing though, spending time brandishing the ability to use human tools that he hasn't used before. With this, he learnt how to use a sword, seeing that its the easiest to use amongst the 3 basic weapons for him.
Race: Cat
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Fighter, single edged sword which is sheathed on his side, slightly thicker than a rapier.
Others: |
46,892 | 1,266 | 1 | 1,386 | 349 | After finalizing the connections, The Maker decides to approach Darrin one last time. “This is it, my friend. Once I flip this switch,...”
“I’ll be over in the actual game, yes, I know.” Darrin intrudes on The Maker’s sentence, “I’m just happy I could help you get those algorithms down in time for the release. Plus, I guess I should thank you for saving me from Death Row. I’m just glad that the only thing that could really kill me now is a severe virus that I can’t fix.”
The Maker, sounding hesitant, replies, “Right. A virus. Well, take care!”
“Wait!” Noticing his hesitation too late, Darrin is pulled through the network link and into the game. “Dammit!” Darrin screams at the top of his lungs with irritation, and begins to feel light headed. Thankfully, he has learned to manage short rage bursts, and he gets himself under control. He then takes the time to look around, seeing random people staring at him like he was a lunatic.
Embarrassed, Darrin storms down a back street paved with rock, and stops at an NPC vendor. The NPC tries to grab his attention, but he tones it out, thinking back on his situation. He knows three things. First, he’s an alpha tester with scarce knowledge on the actual game itself besides the NPCs and the battle system. Second, there is no leaving the game for him what-so-ever. Third, The Maker, who he now dubs as Bob (being as he doesn’t much care for the name), hesitantly replied to Darrin’s mention of death and viruses. He begins to get the feeling that this game may very well become his grave if he isn’t careful.
On that note, Darrin rummages through his inventory, checks out his stats, menu selections, etc. After having everything set up he heads back to the center of town to find a generic item shop to spend his meager starting cash on potions and a bow. | Name: Darrin Guillot
Status: Alpha Tester, Illegal tech. that rips the consciousness from the human body and allows full control of it in data form. Basically an AI controlled by a human mind.
Age: 38
Appearance: right click - open in new tab
Personality:
Socially oblivious: Has a hard time holding converstations that don't interest him
Emotionally quiet: Doesn't like to hurt other, while bottling feelings when hurt(look to Others for best insite on this.)
Also, hides most of his true feelings behind a smile and friendly (or calm) persuations.
Loner: Won't approach others very much, but won't deny the company of others.
History: To be honest, Darrin was never a criminal. He acted only for the betterment of society, and nothing else.
It all starts with him as a professional hacker. He has trained long and hard in the art of computer science and there aren't many things he can't understand or find out. He also ran a psychology class at MSU Mankato, and knew a lot about the human mind as well, even if he was a terrible judge of character. One of the last important things he studied was archery, which he was decent in, but not the best. Practice makes perfect, and he only practices psychology and computer science. Archery just became a pass-time event.
After a few years, he began to become bored with life and started looking into VR gaming. He didn't understand why he chose gaming of all things, but he decided to give it a try. Unfortunately for him though, the technology wasn't ready for public use. Because he couldn't believe that (with the state of technology at its finest yet), he began a hacking spree to search government databases and online data hubs for anything he could find. Well, that's where he messed up. After a few days, he finally found what he was looking for, but at the same time, the FBI showed up on his front step and took him into custody.
Weeks passed as Darrin waited for his sentence, and someone finally approached him. "Hello," said the cloaked man, being sure to hide his face from Darrin.
"Who are you, if I may ask?" Darrin replied with a massive question mark above his head.
"Ah, that's not important." The man sounded very friendly as he continued, "What is important is why I'm here. Because you illegally accessed secure files that belong to the government, you've sentenced to death."
"Wait, what!?" Darrin exclaimed. "Death!? For searching through files? Really? Is that information really worth putting people to death over?"
"Unfortunately for you, yes," the cloaked man said, speaking calmly and friendly.
"So then," Darrin began, "what is it that you want from me? I'm sure you're not here to offer me a way out of this completely, otherwise you would have shown me your face at least."
"Hehe... straight to the point then, I guess? Well first, let me clear your conscience and tell you that the info you were searching for is not honestly worth putting people to death over." The man continued with a resolved sound in his voice, "Second, you are correct that I can't fully offer you a way out of 'real' death."
"Wait!" Darrin interrupts, "Pause. 'Real' death? What do you mean 'real'?"
"Well, be quiet and I'll explain." The man continues with the same resolved sound, "Now, as you already know, we are in the trial periods of the VR interface technology that you were looking into. With that said, we don't have very many people just lying around to run these tests on, so..."
"Your data is sparse, you need new subjects, and I would be a good candidate," Darrin very impatiently interrupts. "Yeah, I get that, but what about this 'real' death? Is there some other kind of..." Darrin stopped mid-speech as if he realized something.
There was short pause before the other man began, "You understand what I mean when I say 'real' death now? The tech. you saw on the files you hacked were just the start of it. Our original goal was to get the full consciousness of one body, and turn it into, essentially, an AI. That means your mind and consciousness are apart of the world wide web, while your real body rots and dies."
"Well, you've definitely peaked my interest. However, I didn't intend to get on the government's bad side, so I want to clear it with..."
"Already done." The man turned and handed Darrin a piece of paper stating his crimes can't be forgotten, and he has the clearance to accept the task this man has to offer.
After Darrin finished reading the page, "Well... I don't know what to say..... other than, when do we start?
Eventually, Darrin was released and brought to a major facility in the middle of no where (not Area 51). When he was brought inside, the cloaked man came forward holding what people of today call a NervGear. "Here you go, Darrin," he said calmly as the cloaked man handed Darrin the device.
Darrin stood there, peered at the NervGear, and then, "So I'm guessing this is supposed to take the electrical impulses in my brain, intercept them, and compute them out like a program. Am I correct?"
"As smart as ever," the cloaked man stated, as he removed his hood, revealling himself as the maker of the game. "Now, once you put that on, your life is very fragile. As we haven't completed testing, there is a chance you will 'fully' die in the process. So..."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm already on death row, so why's it matter?" Darrin wasn't in the best of moods that day, and now knowing it was the game maker who brought him here, for some reason, it began to irritate him even more. "Just put me in, run your tests, and let's get this over with."
At this moment, Darrin put the NervGear over and on his head with a slight jerking motion, turned the NervGear on, and began the testing runs. The game maker then began running battle simulations where Darrin chose his weapon of choice, being a bow, and started battling.
Days passed, and Darrin had been in the NervGear all that time. It was at this moment when he began to wonder, and then he asked, "So, Game Maker. You can hear me right?"
From an intercom like system he heard the man's voice, "Yeah, is something wrong?"
Darrin prepared himself, "How do I get out?"
"Well," the game maker hesitated a bit, "you don't. You're kind of stuck in there, and that's what I've been running tests for."
"So that's why the 'real' body rots dies, right? What about my body? I can't feel anything in here accept for the blades, arrows, and magic, so what's up with my real body right now?"
"Hold on," the game maker announced with a concerned sound in his voice. "You're telling me you feel hungry? You're stumach doesn't hurt?"
"No, why?"
"Hold on a sec." The game maker's voice disappeared for a few seconds. "You still there?" he said sounding as if to be across a room.
"Yeah, I'm still here." Darrin became confused by the situation and started to break it down in his head. First, he thought about how the game maker was curious about there being no pain in his stumach. Second, he thought about the game maker's voice sounded like he was talking across the room, and Darrin began to think that the game maker aproched his body in the real world and did something. Even knowing this, for some reason he couldn't think of what the man had done to his body.
After a long pause, Darrin began to hear, "So... anyways.... you are dead."
"...........Dead, how?"
"I mean you are dead, out here, in the real world... and somehow, we still have you alive... in there." The man seemed to sound a little more intrigued than concerned.
"So, I take it that you want to run different tests with me now?" Darrin explained, as unenthusiastically as ever.
"You're not phased," the man began with more concern this time, "by the fact that you are now dead with no way of returning to the real world?"
"Do I need to remind you of Death Row policies?"
"No, no. I guess not. I just thought you would be a little more concerned, but I guess I was wrong. Oh, and to answer you question; yes, I would like to run new tests."
"Run me through your speech programs then," Darrin proclaimed with much more enthusiasm.
"What?" the game maker said, confused.
"If you did your research on me properly, then you would know that I taught psychology at MSU Mankato."
"Yes, I remember that."
"If we work together like this, and you keep running the algorithms you have set for the speech mechanics, we can find a way to make your NPC's sound more realistic. It might even mess with some of the players and make them believe that NPC's are real people."
"Wow," the game maker sounded surprised. "That's kind of a dark ulterior motive, don't you think? However, you are right, as far as making them sound more realistic. Alright let's do it." At this time, Darrin and the game maker began a painstakingly diffuclt task for the next 6 months. It was at this time when the game maker also determined how to bring people back out of the NervGear, and it was also the day the game was announced.
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Archer / Japanese Style Bow
Others: Darrin has what some might call an "anger-management issue." Due to the fact that he bottles his hurt emotions, his mind constantly teeters on the line of sane and insane. While he is sane, he will act normally, which for Darrin, confers benevolence. However, at times, these bottled feelings become to much to bare, and he loses consciousness, usaually attacking anyone near by that has pissed him off or gets in his way. The best way to prevent this "Hulk-mode" from surfacing.... stay on his good side.
Side-note: He's more of a reincarnated human than an actual AI. That's just the description used between that game maker and Darrin. |
46,893 | 1,266 | 2 | 2,096 | 5,087 | At last. The highly anticipated game Aincrad Online, and he was playing it. He was glad he was one of the 10,000 people to receive the first copies of the game. Now he was going through character creation, and he was having a heck of a time figuring out what appearance he wanted. He wasn't the most creative when it came to appearances, and often just went with the flow. Eventually he decided to keep it a bit similar to his actual appearance, but add his own little touches to his avatar. Now he needed to choose his class. Hmm.... perhaps he would go with a support class.
With that done, he pressed the "Accept" button and found himself in the town square of a town. Well, this certainly looked promising. People around him were already here, enjoying themselves in the game. He took a few moments to get used to his character, stretching his arms and legs, then taking a few steps in circles. Satisfied, he opened the menu and selected the "Inventory" button, checking out what he had on him. It wasn't all that much, just beginner gear, which was to be expected. Well, nothing a bit of gold farming wouldn't fix. He wandered around the town, looking for a way outside to kill some low leveled creatures. | Name: Rick Stanson
Gender: Male
Age: Physically 33, Mentally much more
Race: Originally Human, now Fae (boost to Agility/Dexterity, penalty to Strength)
User Handle: Arcturus
Status: Alpha Tester
Elemental Attribute: Air
Role: Fighter, dabbling in Mage
Weapon: Katana, magic
Appearance: Tall, about six foot four, with long black hair, a closely-trimmed goatee and blue eyes that were once bright but now are dull and dead. Pointed ears from the race change.
Personality: Cold, emotionless and pragmatic for the most part, though just occasionally a spark of what he once was before the Alpha Test will shine through.
History: Taken from his home for the Alpha Test, Arcturus was the favoured labrat for the combat system, as he was skilled in several martial arts and with the sword. At first, it was easy - clunky, jerky movements with no skill or tactics, and he cut them down imagining them to be his kidnapper. But they learned quickly, and soon it was a struggle to stay alive. Even as the rudimentary stat system boosted his ability, the monsters grew almost too fast for him to manage. Soon enough, his days became a constant haze of frantically battling against overwhelming odds, trying to come up with new tactics over and over again, only to get cut down in agony as a sword or axe or spell ripped him open.
However, it went both ways - in time, Arcturus learnt the loopholes in the system, the way the mob AI worked, and unlike them, he was not limited for the sake of the players. He discovered exploits, and while many were patched, some were inherent to the very nature of the game and had to be left in. He gamed the system, learning to control and shift the attention of mobs, how best to kite them, their tactics, their allies, spawn rates and common stomping grounds.
By the time of the release, he had long since stopped using sword skills, recognising them for the trap they were - the pause at the end left a dangerous opening for an enemy attack. Instead, he relied on his learnt abilities, altered slightly to avoid triggering any of the preprogrammed attacks. Today, he is one of the most deadly and combat-effective players in the game, but also one of the most broken, countless cycles of violence and death having irrevocably shattered something inside him. |
46,894 | 1,266 | 3 | 1,685 | 173 | Fate walked off the item store with his completed shopping spree, carrying a bag of items behind him (He doesn't know how to use inventories). "Time for an epic start for my fantasy adventu- ouch!" He'd accidentally bumped onto Darrin, falling down on the floor with a huge thud. He's a human... Frowning at Darrin as he started picking up the fallen items back into the item pouch, he approached Darrin as he made an apology with a monotonous, unsincere tone. "And... You're too tall, I can't see you, meow~" Fate added, throwing his items back into the pouch. "The scammer Ruler, stating that I will be changed to human height, and yet there ain't much difference. I've became taller, but I'm still a midget..." Fate hissed, his eyes glinted towards Darrin as he tiptoed frustratedly, desperate to be seen as equals, in terms of size at the very least. "Now I'm not~" | Name: Fate
Status: Beta Tester , Eurasian
Age: 7 (Mentally 17 from cat's maturity)
Appearance: Fate is a light, furry brown cat who have bright blue eyes, with a slight amount of deep scars that can be seen on his right hand. He dons a black tattered hat which covers his ears. He usually wears a light-colored T shirt & black shorts. Standing on two legs, he wears a pair of slippers, and he has a sheathed sword that's his main weapon in combat. He's a midget, though he was heightened to a human height by the Ruler.
Personality: Fate is a quiet & reserved cat, who doesn't like talking with humans, as well as not wanting to meddle on their business, despite being able to communicate with them in game. Despite this, he is rash, and would usually do violence to settle conflicts.Though, he's usually nice & friendly, and have a good temper. When in battle, he always have a calm demeanor, with his eye level towards his opponent's, with a steady awareness. He likes eating, and would consider most food as "good" due to his life living off garbage leftovers. He's mostly a country bumpkin on human technology, not knowing how to use devices like phones or computers.
History: Fate was a stray cat who lived in the streets foraging food for himself. His parents left him when he was young, which is relatively common for a stray, and thus he lives in the part of the alley alone. A year before, he was picked up by a scientist, who explained to him that he was selected for Beta Testing. Entering the virtual world of Aincrad in a human avatar, he was surprised how he could communicate with humans so easily without any language barrier. He was relatively in low-profile back in beta testing though, spending time brandishing the ability to use human tools that he hasn't used before. With this, he learnt how to use a sword, seeing that its the easiest to use amongst the 3 basic weapons for him.
Race: Cat
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Fighter, single edged sword which is sheathed on his side, slightly thicker than a rapier.
Others: |
46,895 | 1,266 | 4 | 1,386 | 349 | So, Darrin began with an irritated tone, "you're a cat then? I don't know many humans who act like that, and a dog would be much more apologetic than that." Stumped by his knowledge, Fate was speechless as Darrin continued. "Well, regardless, sorry for bumping into you like that. I'll be on my way." Before Fate could say anything, or even exchange names with him, Darrin waltzed right by him and into the shop that Fate just left. "Alright, time to work the magic words!" Darrin exclaimed, twiddling his fingers together in front himself. With a new found enthusiasm, Darrin approached the NPC vendor and began to haggle with him. It took a little word-play and some conversating, but Darrin evenetually got the exact bow he wanted that was made to level with him at a price of just... all of his gold. To be honest it was worth it considering that this item tends to be difficult to find and actually purchase. "Thank you very much, sir. I'll come again really soon for more stuff. Next time, I'll pay you extra to make up for this," Darrin explains, as he begin to think to himself how stupid he sounds talking to an NPC like a real person.
As Darrin turns around, Fate is standing at the door, staring in awe. Darrin puts two and two together and realizes that Fate watched his entire schpeel with the NPC to get this incredible item at such a price. "Cheater, you bought that item lesser than what its supposed to be, I call hax!" Fate gave the middle finger, "Wait... how did you even use hax here?"
"It's a mechanic. All NPC's can be talked to like real people, so if you barter with NPC vendors, you can get even better deals. You just have to know how to deal with real people." Darrin began to think himself a teacher again explain this to Fate, and he bagan to reminisce. "If you want, being a cat and all, I could show you a few lines that would lower prices nearly anywhere you try them. What do you say? It could be my way of, I guess, appologizing for our little accident earlier."
"Anything," The cat replied, letting out a sigh, "Sounds like the art of scamming to me from the explanation, but better than not learning this~ Anyways, Mr. Scammer, my name's Fate~"
"Fate, huh?" Darrin seemed to be perplexed. "Interesting name for a cat. Either way, it's nice. And my name is Darrin." As Darrin finished introducing himself, they left the store and began the lessons. | Name: Darrin Guillot
Status: Alpha Tester, Illegal tech. that rips the consciousness from the human body and allows full control of it in data form. Basically an AI controlled by a human mind.
Age: 38
Appearance: right click - open in new tab
Personality:
Socially oblivious: Has a hard time holding converstations that don't interest him
Emotionally quiet: Doesn't like to hurt other, while bottling feelings when hurt(look to Others for best insite on this.)
Also, hides most of his true feelings behind a smile and friendly (or calm) persuations.
Loner: Won't approach others very much, but won't deny the company of others.
History: To be honest, Darrin was never a criminal. He acted only for the betterment of society, and nothing else.
It all starts with him as a professional hacker. He has trained long and hard in the art of computer science and there aren't many things he can't understand or find out. He also ran a psychology class at MSU Mankato, and knew a lot about the human mind as well, even if he was a terrible judge of character. One of the last important things he studied was archery, which he was decent in, but not the best. Practice makes perfect, and he only practices psychology and computer science. Archery just became a pass-time event.
After a few years, he began to become bored with life and started looking into VR gaming. He didn't understand why he chose gaming of all things, but he decided to give it a try. Unfortunately for him though, the technology wasn't ready for public use. Because he couldn't believe that (with the state of technology at its finest yet), he began a hacking spree to search government databases and online data hubs for anything he could find. Well, that's where he messed up. After a few days, he finally found what he was looking for, but at the same time, the FBI showed up on his front step and took him into custody.
Weeks passed as Darrin waited for his sentence, and someone finally approached him. "Hello," said the cloaked man, being sure to hide his face from Darrin.
"Who are you, if I may ask?" Darrin replied with a massive question mark above his head.
"Ah, that's not important." The man sounded very friendly as he continued, "What is important is why I'm here. Because you illegally accessed secure files that belong to the government, you've sentenced to death."
"Wait, what!?" Darrin exclaimed. "Death!? For searching through files? Really? Is that information really worth putting people to death over?"
"Unfortunately for you, yes," the cloaked man said, speaking calmly and friendly.
"So then," Darrin began, "what is it that you want from me? I'm sure you're not here to offer me a way out of this completely, otherwise you would have shown me your face at least."
"Hehe... straight to the point then, I guess? Well first, let me clear your conscience and tell you that the info you were searching for is not honestly worth putting people to death over." The man continued with a resolved sound in his voice, "Second, you are correct that I can't fully offer you a way out of 'real' death."
"Wait!" Darrin interrupts, "Pause. 'Real' death? What do you mean 'real'?"
"Well, be quiet and I'll explain." The man continues with the same resolved sound, "Now, as you already know, we are in the trial periods of the VR interface technology that you were looking into. With that said, we don't have very many people just lying around to run these tests on, so..."
"Your data is sparse, you need new subjects, and I would be a good candidate," Darrin very impatiently interrupts. "Yeah, I get that, but what about this 'real' death? Is there some other kind of..." Darrin stopped mid-speech as if he realized something.
There was short pause before the other man began, "You understand what I mean when I say 'real' death now? The tech. you saw on the files you hacked were just the start of it. Our original goal was to get the full consciousness of one body, and turn it into, essentially, an AI. That means your mind and consciousness are apart of the world wide web, while your real body rots and dies."
"Well, you've definitely peaked my interest. However, I didn't intend to get on the government's bad side, so I want to clear it with..."
"Already done." The man turned and handed Darrin a piece of paper stating his crimes can't be forgotten, and he has the clearance to accept the task this man has to offer.
After Darrin finished reading the page, "Well... I don't know what to say..... other than, when do we start?
Eventually, Darrin was released and brought to a major facility in the middle of no where (not Area 51). When he was brought inside, the cloaked man came forward holding what people of today call a NervGear. "Here you go, Darrin," he said calmly as the cloaked man handed Darrin the device.
Darrin stood there, peered at the NervGear, and then, "So I'm guessing this is supposed to take the electrical impulses in my brain, intercept them, and compute them out like a program. Am I correct?"
"As smart as ever," the cloaked man stated, as he removed his hood, revealling himself as the maker of the game. "Now, once you put that on, your life is very fragile. As we haven't completed testing, there is a chance you will 'fully' die in the process. So..."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm already on death row, so why's it matter?" Darrin wasn't in the best of moods that day, and now knowing it was the game maker who brought him here, for some reason, it began to irritate him even more. "Just put me in, run your tests, and let's get this over with."
At this moment, Darrin put the NervGear over and on his head with a slight jerking motion, turned the NervGear on, and began the testing runs. The game maker then began running battle simulations where Darrin chose his weapon of choice, being a bow, and started battling.
Days passed, and Darrin had been in the NervGear all that time. It was at this moment when he began to wonder, and then he asked, "So, Game Maker. You can hear me right?"
From an intercom like system he heard the man's voice, "Yeah, is something wrong?"
Darrin prepared himself, "How do I get out?"
"Well," the game maker hesitated a bit, "you don't. You're kind of stuck in there, and that's what I've been running tests for."
"So that's why the 'real' body rots dies, right? What about my body? I can't feel anything in here accept for the blades, arrows, and magic, so what's up with my real body right now?"
"Hold on," the game maker announced with a concerned sound in his voice. "You're telling me you feel hungry? You're stumach doesn't hurt?"
"No, why?"
"Hold on a sec." The game maker's voice disappeared for a few seconds. "You still there?" he said sounding as if to be across a room.
"Yeah, I'm still here." Darrin became confused by the situation and started to break it down in his head. First, he thought about how the game maker was curious about there being no pain in his stumach. Second, he thought about the game maker's voice sounded like he was talking across the room, and Darrin began to think that the game maker aproched his body in the real world and did something. Even knowing this, for some reason he couldn't think of what the man had done to his body.
After a long pause, Darrin began to hear, "So... anyways.... you are dead."
"...........Dead, how?"
"I mean you are dead, out here, in the real world... and somehow, we still have you alive... in there." The man seemed to sound a little more intrigued than concerned.
"So, I take it that you want to run different tests with me now?" Darrin explained, as unenthusiastically as ever.
"You're not phased," the man began with more concern this time, "by the fact that you are now dead with no way of returning to the real world?"
"Do I need to remind you of Death Row policies?"
"No, no. I guess not. I just thought you would be a little more concerned, but I guess I was wrong. Oh, and to answer you question; yes, I would like to run new tests."
"Run me through your speech programs then," Darrin proclaimed with much more enthusiasm.
"What?" the game maker said, confused.
"If you did your research on me properly, then you would know that I taught psychology at MSU Mankato."
"Yes, I remember that."
"If we work together like this, and you keep running the algorithms you have set for the speech mechanics, we can find a way to make your NPC's sound more realistic. It might even mess with some of the players and make them believe that NPC's are real people."
"Wow," the game maker sounded surprised. "That's kind of a dark ulterior motive, don't you think? However, you are right, as far as making them sound more realistic. Alright let's do it." At this time, Darrin and the game maker began a painstakingly diffuclt task for the next 6 months. It was at this time when the game maker also determined how to bring people back out of the NervGear, and it was also the day the game was announced.
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Archer / Japanese Style Bow
Others: Darrin has what some might call an "anger-management issue." Due to the fact that he bottles his hurt emotions, his mind constantly teeters on the line of sane and insane. While he is sane, he will act normally, which for Darrin, confers benevolence. However, at times, these bottled feelings become to much to bare, and he loses consciousness, usaually attacking anyone near by that has pissed him off or gets in his way. The best way to prevent this "Hulk-mode" from surfacing.... stay on his good side.
Side-note: He's more of a reincarnated human than an actual AI. That's just the description used between that game maker and Darrin. |
46,896 | 1,266 | 5 | 2,096 | 5,087 | Alexander had left the city boundaries and was now in a field, watching people kill boars and other level 1 cannon fodder for xp. He took part in it himself, shooting lightning bolts from his fingers and getting mostly assist xp from the slain monsters. For obvious reasons, assist xp did not allow him to gain as much xp as a final hit would, but since there were so many people just killing monsters and his lightning bolts coming from a cheap spell, he was gathering xp rather quickly. He also gathered gold from the fallen mobs whenever he could.
Eventually he reached level 2. It was a rather simple thing to level up at his current level, but the joy of leveling up still felt great. He even got a new spell. It was just a simple root spell, but he figured he could make good use of it. He tried it against a boar, smiling when magical ropes appeared from the ground and wrapped themselves around its legs. The boat struggled to free itself, but its efforts were futile as Alexander kept shooting lightning bolts at it. However, it soon managed to free itself and charge at Alexander, who tried to block the attack with his staff and take partial damage. The boar tried to charge again, but Alexander recovered enough to shoot a final lightning bolt and kill the boar. Alexander sighed, then got back to his job assisting the other new players with killing the level 1 and 2 mobs. | Name: Rick Stanson
Gender: Male
Age: Physically 33, Mentally much more
Race: Originally Human, now Fae (boost to Agility/Dexterity, penalty to Strength)
User Handle: Arcturus
Status: Alpha Tester
Elemental Attribute: Air
Role: Fighter, dabbling in Mage
Weapon: Katana, magic
Appearance: Tall, about six foot four, with long black hair, a closely-trimmed goatee and blue eyes that were once bright but now are dull and dead. Pointed ears from the race change.
Personality: Cold, emotionless and pragmatic for the most part, though just occasionally a spark of what he once was before the Alpha Test will shine through.
History: Taken from his home for the Alpha Test, Arcturus was the favoured labrat for the combat system, as he was skilled in several martial arts and with the sword. At first, it was easy - clunky, jerky movements with no skill or tactics, and he cut them down imagining them to be his kidnapper. But they learned quickly, and soon it was a struggle to stay alive. Even as the rudimentary stat system boosted his ability, the monsters grew almost too fast for him to manage. Soon enough, his days became a constant haze of frantically battling against overwhelming odds, trying to come up with new tactics over and over again, only to get cut down in agony as a sword or axe or spell ripped him open.
However, it went both ways - in time, Arcturus learnt the loopholes in the system, the way the mob AI worked, and unlike them, he was not limited for the sake of the players. He discovered exploits, and while many were patched, some were inherent to the very nature of the game and had to be left in. He gamed the system, learning to control and shift the attention of mobs, how best to kite them, their tactics, their allies, spawn rates and common stomping grounds.
By the time of the release, he had long since stopped using sword skills, recognising them for the trap they were - the pause at the end left a dangerous opening for an enemy attack. Instead, he relied on his learnt abilities, altered slightly to avoid triggering any of the preprogrammed attacks. Today, he is one of the most deadly and combat-effective players in the game, but also one of the most broken, countless cycles of violence and death having irrevocably shattered something inside him. |
46,897 | 1,266 | 6 | 1,685 | 173 | Sooo, bargaining's legit huh... Humans are damn fucked up nya, they can just slaughter us and yet its 'legal' as long as nobody sees it, huh, and when a lion kill someone, its called murder, even in a deserted area~ Fate complained and crosses his arms after his bargaining lesson from a strange-looking human. He doesn't have much issues on talking to him normally for some reasons... Ever since he got into the game from the beta testing, its a complete different world from what he has seen throughout. Damn... its like I'm turning into one of them... His pair of eyes narrowed in unease, with a mutter of a few words, "Phone, Visible Mode".
A green floating box the size of a Standard TV appeared beside Fate, displaying the user interface on every side of the box, glancing on his statistic. "Strange... it's supposed to be here somewhere..." Fate rolled his Phone , inspecting every single sides of the cubical Phone. "Hey mister, do you have any ideas to logout? The logout button's missing..." Fate asked as he turned towards Darrin. | Name: Fate
Status: Beta Tester , Eurasian
Age: 7 (Mentally 17 from cat's maturity)
Appearance: Fate is a light, furry brown cat who have bright blue eyes, with a slight amount of deep scars that can be seen on his right hand. He dons a black tattered hat which covers his ears. He usually wears a light-colored T shirt & black shorts. Standing on two legs, he wears a pair of slippers, and he has a sheathed sword that's his main weapon in combat. He's a midget, though he was heightened to a human height by the Ruler.
Personality: Fate is a quiet & reserved cat, who doesn't like talking with humans, as well as not wanting to meddle on their business, despite being able to communicate with them in game. Despite this, he is rash, and would usually do violence to settle conflicts.Though, he's usually nice & friendly, and have a good temper. When in battle, he always have a calm demeanor, with his eye level towards his opponent's, with a steady awareness. He likes eating, and would consider most food as "good" due to his life living off garbage leftovers. He's mostly a country bumpkin on human technology, not knowing how to use devices like phones or computers.
History: Fate was a stray cat who lived in the streets foraging food for himself. His parents left him when he was young, which is relatively common for a stray, and thus he lives in the part of the alley alone. A year before, he was picked up by a scientist, who explained to him that he was selected for Beta Testing. Entering the virtual world of Aincrad in a human avatar, he was surprised how he could communicate with humans so easily without any language barrier. He was relatively in low-profile back in beta testing though, spending time brandishing the ability to use human tools that he hasn't used before. With this, he learnt how to use a sword, seeing that its the easiest to use amongst the 3 basic weapons for him.
Race: Cat
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Fighter, single edged sword which is sheathed on his side, slightly thicker than a rapier.
Others: |
46,898 | 1,266 | 7 | 1,386 | 349 | As Fate mentions the logout button, a past event runs through Darrin's head.
*"What do you mean it's not there? It should be. Check again," Bob announced.*
*"Dude, I'm looking at the menu 6 times over. There is no button for anything in the options." Darrin was confused, "Shouldn't that have been fixed? I mean, a menu is kind of necessary for games to work properly."*
*"Hold on, just give me a minute." Bob began fiddling with different options in the game settings, from the damage output, all the way up to mana regen. Nothing he found fixed the menu issue. He decided to check one last thing; Darrin himself. Bob pulled up Darrin's information and found something rather interesting. "Oh, okay. That explains it."*
*"What? What happened?" Darrin asked with genuine curiosity.*
*Bob began clearly, "Okay, I fixed the major issue. You should be able to see the menu, but to put it simply, you can't access the menu. Because you aren't an 'avatar' anymore, the game somehow realizes that, and your options menu has been taken away due to the fact that in real life - and in there - you don't have hearing aids, meaning you can't manipulate your ability to hear things. Also..." Bob continued explaining that Darrin's access to the menus were a little bit restricted. He couldn't access the sound options, but they would be visible. He couldn't access the graphics options, but they would also be visible. Lastly, he would be able to access the logout function, but it was highly unadvised. Due to the fact that Darrin had no body to return to in the real world, his consciousness would be lost in the world wide web, spread to thin for Darrin to control his thoughts and feelings, effectively killing him.*
After that plays in his head, Darrin pull open his menu, flips to the options side, and finds that the logout button is missing from his screen as well.
*"Right. A virus. Well, take care!"* There was something going on that Bob refused to tell Darrin right to the end of there cooperation with each other, and this bothers Darrin severely.
"Uh, mister?" Fate is waiting for Darrin's reply.
Recollecting himself, Darrin,rubbing his face, focuses and answers, "Sorry about that. It was something I remembered. Anyways, I can't find the logout option anywhere on here, so I don't know how to logout." Darrin figures that he shouldn't mention his memory, other wise it might send the wrong message to Fate. "I'll go ask around and see if anyone knows anything. Do you want to meet back up at the town square?"
"Sure~" Fate seems anxious. "Come back before two hours, okay?"
"Alright. Two hours it is." With that, Darrin and Fate separate for a while, and Darrin begins talking to other players. All who seem to have the same issue: no logout button. *"Right. A virus. Well, take care!"* Bob's last words won't stop ringing in Darrin's head, and he starts becoming flustered... and agitated. Darrin begins his breathing routine to calm down, then he pieces together the things he knows. First, Bob most likely knew something about this situation. Second, everyone else is in the same boat as Darrin and Fate when it comes to logging out. And third, even though Darrin's 'logging out' is basically the same thing as death, meaning it's good for him alone that the logout button is missing. However knowing this even he can't put this puzzle together.
An hour and a half have gone by already, and will take Darrin approximately 20 minutes to get back to the town square, so he begins walking walking back. | Name: Darrin Guillot
Status: Alpha Tester, Illegal tech. that rips the consciousness from the human body and allows full control of it in data form. Basically an AI controlled by a human mind.
Age: 38
Appearance: right click - open in new tab
Personality:
Socially oblivious: Has a hard time holding converstations that don't interest him
Emotionally quiet: Doesn't like to hurt other, while bottling feelings when hurt(look to Others for best insite on this.)
Also, hides most of his true feelings behind a smile and friendly (or calm) persuations.
Loner: Won't approach others very much, but won't deny the company of others.
History: To be honest, Darrin was never a criminal. He acted only for the betterment of society, and nothing else.
It all starts with him as a professional hacker. He has trained long and hard in the art of computer science and there aren't many things he can't understand or find out. He also ran a psychology class at MSU Mankato, and knew a lot about the human mind as well, even if he was a terrible judge of character. One of the last important things he studied was archery, which he was decent in, but not the best. Practice makes perfect, and he only practices psychology and computer science. Archery just became a pass-time event.
After a few years, he began to become bored with life and started looking into VR gaming. He didn't understand why he chose gaming of all things, but he decided to give it a try. Unfortunately for him though, the technology wasn't ready for public use. Because he couldn't believe that (with the state of technology at its finest yet), he began a hacking spree to search government databases and online data hubs for anything he could find. Well, that's where he messed up. After a few days, he finally found what he was looking for, but at the same time, the FBI showed up on his front step and took him into custody.
Weeks passed as Darrin waited for his sentence, and someone finally approached him. "Hello," said the cloaked man, being sure to hide his face from Darrin.
"Who are you, if I may ask?" Darrin replied with a massive question mark above his head.
"Ah, that's not important." The man sounded very friendly as he continued, "What is important is why I'm here. Because you illegally accessed secure files that belong to the government, you've sentenced to death."
"Wait, what!?" Darrin exclaimed. "Death!? For searching through files? Really? Is that information really worth putting people to death over?"
"Unfortunately for you, yes," the cloaked man said, speaking calmly and friendly.
"So then," Darrin began, "what is it that you want from me? I'm sure you're not here to offer me a way out of this completely, otherwise you would have shown me your face at least."
"Hehe... straight to the point then, I guess? Well first, let me clear your conscience and tell you that the info you were searching for is not honestly worth putting people to death over." The man continued with a resolved sound in his voice, "Second, you are correct that I can't fully offer you a way out of 'real' death."
"Wait!" Darrin interrupts, "Pause. 'Real' death? What do you mean 'real'?"
"Well, be quiet and I'll explain." The man continues with the same resolved sound, "Now, as you already know, we are in the trial periods of the VR interface technology that you were looking into. With that said, we don't have very many people just lying around to run these tests on, so..."
"Your data is sparse, you need new subjects, and I would be a good candidate," Darrin very impatiently interrupts. "Yeah, I get that, but what about this 'real' death? Is there some other kind of..." Darrin stopped mid-speech as if he realized something.
There was short pause before the other man began, "You understand what I mean when I say 'real' death now? The tech. you saw on the files you hacked were just the start of it. Our original goal was to get the full consciousness of one body, and turn it into, essentially, an AI. That means your mind and consciousness are apart of the world wide web, while your real body rots and dies."
"Well, you've definitely peaked my interest. However, I didn't intend to get on the government's bad side, so I want to clear it with..."
"Already done." The man turned and handed Darrin a piece of paper stating his crimes can't be forgotten, and he has the clearance to accept the task this man has to offer.
After Darrin finished reading the page, "Well... I don't know what to say..... other than, when do we start?
Eventually, Darrin was released and brought to a major facility in the middle of no where (not Area 51). When he was brought inside, the cloaked man came forward holding what people of today call a NervGear. "Here you go, Darrin," he said calmly as the cloaked man handed Darrin the device.
Darrin stood there, peered at the NervGear, and then, "So I'm guessing this is supposed to take the electrical impulses in my brain, intercept them, and compute them out like a program. Am I correct?"
"As smart as ever," the cloaked man stated, as he removed his hood, revealling himself as the maker of the game. "Now, once you put that on, your life is very fragile. As we haven't completed testing, there is a chance you will 'fully' die in the process. So..."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm already on death row, so why's it matter?" Darrin wasn't in the best of moods that day, and now knowing it was the game maker who brought him here, for some reason, it began to irritate him even more. "Just put me in, run your tests, and let's get this over with."
At this moment, Darrin put the NervGear over and on his head with a slight jerking motion, turned the NervGear on, and began the testing runs. The game maker then began running battle simulations where Darrin chose his weapon of choice, being a bow, and started battling.
Days passed, and Darrin had been in the NervGear all that time. It was at this moment when he began to wonder, and then he asked, "So, Game Maker. You can hear me right?"
From an intercom like system he heard the man's voice, "Yeah, is something wrong?"
Darrin prepared himself, "How do I get out?"
"Well," the game maker hesitated a bit, "you don't. You're kind of stuck in there, and that's what I've been running tests for."
"So that's why the 'real' body rots dies, right? What about my body? I can't feel anything in here accept for the blades, arrows, and magic, so what's up with my real body right now?"
"Hold on," the game maker announced with a concerned sound in his voice. "You're telling me you feel hungry? You're stumach doesn't hurt?"
"No, why?"
"Hold on a sec." The game maker's voice disappeared for a few seconds. "You still there?" he said sounding as if to be across a room.
"Yeah, I'm still here." Darrin became confused by the situation and started to break it down in his head. First, he thought about how the game maker was curious about there being no pain in his stumach. Second, he thought about the game maker's voice sounded like he was talking across the room, and Darrin began to think that the game maker aproched his body in the real world and did something. Even knowing this, for some reason he couldn't think of what the man had done to his body.
After a long pause, Darrin began to hear, "So... anyways.... you are dead."
"...........Dead, how?"
"I mean you are dead, out here, in the real world... and somehow, we still have you alive... in there." The man seemed to sound a little more intrigued than concerned.
"So, I take it that you want to run different tests with me now?" Darrin explained, as unenthusiastically as ever.
"You're not phased," the man began with more concern this time, "by the fact that you are now dead with no way of returning to the real world?"
"Do I need to remind you of Death Row policies?"
"No, no. I guess not. I just thought you would be a little more concerned, but I guess I was wrong. Oh, and to answer you question; yes, I would like to run new tests."
"Run me through your speech programs then," Darrin proclaimed with much more enthusiasm.
"What?" the game maker said, confused.
"If you did your research on me properly, then you would know that I taught psychology at MSU Mankato."
"Yes, I remember that."
"If we work together like this, and you keep running the algorithms you have set for the speech mechanics, we can find a way to make your NPC's sound more realistic. It might even mess with some of the players and make them believe that NPC's are real people."
"Wow," the game maker sounded surprised. "That's kind of a dark ulterior motive, don't you think? However, you are right, as far as making them sound more realistic. Alright let's do it." At this time, Darrin and the game maker began a painstakingly diffuclt task for the next 6 months. It was at this time when the game maker also determined how to bring people back out of the NervGear, and it was also the day the game was announced.
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Attribute: Light
Role / Weapon Type: Archer / Japanese Style Bow
Others: Darrin has what some might call an "anger-management issue." Due to the fact that he bottles his hurt emotions, his mind constantly teeters on the line of sane and insane. While he is sane, he will act normally, which for Darrin, confers benevolence. However, at times, these bottled feelings become to much to bare, and he loses consciousness, usaually attacking anyone near by that has pissed him off or gets in his way. The best way to prevent this "Hulk-mode" from surfacing.... stay on his good side.
Side-note: He's more of a reincarnated human than an actual AI. That's just the description used between that game maker and Darrin. |
46,899 | 1,267 | 0 | 1,034 | 667 | It was a perfect day in the land of Mlgolia. The airhorns in the sky were tooting, the giant Dorito in the sky was shining its little rays of cancer, and the massive building of Valve Headquarters was shining like a beacon even during the day down below in Bellevue, its namesake valve symbol shining white, powered by the hopes and dreams of gamers wishing for Half-Life 3. Fluffy white clouds of vape mixed with dank 420 smoke were slowly drifting by in the pure blue well-textured skybox. It was a perfect day indeed down below in Steam's capital city of Montage, where people went about their daily lives, professional gamers going to and fro the giant MLG Stadium, trickshotters practicing in Quickscoping Park, stoners lounging around the Hundred Weedcre Woods, and just Steam users working in their officers purchasing and playing games for 99% off. Some young quickscopers made their way to the Steam School of Minecraft and Badassery, a prodigious MLG academy that had been rebuilt after it was destroyed during the Third Steam-Origin War fought between Valve and Electronic Arts.
Up above, the Gordon Freeman-class Valve Corporation Ship of Steam Lord Newell hovered in the air, its massive rotors powered by compressed dank memes spinning. Several aircraft sat on runway, F-22s taking off every now and then to go on routine patrols, and several AH-64 Apache attack helicopters doing much of the same, except heading off to soar over oilfields and dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. The entire ship was painted the colours of Valve: black, white, and grey. Both logos of the corporation were placed in select locations such as its runway and underside. Its main engines used for forward propulsion situated at the back glowed orange from spewing out fission-fragments of Doritos dust during Doritos-Mountain Dew nuclear fission. Its power core was located deep beneath many layers of solid Nokium armour, Nokias that had been taken apart outside the constraints of time and space using Chuck Norris' famous roundhouse kick to break reality itself, and reformed into a nigh-impenetrable material. The core ran on compressed composite Mountain Dew, every single flavour of Mountain Dew mixed into one super-reactive compound power source that is so volatile that it does not have a half-life, but a quarter-life.
As for its weapons, dozens of batteries of oversized AWP sniper rifles were fixed all around its body, quickscoping any hostile foolish enough to fly into its instant kill radius. Several other missile launchers were also built into its structure, homing onto targets. The ship itself was more than five-hundred metres in length, which meant its hangar had room for dozens of aircraft. It was designed by Lord Gaben himself after watching too much Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., which was why it resembled a much more badass version of the Helicarrier. It was also run using the Holy SteamOS.
Some distance away, a UH-60 Blackhawk was making its way to the flying base of Valve. Its passenger compartment was empty save for one person: a young and eager-looking teen with matching brown eyes and hair. A Ballista with CE Digital Camo was slung behind his back and over his zipped-open black hoodie with the MLG logo on it, his grey Aperture Science t-shirt visible. His KAP-40 rested in its holster around his dark blue jeans. He was practically skipping in his black and blue Nike sports shoes.
"Holy crap on a cupcake I can't believe I'm actually going on that thing!" He exclaimed with glee, staring at the pride of Valve. He was Kaliber Kushing, an average kid with decent skillz in qwickscoping and the most mediocre K/D ratio ever. He had decided to join the elite Meme Team after successfully performing a 1080 noscope across-the-map kill. Of course, he wasn't sure it was enough to become a member or Prestige, but a worth a shot.
You only YOLO once, after all.
As the Blackhawk gracefully flew over to the landing platform of the Lord Newell, Kaliber caught sight of a few other Blackhawks, each one carrying one new recruit. There weren't that many, maybe just five or six. | Name: Kaliber Kushing
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Gamertag: XxXKushL0rd777XxX
Appearance:
Personality: A happy-go-lucky and naive young aspiring quickscoper with decent skillz and a mediocre K/D ratio. Likes Mountain Dew, Doritos, and Doritos-flavoured Mountain Dew. Also likes to 420 blaze it.
Bio: Just some random dude who decided to join the Meme Team after successfully performing a 1080 noscope across map kill.
Weapons
Primary: Ballista with CE Digital camo
Secondary: KAP-40 with Tactical Knife
Melee: Knife of Instakilling
Thrown: Tomahawk
Uses Lightweight, Scavenger, and Awareness perks |
46,900 | 1,267 | 1 | 958 | 542 | Lenny descended upon an African-american Hawk like many of the other chosen characters approaching the Steam heli-carrier, his form contained within a volatile, blue alien-ware computer. Coming to the surface of the giant aircraft, the AI's body morphed into full existence to greet the other "K*NTS" that formed this cancerous group. The PC hardware fluctuated multiple times before deciding on the form of a CSGO terrorist (Dust two design, of course). Looking upon the other recruits with his floating, seizure-inducing head, Lenny's virtual eye was eventually caught by one simple human. "'Kaliber Kushing'?, 'KushL0rd'? WHaT THe HEll Is ARt THoSe NAmEs FAGGoT? R U AnoTHeR ONe OF ThOSe SHoTGuN USiNG SCrUbs ThAT USes LUck SHOts 2 BE MLg?! K Y S", the AI said before starting a live stream to taunt the unqualified kid. Equipping his decorated Karambit and beginning to goad the noob with his own amazing gear, Lenny typed into his densely populated Twitch chat. "YO GuiS, TYpE 'KALIbEr Is A STuPId NiGEriAN CITiZen' In THe CHaT. REk HIm GOOd, ANd HiS MuM TOO ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)." | Name: Le Lenny, Patron Of The Ungodly Denny's
Age: As old as sexual innuendos
Gender: Fag
Gamertag: LeLenny_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)[email protected]
Personality: Wrong, naive, raunchy, creepy, has almost no limits, and will probably find you when you're asleep. Lenny is the master of sexual innuendos and chatting with girls in CSGO. He never hacks but always gets the wall-bang AWP kills and persistently tells twelve-year-olds to 'kys' un-ironically. Is gay ironically. Will rig the CSGO lotteries for a new knife. Will sell you FAze brand knife for credit-card information.
Bio: Lenny was born from the first sexist joke ever uttered, and now haunts the internet making sure that no one can play a CSGO match without saying 'faggot'. An advanced AI made by a team of Russian hackers, Lenny has been perfected to make sure forums and MLG communities are rightfully toxic all the time. He has always done his job well. Lenny is also commonly known by the names 'quick-scoper', 'no-scoper', 'AWP ace', and 'the gay hacker that cheated me out of a factory-new faDE AWP SKIN'. Be careful when trading skins with him, he might just get under your skin ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Weapons:
Primary: AWP, with Fade skin and Statrak.
Secondary: Your Anus, with Fade skin and Statrak.
Melee: Knife: Karambit, with Fade skin and Statrak.
Thrown: Flashbang, with Fade skin and Statrak. |
46,901 | 1,267 | 2 | 256 | 2,259 | The most musical of this bunch of rookies was already there recruiting any passing n00bs for the Skeleton Army. To all, he was not known as someone who cared for conversation. He was not known for the insane 720 noscope headshots he did on a daily basis. He was known for providing trumpet solos that supplied the listeners with the holiest supply of calcium known to man. Mr Skeltal was in the top 10 CoD:BO3 Zombies leaderboard from his mlg skills with his knife strats and his most mlg of sniper rifles. He downgraded to a Barrett .50 cal for this team though, as he didn't want to blind them with his ultimate power just yet. As the skeleton approached the Steam Heli-carrier, he pulled out his trumpet and played a holy rhythm for everyone around.
*Never Gonna Give You Up, but it's dooted* | Name:
Mr. Skeltal
Age:
Dead
Gender:
Skeleton
Gamertag:
XxXxD00TD00TxXxX
Appearance:
Personality:
Mr. Skeltal likes to play the trumpet, is a good luck charm for those who desire to have good calcium in their system, and will only speak in doots. He likes bones, bonejobs, and smoking only the finest kush around.
Bio:
Not much is known about the elusive Mr. Skeltal aside from his impeccable playing of only the finest music pieces with his trumpet covers, like Megalovania, Bonetrousle, Bring Me to Life, and who could forget his trumpet-step cover of We are Number One. Recent information that has been recovered about the skeleton is that he may be recruiting souls and soldiers for the skeleton army that is destined to spark back up within a reasonable amount of time. However, while he awaits for his call to arms, he spends his time bettering his noscopes, quickscopes, and across-map grenade kills.
Weapons:
Primary - Barrett .50 Cal spray-painted gold.
Secondary - THE 420MLGBLAZE TRUMPET (A grenade launching trumpet, man don't you love modding?)
Melee - Over this slot, he took a kazoo. You always need to be prepared for kazoo covers.
Thrown - Flashbangs only. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.