how does this thing work?

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Spectre of the Fade

Nerd
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern, Apocalypse, Action and adventure, Steampunk, Dieselpunk, People with Powers, some historical eras, lots and lots of other things. Feel free to ask.
Spectre's wreck of a Test Thread
WELCOME
Hello! My name is Spectre (Or Sam, if you're feeling familiar) and welcome to my code dump. Now featuring less blindingly white text boxes! I mostly make the bbcodes for shits and giggles, though I've gotten quite good at it over the months and months and months I've been working on doing so. Kind of a calming practice for me, at this point. Feel free to look around, though I make no promises on organization. I'd love credit/notification if you're planning on using something of mine.

If you're looking for my good and/or completed codes, this thread here has that in a far more neat and orderly fashion. c:

A couple of requests:
1.) Don't post, unless you've asked permission or I said to.
2.) Please don't be afraid to ask me to explain things in PMs.

A couple of warnings:
1.) Lots and lots of gifs, images, videos. Especially on the latter pages.
2.) Lots and lots of cursing. I am an unapologetic pottymouth.

Gonna drop some interesting links:
Iwaku Color Guide
Div Shit
Color Picker
Filler Text Generator
Photo Editor 1 - Collage edition
Photo Editor 2 - Filter edition
This post about writing accents
Text replacer!! - literally saves my live on a weekly basis
Room Sketcher
FREE Image background remover
Imgur - my current image storer
Google Font List
Flex boxes? Flex boxes.
Useful Tumblr blog - Clothes and Historical Shit
Useful Tumblr post - big ass list of mythical creatures

FACECLAIMS
I made an alphabetized FC list! Fuck yeah. Fuck, that was a massive pain in my ass. The people are sorted by gender then surname, and the symbols are my own ranking system. More * means I like their face more, and a ☆ means I've used them as an FC in the past or am currently using them as an FC.
also pls tell me if I made a mistake. pls, for realsies.
BOIS
name surname - Image search -

David Agbodji - **
Johan Akan - ***
Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje - **
Dawid Auguscik - ***
Pedro Aurelian - *
Braeden Baade - *
Daniel Bamdad - ☆ ***
Ben Barnes - **
Daniel Bederov - ☆ **
Brandon P. Bell - ***
Matthew Bell - **
Don Benjamin - ☆ ***
Jon Bernthal - ☆ ***
Gijs Blom - *
Tim Borrmann - **
Alex Bouchard - *
Ryan Bowden - **
David Brandt - Gallery Site - **
Matthew Brue - **
Caleb Callahan - **
Mario Casas - *
Cristian Codrin - **
Joe Collier - **
Andrew Cooper - **
Alejandro Corzo - **
Jai Courtney - ☆ **
Ben Dahlhaus - **
Arthur Daniyarov - *
Craig David - *
Casey Deidrick - ***
Andrea Denver - **
Benjamin Eidem - *
Boy Epic - **
Ben Feldman - **
Alexander Ferrario - **
Daniel Feuerriegel - **
Diego Fragoso - **
Dave Franco - **
Adam Gallagher - ☆ **
Dan Garland - ***
Daniel Garofali - **
Anthony Gastelier - ☆ ***
Dean Geyer - *
Baptiste Giabiconi - **
Artjom Gilz - **
David Giuntoli - **
Arthur Gosse - **
Frank Grillo - **
Adam Gurr - *
Quim Gutierrez - *
Armie Hammer - ☆ **
Thorbjorn Harr - ☆ **
Anders Hayward - *
Daniel Henney - **
Alfonso Herrera - **
Aldis Hodge - **
Craig Horner - **
Michiel Huisman - *
Billy Huxley - ☆ ***
Allan Hyde - *
Cheyanne Jackson - **
Stephen James - **
Erko Jun - *
Julien Kang - ***
Harshvardhan Kapoor - ***
Marwan Kenzari - **
Boris Kodjoe - *
Rahul Kohli - **
Francisco Lachowski - ☆ *
Miles Langford - *
Toby Leonard - ☆ **
Leandro Lima - ☆ **
Anton Lisin - *
Franco Lo Presti (? uncertain) - **
Alexander Ludwig - *
Daniel Madison - **
Rami Malek - ☆ **
Sasha Marini - **
Callan Mulvey - ☆ **
Sergio Muniz - *
Hideo Muraoka - ***
Cillian Murphy - **
Antonio Navas - **
Victor Norlander - **
Sean O'Pry - *
Alexis Papas - *
James Quaintance (Jimmy Q) - ☆ ***
Felix Rahmer - **
Matt Raimo - **
Edgar Ramirez - **
Blair Redford - **
Trevante Rhodes - ***
Drew Roy - **
Jesse Rutherford - ***
Benjamin Sadler - **
Adrien Sahores - **
AJ Saudin - ***
Adam Senn - *
Arran Sly - *
Clement Stevenant - *
Johnny Stevens - *
Levi Stocke - ☆ **
Chay Suede - **
Rajiv Surendra - ***
Alexander Uloom - **
Casper Van Dien - **
Bastiaan Van Gaalen - **
Simon Van Meervenne - **
Mateus Verdelho - ☆ **
Adam Von Rothfelder - ☆ ***
Hannes Wengle - ***
Edward Wilding - **
Finn Wittrock - **
GRILS
name surname - Image search -

Amy Acker - **
Clara Alonso - **
Angela Bassett - ☆ **
Valentina Belleza - ☆ ***
Alana Bunte - ☆ **
Amra Cerkezovic - **
Benthe De Vries - **
Alice Francis - **
Ashley Frangipane (Halsey) - **
Noni Gasa - ☆ ***
Beck Holladay - ☆ ***
Ellen Hollman - **
Alyosha Kovalyova - **
Katrina Law - **
Noemie Lenoir - **
Aiyana Lewis - ***
Gugu Mbatha-Raw - ***
Thandie Newton - **
Lupita Nyong'o - ***
Oluchi Onweagba - **
Felicia Porter - ☆ ***
Hilary Rhoda - **
Isabella Rossellini - **
Emily Rudd - **
Scarlett Simoneit - ☆ ***
Antonia Thomas - ***
Antje Traue - ☆ ***
Denise Vasi - ☆ **
Alek Wek - **
Michelle Yeoh - **
Elodie Yung - ☆ ***
Amelia Zadro - **
Ziyi Zhang - **
 
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DANIEL DE BEAUVILLIERS

98 | Male | Vampire | Demisexual | Chaotic Good
" please believe me when i say my heart is good​ "

  • Full Name: Joseph Antoine Daniel de Beauvilliers
    Nickname(s): Danny, Dan, Doc
    Birthdate: January 25th; Aquarius
    Birthplace: Churchill, Manitoba, Canada
    Affiliation: Regulus Pandemonium

    "Yes, I'm aware being born within the last century makes me little more than a child to most of my kind. Thank you for your invaluable input."
  • Height: 5'11"
    Weight: 167 lbs
    Piercings: Both ears, tongue
    Tattoos: A color chest piece, a back piece, colored full sleeve on right arm, color tattoo on left arm
    Hair: Dark brown, wavy in texture, kept short and neatly styled
    Eyes: Blue, dark like the midnight sky, flick to silver during moments of emotional stress
  • Paragraph here

    Traits:
    + Confident
    + Principled
    + Tenacious
    = Inquisitive
    = Blunt
    = Sarcastic

    - Self-depreciating
    - Emotionally insensitive
    - Vindictive

    Likes: Some things
    Dislikes: Some stuff
  • Vampire Traits
    Mind Compulsion ♠ Immortality ♠ Super Speed ♠ Senses ♠ Agility ♠ Strength & Durability ♠ Dream Manipulation ♠ Healing Factor ♠ Emotional Control ♠ Enhanced Emotions ♠ Limited Telepathy

    Vampire Cons
    Witchcraft ♠ Animal Blood ♠ Broken Neck ♠ Fire ♠ Sunlight ♠ Decapitation ♠ Heart Extraction ♠ Invitation ♠ Werewolf Bite ♠ Werewolf Blood ♠ Wooden Objects ♠ Hunger ♠ Vervain

    Talents: (Optional. What talents your character has from his/her human life or Vampire life)
    Strengths: (If any, what strengths your character has brought with him from his/her human life)
    Weaknesses: (What trauma, fear or anything similar that still haunts your character in his/her Vampire life)
  • (Obligatory) Paragraph here
  • Family:
    Olivier de Beauvilliers|Father|Deceased - Human, never learned of his son's transformation, died in his sleep in 1963
    Adelinde de Beauvilliers|Mother|Deceased - Human, also never learned of her son's transformation, died in 1962 after a year and a half battling cancer

    Current Status: Single
    Love Interest: Open~ Poke me if you have ideas.
    Friends: Open!
    Enemies: Open!
    Frenemies: Open!
  • 1.) Face claim is Adam von Rothfelder
    2.) Color code is #C5B358
    3.) Lyrics around text are from Love & War - All Good Things

    Fears:
    Spiders, Clowns, Therapists
    Quote:
    “He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”
    Friedrich Nietzsche

" i tried to give it away but i never could​ "


 
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RICHARD HENDRY

36 | Male | Werewolf | Bisexual | Lawful Neutral
"Oh, take your time, don't live too fast."

  • Full Name: Richard Beauregard Hendry
    Nickname(s): Prefers Bo, will answer to Rich but never Rick
    Birthdate: May 7th; Taurus
    Birthplace: Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA
    Affiliation: Crescent Lunar Pack

    "I'm pretty hungry. Feeling pretty...wolfish, you might say. Hah? Yeah? No? Well, Claire thinks I'm funny."
  • Height: 6'4"
    Weight: 224
    Piercings: None
    Tattoos: Clan Ralston crest on right bicep
    Hair: Dark brown sprinkled with gray, loosely curly in texture, long because he hardly bothers with trimming it
    Eyes: Dark brown, smooth and even in color, tend to be warm; flash gold during moments of intensity, marking him as a born werewolf
    Werewolf Form:
    tumblr_mjk3syNwKY1s88e7wo1_500.jpg
  • Richard is the sort people tend to have positive opinions of, for the most part. He's polite and hardworking, chivalrous enough to hold doors or help with shopping bags and quiet without going so far as to be antisocial. His playful nature, tendency to be tactile, and downright juvenile sense of humor are rarely exposed the first handful of times one meets him, and instead come across over time as one becomes more friendly with him. These inner traits can be a large positive or a large negative, depending on one's views of them.

    He's the sort you never see angry but don't have to bear witness to it to know he has a temper; he's the sort who hardly ever gives up on a relationship but never rebuilds a bridge after it's been burned.

    The fastest way to earn his friendship is to offer him food.

    Traits:
    + Dependable - always on time, always willing to help a friend, operates on a personal and very relaxed time schedule but will never fail to meet a deadline
    + Patient - well used to dealing with insults and shitheads, finds explaining things or repetitive tasks to be exhausting instead of frustrating
    + Honest - completely shameless, will answer any question asked him as honestly and hopefully inoffensively as he can
    = Protective - is a Papa Wolf; going for his friends, family, or anything he cares about is easily the fastest way to anger him
    = Unadventurous - strongly prefers familiar patterns and routines, strongly prefers thinking through things thoroughly before making decisions, neither are strong enough preferences to label him cautious
    = Easily Amused - has a childish sense of humor; it's easy to occupy his time, it's difficult to pull him away from something he finds particularly amusing
    - Proud - rarely admits when he's in the wrong or made a mistake, prefers to gloss over such occurrences, prefers to apologize through gifts and affection instead of actual words
    - Obstinate - commits to his opinions and especially his opinions of people completely, requires a lot of work to change said opinions
    - Resistant to Change - resists change in his ideas, opinions, routines, and life in general; this compliments his obstinacy in a bad way and makes him an extraordinarily stubborn person

    Likes:
    Coffee ♣ Puns, dirty jokes, toilet humor, and people that can make him laugh ♣ Baking, especially pastries ♣ Food ♣ Talking about his daughter ♣ Classic country, soft rock, some jazz ♣ Warm temperatures ♣ Greens and blues
    Dislikes:
    Loud people and noises ♣ Being interrupted ♣ Mice and rats ♣ Sudden change ♣ Lemons and other sour foods ♣ Complaining ♣ People who are easily offended ♣ Pinks and yellows ♣ People who don't share food
  • Werewolf Traits
    Super Speed ♣ Senses ♣ Agility ♣ Strength & Durability ♣ Werewolf Bite ♣ Werewolf Healing Factor ♣ Lycanthrope Enhancement

    Werewolf Cons
    Witchcraft ♣ Broken Neck ♣ Mortality ♣ Fire ♣ Decapitation ♣ Heart Extraction ♣ Silver Objects ♣ Monthly Forced Transformation ♣ Wolfsbane

    Talents:
    Baking, Boxing, Cooking, Mechanics
    Strengths:
    Fighting ♣ Always composed ♣ Basic survival skills ♣ Doesn't take himself seriously
    Weaknesses:
    Stubborn as a mule ♣ Inflexible, figuratively and literally ♣ Afraid of mice
  • Richard was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and was the product of an unusual pairing; his mother was the youngest member of the Hendry pack, who'd been settled in the Louisiana area since before the Civil War and been apart of Crescent Lunar for as long as it'd been around, and his father was a mere human. A second generation Scottish immigrant, in fact, who'd just returned from a tour of duty with the Marine Corps. The controversy of the pairing didn't affect either Michael or Joan, however, seeing as they were quite soon married and ended up having six more children after Richard. With the Hendry connection to Crescent Lunar, the children all took their mother's last name.

    With six younger siblings and the pack family dynamic of Crescent Lunar, saying that Richard grew up in a hectic environment would be an understatement of massive proportions. He still managed to work up a healthy amount of hero-worship for the Alpha's older son, however, and tended to follow Xavier around like an annoying younger brother when he was younger. Richard had mostly grown out of the practice by the time he was eleven, too busy dealing with his younger siblings, though he still held no small respect for the would-be Alpha.

    He was fifteen when his youngest sibling was born, and he was fifteen when his mother passed. There had been complications with the pregnancy and there were complications with the birth, enough that even a werewolf's physiology and durability couldn't keep her from the brink. Much of the Crescent Lunar Pack was saddened by her loss, but the Hendry siblings were devastated. It helped none that their father shut down after his wife's passing, becoming someone else Richard had to take care of even as he went through his first few transformations as a werewolf. Richard considers the pressure of keeping a family together and functioning even as the werewolf curse triggered within him to be why he's such a well composed individual, and also considers the support of the rest of the pack to be why he pulled through it all reasonably intact.

    Either way, he met a young woman when he was twenty one who captured his attention, wholly and completely, and ended up leaving the pack for her at age twenty two, entrusting the Hendry family to his sister Isabella. The couple moved across the country, bouncing around the West Coast before settling in Redding, California just in time for their young daughter, Claire, to be born. Her mother was unable to accept the stress of parenthood and unwilling to work through the stress a baby put on her already delicate relationship with Richard, and left the both of them well before Claire's second birthday. He spent the next few years working in a bakery and doing his best to parent a rambunctious daughter on his own.
    His brother's death last year really brought how far away he was from his family and his pack to the forefront of his thoughts, and Richard eventually decided moving back to Baton Rouge was the best move for himself and his daughter. He hesitantly accepted one of the unoccupied houses around the Crescent Lunar Manor and moved in just a week ago, looking to rejoin the pack he grew up in.
  • Family:
    Michael Ralston|Father|Alive|NPC - Human, lives on a sizable plot of land south of Baton Rouge, is something of a hermit and hardly comes into town
    Joan Hendry|Mother|Deceased - Born werewolf, passed after giving birth to her youngest child, Dalton
    Isabella Hendry|Eldest sister|Alive|NPC - Born werewolf, lives in California with her pack and her girlfriend
    Jonah Hendry|Older of the twins|Alive|NPC - Born werewolf, lives with their father and leaves home about as much, technically a member of Crescent Lunar
    Marcus Hendry|Younger of the twins|Deceased - Killed in an altercation with a rival pack just over a year before the start of the roleplay
    Roselynn Hendry|Middle sister|Unknown - Born werewolf, moved to Europe when she was nineteen after a bad fight with their father, completely dropped out of contact
    Eleanor "Naya" Hendry|Youngest sister|Alive|NPC - Born werewolf, left Baton Rouge to go to college, settled down in New York
    Dalton Hendry|Youngest sibling|Alive|NPC - Born werewolf, left Baton Rouge to go to college and travel the world
    Claire Hendry|Daughter|12|Alive|NPC - played by me (FC: Ivana Baquero)

    Current Status: Single
    Love Interest: Open~ Poke me if you have an idea.
    Friends: Xavier, Open!
    Enemies: Open!
    Frenemies: Open!
  • 1.) Face claim is Joe Manganiello
    2.) Color code is #556B2F
    3.) Speaks with an accent distinctive to Louisiana, though it's been softened by his years living in California
    4.) Knows American Sign Language quite well, but can't speak any languages other than English
    5.) Can and will break into song while working on something
    6.) Understands the deeply personal motivation many werewolves have for hating vampires without sharing it; tends to advocate for peace rather than war
    7.) Lyrics around text are from Simple Man - Lynyrd Skynyrd

    Fears:
    Mice and rats, Needles
    Quote:
    "Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out."
    Robert Collier

"Troubles will come, and they will pass."


 
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  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: junebug
WIP WARNING:PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK
Subject to change by temperamental creator at any moment
[SPOILI]
THE GEARHEAD

"You ever wonder the hows and whys of things? I do. All the time."
"the stuff and the things , the things and the stuff."

  • NAME: TBA
    PRONUNCIATION: TBA
    NICKNAME/S: TBA
    AGE: TBA
    SEXUALITY: TBA
    ELEMENTAL MAGIC: TBA
    ETHNICITY: TBA
    ACCENT: TBA
  • HAIR: TBA
    EYES: TBA
    SKIN: TBA
    BODY: TBA
    HEIGHT: TBA
    WEIGHT: TBA
    DRESS: TBA
    MARKS: TBA
    TATTOOS: TBA
    SCARS: TBA
    DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: TBA
    HEALTH AILMENTS: TBA
  • PERSONALITY: TBA
    LIKES: TBA
    DISLIKES: TBA
    HOBBIES: TBA
    HABITS: TBA
    TALENTS: TBA
    FEARS: TBA
    CRYSTAL CORE: TBA
    MENTAL AILMENTS: TBA
  • BRIEF BIO: TBA
    POWER: TBA
    STRENGTHS: TBA
    LIMITATIONS: TBA
    FAMILY: TBA
  • FRIENDS: TBA
    ENEMIES: TBA
    LOVE INTEREST: TBA
    NEUTRAL: TBA
  • 1.) Face claim is a person
    2.) Color code is #000000
    3.) Stuff n things
    3.) Stuff around text is from a thing

    Quote:
    "Quotey quote quote quote"
    Person

"doohickeys and thingamajigs, thingamajigs and doohickeys."


[/SPOILI]​
 
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WIP WARNING:PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK
Subject to change by temperamental creator at any moment
[SPOILI]
THE POSITIVE INFLUENCE

"I'm not my parents. I don't know what else I might be, but I am not my parents."
"the stuff and the things , the things and the stuff."

  • NAME: TBA
    PRONUNCIATION: TBA
    NICKNAME/S: TBA
    AGE: TBA
    SEXUALITY: TBA
    ELEMENTAL MAGIC: TBA
    ETHNICITY: TBA
    ACCENT: TBA
  • HAIR: TBA
    EYES: TBA
    SKIN: TBA
    BODY: TBA
    HEIGHT: TBA
    WEIGHT: TBA
    DRESS: TBA
    MARKS: TBA
    TATTOOS: TBA
    SCARS: TBA
    DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: TBA
    HEALTH AILMENTS: TBA
  • PERSONALITY: TBA
    LIKES: TBA
    DISLIKES: TBA
    HOBBIES: TBA
    HABITS: TBA
    TALENTS: TBA
    FEARS: TBA
    CRYSTAL CORE: TBA
    MENTAL AILMENTS: TBA
  • BRIEF BIO: TBA
    POWER: TBA
    STRENGTHS: TBA
    LIMITATIONS: TBA
    FAMILY: TBA
  • FRIENDS: TBA
    ENEMIES: TBA
    LOVE INTEREST: TBA
    NEUTRAL: TBA
  • 1.) Face claim is a person
    2.) Color code is #000000
    3.) Stuff n things
    3.) Stuff around text is from a thing

    Quote:
    "Quotey quote quote quote"
    Person

"doohickeys and thingamajigs, thingamajigs and doohickeys."


[/spoili]​
 
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imgur is amazing, codes are below
[spoili]
rHI3ZEf.jpg

JJxJPWu.jpg

COW3rOT.jpg

1VkDnui.jpg


[/spoili]
 
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DORIAN - THE GEARHEAD
Location: Main Hall ♠ Interaction: Anders
Dorian's attention flipped to Anders when he registered the sound of a book closing, dark brows furrowing down as he met his friend's eyes. It was still a strange concept to have people who gave him their full attention, still odd to call more people than just Dee friends. The novelty of it all hadn't quite worn off; he still took note of who gave him their full attention. The fact that it was Anders paying so much attention to him this time had the additional effect of inspiring this fluttery feeling in his gut, but that? That he wasn't going to dignify with an analysis.

"Of course it's nice to see you," Dorian responded with an impatient tone like it was an established fact of the universe, one hand lifting to wave dismissively. The list of people he could tolerate was less than a couple dozen. The list of people he would willingly approach and initiate conversation with? He could count them off on the fingers of one hand. He was sitting here, completely of his own volition, and he wasn't dropping sarcastic comments left and right. Wasn't that a testament as to how much Dorian appreciated Anders? Hm. Another thing worth pondering. Later, though. Anders' grin as he brought up the prospect of new books in the library brought a soft smile to Dorian's face, his eyes slowly dragging back out towards the crowd.

"My summer was sadly absent of tragedy. And fathers, actually," he responded to the direct question, idly reflecting on how similar their relationships to their home life was. Rich families, opposed their family's normal elements, generally bad relationships with their fathers. Huh. "I went home with my sister. Spent the summer in Phoenix, doing interesting things for once. Museum trips, hiking excursions. Jess even let me tear apart her car, which, wow, I would not have trusted me that much." He rolled his right sleeve up to the shoulder with quick, precise movements, so he could show Anders the stark tank top tan line there. After a second, he quietly admitted, "It was nice to spent the summer outside, for once."


 
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DELANEY - THE POSITIVE INFLUENCE
Location: Main Hall ♣ Bothering: Sixten (@kelsen)
Sixten's sarcastic response, without even a glance up in her direction, inspired a strange sense of relief in Dee, as odd as that sounded. Her home life was hectic enough. Returning to school to find that everything and everyone had changed there, too, would just be too much. Stable was good. Lack of change was good. Comforting, even. So, Dee's grin widened, instead of fading like one might expect. Her first instinct was to lean over and bump his shoulder with her own, but she curbed that impulse before she'd gotten halfway through the movement. Six didn't seem like the type who would appreciate her tactile tendencies. She made the extra effort to restrain her touchy feely-ness around him, same as she tried to do when around Dorian.

Sure, Six wasn't her friend, exactly, but he was a worth opponent and he'd earned that much respect at least. Sure, he had something of a point about the pointlessness of pretending to care just for the duration of the mixer. Social people, such as herself, might enjoy something like this, but Six tolerated other people at very best. Was she one of those people? Maybe. It was hard to tell, what with all the sarcasm, but she'd like to think there was some level fondness in their rivalry. Still, she would only admit that he had a point or that she was even remotely fond of Six under pain of death.

"You say that like I can put my nose somewhere else," she joked, settling for bouncing once in her seated position instead of the shoulder bump she'd nearly gone for. "Well, I could go bug new people, I suppose, since I actually care about meeting new people and making new friends, but...who would take my place in completely wrecking all your attempts to read? Speaking of, what are you even reading?" she asked, leaning over again, this time to try and see the book in his hands. It didn't look too familiar, which was kind of surprising. "Is that yours or did you sneak that from the library?"



 
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Evie - The Modern Medic

26 | Female | Knights Templar Medic | Chaotic Good
"Counting all the assholes in the room​..."
  • Full name:
    Hillevi Hansen

    Significance of Name:
    Hillevi means "safe in battle" and Hansen means "son of Hans"

    Nicknames:
    Evie, Eve, Hillie (if you want to get smacked)

    Birth:
    January 3rd, 2044, in Portland, Oregon

    Species:
    Human

    Speaks:
    English, Swedish, French

    Family:
    Annette Ronning - mother
    Charles Hansen - father - Knight Templar, deceased
    No spouse or children
  • Evie stands a bit taller than average, built slim without much obvious muscle, her pretty blond hair reaching her back when its down though she often keeps it neatly twisted up into a bun or a braid. Her makeup, when she bothers, is light and neat, complimenting her features without trying to cover them. Those fairly normal traits tend to starkly contrast her colorful tattoos and the scars dotting her hands and the calluses on her fingers and her interesting personality, so it's easy to consider her someone worth staring at.

    She tends to slouch when she sits, though she hardly ever uses a chair in the intended fashion due to her penchant for unusual sitting positions. Her face is easy to read, but that doesn't mean her heart is on her sleeve. She also gestures very little while she speaks, arms usually crossed over her chest or hands in her pockets. Her clothes are chosen for comfort and utility rather than style, but she has a knack for looking good and well coordinated anyways.

    Hair:
    Blonde and straight; long, but always bound up into a bun or braid to keep it out of her face

    Eyes:
    Blue; Mixed stormy gray-blue, with the base color being blue and the gray streaked across her iris from edge to pupil

    Identifying Features:
    Many scars, from little ones easily explained by her violent work to larger ones with darker stories; Gun tattoo on leg, Fenrir emblem in the small of her back, and here is tattoo ref one and tattoo ref two and tattoo ref three

    Height:
    5'6" (168 cm)

    Weight:
    137 lbs (62 kg)

    Equipment:
    Uses an assault rifle with a scope she uses with deadly efficiency - when she's not trying to keep her fellow knights alive
    Wears light armor in modern style, pictured here, with the addition of the Templar insignia on the chest plate

    Magic:
    Healing - Evie's skills are primarily focused on healing and repairing injuries, though she only has a limited capacity for this. She backs up her healing magic with a solid knowledge of anatomy and medical procedure.
  • Personality:
    Evie usually makes a positive first impression, regardless of the situation, as she's quite polite and charming no matter what sort of mood she's in or what she's doing. She's a good listener but also good at holding up her end of a conversation, passionate if you can find the right topic, and she's got a darkly sarcastic and self-deprecating sense of humor that she pulls off quite well even given how dark it tends to be. She's never shy and she never lies, though she's not exactly honest and she's certainly not open. Still, she comes off as polite and innocent enough that it's a shock to many she converses with when she mentions her darker interests or brings up a violent/racy/illegal/morally questionable story from her crazy teenage years. Her commanding officers almost always think well of her; she's tenacious and determined, never one to back down in the face of difficulty and excellent at time management, though most people don't get to witness these traits in battle.

    Inwardly, she's a skeptic and a cynic who struggles to put faith in other people. She's terrified of losing her temper and especially terrified of losing control, yet at the same time manages to be irritable and rash. The cycle of self-degradation that creates is a vicious one, though she's struggled to break it ever since she left her mother's care at the tender age of sixteen.

    Traits:
    + Tenacious
    + Passionate
    + Blunt
    + Cunning
    + Charismatic
    - Irritable
    - Obstinate
    - Apathetic
    - Callous
    - Reckless

    Personality Type:
    ENTJ
"Well​, I'm definitely not alone​, I'm not alone​."


 
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This is for an Eragon roleplay I'm doing with a friend~ c: Screenshots are easier than dealing with Discord's character limit.

THE HALFBREED
"but my peace has always depended​"


"You had it right the first time," Dorian muttered with a soft snort. It was a dark noise, one that spoke of far too much prior experience with the more magically inclined half of his heritage, all of it negative. Too many years spent trying to earn his place amongst his father's people and failing for him to have a positive opinion of them. Too many years trying to hide amongst his mother's people for him and failing for him to have a positive opinion of them, either. That left Dorian, alone and angry, in the cracks in between. "They aren't that impressive. They are powerful, but their power is only rivaled by their apathy. And their ego."

He opted not to respond to Vin's comment the time he'd spent in the cell. He was meant to spent quite a few more days in here, after all, considering what he'd done to get in here, and that subject was one he'd still rather avoid.

The offer of healing took Dorian by surprise, however, eyes shifting to the human with a suspicious glint to them. His eyes narrowed while he stared Vin down. Was the human serious? Was the human even capable of magic? Apparently so, Dorian was forced to conclude after determining that the human looked far too open and honest to be lying, though he was still far from easing his suspicion. Healing had hardly been on his list of priorities when he'd been tossed in this cell to rot, and it continued to be low on his list with his waning strength. Even his naturally enhanced body could only starve for so long.

"Fine. Heal me, if you wish," the halfbreed finally snapped with an impatient wave of his hand. "Most were inflicted by the guards. Most were well earned, as I let very few of the guards walk away without their fair share of injuries to tend. Does that dissuade you at all, human?"

"on all the ashes in my wake...​"

 
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AESON - A MODERN MAGE

28 | Male | Bisexual | Neutral Good
"rate yourself and rake yourself,
take all the courage you have left​"
  • "I quite like being around people, actually. I've just got to research how to interact with them in an unprofessional environment."

    Name:
    Aeson Henry Gallagher

    Nickname(s):
    Typically just goes by Aeson

    Date of Birth:
    September 21st; Virgo

    Place of Birth:
    Naas, Ireland

    Occupation:
    Tattoo Artist
  • Description:
    If one has a bias against tattoos or piercings, Aeson is certainly an intimidating or infuriating individual, what with the piercings in his face and ears and the tattoos that cover his arms and chest and back. If not, however, he's fairly normal. Taller than average but not enough to draw attention, lean and lanky but in the kind of shape that shows how well he takes care of himself, black rimmed glasses that are a near constant presence on his face but not unusual these days. The only really distinguishing characteristic he has (other than the tattoos and the piercings, of course) is his unfortunate case of resting bitch face. He tends to scowl at the best of times, and that is helped none by his generally stoic personality.

    Aeson tends to stand, sit, and walk with excellent posture, head tilted down, and tends to keep his hands folded or in his pockets. His tells are subtle, for the most part. Gentle and noiseless tapping on his leg or a nearby surface when he's irritated, scowling and brow furrowing when he's concentrating or working, etc. Occasionally you'll see him try to make a gesture while he speaks, but those are usually cut off before they really get started.

    Blacks, blues and reds are the colors he tends to go for when picking out clothing. His favorite shirt pattern is stripes and his favorite shirt styles are button ups and three quarter sleeves, though it's not uncommon to see him in the nerdy or sarcastic graphic tee shirts his brother likes to give him. He tends to layer, usually with an undershirt of come sort and a button up overshirt, though he'll add a jacket on particularly cold days, and it's rare to see him in pants that aren't jeans. His shoes are typically sneakers, converse, or - oddly enough - well made and well worn hiking boots. In general, his clothes are neat, clean, and well maintained, same as the man himself.

    Hair:
    Dark brown; straight in texture, kept short, well trimmed, and usually slicked back in a neat fashion

    Eyes:
    Pale blue with sectoral heterochromia; left eye has a patch of golden brown at the top of his iris

    Identifying Features:
    ~ No noteworthy scars
    ~ this from neck down to base of his spine
    ~ this on right forearm
    ~ this covering left arm
    ~ this on chest with his and his brother's names
    ~ this over his left ribs
    ~ this on neck
    ~ Numerous other, smaller tattoos dotting his skin from ankles to jaw
    ~ Two sub-dermals in left cheek
    ~ Stud in left nostril, ring in right nostril
    ~ 1/2 inch gauge in each earlobe, stud in both upper lobes, two studs in helix of left ear
    ~ Old snakebite holes in lower lip

    Height:
    6'0

    Weight:
    163 lbs

    Body Frame:
    Long and lanky like a beanpole

    Skin Tone:
    Fair in tone, pale in color
  • Personality:
    First impressions of Aeson are quite the mixed bag. At work, he's professional, dedicated, considerate, and especially good at keeping up a conversation with someone in his chair; in any other social situation, he turns into an awkward individual who's as bad at approaching people as he is at keeping up a conversation. Why, one might ask. Well, his workplace and his apartment are spaces that are his, with clearly defined rules of conduct. He knows what's acceptable and what's unacceptable, feels comfortable enough to establish what he'll take from a customer or from a visitor, and feels confident enough to enforce those boundaries. Outside of those personal spaces, however, rules and standards aren't dictated by what he's comfortable with, and that leaves him nervous and unsure.

    His outer personality is shy but dedicated. He tends to come off as a know-it-all or even an asshole as his impulses to correct wrong information he overhears - even in the conversations of complete strangers - tend to be stronger than his social anxiety. He's also got a witty and dry sense of humor, understated and occasionally dark; he's also one of those that is terrible at making his sarcastic comments obvious and that frequently leads to misunderstandings.

    His inner personality is surprisingly extroverted and decidedly realistic. He doesn't lie to himself or to others, prefers to think through things before he acts, and drives his dedication with a strong sense of duty and a preference for order and neatness. Being an extrovert with a low self-esteem fueled by his social inadequacy, Aeson's also caught in something of a self-destructive cycle he's struggled with since he was far too young to have such heavy concerns.

    Traits:
    Diligent (+) | works probably too much; puts intense focus into everything he does, right down to the simplest of things; commits 100% to everything with little to no exceptions
    Extroverted (+) | genuinely enjoys being around people; good listener, even if he's crap at talking or being conversational, and especially likes when he doesn't feel pressured to respond and can just listen
    Realistic (=) | assumes nothing about people or situations; if asked the infamous "glass half full or half empty" question, Aeson would politely ask what is in it
    Analytical (=) | good at assessing situations and breaking them down into neat little solvable pieces; bad at figuring out illogical problems and situations and has trouble connecting with his emotions because of this
    Stoic (-) | bad expressing or showing emotion, even positive ones; naturally secretive and private about pretty much anything; difficult to get to know because of this; doesn't complain much, though
    Critical (-) | hyper-aware of his own mistakes and highly critical of them; aware of the mistakes of others and can/will comment on them, though he tends to be more forgiving with others; shows affection by correcting behavior

    Likes:
    People Tea, particularly mint tea Sunsets Rain Video games Sci-fi media Star Trek, particularly Spock and the original series Confident people His work Drawing, particularly people Sarcasm

    Dislikes:
    Boasting Carbonated beverages Being underestimated Real violence Games that lack single player campaigns Messiness Being underground People touching or taking his glasses Cocky people Public speaking

    Ambitions:
    Financial stability Settle down with someone nice Improve at his work Go to space

    Fears:
    Failing others, or himself Being buried alive Water he can't see the bottom of Losing someone he's close to

    Philosophy:
    “The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.”
    ~William Arthur Ward
  • Aeson's first distinct memory was from when he was nearly four years old. The details are fuzzy and indistinct, as many first memories are, but what he does remember is sitting in a car seat with his two year old little brother Oran in the seat beside him and a dark haired lady he would later assume was his mother in the front seat. The three of them were singing a song together, Oran bouncing happily in his seat. The dark haired lady was far quieter than the children, a rough note to her voice, and the thing he distinctly recalls from the memory is the soft, sad look in her pale eyes when she turns to look back at him. The distinct impression of regret he got from that expression would carry with him into adulthood.

    He's nearly a teenager by the time he puzzles out that the memory was right before he and Oran got dropped off at the home.

    Oran, being only two, was placed into the foster care system and eventually adopted. Aeson, being old enough to start schooling, stayed at the St Brigids Orphanage in Dublin. It wasn't a bad childhood or anything of the like, but the poor kid simply didn't fit the place very well. He was an awkward, artistic kid who grew into an awkward, artistic teenager and never quite got included in activities enough to develop real social skills, so he developed a deep appreciation for people who tolerated his presence, his talent for drawing, and a low self-esteem. The home had a strong Catholic lean, as well, and Aeson never quite bought into it. His lack of faith was yet another thing to distance him from the staff and the other children. Not to mention his magic, which started developing as he neared his teenage years. It was a struggle to keep that under control and a secret with such little privacy, forcing the development of his more secretive tendencies and worsening his social skills.

    He was sixteen when his brother reached out for the first time, contacting him via letter. Aeson wrote back, of course, and the two struck up a real correspondence and eventually saw one another for the first time since they'd been given up. They'd maintain a strong relationship from then to the current day.

    At age eighteen, Aeson moved out of the orphanage, accepting the tentative offer from Oran's adoptive parents to live in their basement. It was nice to be closer to his brother, yes, but the arrangement was fairly awkward for both Oran's parents and Aeson. The year he spent there was good for Aeson and Oran, the pair bonding over their magic (as Oran eventually confided that he had the gift as well) and their mutual love for sci-fi. Oran even inspired Aeson's love for old re-runs of Star Trek and got him into video games during that time. Still, Aeson moved out as soon as he'd saved enough money from the dead-end jobs he worked to move to the United States. Specifically, California. He found the allure of Hollywood to be too much; it wasn't exactly as he pictured, when he finally got there, but he managed to scrape by for another year or so.

    Aeson was nearly twenty one when he was hired to paint the windows of a local shop that just so happened to be across the street from a tattoo parlor. One of the artists that worked there noticed his work and the style was interesting enough that she sought him out; he eventually proved himself good enough to get a position as her apprentice. Three years later, he had amassed an impressive collection of ink, finally mastered the art of shapeshifting...and become a tattoo artist in his own right.

    It's been four years since that milestone, and Aeson is doing well for himself. He's learned the tricks to imbuing the ink he does with protective spells, he rents a neat little apartment in the LA area, and he still speaks with Oran on a weekly basis. He even flies out to Ireland for holidays.
  • Druids:
    A shamanistic and high ranking magic user in ancient Celtic cultures. Druids were religious leaders, guides, lorekeepers, medical professionals, and even legal authorities.

    Aeson, specifically, is descended from the Tuatha Dé Danann who were a supernatural and god-like race present in Irish mythology. This lineage grants him his natural abilities and competency with nature-based magic, as an ordinary human who decides to study druidry take years or even decades of dedicated practice to reach his level of proficiency.

    Capabilities:
    Plant empathy and manipulation Wards, protection spells Healing Limited shapeshifting

    Drawbacks:
    Energy based Nature based Limited in use

    How it Works:
    Aeson's magic is energy based, meaning what he can cast and how powerfully he can cast it is limited to how much energy he has. Casting while tired will cause spells to fail, pushing his personal limits can knock him out. Energy drinks and caffeine in general will raise his energy level, but it's basically fake energy and casting heavily while hyper will leave him far more drained than usual when the caffeine wears off.

    As his abilities are nature based, he amount of energy he can put into a spell is limited while indoors, while standing on concrete or asphalt, or while wearing shoes
    He can heal physical injuries, create wards, and power simple sigils while in such a state, with all of those abilities gaining strength if he's able to "connect to nature" though he's still limited by his own stamina
    He can only shapeshift into one form: a grey wolf
    The shapeshifting process is quite painful as well as energy draining, taking far longer while his abilities are limited and going surprisingly quickly if he's at full strength​
    Maintaining the shifted form requires no energy upkeep, however, so he could arguably stay as a wolf for as long as he wanted​
    He's not particularly good with the plant aspects of the druid's abilities, though he can channel some of his energy into plants to heal them or liven up their day
    Maybe, just maybe, if he's deep in the woods with no shoes and just had the best nap of his life and brought the full weight of his impressive concentration to bear, he might be able to turn a single leaf on a vine, and even then it's still a maybe​
  • ~ Faceclaim is Jimmy Q
    ~ Color code is #00FFFF
    ~ Nearsighted; prefers to wear his glasses (reference pic) usually though he does have contacts
    ~ The cello is his favorite instrument and one he can actually play, not that he often does so in front of other people
    ~ Speaks Irish fluently, has a decent understanding of Latin
    ~ His brother once jokingly set his phone's ringtone to The Baddest by Krispy Kreme and he's been unable to work up the will to change it, instead keeping it on silent whenever he's around Oran
    ~ Lyrics around text are from Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

"and waste it on fixing all the problems​
that you made in your own head​"

Playlist: One Two Three Four
 
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Slava - The Bogatyr

34 | Male | Knight's Templar | Lawful Neutral

  • Full name:
    Vladislav Miloslavich

    Significance of Name:
    Vladislav means "to own glory" and Miloslavich means "son of Miloslav"

    Nicknames:
    Slava, Vladik, Law (given to him by Renaud)

    Birth:
    1206 AD in Toropets, of the Principality of Toropets

    Death:
    1240 AD in Kolomya, of the Principality of Halych

    Species:
    Human

    Speaks:
    Old East Slavic, French, Latin

    Family:
    Miloslav Miloslavich - father - boyar under Mstislav the Bold who died in 1228
    Anna Ganzavich - mother - daughter of another boyar, married Miloslav in 1205, died in 1241
    No spouse or children

    Affiliates:
    Sir Renaud de Vichiers - a close friend he made during his time among the Templars - Grand Master of the Knights Templar from 1250 to 1256
    Daniel of Galicia - the prince he declared his service to and who sealed him away after some years spent fighting the Mongols - Grand Prince of Kiev from 1240 to 1264
  • Slava is a bit short by modern standards and certainly unused to being regarded as such, but his broad shoulders and well muscled frame still carry the same intimidation factor they did all those centuries ago. His hair, beard, and armor are all neat and well kept, the effort he puts into maintaining an excellent image obvious in the soft shine of the metal pieces of his armor set.

    The best word to describe his tells would be subtle; he stands with excellent posture and tends to keep his hands neatly folded behind his back, he sits with similarly excellent posture and tends to keep his hands in his lap. He doesn't gesture much, and event then only when necessary. It'll be a long time before he settles on what sort of modern clothes he can tolerate wearing in the little off time he'll get while trying to save the world, but he'll almost certainly prefer soft fabrics and warm reds.

    Hair:
    Dark brown; straight and thick, kept cropped short enough not to interfere with helmet wearing

    Eyes:
    Brown; smooth and even across his irises, roughly the color of melted chocolate

    Identifying Features:
    A series of scars from a nasty set of claws raking across his right shoulder, slashing down towards his chest
    A short but gnarled battle scar just under his right armpit from an attempted stab wound; the injury nearly killed him and did not heal well
    Numerous scars dotting his hands and forearms, from practice with blades or cooking or what have you
    A few pale brown birthmarks on his lower back, all with random shapes

    Height:
    5'8" (174 cm)

    Weight:
    157 lbs (71.2 kg)

    Equipment:
    Wields a saber and a kite shield; the saber is somewhat longer than typical and the shield is somewhat smaller than typical
    Wears plate, pictured here, made of durable steel and dutifully re-enchanted whenever the effect wears off

    Magic:
    Steel - Slava is particularly adept at enchanting his armor and his shield to be stronger and tougher, making him a small but sturdy tank on the battlefield and the man you want to hide behind in the event of a dragon attack. Spells: Steel Enchanting, Steel Shield
  • Traits:
    Dependable (+) | Will not break his promises even under pain of death; ten minutes early for literally everything; probably keeps a secret and weirdly specific written schedule somewhere
    Patient (+) | Can and will do the same task several dozen times in a row; finds waiting or instructing someone on something they simply do not understand draining instead of irritating; the temperature of his temper is in the negatives but there is no doubt he has one
    Stoic (=) | Serious almost all the time; refuses to show or express too much of his feelings, negative or positive; take him at his word when he says things because you probably won't be able to read it in his face
    Morally questionable (=) | Makes decisions based on his code, the law, what is best for his people, what is best for him, and then what is morally correct in that order; if it's legal and good for the Templars but not morally correct, he gonna do it; not the person to go to for a "good guy" opinion
    Insensitive (-) | Bad at feelings, whether it's his own or dealing with other people's; can and will say rude things and not understand why it was rude
    Critical (-) | Hard on himself; somewhat less hard on other people; tends to be more critical of the people he cares about because that's how he shows his affection

    Personality Type:
    ISTJ - The Disciplined Soldier, The Logistician, The Duty Fulfiller, The Reliable Realist, The Responsible Accountant, The Examiner, The Rule Follower
  • Slava was born in the late summer of 1206 AD, considered a blessing by both of his parents. His father was a boyar, roughly equivalent to a noble and a trusted adviser; his mother was the daughter of another boyar and a woman of influence in her own right. With his father off fighting alongside the prince and a complete lack of siblings, his mother was a strong influence in his childhood and luckily a positive one. His childhood was a decent one overall, filled with admiration for his father, education, and martial training, but also much love and support from his mother. He was sixteen when he finally elected to leave home and find his own glories.

    France caught his interest enough that he elected to stay. It was mere months later that he fell in with the Knights Templar, and only weeks after he began studying magic with the order that he met Renaud. Renaud was a bright individual, as sociable as he was intelligent, and he quickly took a liking to the quiet but observant Slava. The pair hit it off famously enough that they'd be friends until Slava left France in 1229 AD, seven years after he left home, after hearing news of his father's death. From there, he pledged his service to Daniel of Galicia and loyally served the invasion of the Golden Horde. He spent years fighting off the Mongols and their fiendish beasts, earning his mastery of battle magic and experience by valiantly fighting them in actual combat.

    They were fighting a losing battle, however, and by 1240 AD, Daniel of Galicia had determined the only real option was surrender. He wouldn't stand for leaving the Mongols in power, however; he collected a small number of his greatest knights, drummed up deaths for the lot of them, and buried them all in places across his domain. Slava was one of them.

    [Spoili]
    1246 AD, years after he'd received the letter from Law's mother that he had passed, Renaud finally worked up the time and willpower to travel east in an attempt to discover his friend's real fate. The crypt took no small amount of investigation to find; Law's mother had passed not too long after her son, too heartbroken by loss to continue on, and was unable to show him to it. It was buried in a small and otherwise nondescript cave south of Halych. Finding it without a guide was difficult, but but find it he did, and there he went.

    Finally laying eyes on his friend's coffin, deep in the cave and elegantly carved from stone, was like a punch to the gut. Law had no one to tend to this place now, no one to visit anymore, no one who could care. Just Renaud. So he willed himself to say something, anything, carefully placing a hand on the top of his friend's coffin in an attempt to prepare himself. What he felt in the stone shocked him enough that he took a few steps back. Magic, thrumming through the stone like he'd never felt it before. Powerful magic. Powerful enough that Renaud made a choked noise and let curiosity win over his reservations about cracking open a man's grave, pushing at the coffin's lid.

    He pushed until it shifted enough that he could see - and sure enough, he could see his friend inside it. Not bones, but flesh. Complete and whole, completely undamaged by the passage of time. His armor was in fine condition, arms placed in an X over his chest with his saber pressed into one hand and shield strapped to the other. He had the most serene expression on his face; he could be sleeping, almost. Sleeping, almost, if it wasn't for the bubble of magic that encapsulated him. It was an enchantment the likes of which Renaud had never beheld in person before. He'd seen mentions of such powerful magic in old texts, heard references to such things from other Templars, but this...this was real. Renaud instinctively reached out to touch the bubble, finding that the magic felt...felt solid. Cold and solid, like stone or steel.

    Renaud didn't attempt to break the spell, too afraid of inadvertently killing Law to even try, but he sealed the coffin back up and brought the knowledge of the burial place back to the Templar Order. Useless information, then, but it was still archived with the rest, to be utilized at a later date...[/spoili]
 
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Slava - The Bogatyr

Mood: Ready
Trees flashed past underneath the helicopter, the panel of sensors and dials on the cockpit's instrument panel moving every bit as much as the landscape beneath. Slava's trained eyes alternated between the two, searching for irregularities in the readings or the color of the landscape underneath the massive machine. It'd been months and he still hadn't the faintest idea of how the thing worked (though Sebastian had tried to explain on a number of occasions, using words like "rotor" and "airfoil" that Slava remembered but didn't understand) but to say he was less off-put by it was an incredible understatement. The wind it kicked up, the sound of its blades cutting the air above it, the vibration that settled into his very bones while he sat in one, it was all normal. Normal enough he'd even asked Sebastian to show him how he could help fly it, seeing as he was usually selected as the unfortunate to sit in the co-pilot's seat anyways. It was a good seat for actually looking for the woman they were tasked with finding. Plus, he never minded Sebastian's noise. That was a rare gift the squad took use of as much as possible.

Co-pilot or not, he still wore his old armor, modified so he could sit a little more comfortably. Even with the gouges ruining the elegantly crafted left shoulder plate.

Slava hummed thoughtfully along to Bastian's commentary, only offering up a few words when he felt a question needed to be answered or a hypothesis should be interjected. His grasp of English was tenuous at best. Stronger than most of the squad would expect given how little he spoke, however, but his knowledge was mostly due to Sebastian's help. And rambling. Sebastian was a conversationalist with a large vocabulary; listening to him talk was helpful. He was always a little distracted when they flew on missions like this, though, focus poured into the task at hand rather than trying to interpret Sebastian's speech.

The near punch to the face he narrowly avoided was enough to grab Slava's full attention, though. Along with one of the words that followed. "Chort"...Hard to believe they still existed, all these centuries later. Dangerous nuisances. Some vague memory of his mother finding one in their larder when he was but a boy came to mind, but he didn't indulge in remembering it. Good thing, too, because the ugly creature lit up in flame only moments later.

Slava spent all of three seconds contemplating how to proceed. Then, he took off the headset with its awkward bit that transmitted his voice, carefully setting it down before pulling his saber and shield from behind his seat. Tightening the shield to his arm was easy, some modern thing called "velcro" replacing the leather straps he used to use. His blade and its sheath was as easy to attach to his belt, if a bit awkward in the tight space of the cockpit. Drawing the blade was...inefficient, while he was still so far above his foe. Time to close the distance. So, he took a single long breath, released it, opened the door to the cockpit, and promptly threw himself out of it.

Landing was hard from such a height, of course, but the magic running through the steel armor he'd felt a connection to since he was barely a man meant his armor absorbed most of the shock and took it well. The chort slowed, its hooves biting into the earth while it struggled to stop, unsure what to do with this new obstacle between it and prey, but Slava stared it down with a tight smile and a dangerous glint in his eyes. A few words in his mother tongue was enough to get the beast to squeal with rage and renew its charge. Slava brought his shield up at the last possible moment, all the force behind the chort's charge bouncing it off the enchanted object and off to the side. Slava took the moment, while it was struggling to get back up, to draw his saber.




Evie - The Modern Medic

Mood: Highly concerned
It was...well, a pretty normal morning for Evie. Wake up disconcertingly early, work out for a concerning amount of time, drink way too much coffee and eat muffins all through breakfast, load up in the chopper with the rest of the group, then end up falling asleep to the pleasant sound of Sebastian's voice and the vibration of the helicopter while the group went off on another excursion to France to find Henrietta and her fabled blade. Sure, falling asleep while she was on a mission wasn't exactly the most professional of decisions, but the Templars were mostly continuing the search for show, anyways. There were so few of the old school knights left, fewer with real magical power, and marking down the blade of Jeanne d'Arc and the plague witch that carried it as MIA really didn't suit the leadership, so grunts like her, like her team, got to do this bullshit. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Evie didn't mind the company and definitely didn't mind catching up on sleep, but it was so hard to believe they'd find anything besides a corpse at this point. A corpse with a broken sword, too, if their luck these last few months held out.

Depressing way to think about it, sure. She never called herself an optimist.

The louder-than-usual "hell" echoed over the radio channel loud enough to disturb her sleep. She wasn't a heavy sleeper, after all, just practiced at falling asleep with normal people noise. That...That was not normal people noise. Pretty blue eyes snapped open and she was ready to go immediately. One of the benefits of having both self-discipline and a terrible sleep schedule? She'd trained herself to go from dead asleep to fully awake in a couple of seconds. That was why she got away with sleeping on the helicopter rides. In the next few moments after that, she realized a few things: one, chorts were unpleasant to look at; two, the Slav she'd first met all those months ago in Russia was at least seven times crazier than she'd anticipated; and three, Henrietta was still alive.

The rest of the squad rappelled out of the helicopter with all the military neatness in the world while Evie got up, yanking her rifle from its hooks and uncapping the scope with efficiency and brutality. She didn't join the rest on the ground, fanning out but hesitant to approach the battle waging below. No, she put her rifle to her shoulder and leaned out of the helicopter at a damn near dangerous angle. The rifle went off twice. Only one shot hit, but it was a solid impact to the chort's shoulder. Some might call that a fine shot, given she was standing on a moving platform and shooting at a moving target, but all Evie called it was a "near miss", her head filled with sarcasm of the abrasive kind directed mostly at herself.

Her expression was all business as she hooked the rifle's strap around her shoulder and repelled down, leaving her helmet in the helicopter. As soon as her feet touched earth, she was off and moving towards Slava and what had to be Henrietta.
 
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VvMhTTK.png
Silvanus ducked out of the antiques shop with an attractive smile and a wave to its proprietor, pausing outside the door to carefully tuck the elaborate ship in a bottle he'd purchased in his bag among the rest of the items he'd bought that day. The ship in a bottle was for his mother, who adored such intricate things. Two of the three other purchases were for his father. One antique metal ashtray decorated with elegant floral designs, as his father still adamantly refused to give up his cigars, and the day's newspaper for the town he was vacationing in this time. His father was a journalist, after all, and found reading papers from the various places Sy visited in his travels to be absolutely fascinating. The third and final item was a tee shirt for himself to wear when away from the prying eyes of the general public, the shirt soft and black and two sizes too big for him. It was even marked with the insignia of one of his favorite American bands.

Sy adjusted the bag's strap after he was satisfied with the state of its contents, heading down the sidewalk with a lightness to his gait. He was two days into a two week vacation. He'd finished his gift shopping already. Life was treating him well, for the moment.

The stares he received as he walked? Well, those only lifted his mood further. It had been months since he'd been able to dress as he liked, let alone put his piercings in for any time longer than necessary to keep them open. Today, however, he was dressed to the fucking nines in a trim dark gray suit, a loop of metal hanging from his nose and ruby studs in both of his ears. He'd even gone so far as to color his hair in anticipation of this vacation, the sharp contrast of his newly silver mane with the dark brown of his thick yet well kept beard meant to draw attention. There were also the tattoos across the knuckles of both his hands, or the silver and certainly expensive cufflinks keeping his sleeves together, but neither of those drew near as much attention as the man himself. He looked good, by his definition. He seemed himself worthy of a second glance, worthy of a stare or a glare, and he got enough of them that he was satisfied. Every one he received was deeply gratifying in this significant fashion he wouldn't be able to explain even if pressed.

Regardless, when he paused outside a quaint little seafood restaurant long enough for his stomach to rumble softly at the smell, Sy was in a fairly good mood. Good enough of a mood that he went into the restaurant and requested a table instead of heading directly back to his hotel for his meal. The table he requested - and got, luckily - was positioned so he could sit with a good view of the front entrance along with as many tables as possible. Good mood or no, he'd spent far too many years watching for tails or hitmen to sit without considering such things, like a "normal person" did. He flirted with the server who attended to his section of the restaurant, reveling in the soft shock and then slight interest he received as a reaction; he also checked the Colt tucked into his reasonably discreet side holster twice during his meal.

Sitting back with a soft noise of contentment, Sy eyed his empty plate for a moment before glancing up. His intention had been to catch his server's eye, but instead he caught sight of something far more important and far more deadly: a delicate glass vial, filled with white, dropping from a man's fingers and shattering upon hitting the floor. Sy's eyes squeezed shut a moment later after he was hit with the hard realization that he was about to become one of the BOWs he fought. It wasn't supposed to happen like this... he thought, anger and hopelessness crashing into him like waves. Would he even get the personal touch of some poor grunt taking him out with blades or bullets, or would this event go so wrong so fast that they'd just drop something high yield to wipe out any trace of the infection and call it done? He was meant to retire to the Caribbean, for fuck's sake, with some lovely individual with a lovelier posterior and a high tolerance for his shit. Not this. Not like this.

Five, then ten seconds passed while Sy absorbed himself in his thoughts. Panic had gripped the restaurant's occupants even as they coughed deep and wet as the bioweapon coursed through their systems. Sy listened to it all, distantly like he was hearing it through water, too wrapped up in despair to even think logically until he was hit with another realization. He wasn't coughing. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was immunity granted by his work in some freaky fashion, maybe it was divine intervention or something equally crazy, maybe he was just fucking lucky. No matter the cause, Sy didn't seem to be infected.

His eyes blinked open, confirming the theory. He was one of two people in the entire restaurant that wasn't coughing; the rest were on the floor or pressed against something solid and coughing like they were trying to force their lungs out of their chests. As despair eased its iron grip on his mental faculties, Sy recalled he'd read papers about fungi that caused similar symptoms. Said papers also mentioned rapid transformation.

Best to get moving.

Sy was up and on his feet with gun in hand in moments, the flip from panicked civilian to collected agent taking an alarmingly short amount of time. It was a spur of the moment decision to grab the other seemingly immune man before he got the fuck out.

"I do not care who you are or why you are here," Sy said after drawing even with the stranger, voice loud enough to be heard over the commotion surrounding them and accented with...something. French, maybe? It wasn't a good moment to contemplate such a trivial thing. He made sure to make eye contact when he finished his words, speaking faster with the urgency of the situation. "You need to come with me now. We do not want to be here when these begin to transform."

 
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GABE - AN ATYPICAL BREED
BASICS:
Cortland Gabriel Emsworth
(KAWT-luhnd GAH-bree-ul Ehms-WORTH)
"For the sake of my dignity, please just call me Gabe."
Gabe, Cort, Emmie

Species:
Werewolf, yet to transform

Born:
Born Aug 13th, 1996; 20 years old; Leo

Sexuality:
Pansexual

Alignment:
Neutral Good

Faceclaim:
Francisco Lachowski

Playlist: One Two Three Four
"because we're gonna be legends, gonna get their attention,"
Nationality:
Born in the US; ethnically 50% Brazilian, 50% mixed

Languages:
(F) English; (F) Portuguese; (P) Spanish

Allied:
None, yet

Powers & Ability:
~ Has yet to transform, and lacks the typical werewolf repertoire of abilities
~ Does have unusually high agility and hand-eye coordination for a human, however

Appearance:
Gabe stands at a tall 6'2" (when he isn't slouching) and weights in at around 182 lbs. The potential to intimidate others that one might expect with his height and build is typically negated by his charming disposition and the obvious effort he puts into his appearance, however. His hair is rarely without some kind of gel or holding spray, usually styled in that "messy like he's not trying but totally is" way; his clothes are neat and well taken care of and always well color coordinated, even if his taste in clothing tends toward the eccentric at the best of times. His eyes are a soft brown, spattered with enough green and gold that one could almost call them hazel, and tend to light up well when paired with one of his winning smiles. There's also a dimple in his right cheek, only revealed when he's in an excellent mood or in the midst of a bout of laughter.

Personality & Brief Background:
Confidence is easily one of Gabe's most easily noticeable traits. He's the sort who can spark up a conversation with most anyone, the sort who's utterly unafraid of declaring an opinion or drawing attention...One might even say that he craves the attention his confidence tends to net him. This confidence stems from his fairly mobile childhood. Moving every year or three, along with spending his summer holidays with his mother's family in Brazil, shaped him into someone who is very good at meeting new people and making friends of them, but also someone who's terrible at maintaining the relationships he develops. He tends to keep others at arms length, with the prospect of letting someone else in closer than that far more daunting than desirable, but he also has an awful habit of allowing relationships to fall to the wayside if he doesn't see the other person on a regular basis. The anger issues he's been struggling with since he was a boy (dealt with through avoiding conflict and a daily routine of meditation) help exactly none, given how afraid of his own snappy temper Gabe is. Still, he tries his best to be a kind, considerate, and productive member of society. He shares his food willingly; he takes his promises seriously; he takes defeat and failure in stride as best as he can. And, while he might rather spend any given weekend lazing around and playing video games with someone who's presence he enjoys, he'll drink a couple of energy drinks and crack down for those precious days of free time to get an essay done before its due date.

Essentially, Gabe is someone it's difficult to have a neutral opinion on. One tends to appreciate his friendly and tactile demeanor, cheery attitude, and off beat sense of humor, or one finds him cocky, annoyingly optimistic, and weird in some shape or form.

Aspirations & Regrets:
Gabe, deep beneath the layers of passion and charm he uses to protect his squishy inner self, doesn't have a purpose. He's been building his whole life to get to college and pursue art and fashion, make it a career and make it his lifestyle, but now that he's at that point, he's not entirely sure if that's what he wants any more and he's not entirely sure where that leaves him. Besides directionless and depressed, that is.

Other:
~ Has a small and timid-but-friendly cat that he adores named (despite all his attempts to encourage her to respond to something else) Booples
~ Is the type of person who can and will sing along to anything on the radio
~ Lyrics around text box are from Legendary by Welshly Arms

"
what we're doing here ain't just scary, it's about to be legendary."






fe436c87046c3dd99555c92462f27cd5.jpg

Playlist: One Two Three Four

BASICS:
Cortland Gabriel Emsworth
(KAWT-luhnd GAH-bree-ul Ehms-WORTH)
"For the sake of my dignity, please just call me Gabe."
Gabe, Cort, Emmie

Species:
Werewolf, yet to transform

Born:
Born Aug 13th, 1996; 20 years old; Leo

Sexuality:
Pansexual

Alignment:
Neutral Good

Faceclaim:
Francisco Lachowski



Nationality:
Born in the US; ethnically 50% Brazilian, 50% mixed

Languages:
(F) English; (F) Portuguese; (P) Spanish

Allied:
None, yet

Powers & Ability:
~ Has yet to transform, and lacks the typical werewolf repertoire of abilities
~ Does have unusually high agility and hand-eye coordination for a human, however

Appearance:
Gabe stands at a tall 6'2" (when he isn't slouching) and weights in at around 182 lbs. The potential to intimidate others that one might expect with his height and build is typically negated by his charming disposition and the obvious effort he puts into his appearance, however. His hair is rarely without some kind of gel or holding spray, usually styled in that "messy like he's not trying but totally is" way; his clothes are neat and well taken care of and always well color coordinated, even if his taste in clothing tends toward the eccentric at the best of times. His eyes are a soft brown, spattered with enough green and gold that one could almost call them hazel, and tend to light up well when paired with one of his winning smiles. There's also a dimple in his right cheek, only revealed when he's in an excellent mood or in the midst of a bout of laughter.

Personality & Brief Background:
Confidence is easily one of Gabe's most easily noticeable traits. He's the sort who can spark up a conversation with most anyone, the sort who's utterly unafraid of declaring an opinion or drawing attention...One might even say that he craves the attention his confidence tends to net him. This confidence stems from his fairly mobile childhood. Moving every year or three, along with spending his summer holidays with his mother's family in Brazil, shaped him into someone who is very good at meeting new people and making friends of them, but also someone who's terrible at maintaining the relationships he develops. He tends to keep others at arms length, with the prospect of letting someone else in closer than that far more daunting than desirable, but he also has an awful habit of allowing relationships to fall to the wayside if he doesn't see the other person on a regular basis. The anger issues he's been struggling with since he was a boy (dealt with through avoiding conflict and a daily routine of meditation) help exactly none, given how afraid of his own snappy temper Gabe is. Still, he tries his best to be a kind, considerate, and productive member of society. He shares his food willingly; he takes his promises seriously; he takes defeat and failure in stride as best as he can. And, while he might rather spend any given weekend lazing around and playing video games with someone who's presence he enjoys, he'll drink a couple of energy drinks and crack down for those precious days of free time to get an essay done before its due date.

Essentially, Gabe is someone it's difficult to have a neutral opinion on. One tends to appreciate his friendly and tactile demeanor, cheery attitude, and off beat sense of humor, or one finds him cocky, annoyingly optimistic, and weird in some shape or form.

Aspirations & Regrets:
Gabe, deep beneath the layers of passion and charm he uses to protect his squishy inner self, doesn't have a purpose. He's been building his whole life to get to college and pursue art and fashion, make it a career and make it his lifestyle, but now that he's at that point, he's not entirely sure if that's what he wants any more and he's not entirely sure where that leaves him. Besides directionless and depressed, that is.

Other:
~ Has a small and timid-but-friendly cat that he adores named (despite all his attempts to encourage her to respond to something else) Booples
~ Is the type of person who can and will sing along to anything on the radio
~ Lyrics around text box are from Legendary by Welshly Arms
 
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NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE
LILLIAN - CODE STRUGGLER
Location: Work|Computer
And as I sit here, contemplating life and the unknown, @Spectre of the Fade teaches poor Lillian how to make beautiful codes.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Duis tempor dictum maximus. Proin sem massa, consectetur a vestibulum at, facilisis sed risus. Mauris in tortor sed sem tincidunt sagittis ut nec diam. Donec sed risus sit amet tellus lobortis porttitor. Proin ac justo euismod, dignissim purus in, dapibus diam. Fusce ut nunc mollis, mollis diam ac, laoreet diam. Integer placerat augue eu pretium congue. Nulla finibus odio ac neque tempus, pretium egestas orci porta. Vivamus a gravida quam, nec feugiat dolor. Quisque pulvinar sapien ut nisi venenatis, eu efficitur ex pellentesque. Cras cursus at est eget efficitur. Morbi quis luctus lorem. Sed tincidunt velit vitae turpis facilisis aliquet. Proin et magna ac dolor semper convallis. Phasellus purus enim, euismod vel pellentesque rhoncus, tristique ac justo. In vel rhoncus tellus, in posuere eros.

Donec eget molestie dui. Vestibulum id sagittis erat. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Cras tempor tortor diam, ac dapibus elit euismod quis. Cras fermentum ullamcorper tellus nec ultricies. Nulla massa neque, rutrum quis accumsan eget, rutrum nec eros. Phasellus quis nisi venenatis, iaculis ligula vel, vestibulum tortor. Quisque euismod cursus leo, eu pulvinar dui porttitor ac. Ut imperdiet gravida tellus, eu placerat diam maximus eu. Aliquam euismod, ante quis gravida aliquet, odio dui suscipit purus, eget interdum ligula arcu vitae elit. Vivamus et fermentum quam. Donec sit amet odio est. Donec non elit hendrerit, varius sapien quis, vulputate eros. Proin in nulla commodo, aliquet orci vel, tincidunt urna. Nunc congue a dui pretium interdum.

Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Proin enim turpis, dictum nec ultrices vel, ultricies scelerisque odio. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Maecenas efficitur tellus sapien, nec rhoncus nibh lacinia nec. Integer sollicitudin quam vitae mauris tincidunt facilisis. Duis suscipit porttitor sollicitudin. Aenean dictum commodo tellus, ac feugiat lectus lobortis sit amet. Fusce interdum convallis auctor. Donec justo arcu, hendrerit a ultrices in, egestas sed est. Pellentesque venenatis finibus hendrerit. Donec lacinia ante odio, ullamcorper dictum felis consectetur nec. Nulla quis est et est eleifend rutrum ut cursus dolor. Praesent id tincidunt metus. Nunc vel nisl mi. Maecenas aliquet justo in urna ultrices tempus. Nunc non metus orci.




Code:
[div=background-color: #436886;padding:3px;margin-left:4%;margin-right:4%;][div=background-color: #436886;text-align: center;border:10px white solid;border-style:double;color: white;font-family:georgia;padding:10px;position:fixed;][SIZE=6]LILLIAN - CODE STRUGGLER[/SIZE]
Location: Work|Computer
[div=width:45%;display:inline-block;][div=background:url(https://storage.googleapis.com/imgfave/image_cache/1360858841111280.jpg); background-size: 100%; background-position: center; height: 470px;border-radius: 0%; border: transparent;][/div][/div][div=width:45%;display:inline-block;margin-left:5%;][div=background-color:white;color:black;font-family:georgia;padding: 8px;height:450px;overflow-y:scroll;]And as I sit here, contemplating life and the unknown, [USER=15270]@Spectre of the Fade[/USER] teaches poor Lillian how to make beautiful codes.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Duis tempor dictum maximus. Proin sem massa, consectetur a vestibulum at, facilisis sed risus. Mauris in tortor sed sem tincidunt sagittis ut nec diam. Donec sed risus sit amet tellus lobortis porttitor. Proin ac justo euismod, dignissim purus in, dapibus diam. Fusce ut nunc mollis, mollis diam ac, laoreet diam. Integer placerat augue eu pretium congue. Nulla finibus odio ac neque tempus, pretium egestas orci porta. Vivamus a gravida quam, nec feugiat dolor. Quisque pulvinar sapien ut nisi venenatis, eu efficitur ex pellentesque. Cras cursus at est eget efficitur. Morbi quis luctus lorem. Sed tincidunt velit vitae turpis facilisis aliquet. Proin et magna ac dolor semper convallis. Phasellus purus enim, euismod vel pellentesque rhoncus, tristique ac justo. In vel rhoncus tellus, in posuere eros.

Donec eget molestie dui. Vestibulum id sagittis erat. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Cras tempor tortor diam, ac dapibus elit euismod quis. Cras fermentum ullamcorper tellus nec ultricies. Nulla massa neque, rutrum quis accumsan eget, rutrum nec eros. Phasellus quis nisi venenatis, iaculis ligula vel, vestibulum tortor. Quisque euismod cursus leo, eu pulvinar dui porttitor ac. Ut imperdiet gravida tellus, eu placerat diam maximus eu. Aliquam euismod, ante quis gravida aliquet, odio dui suscipit purus, eget interdum ligula arcu vitae elit. Vivamus et fermentum quam. Donec sit amet odio est. Donec non elit hendrerit, varius sapien quis, vulputate eros. Proin in nulla commodo, aliquet orci vel, tincidunt urna. Nunc congue a dui pretium interdum.

Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Proin enim turpis, dictum nec ultrices vel, ultricies scelerisque odio. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Maecenas efficitur tellus sapien, nec rhoncus nibh lacinia nec. Integer sollicitudin quam vitae mauris tincidunt facilisis. Duis suscipit porttitor sollicitudin. Aenean dictum commodo tellus, ac feugiat lectus lobortis sit amet. Fusce interdum convallis auctor. Donec justo arcu, hendrerit a ultrices in, egestas sed est. Pellentesque venenatis finibus hendrerit. Donec lacinia ante odio, ullamcorper dictum felis consectetur nec. Nulla quis est et est eleifend rutrum ut cursus dolor. Praesent id tincidunt metus. Nunc vel nisl mi. Maecenas aliquet justo in urna ultrices tempus. Nunc non metus orci.
[/div][/div]

[/div][/div]
 
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  • Love
Reactions: Lillian Gray
HORUS
King of the Gods ☥ Lord of the Sky ☥ The Divine Falcon ☥ Avenger of Osiris
GklAiBc.png
GklAiBc.png
"This Sikh killed my brother, my people, the Sun himself."


BASICS
Name:
Horus

Age:
Younger than one would expect

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Position:
God of the Sky, Battle, and the Hunt ∞ King of the Gods



APPEARANCE
Height:
6'1" ∞ 1.86m

Weight:
188 lbs ∞ 86 kg

Hair:
Dark brown in color and curly in texture and kept neatly shaved close to his skull, lest it interfere with him wearing the Pshent, the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt.

Eyes:
JVRqHsE.jpg

Green, so much like those of his father and half-brother, though his are brighter than the either of the others and flecked with the gold he favors so much.

Tattoos/Markings:
A falcon spreading its wings across his chest, painstakingly applied with bronze needles



PERSONALITY
As a boy, Horus snatched the throne from the grasp of his father's killer with his strength, his guile, his charisma. As a man who has long since settled under the weight of the power he carries like another might carry a coin purse, these are still his defining traits. He is strong beyond mere strength of body; he is stubborn and he is strong willed, the sort who laughs in the face of difficulty and the sort who will break before he gives up something to which he has committed himself. He has cunning, as well, that acts as a balancing element. He takes up no cause he cannot make successful and the only sort of honor he cares to maintain is in actual combat. And, as any leader ought to be, he is charismatic. His words are carefully chosen, never wasted, and suffused with natural charm, though his manifest presence hardly needs the assistance of his words to catch the attention of those around him.

The King does have his flaws, however, and these have only worsened in the time since the Sikh and the murder of the Gods. Obstinacy even in the face of undeniable proof or insurmountable odds. Stoicism to previously unknown and painful heights, enough that he is no longer capable of confiding his troubles to his wife or even his mother. Anger, as well, his hawkish nature shifting into that outright irritability he hasn't had since he was still the boy seeking the throne. The worst, and the source of the rest, is his pride. His ego has taken control of his actions, it seems, as he's stopped deigning to do what he considers beneath him and become obsessed with his own status and power.

These dark things he's become fill him with rage and with disappointment, and he is self aware enough to desire change but utterly incapable of enforcing it. He is capable of enforcing one thing, however: this Sikh, reemerged so long after the crimes he committed, will feel the pain he brought to Horus' people.

Likes:
Gold, Blue, and Black ∞ Combat ∞ Weapons ∞ His family ∞ Attention ∞ Science ∞ Tactics ∞ His position ∞ Finishing tasks

Dislikes:
His rival, Set ∞ Being disrespected ∞ Silence ∞ Wasting time ∞ Apologizing ∞ Set ∞ Feelings ∞ Red ∞ His pride ∞ Anything to do with Set

Strengths:
Charismatic, Observant, Cunning, Excellent fighter

Weaknesses:
Irritable, Proud, Obstinate, Far too stoic

Fears:
Losing his power ∞ Losing his family ∞ Never breaking the curse ∞ Betrayal ∞ Hurting his mother again ∞ Losing his eyes or his hands again

Secrets:
Admired his older brother when he was growing up, and privately worries they'll go eons and never patch this rift between them
Finds the weight of command to be a heavy burden and is too proud to tell others when he feels like he'll crack under the stress
Worries that he'll follow his father's footsteps too closely
Dislikes wearing the Pshent, despite how much he likes the power it represents



Abilities:
Sky Manipulation - Horus commands the sky, and it obeys. He can create storms and dissipate them, summon fog or direct the wind, though he is limited to what sky he can see. He can also only manipulate wind that is already there, as he can't manipulate the air itself - only the currents it follows.
Enhanced Combat - Another of Horus' domains is battle, and he ensures he is good at it. Most any weapon that falls into his hands takes little time for him to master, and what weapons he has already picked up are deadly instruments in his grasp. This ability doesn't affect his strength or his dexterity or his speed, nor how effectively he uses his skills, just his skill level.

Items: [spoili]
narmer_union.gif

The Pshent - The crown of Upper and Lower Egypt that marks Horus' position as the Pharaoh, King of the Gods.

screenshot_2016-04-06_at_113337_am-153EC35465C5ED8F986.png

The Crook and Flail - The Crook symbolizes the Pharaoh's role as "shepherd" of the people; the Flail symbolizes the punishments necessary to sustain society. Both represent the power of the Pharaoh.


The Knife - The lavish knife Horus keeps by his side. It is said he obtained it from a mortal, of all things, but Horus refuses to confirm or deny such a story.

tumblr_inline_nvsv8fjUjl1qmcxsi_500.jpg

The Ax - Horus has a liking for any instrument of war he can get his hands on, but the battleaxe is his favorite. Its hacking and slashing style appeals to him and his brute strength.[/spoili]

True form: [spoili]
wei-chun-tu-horus.jpg
[/spoili]



RELATIONSHIPS
Friends:
Thoth -
"Wise and studious. I love him as a brother."
One of his longest and most well-trusted allies, the God of Wisdom is like a brother to Horus. He knows that Thoth wants for more than that and wishes to have a place in Horus' bed. Before the Sikh and his foul curse, Horus was unsure of how to proceed with this knowledge. After the curse, however, he's turned new and unkind eyes to this relationship between them...

Enemies:
Set -
"Ra decreed he have his place amongst the Gods, but I have forgotten nothing."
Horus hates Set, not only because he was born and raised to kill the man but because of the eighty years they spent warring before Horus finally defeated him and took his father's throne. Those deeds still weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Ra -
"The Sun himself, who holds greater power than even I."
Ra's indecision in his contest with Set fostered some small amount of dislike within Horus; his pride has turned that dislike into a burning hate for the man who would have kept him from the throne, the one man with even greater power than he.

Other:
Anubis -
"I love my brother, but I stopped trying to show him that a long time ago."
Horus and Anubis have a tense relationship, to say the least, but Horus would never consider his older brother an enemy. He spent far too many years admiring his brother's cunning and dedication from a distance while they competed for the throne to hate him. That said, he would never consider his older brother a friend, either. The tension between them, most likely a product of Osiris' favoritism (though Horus doesn't know for sure), is far too strong for that.



BIO
Stuff goes here



Extra:
the stuff and the things go here



"My pride will not allow me to stop until he feels my fucking wrath."

 
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HORUS
King of the Gods ☥ Lord of the Sky ☥ The Divine Falcon ☥ Heir of His Father
GklAiBc.png
GklAiBc.png
WORK IN PROGRESS
FC: Don Benjamin
SIN: Pride
POWER: Sky Manipulation, Enhanced Combat
GklAiBc.png
wei-chun-tu-horus.jpg
 
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HALVARD - THE BABY BROTHER
BASICS:
Halvard (originally Gervaise de Sauveterre)
HAAL-verhd (GHER-vase saw-VEH-tear)
"Hal, here to crash the party. It's something of a specialty of mine."
Hal, Baby Brother, The Soft Heart

Species:
Original Vampire

Born:
October 27th, 983 AD; 1008 years old; forever 21; Scorpio

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral

Faceclaim:
Billy Huxley
Playlist: One Two Three
Nationality:
French

Languages:
(F) French, (F) English, (F) Swedish, (C) Mandarin, (C) Latin, (P) Spanish

Allied:
Humans, himself

Powers & Ability:
~ The standard vampire set, appropriately augmented by his age and status as an Original
~ His finest asset is easily his physical strength, however, impressive even compared to his siblings

Appearance:
Hal's an imposing individual, standing at 6'3" barefoot and weighing a solid 221 lbs. The tattoos covering much of his exposed skin, along with his penchant for cigarettes and leather jackets, give him the stereotypical "bad boy" look and make him a bit more intimidating than he'd be otherwise. Given that dark appearance, it's surprising when he's actually sociable and even funny. His hair is a light brown, edging towards blonde, and wavy in texture; it's short like he bothers to trim it and usually messy like he genuinely doesn't care. His beard, however, is obviously well-maintained. He grooms it, cleans it, conditions it, and likely waxes it every morning to achieve the right level of softness and those perfect points on his mustache. It also makes him seem older than he looks, which he considers an advantage. His eyes are a pale and pretty hazel, some striking green mixed with gold. The most common outfit you'll see Hal in is sensible and well worn boots, dark wash jeans, a darkly colored shirt with some sort of sarcastic saying on it, and the obligatory black leather jacket.
Markings: Two full sleeves, full neck, a crown in the divot of his throat, "0983" across his chest, "Lust For Life" and an owl with arrows on his belly, revolvers on each of his hips, "LOST HOPE" across the knuckles of his hands, lots more; Both ears pierced with small gauges, left nipple pierced
Ref OneRef TwoRef Three
Playlist: Four Five Six
Personality & Brief Background:
When Halvard was still young, when he was still Gervaise and was far too soft to drink human blood, he was a shy boy. Quiet, unassuming, the sort who wanted nothing more than to fly under everyone's radar and be forgotten as soon as he left the room. That's who he was when his siblings began their infighting, and that's who he was when he vanished, seemingly off the face of the Earth. But it's been eight hundred and some years since then and he has changed.

Time and distance have shaped him into a surprisingly sociable and polite individual, given his personality when he was younger and his general appearance. It's easy to meet the sociable young man and assume him to be a good and wholesome person; he's chatty about his passions (video games, motorcycles, woodworking) with a good set of manners. His sense of humor tends towards the dark and the sarcastic, but that's easy to overlook because he's just so damn pleasant to be around. In fact, even with his tattoos and his intimidating look and his style of dress, it can be difficult to believe his tales of fist fights, illegal activity, and the many other scandals he'd had some hand in.

His inner personality is a far darker picture, however. His anger and his general distrust of everyone he meets are heightened by his vampiric nature, combining with his bloodlust to make a genuine monster. He's terrified of losing his temper, terrified of losing control, hesitant to trust and hesitant to take kindnesses at their face value. He genuinely wants to help others, especially the humans he's so fascinated by, while simultaneously believing he doesn't deserve help himself. Most of his waking life is resisting temptation to feed or rage or shut down his feelings; perhaps it's the true showcase of his self-depreciative nature that he hasn't done so yet. Regardless, he does his damnedest to keep this inner darkness internalized and instead channels it into his hobbies and his extraordinarily dark sense of humor.

Aspirations & Regrets:
Halvard elected to join his siblings, the first time he'd see any of them in centuries, in New Orleans because of his small hope for peace and with one goal in mind: ensure the humans he cares so dearly for aren't forgotten in any treaty that's established. He privately regrets cutting off contact with his family to such a severe degree, but he refuses to take the action back though he does wish to make up for it.

Other:
~ Rides a Harley Davidson Panhead he's had since he got it off the assembly line
~ Strongly dislikes spiders and other creepy crawlies, despite his knowledge that they cannot hurt him
~ Follows the Norse religious tradition



tumblr_n3ylhaNsQP1rmmysao1_500.jpg

Playlist: OneTwoThreeFourFiveSix

BASICS:
Halvard (originally Gervaise de Sauveterre)
HAAL-verhd (GHER-vase saw-VEH-tear)
"Hal, here to crash the party. It's something of a specialty of mine."
Hal, Baby Brother, The Soft Heart

Species:
Original Vampire

Born:
October 27th, 983 AD; 1008 years old; forever 21; Scorpio

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral

Faceclaim:
Billy Huxley



Nationality:
French

Languages:
(F) French, (F) English, (F) Swedish, (C) Mandarin, (C) Latin, (P) Spanish

Allied:
Humans, himself

Powers & Ability:
~ The standard vampire set, appropriately augmented by his age and status as an Original
~ His finest asset is easily his physical strength, however, impressive even compared to his siblings

Appearance:
Hal's an imposing individual, standing at 6'3" barefoot and weighing a solid 221 lbs. The tattoos covering much of his exposed skin, along with his penchant for cigarettes and leather jackets, give him the stereotypical "bad boy" look and make him a bit more intimidating than he'd be otherwise. Given that dark appearance, it's surprising when he's actually sociable and even funny. His hair is a light brown, edging towards blonde, and wavy in texture; it's short like he bothers to trim it and usually messy like he genuinely doesn't care. His beard, however, is obviously well-maintained. He grooms it, cleans it, conditions it, and likely waxes it every morning to achieve the right level of softness and those perfect points on his mustache. It also makes him seem older than he looks, which he considers an advantage. His eyes are a pale and pretty hazel, some striking green mixed with gold. The most common outfit you'll see Hal in is sensible and well worn boots, dark wash jeans, a darkly colored shirt with some sort of sarcastic saying on it, and the obligatory black leather jacket.
Markings: Two full sleeves, full neck, a crown in the divot of his throat, "0983" across his chest, "Lust For Life" and an owl with arrows on his belly, revolvers on each of his hips, "LOST HOPE" across the knuckles of his hands, lots more; Both ears pierced with small gauges, left nipple pierced
Ref OneRef TwoRef Three

Personality & Brief Background:
When Halvard was still young, when he was still Gervaise and was far too soft to drink human blood, he was a shy boy. Quiet, unassuming, the sort who wanted nothing more than to fly under everyone's radar and be forgotten as soon as he left the room. That's who he was when his siblings began their infighting, and that's who he was when he vanished, seemingly off the face of the Earth. But it's been eight hundred and some years since then and he has changed.

Time and distance have shaped him into a surprisingly sociable and polite individual, given his personality when he was younger and his general appearance. It's easy to meet the sociable young man and assume him to be a good and wholesome person; he's chatty about his passions (video games, motorcycles, woodworking) with a good set of manners. His sense of humor tends towards the dark and the sarcastic, but that's easy to overlook because he's just so damn pleasant to be around. In fact, even with his tattoos and his intimidating look and his style of dress, it can be difficult to believe his tales of fist fights, illegal activity, and the many other scandals he'd had some hand in.

His inner personality is a far darker picture, however. His anger and his general distrust of everyone he meets are heightened by his vampiric nature, combining with his bloodlust to make a genuine monster. He's terrified of losing his temper, terrified of losing control, hesitant to trust and hesitant to take kindnesses at their face value. He genuinely wants to help others, especially the humans he's so fascinated by, while simultaneously believing he doesn't deserve help himself. Most of his waking life is resisting temptation to feed or rage or shut down his feelings; perhaps it's the true showcase of his self-depreciative nature that he hasn't done so yet. Regardless, he does his damnedest to keep this inner darkness internalized and instead channels it into his hobbies and his extraordinarily dark sense of humor.

Aspirations & Regrets:
Halvard elected to join his siblings, the first time he'd see any of them in centuries, in New Orleans because of his small hope for peace and with one goal in mind: ensure the humans he cares so dearly for aren't forgotten in any treaty that's established. He privately regrets cutting off contact with his family to such a severe degree, but he refuses to take the action back though he does wish to make up for it.

Other:
~ Rides a Harley Davidson Panhead he's had since he got it off the assembly line
~ Strongly dislikes spiders and other creepy crawlies, despite his knowledge that they cannot hurt him
~ Follows the Norse religious tradition​
 
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NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE
〖Name〗Astrid Eira De Sauvet ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Age〗1013, Physical Age 24 Turned in 1004 a.d ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Nationality〗French ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Languages〗[1] Old Norse, French, English. [2] Greek, Gaelic, Latin. ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Allied〗Witch

Ura picac hacep mege coci marew. Wuyola ited narieyo erun tanol cecin; titan teyor hesicut sobetes. Go moyix coti ri. Nesabe tadorol ciega ner te ipareto pefe nigibid. Eleluri yeseti ci adecino goradu lo esikil duxes timi.

De palek mano! Taciyem bi no biceja yireni gu sefis! Isip lelo utodasal silet der teta eben more nom, teda alonic no gi teh ba imepecec nitanoy. Hiyikac ibine ren, aya cic teto run. Anama yekic dilin tave isosora tatoc rerap com tef eti. Ile pet emietierar tonane fudas cobi sieterit mo! La renofo lomis hic tayima tite romosi yata. Nenalor cemifa sesenis gidut bali cidop olet cafa. Sefe hetih gehi roharim erericum lan; ro sote anilo gun motin rosofi usares nehil! Rene wetetop tanipa umobebe eke ekoton ohesereg otedano mebiso.

Tedesi hoci ci, odup sede icieneh rure feb ihefateh hie dogikev oti. Ociet ni rahurog cu ele raruda; se rat cegor. Gec mafot tief ihisi cada her, le sinulu ehonito agica panahud rihosi hehec. Ros arel riharu sikuro; olu liselan tepoles inocer. Gesemuw rusiesig nenu ieci mapisi. Icelarut saci lepuhe cemen ma lievuc olietan ba. Onanibu kasietu ewaceno lito rasu ma? Citedi apepa ope liku rareg keki coy rac lecetu! Ru ipinapey dosi no cap pomaciet. Ages com epof haba papel yo tega sa lok. Diceyo cetori mugira.


Code:
[div=display:inline-block; border: 2px solid #baffc6; border-top-left-radius: 20px; border-top-right-radius: 20px; border-bottom-left-radius: 20px; border-bottom-right-radius: 20px; background-image: url("http://68.media.tumblr.com/5a71b4456223b62e348051a9c3022008/tumblr_nuzyq7E1cd1s2rrw7o5_1280.jpg"); color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center;padding: 20px;margin-right: 5%; margin-left: 5%;][div=display:inline-block; background-color: #e6ffe6; height: 300px; width: 40%; background-color: #e6ffe6; Opacity: 0.7; border-top-left-radius: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; Border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; border: 4px double #cc99ff; font-size: 10px; line-height: 26px; color: black; font-family: Arvo; Overflow-y: auto;margin-right: 2%;] 〖Name〗Astrid Eira De Sauvet ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Age〗1013, Physical Age 24 Turned in 1004 a.d ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Nationality〗French ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Languages〗[1] Old Norse, French, English. [2] Greek, Gaelic, Latin. ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ 〖Allied〗Witch[/div][div=display:inline-block; Background-image: url("http://i.imgur.com/bXBvaE2.gif"); background-position: 50% 0%; Width: 50%; Height: 225px; border-top-left-radius: 50px; Border-top-right-radius: 50px; Border-bottom-left-radius: 50px; Border-bottom-right-radius: 50px; Border: 3px double #cc99ff;][/div]
[div=display:inline-block; Background-Image: url("http://68.media.tumblr.com/0856258e4c7472911f128fdf642db8e3/tumblr_inline_nndfcc5Hpb1rll3ru_500.gif");width:40%; height: 200px;][/div][div=display:inline-block; background-color: #e6ffe6; height: 400px; width: 50%; background-color: #e6ffe6; Opacity: 0.7; border-top-left-radius: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; Border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; border: 4px double #cc99ff; font-size: 10px; line-height: 26px; color: black; font-family: Arvo; Overflow-y: auto;margin-left: 2%;margin-top: 2%;]Ura picac hacep mege coci marew. Wuyola ited narieyo erun tanol cecin; titan teyor hesicut sobetes. Go moyix coti ri. Nesabe tadorol ciega ner te ipareto pefe nigibid. Eleluri yeseti ci adecino goradu lo esikil duxes timi.

De palek mano! Taciyem bi no biceja yireni gu sefis! Isip lelo utodasal silet der teta eben more nom, teda alonic no gi teh ba imepecec nitanoy. Hiyikac ibine ren, aya cic teto run. Anama yekic dilin tave isosora tatoc rerap com tef eti. Ile pet emietierar tonane fudas cobi sieterit mo! La renofo lomis hic tayima tite romosi yata. Nenalor cemifa sesenis gidut bali cidop olet cafa. Sefe hetih gehi roharim erericum lan; ro sote anilo gun motin rosofi usares nehil! Rene wetetop tanipa umobebe eke ekoton ohesereg otedano mebiso.

Tedesi hoci ci, odup sede icieneh rure feb ihefateh hie dogikev oti. Ociet ni rahurog cu ele raruda; se rat cegor. Gec mafot tief ihisi cada her, le sinulu ehonito agica panahud rihosi hehec. Ros arel riharu sikuro; olu liselan tepoles inocer. Gesemuw rusiesig nenu ieci mapisi. Icelarut saci lepuhe cemen ma lievuc olietan ba. Onanibu kasietu ewaceno lito rasu ma? Citedi apepa ope liku rareg keki coy rac lecetu! Ru ipinapey dosi no cap pomaciet. Ages com epof haba papel yo tega sa lok. Diceyo cetori mugira.[/div][/div]
 
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