Character List

Heres my first one

Name:
Oneej

Age:
12

Race:
Angel

Sex:
Male

Hair:
black

Hair style:
messy

Eyes:
brown

Weight:
100 lbs

Height:
5 feet

Weapons:
Light Bow, Ring of Manipulation

Light Bow
The Light Bow was a gift from the Chief Angel leading the battle against the dragon.

Ring of Manipulation
The Ring was passed down to him by his parents the night befere they died. It had an ability to copy an ability that was used against him. Comes with Ability CopyCat.


Armor:
Platinum Chest armor, Platinum boots and gloves, Platinum Helmet.

Strengths:
Manipulation, Archer,Forest. Manipulation:Copies the ability that he got hit by. Archer: Oneej is a good archer he can hit a person using his sight of vision which is 25 feet. As long as the character doesnt move it will be a perfect shot.
Forest
When Oneej is near or inside a forest he recieves less damage and gets a little bit stronger.

Weakness:
Fire, Dark, Wind.
Fire
Whenever Oneej gets burned he feels the pain of the mighty dragon that ruined his home.

Wind
Although One of his attacks are wind. When he gets blown by wind his wings push him back.

Dark
As an angel he has better resistant with light attacks. But if hit by anything Demonic will be dangerous for him.

Skills/Magic:
CopyCat(copies an ability),Golden arrow, and Gust.

Golden Arrow
The Golden Arrow is the skill that comes with Oneeje's bow. It shoots an arrow that goes straight until it hits a target. It will never Fall down.
CopyCat
Oneej can Copy some abilities. However when he copies them they lose half their strength so that it isnt to strong for Oneej to use.
Gust
Whenever Oneej is in danger he always found his wind attack to be useful. He flaps his wings powerfuly and makes a strong gust of wind.



Appearance:

He has big white wings, light skin, point ears, and has burn marks all over his legs and chest. He has arrow marks near his eyes. Clearly you can see that he was miserable by the sad look in his face and bloody scars everywhere. Thats why he wears his armor to cover his scars. In the light the platinum shines from the light. His hair blows back when its windy and he walks pretty slow but when he takes his armor off and reveals his wings he is much faster. His hand has a scratch mark on it from the dragon. He weres a neckelace with one of the dragons claw they managed to take off. On his left hand you will see the mark of light. When he takes his armor off he has a rpped shirt and there are even more scars and stains. His pants are slightly torn at the bottom showing a huge stain that was caused by the dragon. On his left leg there is one burn mark and there is a scar made from an arrow. On his hands he has one big scar from archer practice.

Personality:
Takes risk, serious, Nice, and hesitates when near fire. When he talks he has a serious tone. He never fools around and sticks to his primal goal. When he pulls his arrow out hell squint at histarget to make sure he doesn't miss. He almost never regrets any of his actions. He is quick and precise he wont stop untill he achieves his goal.
When he is hesitant he might charge up to you and punch with all his might. With his platinum gloves it must really hurt. He rarely takes pity for he has suffered so much he doesnt have time to show sympathy.

Biography:

Oneej was from a cloud village with his family. But there was an evil dragon that burned the village leaving ruins and corpses. The dragon was too pwerful and they had to flee. Oneej barely escaped with burn marks and scars. During the battle his parents gave him the ring of Manipulation and the Bow of the Chief Angel. That night he found out his dad died fighting the dragon. His mom was so upset she went to battle and also died. There was no choice left and the angels fled their village. All thats left is ruins and a cave were the dragon lives. Oneej searched for the other angels but found no such luck. So he started a new life in our world as an archer. He has been waiting forhim to finalize his training so he can destroy the dragon.

Before The War
Oneej was a common angel in his village, really never appreciated but he never letthat stop him before. He has always been kind of a loser to the people that live there. He grew up as an outcast, his parents are always to busy to spend time with him. He knew they loved him though. No one got him anythingfor his birthday , they dont even remember his birthday. Although all that rejection helped him push himself to train as hard as he can so he can prove that he is a great angel. One month after he learned how to fly. He was the first one and everyone began to admire him. He had a couple of friends that shared techniques with him. That was when he was happy.

Birth

Everyone new Oneeje's story except for Oneej. The truth is that he was given the mark of light that gave him an ability to learn fast and carry the RoM(Ring of Manipulation). People knew he could steal powers if the mark of light were ever to glow. Later on he learned how to borrow a power that is used against him, but his mark was sealed so he never could steal powers. It is known that only the destruction of the beas that will destroy the village will unseal his gift and he will be able to use the glow. Other than not knowing he can do that he grew up as a normal child.

Rank
Before you can become an Angel you had to go to the Angel Academy and graduate finishing all exams as given.

Name: Oneej
Birth Day: Nov 18, 1993
Attended Angel Academy in: Oct 22, 2000
Graduated on: Dec 12, 2005
Rank: Apprentice
Current Rank: Archer

Ranking System
There are four Rour different Rank Systems for an Angel this is for Archers.

Angel Archer
Rank 1
Novice is the title you recieve when you enter in the AA(Angel Academy)
Rank 2
Apprentice is the second rank. You get this After Gradguating the AA. There are two types ApprenticeThis is if you have not been an apprentice during the Academy. And there is ApprenticeIf you have been an apprentice during the Academy.
Rank 3
The third rank is Archer. To get this rank you must have been released from your master as an Archer.

Thanks to Ratha for the approval =]]

***
Pre-Rain's Ascension

After Rain's Ascension:
Full Name: Raisha Seraph

Also Known As: Hell’s Bride, Bloodwing angel, Ai, Rai, Aisha. (Goes by Aisha or Ai most of the time)

Age: Sometime after her first century, she stopped counting. Although her appearance gives off the illusion that she looks twenty-three-ish, for the most.

Race: According to Rain’s biography, Aisha became a vampire, but after her death at the hands of her brother, her soul was shattered. As a result, both her body and remnants of her soul became unstable, out of balance. She has the fangs of a vampire, but has neither the advantages nor disadvantages of the species. The instability of her soul altered her physical body greatly, giving her some advantages and disadvantages. She only needs to feed on souls for her body to survive, hence, she became some sort of Soul Reaper. Soul Reapers live for centuries upon centuries, because feeding off of souls keep them from aging.

Sex: Female.

Hair: Gold as her eyes and loose. Its length reaches just past her shoulders.

Eyes: Gold, as her hair, attributed with a soulless gaze.

Weight: Due to the nature of her soul, she can alter her weight at will. She usually keeps it at one normal level (between 110lbs and 125lbs). She can also become as light as a feather. Crossing chasms was never this easy, folks!

Height: 5 feet 9 inches.

Weapons:
The dagger Celestia: Forged from the shards of Hellfire. Unlike it's predecessor, Celestia is totally indestructible and the blade glows blue at all times. The blade snakes and is not fully straight. It can puncture the strongest magic barrier or slice cleanly through glass without shattering it. It feeds on Aisha's emotions, but not in a bad way. As a result, Ai never loses her temper or breaks down. The dagger alters it and slowly gives it back to her, satisfying a hunger for souls that would crush her heart severely. She has this with her at all times. Celestia can absorb holy magic, converting it to 'energy' or 'nutrition' for Ai. If it absorbs too much at once, however, it gets rid of the excess by emitting a blinding light from the blue blade.

Present Day weapons (for present day settings):
Two Black Springfield Armory XD HS200 Tactical .45 ACP Pistols Also called Blacktails.
Mostly used. Each carries 13 rounds at one time, and she always has a little extra ammo. When she runs out of ammo, she relies on the dagger.
She also has lasers installed on each gun, just below the barrel. They help increase her already perfect accuracy, but mostly, they're just used for irritating distractions.

Futuristic weapons (for futuristic settings):
Two black pistols, both having the power of a shotgun, but can fire rapidly. The guns can fire both physical shells and small energy blasts that burn on contact. When the physical shells run out, she can use the energy blasts, but after a while, the guns overheat and need to cool down before she uses them again.

Armour: None.

Strengths: She can cross chasms (by ‘walking on air’ because of her altered weight) and traps that are set off by weight become void. Aisha is also bloodless, (hence her pale outward appearance) She can be cut, bruised, or beaten to near death, but she won’t suffer from blood loss. Her looks and near emotionless-ness grant her the power of deception. When wounded with normal weapons, she can heal almost instantly. Her speed, due to her altering weight, can also rival that of Rain’s. She doesn’t need to eat or sleep, but finds comfort in doing so. She has realized that her altering weight can acrobatically enhance her movements, thus making her harder to hit and making her perform even more impossible feats such as running across or up walls. She has heightened observational skills and her memory is eidetic.

She uses her heightened observational skills and memory to anticipate and prepare for any outcome of any given situation, even situations where she might be totally cornered.

Weaknesses: Holy weapons and magic form her main weaknesses; just a touch alone will cause a burn with such intensity, that she might have to retreat from the battle in order to heal. Wounds from these weapons and magic take much more energy and time to heal. Healing normal wounds also take a little time, and no energy. If she is beaten relentlessly, she won’t have time to heal. Also, if she is caught off-guard by the wind while casually moving around while she’s feather-weight, she can -literally- be blown away.

Magic/Skills:
The Harvest: (Magic: Mysticism | Absorption) This one is fairly basic, and most used. When she kills someone, just before they die, their soul is extracted and absorbed. She just needs to put her palm facing the victim, and will the soul to come forth. The victim dies instantly afterwards. She still uses this to this day, but very rarely and mostly on criminals who get on her bad side.

Hemorrhage: (Magic: Illusion) This is a weak spell, which only lasts a little less than a minute. The person she uses it on will see himself or herself in Aisha’s place. So it’ll be much like the victim is looking into a mirror. The only difference is that the ‘reflection’ is battered, bruised, and bleeding all over. Remember, it’s all an illusion.

Bloodwing: (Magic: Destruction) A more powerful spell than the previous two. Her hands must be totally free, meaning she can’t be holding anything.. She puts both of her palms outwards, facing the victim, and emits a blast of heat that blows the opponent and everything surrounding him backwards. The way Aisha positions her hands (wrist against wrist, with palms facing the victim, fingers not touching each other) and the crimson colour of the blast as soon as it is released from her hands gives the spell its name.

Soul Seeker: (Magic: Alteration) A magic spell of a Soul Reaper. This changes Aisha’s vision and makes her almost completely blind. The only things she’ll see are the silhouette of creatures and humans who have souls. If the creature is at full health, the silhouette is faint. If the creature is near death, the silhouette glimmers brightly (signifying that the soul is ready to be let out after the body perishes). Her vision is not affected by obstacles such as walls or doors, she only sees the silhouettes of the people behind them, so she can tell how much people are behind a wall or other obstacle.

Bricks and Feather: (Magic: Alteration) This spell can be used any time, any where. She alters her weight with this. Her weight can go from being as heavy as a ton of bricks, or as light as a feather.

Shifting Mirror: (Skill) Aisha can copy her opponent’s every move, once she’s seen them before. For example, if she sees someone handling a sword exceptionally well, she can mimic their every move, and use it on anyone. The different moves and techniques that she observes remains in her memory, and can be used on others. Aisha cannot copy magical abilities.

She also possesses a mediocre two-way telepathic link with her brother.

Fighting Styles:

Her fighting style is a mixture of capoiera and break dancing. Her movements are swift and erratic, making her hard to hit and her attacks hard to block or parry since her movements are simply unpredictable. This style of fighting does not work in small areas, but she has a dagger and two guns: she can improvise.

She is also skilled in gun-kata, where her observational skills and perfect memory comes into play.

Appearance before Rain's 'death'. (Hellfire sword included)

Present Appearance:


Personality:
Ai now shows near full human emotion, contradicting her old ways. She once thought it impossible. Now, she can cry or smile with no strings attached. Since Celestia feeds off her emotions, one cannot say that she has fully human emotions simply because she cannot display excessive anger, lust, sadness or fear. But she can display joy and love. Aisha is basically calm and sort of 'laid back'. She regrets her old life and refuses to recall it, but she still does. She remembers everything. If not for the dagger in her possession, she would have broken down a long time ago. Aisha can also be said to have a condition called Hyperthymesia, although she does not display the first of the two distinct characteristics of it.

Themesong(s): YouTube - Joan Jett - Bad Reputation

Biography:
She remembered it all.

Rain’s hand against her neck. The strength he held in his fingers as her neck twisted out of place before it snapped. But even then she was still alive, she felt everything. Pain and suffering caused by her fatal injury as well as the suffering of her infuriated heartbeat. How she wished that it would just stop, that it would all stop. Then she felt it. Something sharp against her chest, and suddenly, it ripped through her skin, rupturing veins and grating its way to her heart.

And then… it all stopped.

Even as her eyelids struggled to remain open, she saw the darkness cloud her eyesight. Tension in her muscles ceased, her hand fell lifeless to the floor, touching the cold sanguine liquid that flowed from her heart.

She remembered everything.

Aisha closed her eyes as she remembered the sickening crackle of the bones in her neck as they snapped back into place. She ran her now ghostly pale hand up her once flowing white dress, up to the gaping tear in it. Her fingers touched her skin there, feeling no mark of a wooden stake being there at all. The only evidence that remained were her ruddy dress, and the stake soaked in blood, her blood, lying on the red-stained ground.

Her bare feet shuffled through the rubble, barely lifting off the ground. For now, all that she could think about was the moment when her brother drove the stake through her heart. Her mind felt shattered, it descended into total turmoil. Aisha denied the memory all she could, but it kept coming back to her. She felt blinded somehow, and her feelings overshadowed her eyes. Her eyes saw nothing but black now, she unconsciously quickened her pace.

Her walk broke into a run. She stumbled over stones and twigs in her path, she could not see them. Her feet and toes blistered and bruised, Aisha fell over out of exhaustion, bruising her knees when she did. Her confusion was increased further when her wounds tingled as they healed. Her breathing increased, but the associated increase of the speed of her heartbeat was not felt. Aisha’s hand found its way over her chest, but there was no vibrating of her chest. It only rose and fell as breaths were inhaled and exhaled.

She turned abruptly. A faint glimmer had caught her eyes. Aisha held her breath as the glimmering silhouette seemed to turn towards her. The crackling of twigs and grating of stones met her ears as the silhouette moved slowly towards her. The creature in the darkness leaned over her, inspecting her with its hidden eyes. Aisha propelled herself back slightly with her arms and feet. It followed her movements, and suddenly, she felt something warm touch her waist gently

Get away from me.

She gritted her teeth as her hands pushed outward, attempting to knock back her assailant. She succeeded, but much more than she had expected. Her hands emitted a simmering burst of air, throwing the silhouette backwards. In the midst of this, she saw the darkness fading away. Like a squid’s ink in water, the black clouds rolled off her eyes, almost blinding her with daylight. Aisha’s eyes adjusted to the light as they searched around her. Sight fell upon what -or rather, who- the silhouette was. Standing up, Aisha put out her hand, and moved slowly towards the body of a boy. He seemed to be no older than sixteen, dressed in rags, a short steel sword gripped tightly by his fingers.

She stopped.

Something warm pressed against the palm of her outstretched hand. A warm breeze filled her body and surrounded her. Her eyes closed as she inhaled it, and it felt as if the warmness fused with her own fragmented soul. Unconsciously, her tongue stretched outwards and caressed her lips, making them slightly moist. Her first taste of a soul. Ai bent over, and uncurled the boy’s fingers from around the hilt of his sword. She had no idea what it was she did, or why she did it.

But she craved more.

Blinded by this new and odd craving, Aisha sifted through the brush until she found a path through the trees that might take her somewhere. As she prodded along the path, she did so without aim, without any sort of motivation. Life left her eyes, the gold in them became dull.

Aisha had unknowingly embraced her new life. A new, meaningless, soulless life.

A sudden clanking of steel in the distance attracted her attention. Lifting her dress slightly so her movements would not be hindered, she went swiftly and silently towards the source of the clashing. Ai stumbled upon a small encampment. There was a fire, and three teenagers sitting around it, one was a girl who held a folded, dark cloth to her chest tightly. There were two boys behind them; both held swords in their hands, practicing their swordplay. One boy’s sword caught her eye, it wasn’t dull and small like the other one, but large and ruddy, with a tint of gold wherever the light reflected off of it. He swung it around with ease as the other one parried, twirling his sword and attacking when the opening of opportunity presented itself. All were dressed in familiar rags, save for the girl’s boots, which were dark, like the folded cloth, but shiny. Aisha hid nearby and observed their movements intently, but her attention was taken from them when a boy that sat near the fire began to speak.

"Hehe, Kati," He chuckled, talking to the girl, "Do you like the dress and boots we stole for you?"

Kati nodded with a small smile, "Mmhm!"

"Happy birthday, Kati."

"Thank you... very much." She responded softly, nodding and smiling ever so slightly.

Their celebration was interrupted by the slow movement of footsteps near them. The sitting boys shot up and drew their swords hastily, the girl being left to sit back and watch. The two boys who were practicing went behind the intruder, while the two who were at the fire stood at the front. Aisha was not moved by their enclosure, instead, she kept staring straight ahead. They seemed to be intimidated by her. Intimidated by the sword in her hand, by her bloody dress, her silence, her dead stare. Finally, one of them took the initiative and stuttered to her.

"L..Look lady, if you don’t leave now, we-… we’ll have to kill you!"

Ai remembered what she felt when she was on the ground, clasping her chest. She gritted her teeth slightly, tilting her lips a little. Her eyes still holding a vacant gaze, she twirled the sword in her hand, just like how the boy twirled his when he was practicing.

"I’m already dead."

Gravel grated rhythmically underfoot as one of the boys rushed in from the left. He held his steel sword upright, yelling something short of a war cry. Aisha turned to him, and blocked each of his attacks, imitating the technique that she had observed before. Uttering a cry of surprise at her knowledge of his attacks, he left himself open for a few full seconds. Another cry escaped his lips, but it ended abruptly as Ai’s sword went deeper into his skull. Letting go of the hilt, Aisha put her palm towards the falling boy and touched her lips with her tongue, expecting to feel what she had felt before. The boy’s feet lifted off the ground as his soul was pulled from the body. The soul extracted, Ai wrapped her fingers around the handle of the sword which she had just sent through the boy’s skull. A sickening grating sound of bone and steel echoed slightly as the sword was ripped from his head. Kati shrieked at the gory sight as she backed away slowly from the group. This time, Ai swung to her right, clashing blades with the decorated sword.

"Think you can withstand Hellfire?" The boy grunted through gritted teeth.

Her sword began to crack as he pressed down on her makeshift shield. In a last effort, she swung horizontally, breaking both the boy’s pressing attack and her steel blade in one swift, strong movement. Ai put her hand to the side, as she stared straight ahead, seemingly over the boy who stumbled backwards. Her fingers relaxed, allowing the broken sword to fall noisily near her feet. The fresh stench of blood seemed to thicken the air. It filled nostrils and throats, choking those who breathed it in slightly. Ai didn’t move a muscle, subtly waiting to be attacked.

"Come into my parlor." Said the spider to the fly.

The remaining three boys remained a good distance away. It never did dawn on them that running would be a grand idea right now. Kati, huddled near the fire, shifted uneasily, crushing some dried leaves while she did. The silence broke, and the boys’ attention shifted to the slight noise. Aisha quickly put her wrists together, and faced her palms toward the boy who had just attacked her. He flew backwards, releasing his sword in the process. Ai bent her knees as her hand picked up her new sword with the greatest of ease. The tip of it scraped against the ground, and made a distinct continuing ping as it left the dirt. The boy who had first held that blade was unconscious.

She would deal with him later.

Ai started towards Kati, with a quicker, more normal pace than she had used before. The remaining two boys attempted to block her path and protect the girl. They huddled together in front of her, both their swords upright, facing her, both shaking severely from fear. Ai swung the sword upward fiercely and abruptly, severing one boy’s wrists. Both screamed as her attack continued horizontally, causing both screams to end swiftly. Aisha turned her attention towards the young girl, Kati, whose eyes were bulging from fright. She sweated uncontrollably, the fire she was near to didn’t seem to help her in any way.

As Aisha began to advance slowly, Kati began to plead.

"Please, miss! I’m an orphan, it’s my birthday, please don’t kill me, I don’t want to die..."

At this point, tears began to flow. Kati’s hands trembled as she struggled to wipe them away.

Her scream began to rise in volume, but it was forcefully cut short.

***

Days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

Distance treaded turned into miles.

Various techniques and her own abilities mastered, Ai found herself walking from town to town. Her craving became a dying flame, she harvested what she needed more smartly now, and not in a blind hunger-driven rampage as before. She still killed, sometimes it was anyone she came across. Men, women and children. None of them were spared. She cut down the authorities when they dared to confront her about her misdeeds. Guilt and regret were never felt. Ai became near emotionless.

She felt no heart in her.

She would have never guessed what would happen on a fated day.

The sun began to set as Ai stood at the centre of a dusty town. Her sword sheathed across her back, and her eyes still dull and lifeless. No one dared to look straight into her eyes, to be honest, the townspeople were intimidated by her. Ai set her eyes for her vision to descend into darkness. The silhouette’s of the townspeople flitted by, most of them faint, some of them ready to gleam. But there was one, just one, which was exceptionally faint. The glimmer of the silhouette was even less than a perfectly healthy newborn. Ai tilted her head slightly at this one. She blinked, forcing her sight back to normality.

Ai suddenly rushed forward, her lips slightly apart, and her eyes moist with tears. She wrapped her arms around the person from behind, and buried her face in his back, crying.

"Rain…" She cried.

Rain’s eyes widened, her voice in his ear. He turned his face to look at the girl who held him.

"Raisha…? Is it you…?"

She released him from her grasp, and looked up into his eyes, wiping her face and nodding to answer the question.

"I missed you…" She sighed through parted lips.

"Oh, Rai…"

"I’ll kill you!" Ai screamed, hastily drawing her sword and swinging it viciously at him. Her eyes closed, her eyelids pushed out tears which fell like stars unto the dust. This was it. Her mind descended into total chaos, one half of her cried uncontrollably while the other viciously tried to unleash it’s rage. Rain was caught in her sudden flurry of attacks, he felt the sword slice cleanly into his shoulder. If he hadn’t jumped back when he did, his arm would’ve been severed completely. He held his wound tightly as he landed, too surprised to speak. Aisha looked at him, crying afresh, she gritted her teeth. Her wrists together, and her fingers apart, she spoke softly.

"I’m sorry…"

She closed her eyes as the heat exploded from her hands, sending Rain backwards harshly.

Her tears were left behind when she turned and ran.

She kept running till she collapsed. Ai remained on the ground for a little while, her eyes closed as she concentrated on dismissing each and every thought of her brother. She sat up, on the verge of succeeding in her mental battle, she wiped her eyes gently.

"Miss!"

Her thoughts interrupted by a strange voice. She turned to face a middle-aged woman, finely dressed in expensive clothes.

"Miss. Where did you get that dress? I was robbed of a dress similar to this one while buying it. I paid good money for it."

Aisha stood up, looking away from the person slightly. Her eyes were no longer shining, their dull state had returned.

"Miss, are you listening to me?! That dress is mine."

"Oh, I’m sorry. You won’t be needing it." Ai’s hand clasped her sword’s hilt. The smooth sound of Hellfire scraping against its sheath filled her ear as it was slowly drawn.

*** The Ascension ***

She felt it. Like a stab to her throat. It seared her heart. She felt her brother's heart stop beating. The gates of Hell had opened at the cost of her brother's life. And there was war. Not physically, with sword and shield, but a mental battle within her. Aisha almost completely lost her sanity, the two opposing sides within her were now fighting for absolute power. The one that wanted revenge fought the side that wanted her to make peace. The immense pressure on her mind caused her to lash out at anyone and anything violently. Her sword at that time, had the power to sense and react to her current feelings, it screeched and vibrated at each of her swings until the blade eventually shattered before her eyes. Her focus unknowingly shifted to her broken sword. Ai knelt and began picking up the pieces that were big enough to hold, placing them on the red cape of the last life she had claimed.

The last innocent she will ever kill.

Aisha carried the shards of the sword wherever she wandered. She wandered mindlessly, her cheeks almost always wet with tears. Aisha had folded the cape over the shards and had never stopped to open it after she first placed the pieces. After weeks of wandering, she eventually realized that her mind became calm a while after her sword broke. For the first time in centuries, she honestly smiled, dropping the red bundle in her arms. When it hit the ground, Aisha's ears only received one 'clank', and not a 'jingle' which it should have been. She carefully opened the red cape and beheld a glowing dagger, which sparkled like the stars until it was in her fingers. Aisha immediately felt bound to it. She picked up the cape, the dust of her old sword glittering as it endlessly fell from the material. Even to this day, the red, glittering dust falls from the cape that she wears on her left shoulder. Her mind settled, she ventures off into a new world, seeing through different eyes.


Battles:
Chinatown Rush.

I forgot to post my charater here a qwhile ago...sorry
NAME: Wave
AGE: 15
Height: 6"1
Weight: 123
Eyes: blue
Species: Water Elf



Weapons: Wave always carries the Blade Of The Artic Wolf, a weapon given to him by his great grand-father. This blade is stronger than diamond, while thin enough too cut between a treelimb and a catipillar, without harming the catipillar. When powered up, the blade calls a Levithan, a sea dragon capable of creating floods, to Blade's aid.
Armor : All water elf's carry a blue and gold robe, made from Levithan Scales, with are twice as strong as diamond. This robe is what allows Wave to breathe underwater.
Skills: Wave Posseses' the abilty to control all forms of water, witch he can use to attack or heal. When his sword is fully charged, he summons a levthan to aid him. Wave can communicate with sea anmals, witch he can use for an army. Wave posses a strange mirror withch he can travle to different universes
Strength: Wave is fast, inttelgent, and nice. He is always up for a fight when danger calls. His sword can Pierce diamond with one slash, and he can not take damage easily.
Special Attacks: Same' Cina' : Wave chargesat an enemy, dissapering and attacking, repeating three times.
Reduce and convert: Wave diminishes his magic and converts it to health.
Second Sword: wave creates a sword out of water.
REVERSE SLICE:Wave spins in a slash, the immeditaly reverses it, for an added boost of power.
Weakness: Wave's abilites can be shorted out by energy based sorses, witch increases his attack but severy lowers his defense. Girls
Appearnce: Tall and slender. He always dons a blue robe harder then diamond. Spiked/curved blue hair. A golden seath holds his sword, which resembles a wolf. People never see him very long, unless he likes you, that is.
Personality:Wave can be pretty nice, and eager to help. he simply hates being hated, and is mostly likley to destroy you if you're not careful
OTHER ABILITES Include
1: Enchantment: For a price, Wave can enchant Wepans, armor, etc. with water, for use even after a battle has ended.
2Wish grant: Like all water Elves, Wave is bestowed tohe power to grant a wish
3: Scan: wave can scan oppents, enlisting magic, their history, etc.
Bio: Wave is a water elf with strong reflexs and a quick mind, making him very dangerous. THe Elf concil noted wave's stregth at an early age, and bannished him to earth. As he left, He recived the Blade Of THe Artic Wolf, and the robe of the water elves, from his Father. Since then, Wave has been traing under the Pacific Ocean, RIght next to Massachutes, America. He has solved many mysteries of the ocean. He hates being seen by humans, so when a submarine or ship comes by, he sinks. The people who have seen and lived have blamed him for creating the iceburg that sunk the Titanic. Years later, A terrible, magical strom struck the ocean, revealing a mystic portal mirror. Wave takes the Mirror and warps to his own dimension. Once he revives, he storms the Elf concil and obliterates eevrylast one the members with his sword. He summons his levithan to destory the city, Leaving Wave free to explore new lands...

He eventually reaches Great britain, where magic hangs in the air. He arrived in an area around stonehenge, before it was destroyed. People were dancing around the area, until Wave showed up, and the stared in fright.
The women ducked under the a table chanting, "get away, demon, you are not welcome here!"
This startled Wave, he had neve been called a demon before, and it angred him. " I am no demon", He replied
Now the men drew their weapons at wave, threating to stab him,
"do not lie to us, it will not work!!!! We saw you warp in here!!!!!", they said.
Wave drew his sword and pointed it at the people. "I implore you, do not anger me!!"
Everyone just laughed. By this time the local priest arived chanting his holy magic at Wave.
It was around this time when Wave went beserk, calling upon his water magic, frezzing the priest. Then, with a quick motion, cut him in two. Wave turned on the other people, and began a massacre, destroying the men.
Wave called upon his levithan. "finish this, but leave a few scarps to know this place was destroyed by a master. With that, he vanished once again.

Approved by Ratha-sama, who is the greatest person ever!

Name: Zachary Leos
Age: 17
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Hair: Flame like red and is in a bowl cut style.
Eyes: brown
Weight: 145 lbs
Height: 5’7’’ (In feet)

Weapon: Magnarune: A rune blade forged by the demon forge master and given to Zachary by the former Demon lord, Magnus, who then disguised himself as a human to give it to the boy. The sword is four feet- three feet for the blade and one foot for the hilt- and is surprisingly light because it was forged, not out of magic, but out of demonic energy, although Zach still needs two hands to wield it. The blade of the sword is like a giant triangle that moves to a very sharp point, and has several light blue runes running along the blade. Aside from the runes, the blade and hand guard is a dull gray color. The handle is black with golden trim upon it, and the hand guard is ‘U’ shaped. The sword enhances Zach’s abilities with ice magic by a good deal, and acts as a medium that he can summon ice from to use for magic. The sword also carries a piece of Magnus’ soul in it, so he can whisper to the boy as long as the youth carries it.

Zach also carries a dagger at his side that he uses as either a last line of defense or as a throwing knife, although he doesn’t have much skill in throwing the foot long dagger.

Armor: None

Strengths: His sword allows him to summon ice, no matter where he is. Being an ice elementalist, he has developed amazing skill with controlling the form of the ice he summons and his powers grow stronger in the cold. He has a good amount of magical energy, despite his age, and is always learning new things he can do with his ice magic. His greatest power is that when he is knocked out, Magnus can take over his body, though only for a short while, and fight for him. He has good accuracy with his ice.

Weaknesses: Despite his skill with magic, his sword skill are lacking. He can fight with his sword, but only in basic style, making him weak vs. any person who is skilled in melee weapons. Despite his affinity with ice magic, he cannot make anything larger then an ice shard about the size of a baseball without suffering from the mental strain of maintaining the form and using it. Despite Magnus being able to control him, and having more control over the ice element and being a better swordsman, he is still limited by the shape Zach was in when he was rendered unconscious.

Skills/Magics:

Hyper Frozen Weapons: A skill adapted by Zachary during his battle with Louis Fritz. The verteran's skill proved to be great, and forced Zachary to think on his feet, but it was the setting that was memorable. Because of the icy domain the two fought in, Zachary learned to wield the frozen, arctic winds to his advantage and combine them with his sword's runic energy, allowing him to create weapons of a dark blue ice that are as strong as steel. This skill can only be used in areas that are very cold or frozen, and it is very energy intensive, so Zachary uses it rarely, even in those conditions.

Arctic Winds: During Zachary's adventures in the north, he learned about the frozen winds of the far north, and also how to use them to his advantage. Now, whereever he travels, it seems the winds follow him, even if it is only slightly, and he can control the little bit that follow him to his advantage to lower the temperature in an area. This skill takes time and is nearly worthless in very warm or dry places.

Ice Shard: Zach summons ice from Magnarune and forms it into a very sharp ice spike and throws it at his target. The larger the ice shard, the more concentration it takes to form and throw, so Zach tends to make this move no larger then a baseball. This skill takes little magic to use, but it depends on how large Zach makes the shard. Zach creates and controls these with his mind, and throws them by moving his arm as if he was throwing a ball.

Ice Sword: Zach uses the runes and energy in his sword and creates a sharp blade around his Magnarune, making his attacks more deadly and causes a good deal of pain because the ice causes very low level of frostbite when it comes in contact with the skin. Although, when he uses this attack, he cannot use anymore magic because the runes are frozen over, making it impossible to summon the magic from them.

Ice Knife Storm: Zach’s strongest attack. He summons a several number of small Ice shards from Magnarune and then forms them into about four inch knives. He normal creates between five and seven of these and throws them at his foe with great force. This attack takes a huge amount of focus and drains a good amount of energy, so he normally saves it for the worst of emergencies.

Ice Needle Barrage: An attack learned by Zachary whilst he did battle with the demi-angel Kellson the first time. He's spent some time tweaking this ability. This ability creates needs about four inches long and very thin out of the youth's ice. Zachary can control up to about fifty of these before the strain becomes too bad from the high strain of manipulating all of the needles at once. This attack, as Zachary learned, is most effective in an area with a large quantity of liquid, because it makes it easier to create large numbers of the needles. This attack's main drawback is the time it takes to make the needles because they must be created in groups of about ten, and also this can cause a major strain on Zachary's mind if he is being attacked while creating the needles.

Flash Freeze: An attack learned by Zachary during his time spent in training. Zachary has learned to release ice from the runes of his sword into whatever the blade hits and cause whatever was struck to freeze almost instantly after the blade connects. This attack can be very draining and quickly takes a good amount of magical energy to use, although it can be deadly.

Magnus: When Magnus forged this sword, he put part of his soul into it, and use it to whisper into Zach’s mind, slowly corrupting him and taking taking him over. Although Zach doesn’t know Magnus is talking to him, ever, he does receive the signals that the demon lord sends him subliminally. The greatest power that Magnus holds of Zach is that he can move Zach’s body like a puppet. When this happens, the runes on Magnarune glow dark blue, rather then their normal light blue, and the boy’s eyes turn purple. Magnus is a much stronger swordsman and has much greater magical control then Zach, but can only control the boy for about ten minutes. All wounds incurred upon Zach are in full effect when Magnus controls the boy, and he cannot push Zach’s body harder then its limit (Example: If Zach has a wounded leg, he’d still limp to move around.)

Here are skill only Magnus can use:

Ice Rock: A much stronger version of Zach’s ice shard, and is usually the size of a basketball. He summons a very sharp rock of ice and throws it as his foe with a good deal of speed. Unlike Zach, Magnus can summon two or three of these at a time.

Frostblade: Magnus creates a visible vapor around his sword that freezes whenever he cuts something. Any sword attacks that hit while this aura is up causes frost to instantly develop over the cut, closing it up, but causing massive amounts of pain. While this is up, Magnus can still use other magics.

Ice Rain: Magnus summons ten to fifteen Ice Shards and shape them like eight inch daggers and throws them at his target at an astoundingly high speed. This attack is hard for even Magnus to do because it takes time to summon and form, along with the amazing strain on Zach’s magical energies. Magnus, even though he is a proud demon, will only use this attack in the worst of situations.

Personality: Zach: Zach is a young man who enjoys traveling and adventuring. He is a kind hearted, open minded boy who would rather travel a mountain range then fight the monster that lives in it. In battle, he is clever and tactful, seeing as he lacks the battle training of most warriors. He uses his sword as much as he can so he can learn how to wield the weapon better. His great love of his ice magic makes him practice it in his free time, and he is always trying to sharpen his skills with the gray blade.

Magnus: The Demon Lord is evil, by every means of the word. He is always using Magnarune to tell Zach to do something bad, or stir up trouble. Although Zach does not always listen, because most of Magnus’ orders are subliminal, Zach normally will listen. When fighting, Magnus is always a loud mouth and always talks big and shoots off his mouth, and is not afraid to throw his, or to be more exact Zach’s, magic around. Despite thinking of Zach as a tool, he does protect him because he is a servant and uses him as such. The Demon Overlord is a skilled swordsman and a magical expert, making him much stronger then Zach.

Appearance: Now with a very awesome picture done by Altamira-sama. You are purely awesome!

Zach is a red haired, young man who’s face still holds his younger years. His ‘baby face’ makes him the target of many girls who enjoy that kind of thing. He is of average build and wears a dark blue sweater that has a white snowflake sewn upon it. He wears a light blue T-shirt under his sweater. His pants are red with blue lines drawn along the sides of them, and both have four pockets on each side. His sword is strapped to his left side, and is in a black, leather sheath that he has had for as long as he has owned the sword. His eyes are normally brown, but when Magnus takes over, his eyes become purple.

History: Magnus, the former Demon Lord, was born the years after the Demonic Wars ended. While he grew up, the demon youth became entranced in the dark arts and began working with his demonic magic. During his lifetime, he quickly learned skills with a sword, and became nearly a swords master. The demon quickly rose through the ranks of demonic society until he was nearly a Demonic Overlord. The time was coming that he would attempt to take the power of a Demonic Overlord from another, and he was going to do it, no matter what happened.

Finally, Magnus decided the time had come, and headed to the realm of Narkin, the Demonic Overlord of the city that Magnus lived in, and he wanted to rob Narkin of that power. The demon appeared at the lords house and drew his sword and kicked the door in, stepping into the temple like home of the overlord. The lords guard attacked, and Magnus destroyed them with ease, using only one spell, but after he had wiped them out, Magnus found a sword in his chest. As life was leaving, Magnus made one last bid, gathering up all of the darkness he could and blasting his foe, draining the soul energy from the other demon.

Magnus awoke some time later, but was not what he had been when he had fallen asleep. His power had grown greatly, and he had now obtained the powers of the dark lord, but had been weakened by the conflict. It mattered not, for his power would return in time, and the demon took his seat as the overlord of the realm.

The demon lord ruled unopposed for several years, slowly regrowing to his full power and making all the demons below him serve his needs, but something dark was growing near. One night, the demon lord had a dream where he was slain by a faceless man with green hair and a golden sword. The dream caused the Demonic Overlord to awaken in a cold sweat, and he began using all of his resources to find out who this man was. Before long, the people became angry at the Demon and removed him from power, exiling him to the land of outcast demons, Verron.

While in Verron, the answer to Magnus’ question were still evaded, but he found a man who could help him. A demon forge master who had been forging a weapon with special powers for a long time. The demon hunted this man down and the two sat down to have a discussion.

“So, you have heard of my work,” the forge master spoke.

“Yes.”

“And you desire that I give my newest tool to you? Why do you desire it?”

“I need it to help me find a man I saw in one of my dreams... My dreams tell me he will kill me. Please help me,” the exile requested.

“I shall do more then lend you my tool, I will let you enter the human realm and find a pawn to test it on. All I need is some of your blood, once I have that, I can give you the sword. After that, head to the human realm and find a worthy pawn, and then learn what you must. I give you this tool as a deal though. When you find the man who is to kill you, you must destroy him yourself, and not have the one you are to make a pawn do it. Do you understand one another?”

“Yes, Master forger,” the Demon spoke as he took the sword.

***o=)---------- ----------(=o***

In the long years while Magnus remained in exile, looking for an ideal servant, one was born. Zachary Leos, a boy born to a pair of peasant parents came into the world. The boy lived the normal life of people of his class: hard work, learning a trade, and finally trying to find a place in the world. Despite the hard work, he still had fun as a young child in the northern, snow fielded lands of Arc.

At the age of ten, Zach was busy gather timber when a bunch of snow nearly fell on him. He held his hand up and the snow didn’t hit him; when he looked up, he found that the snow had stopped in its place, and he soon learned that he had some control over snow, and more specifically, ice.

The boy spent a good deal of his time learning about his power: changing snow into ice, changing the shape of ice, making the ice into small tools and weapons and other things absorbed him as he grew up, slowly mastering the basics of his power.

One day, the boy’s mother found him, and she was surprised. She, herself, was an ice elementalist, and she was happy to learn her power had passed on to her son, and she did what she could to aid him in his years with her to master his skills.

At the age of fifteen, that all changed though; one day, when the boy returned him from his work with his father, the two found a vicious looking demon killing their mother, and the father moved to stop him, but soon burst into purple flames and disappeared from all existence. Magnus had been watching the boy and was planning to make Zachary his pawn, all he had to do was wait for the boy to grow into a useable age. At the ripe age of fifteen, the demon ripped his family from him, and the boy swore revenge, attacking the demon with some of his power, but he did little more then anger the monster. Magnus fled before he caused any damage to the young boy, and waited.

Zachary, now an orphan, wandered the streets for about a year, using his powers and some thieving skills he picked up to make a living. Finally, the demon felt it was time to take his puppet. To think it all started with a simple...

“Hello,” a hooded figure said as he moved towards the ice elementalist.

“Hello sir... Um... Why are you here?” the boy asked, keeping a close eye on the man.

“I am here to give you something; something you desire more then your own life. I am here to give you the power to avenge your parents,” the cloaked man told him, pulling out a weapon from his cloak.

“What is that,” the boy looked at this odd man, reaching his hand out. He had not fully been listening, and all the orphan wanted to know is what was under the cloth.

“A tool! Something that will help you,” the man said as he thrust the sword into the red head’s arms.

“Thank you, kind sir! But, why are you giving this to me?!”

“Because, it will help us both,” the cloaked man said, smiling under his cloth and vanishing into the darkness.

The boy removed the cloth and unveiled the sword. He stared at it blankly for a while, and then headed off, still holding onto the strange sword. As the boy carried around the rune blade, he learned it held special powers, namely that he could use it to summon up ice from the runes, a handy skill for an ice elementalist. Time worked its way forwards, as it always did, and one year past. The pieces of the puzzle, and the pieces of fate were falling into place. The time had come, the scene was set, and the battle raged.

***o=)---------- ----------(=o***

The boy walked along the road towards a city; the snow fell idly as he moved from where he had just been, where the dark voice from his sword had caused him to start up a riot for no reason at all. Something was bothering the demon lord, and he watched the road as the boy walked past a man who wore all green with a green hood that hid his face. The boy stopped and watched as this strange man passed and placed his hand his sword, wondering about this odd man.

The instant the man fell into the demon’s view, and the demon saw the man’s silver hilted sword, he knew, without a doubt, this man was the person he was looking for. He held up his hand, and decided it was time to test his power and his sword skills. Zach, remove that man’s hood, you know you want to know who he is, the demon whispered to the boy.

I should find out who he is, the boy told himself as he drew his sword and formed an Ice Shard and threw it at the green cloaked man.

The hooded man turned to see the ice flying he side stepped, but his hood fell off, revealing his green hair. “What are you doing?” The man asked.

“I’m here to stop you, I can sense you are a bad man!” The boy roared, charging at the green haired man. The demon’s whispers were working all to well, and the boy was taking each piece like it was a piece of food.

The green cloaked man grabbed the hilt of his sword and drew his golden blade, guarding and overhead swing from the rune blade the boy used. “Not a good idea,” the man with the golden sword spoke.

“You’ll pay for what you have done,” the boy told the swordsman, forming more ice in his hand and throwing another Ice Shard at the man, who stepped back and threw a white wave of air, deflecting the shards with ease.

“Sorry, but you’ll need to do better then that,” the green haired fighter told the boy, charging at him with full speed. The green cloaked man seemed to vanish as the younger swordsman turned, swinging his sword and deflecting a vertical slash by the man. the boy stumbled back and fell to the ground, looking up at the man.

“I won’t lose,” the boy roared, using his power to create his Ice Knife Storm, which he fired. Albeit all the knives seemed to have hit, the sound of them striking metal and shattering were heard as the boy looked up, his eyes wide. “I won’t!” He shouted as his sword suddenly became enveloped in ice. “Die you bastard!” the red haired swordsman stated as he charged and swung a downward arc at the mysterious swordsman.

The green haired man smiled and quickly moved, deflecting the sword and shattering the ice that surrounded the sword. With a quick move, the fencer had kneed the boy in the chest, throwing him far back. “Be more careful whom you attack,” the man warned, offering a kind smile to the boy. “You may not be a match for him.”

The boy grew more and more angry, trying to find his sword that he had lost when he had been attacked. “You... I’ll make you pay!” The boy screamed as the man turned away. “Where are you going?!”

“Where I was headed before you stopped me,” the green cloaked man stated as he continued walking. Suddenly, he stopped; “I have just one question,” the man began, “that being, what is your name?” The green haired fighter asked.

“I am Zachary Leos, and you’d best remember that name, considering I will be writing your name on your grave!” He stated angrily. “What is your name, if we are on that subject?!” The boy asked, still very angry.

“My name is Zorlo, the fencer of Tasogare,” the man with the golden rapier stated as he sheathed it. “And I am sure I will see you again,” the Aura Master told the boy as he vanished in the shroud of snow.

“I’ll get you one day Zorlo!” The boy yelled angrily as he lay in the snow. From that day forwards, he swore to hunt down the swordsman named Zorlo.

Battles:
Sea to Bloody Sea (Complete)
The Brink of Insanity Complete)
Dodging a Bullet on Butterfly Wings (In progress)
Through Ice and Air (In Progress)
Misadventures of the Minstrel - Northern Dojo (Complete)
At Least She isn’t the Only One That’s Crazy (In Progress)
The Nightmare Begins (Complete)
The Magician and the Misfit (In Progress)
Alterum Exordium (In progress)
The Reluctant Alliance X2 (In Progress)

Approvedeth by teh Ranarath.

Name: Tuariv

Age: 16

Race: Who knows...

Sex: Male

Hair: None

Eyes: Blue with slit pupils

Weight: 217 pounds

Height: 7' 5''

Weapon: A crystal claymore, secretly holding great power within it which Tuariv has trained with for a long time now. He can also attack with his sharp claws, teeth, and use his tail as a good concussive weapon.

Armor: His only armor are his scales, though they are extremely durable and tough as steel.

Strengths: Tuariv has heightened senses and superhuman strength.

Weakness: His weakness is in his very blood, his blood being cold, so he can be frozen solid fairly easily. However not only can ice freeze him, but his sluggish nature and heavy body slow him down greatly, thus why heavier blows are necessary.

Skills/Magic:

Twilight: Tuariv creates a bubble that grows in size and covers the immediate area in a bubble of evening light, it is neutral in the elements and unstable. Its power can only be drawn off by Tuariv.

Great Lizard Form: After a Twilight bubble is created Tuariv can utilize this power, it increases his height and muscle mass to double, and increases his stamina, strength, and speed and allows body part regrowth in case of loss.

Lizard God Form: Requires immense amounts of power, but once utilized he becomes much stronger than his Great Lizard Form. He nearly disconnects his brain completely from his body, becoming totally psychotic and feels very little pain, whatever it may be.

His appearance shrinks back down to normal size and seemingly is in an absolute state of chaotic peace where he does not care about just about anything. He appears less muscle bound, allowing for speed increase, yet his power doesn't dwindle a bit.

Defense of the Chameleon: Tuariv completely blends in with his surroundings.

Heart Burn: Tuariv simply breathes fire for a couple seconds.

Appearance: Tuariv is extremely imposing, he has a chameleon like head and a long tail, covered from head to toe in green scales across his muscle bound body. He also has claws on his hands and claws on his feet, his tail is around four feet long with both legs being digitigrade. (backwards knees) He also has sharp teeth and a sort of long tongue. He keeps his claymore in a leather sheath and wears a necklace which is shaped of a sword.

When normally seen, he appears as nothing more than a large cloaked figure, hunched over under the thick cloth. Only when he feels like it or must, does he remove the cloak and stand at his full 7 foot five inch height. Tuariv wears a sleeveless black shirt along with a pair of long black pants under his cloak.

Personality: Tuariv isn't friendly in the least and can usually be found muttering nonsense to himself when alone with his usual tone being gruff.

Tuariv trains, a lot. He never stops forcing his body past the breaking point and probably never will, going as far as to fight with broken bones and shredded muscle. It has come to the point in his training that he does not consider himself a higher being than any mortal, rather one of the strongest mortals in the land.

Fighter Style: He has no real hand to hand combat style since he is self taught, thus making it more instinct driven and immensely hard to read. It is brutish overall and dangerous to everyone, including himself. This makes Tuariv's sword fighting style very out of character, it's like a fencers where less force is used and is softer and graceful.


Biography:

“Tuariv is a being with what many would consider the appearance of a monster, yet he simply refers to it as his 'cage', the cage which stole his life away.

Before he ever looked the way he does... he was insignificant, nothing beyond what you would call normal. That's when his curse and gift was forced upon him. I say curse and gift because it would depend on who you ask about what he is. Anyway... forests are pretty deadly ya know? They hold more than anyone would ever know, and show things to few. Let's just say that Tuariv was one of those few, whether he wanted to be or not.

Who knows where he went too, a gray and black place of death is what rumors say, an infectious place. Of course it's only rumors, and only religious fanatics would call it hell.

Who knows how much time he spent in there as well? But as far as everyone knows, he never returned to his home. Everyone always wondered what happened to his family...

Once Tuariv returned he found himself a monster with new found powers that he never even dreamed of before. It didn't take long though before Tuariv was forced to use this as a weapon, a devilish and greedy being of darkness wanted that kind of power despite it being Tuarv's and Tuariv's alone.

A rivalry started that day of his return to our world.

The young being did in fact live on after that, even going as far as to take on the life of a traveling fighter and mercenary. This kind of profession always attracts many different kinds of people, and in one case, a living place itself called the Dome.

I won't bother explaining this place, I think the rumors and legends are enough already.”

“Ooo ooo, but how was Tuariv after returning from that black place you describe?”

A massive figure cloaked in a mysteriously large and unrevealing cloak looked at a small child who was obviously drawn into the words of this person. “Nobody really knows, most think he's not quite right in the head. Now if you'll excuse me, my time here is up.”

There was a small 'aw' that went throughout the tiny crowd which was gathered in front of this person, but before he turned to leave the same boy piped up, “Wait mister! How do you know so much?”

The mysterious story teller lifted his cloaks head slightly, revealing two blue eye with slit pupils hidden in them. And with a short chuckle, he disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the small crowd with a gasp.

******************

Just reposting these old dudes.

Name: Zapri, The Gear Alchemist.

Age: 15

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Brown, long and messy

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 156 pounds

Height: 5' 8'

Weapon: Any he can think of, projectile things are harder though.

Armor: None.

Strengths: Zapri is capable of alchemy which is a science in which one can deconstruct, then reconstruct them into something new. Such as dirt, refined much, much harder into a dagger.

Weakness: Initially wears no armor, just simple clothes. Isn't to good at fighting directly against a person, such as sword to sword and such. Plus not to good with any specific weapon mainly because using weapons is not what he trains in.

Skills/Magic:

Zapri is one capable of using Alchemy, which is actually a science, not a magic. Utilizing it he can change almost anything, such as water into ice, or create a weapon out of the rocks beneath him. He simply claps his hands together and presses his hands to the ground, object, ect. For larger scale things however, a circle is required.

Varying from small-



To much larger and more complicated-



So Zapri always carries chalk and a swiss army knife to draw on different things just in case. If an enemy is not of human flesh then he can transmute them.

Appearance: Zapri isn't specially clad in any special garments, instead wearing simple sweats, short cut boots and a regular t-shirt topped off by a long fleece. His brown hair is only around three inches long, usually uncombed. A pocketwatch hangs from his belt into his pocket, with a transumtation circle carved on.

Personality: Zapri tends to be a real smartass, constantly talking back to everyone, when he's talked to. When not in conversation however, he'll often be quiet, mainly because random people don't just talk to him out of nowhere, and quite a few people hate alchemists is a reason too. If he has to fight then he'll be serious, but may taunt. Though Zapri doesn't like to just fight, and hates killing.

Biography:

Zapri was born and raised in Central City, the main Headquarters for all alchemists and government. Usually war was going on so Zapri was forced to learn how to use alchemy seeing as how it was the best way for one to survive. It was a hard time because of many warmongerers and the rumored humonculus were running about.

After a year of studying the science he was ready to become a State Alchemist. Zapri worked his way through the trials that were required to prove you were capable enough to be a true alchemist. Unfortuantly Zapri wasn't one of the few who passed that year.

Another year passed after that, not a week going by without Zapri reading a book on alchemy and trying to be better. When the next chance came for him to tryout, he did, and passed by impressing the judges with his own special move, by creating a working windup clock out of nothing but refined dirt. For this he was given the second name, Gear Alchemist.

Zapri was given an offcial State Alchemist pocketwatch, and now carries out order for the governement. Lately however the war has yet to cease, with such problems as even the president being a homunculus, warmongerers left and right, and massive groups of suits of armors appearing out of nowhere. For this reason Zapri has been laying low as of late, though still fufilling (sp?) his duties, but staying out of the fighting best he can. This however still threatens his staying a State Alchemist.



Product I.D.: Zero Class- MZ-15

Social Name: Loki

Age: 1

Race: Reploid

Sex: Male

Hair: Long brown

Eyes: Green

Weight: 237 lbs.

Height: 5' 7''

Weapon:

Buster- The basic weapon of both Reploids and Mavericks. Both of Lokis hands can be drawn into his arms and then shoot a mild, small, ball of energy. They can be overheated from constant continuess use in which case, recharging their system can take up to two minutes, because of this he'll usually just use one at a time. The busters can be purposly overheated to shoot a larger blast, but this puts recharge time to five minutes.

Energy Sabre: A sword weapon made up mainly of simple energy, wielded like any other regular sword. It is stored as just a simple hilt, but when used the sword will eject out of it.

Armor: Heavy, stainless, titainium. Basicly his own skin, so he will not often have any of it off.

Strengths: Loki, if you couldn't tell, is a robot. He is fairly strong, but not super strong. His reflexes are quick, and movement is extremely tricky, allowing him to first move one way, then another within a couple seconds. On the bottom of his soles he can eject small spikes, these are not often used for battle if ever, main purpose is for slippery conditions. Lokis visibility is top notch and can see in infarred, and night vision. And as a must, he is his own repair man and has a couple tools stored in secret compartments.

Weakness: If a piece of his armor is knocked off, then a powerful surge to his skeleton will fry his core. As a backup however, rubber flaps will cut off his backup power holding area. This is not to much though, at least to battle, so Loki must escape to recharge himself. He also can't swim. As well, if his armor is somehow penetrated, a direct cut into his skeleton would great damage him.

Skills/Magic:

Weapon Snatch: When Loki defeats an enemy he can gain an attack used by it. (robot enemies only)

Personality: Cool, near emotionless, and doesn't like to be interupted. He will show what is described as "kindness" however, though he just tends to do whatever he likes. Although a Reploid he almost considers himself neither that nor a Maverick, for both are just names the other uses for the opposites. For good to evil is evil, and evil to good, is evil. But the groups see what they're doing is good.

Appearance:





If I made it bigger it would just blur up, better if you zoom in on it for yourself.

History:

The fake X has been defeated by Zero and he has disappeared for now, the Reploid Resistance is growing in power with a guy named Elpizo. Zero however has been marked as the strongest Reploid by many, and so an attempt was made to make copies of him while he is gone. Not the smartest idea.

And so a small factory was made where careful design was calculated, and parts created. A robot dubbed Zero 2 was made, no problems. Then came more production of these Zero copies. After a while there were no problems what so ever, but later they slowly turned rogue. MZ-15 was one of the last made, and when programmed knew immediatly what the problem was, so on his own, with no orders to do so, he destroyed all production of the Zero 2s. Still though there were many, many left, it had almost been a mass production.

Loki is currently the only copy that isn't rogue, because of this he is still being used, but mainly just hunts the remaining copies. So far he has found and eliminated over one hundred and thirty, unfortuantly though, the records leftover from the factory say there was over five hundred.

Name: Veltian
Age: Unknown (appears to be about 26)
Race: Vampire
Gender: Male
Hair: Long, straight, and black. Parted in the middle and falling an inch or so past his shoulder.
Eyes: Grey
Weight: 120 pounds
Height: 6 foot 1
Weapon: His main and most common attacks use his arm, claws, and fangs. Occasionally, a gun or a small dagger.

The cross Veltian wears is a weapon he uses against other vampires. Crosses aren't necessarily vampire killers, they just can be USED to kill a vampire and protect yourself against them.

The thing on his arm is an effect from a stone he stole from someone. The stone was embedded in his arm and was what transformed him into a vampire. It can be used to turn his arm into a sword/spear. It begins on his elbow and extends three or so feet when he uses it.

Strengths: Being a vampire, Veltian is fast. His strength and endurance are unmatched by even some of the most athletic humans. He doesn’t need to breath.

His smell, eyesight, and hearing are highly increased. He uses all these to hunt down prey.

He has good aim with a gun. He brings down opponents from afar then runs after them and finishes them off.

Weakness: Sunlight doesn’t hurt him, as it is widely believed, but it does hinder his abilities. He tends to work alone, not trusting many, leaving him to be overwhelmed if the enemy is too strong for him.

His vampirism is very strong in him. He once tried his hardest to not give in, constantly watching himself. But his will was weak and the hunger became too much, turning him into nothing more than an animal. He loses judgment and will kill and drink the blood of anyone he finds, innocent or not, until he is satisfied.

Not drinking blood also weakens him.

Skills/Magic:
Sight: Makes an aura appear around a person to determine a person’s intentions. He sees them and knows when to believe someone or not. Also allows him to see clearly in the dark.

Rise: Lets him become lighter when he walks across a space of air, letting him glide to platforms. Can also be used to walk up walls and to jump easily.

Adrenaline: In junction with rise, he can move fast and avoid attacks as well as dangerous situations.

Twilight: He travels by literally sinking away into the shadows. He can also use this to hide from someone or escape.

Appearance:
http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/3...piremanfp6.jpg

Personality: Solitary. Veltian prefers to work alone for the most part. If you happen to meet him, don’t expect him to stick around long.

He doesn’t speak often. He is not shy by any means. He just chooses to be quiet and has little to say. Most of his responses are very short and curt.

He will hunt down and kill people for their blood. He gave up fighting it back long ago. He won’t mindlessly kill people, though. He chooses his prey very carefully.

Biography:
Veltian was alone now.

His companion, more so a guide, lay dead on the ground. And he was next.

He wasn’t allowed that escape.

He held the crimson jewel, the bloodstone, in his left hand. In his right, a gun.

He fired round after round at the figure that stood before him, garbed in a dark cloak. The third shot rang. Veltian let down the weapon. He saw that the figure still stood.

He raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. A hand struck out against him, taking hold of his wrist. The other grasped his throat.

He couldn’t break free. The red eyes glared into him, destroying him.

“Thief! Liar! DEMON!”

Veltian felt himself die. His heart stopped and his breath stilled.

His skin grew cold and pale.

Yet he was still there.

Venom. Poisonous venom pulsed throughout his body. He winced in pain, wishing, hoping for it to end.

Death had to be better then this.

The pain stopped. His eyes were opened. The figure disappeared. He saw the world gain. It was the same, yes, but more.

He stumbled around, lost and confused.

He lost memory of everything before that.

He fell asleep. And when he woke up, there was only a thirst.

“Blood…”

He could smell it. He saw the shadows traveling along the walls. Veltian jumped out and grabbed the man, choking him, then throwing him to the ground. He jumped on top of him and clawed his chest.

He sunk his fangs into his shoulders.

Blood, pulsing crimson streaming into his mouth.

Hours passed, and he was satisfied. He looked down at the body. He stared down the dead corpse, not believing what he did. And what he had become.

Months passed. He starved himself, from both the food of humans and vampires.

He went insane.

He knew that who he was. He could never be human again.

More months passed, almost half a year.

He sniffed the air.

A village was nearby…
***
Blood. Screams. Death.

Veltian was satisfied. He licked the remaining blood from his lips and began to walk.



Battles:
Terror Takes Your Breath Away (dropped)
Dodging a Bullet on Butterfly Wings (dropped)

Name:

Thalasin

Age:

20

Race:

Human/A little bit of Elf background

Sex:

Female

Hair:

Long, brown, wavy, and she keeps it braided most of the time.

Eyes:

Blue/green/grey. A little bit of each colour. Her eye colour seems sort of to change depending on the light.

Weight:

60 kg.

Height:

181 cm.

Weapon(s):

Thalasin has a mage’s rod that she carries with her at all times. It is infused with her magic, but she can also fight with it as if it were a quarterstaff. A gem tops it, which acts as a channel for her magic. The rod also can amplify the amount of magic Thalasin can use before she exhausts herself. Although the Warrior Mages (and other Mages) are almost treated as nobility, Thalasin still took time to learn knife-fighting, which many other of her fellow Mages would frown upon. She carries a knife with her at all times, and has a few more hidden throughout her clothing. She also knows a little bit of hand-to-hand combat.

Armour:

A simple hardened leather vest underneath her mage’s robes but over the top of her shirt. It has a few protective spells woven onto it.

Strengths:

Although Thalasin has been trained to use knives and to fight a little bit with a quarterstaff and to fight hand-to-hand, her primary strength is her magic, and she always will use that first. She prefers to use magic as she can use it from a distance and she doesn’t have to risk an opponent getting in a lucky stab, blow, or kick. Thalasin’s strongest defence is her reflexes. She always had quick reflexes when she was training to be a Warrior Mage, and daily practice keeps her sharp. Her Elf blood also adds to her quickness and

Weakness:

Thalasin’s biggest weakness is things she fears. She has an unreasonably strong fear of spiders, and she is claustrophobic. She hates the thought of anyone doing anything to those she loves. Her biggest weakness on the battlefield is her tendency to use magic first, because as much as it is her strong point, it often tires her out, and she is left with not as much stamina and not as quick reflexes.

Skills/Magic:

Thalasin’s strongest area of magic is her battle magic, her second strongest her ability to communicate with animals and the fact that she is in tune with nature, and her weakest ability is healing: she only knows enough to heal minor wounds; if somebody were dying she would be close to helpless. Her battle magic includes spells to weaken another Mage’s magic, she can dull her opponents blades (but this has not always worked for her), and she can install fear in an opponent’s heart so that they would not have the will to keep fighting, she can also build a shield around herself and a companion that will confuse her opponent and make it so that they can’t see her (this only works, though, if they are unaware that she is there), and she can also block some damage with her magic. Thalasin can also call up animals to her aid, but has never been able to shape-shift and take the form of one, since her nature magic has never been particularly strong. She can also heal some injuries that she herself has sustained, but it takes time that she would not often have while fighting. She also knows some spells to wound, maim or kill, but would only use those as a last resort.

Appearance:

Thalasin has blue-green-grey eyes. Her lashes are not that long, but they are not short. Her skin is a normal colour; a little bit tanned but not overly, but her natural skin colour isn’t pale or necessarily that dark. Her chin has a certain set to it which dictates that she is naturally stubborn. Her eyebrows are thin, and she has never been one for making herself look beautiful. Her nose is straight and a little bit turned down. Her ears are pointed, a trait of her Elf blood. Her long hair is almost always braided, and hangs down her back, with little curls springing off it here and there.

She doesn’t have a shapely figure, but one built around muscle. Customarily, she always wears her mage’s robes: loose, baggy robes (with a hood) of black linen, trimmed at the bottom once in orange to show she is a Warrior Mage, and another strip of purple to show her rank. The wide leather belt strapped around her waist supports her belt knife, long but not unusually so, and its hilt is engraved with her symbol: an eagle perched on a mage’s rod, wings outstretched. The blade has ancient runes inscribed on it which say, ‘Iyura ju hemigh Guerio Majje!’ Translated: ‘Fear the mighty Warrior Mage!’

Underneath her robes she wears her hardened leather vest, on top of a simple shirt. She wears practical linen breeches and leather boots, to allow maximum movement. If it comes down to hand-to-hand fighting, Thalasin will usually pull off her mage’s robes, usually with a simple spell. Her height and slimness are also characteristics of her Elf background. She always carries her mage’s rod with her: it is carved with intricate swirling patterns, and the crystal on top is held in place with carved claws, much like those that hold jewels on pendants. Thalasin would have had something less extravagant, but her teachers had insisted that someone of her capabilities have something suitable to their rank.

A long scar runs along the side of her belly, an old wound from when her magic was depleted and she couldn’t defend herself. It still has not fully healed; from time to time the side will open.



Personality + Biography:
(Note: I mixed these together because I realised that they were sort of meshed together, in this case. Tell me if I should separate them.)

Thalasin was born into a noble family, who lived in the capital city of their country, Thaesia. Her parents always dreamed of her being a perfect noble lady, and they dreamed of her being one of the few put down as a possible bride for the Crown Prince. Thalasin dreamed differently. Her parents’ grand home was only a few streets away from the palace, and the palace was near the Mage’s study area. That included the College of Warrior Mages. Everyday, Thalasin, when her parents thought she was at the palace with the other young ladies, would sneak out to the College and watch the Mages practicing.

By no means were Thalasin’s parents cold, abusive, or in any other way mean to their daughter. Her parents possibly were the kindest to her she could have hoped for. They were just ignorant of what she wanted; very much ignorant. They knew that Thalasin had magic, as her father was a Mage himself, but the only use they put it to was healing and training her abilities in nature.

Every day Thalasin went to the College of Warrior Mages, and eventually somebody noticed the young girl sitting by the edge of the practice fields. He was the master of the Warrior Mages, and since the College accepted girls and encouraged them to join, he began teaching her to use battle magic and to use a quarterstaff. Of course, when Thalasin’s parents found out, they were devasted. In order not to cause them more grief, Thalasin moved into the College.

From her years in the College Thalasin made all her closest friends, and some of her worst enemies. Thalasin keeps in contact with all her friends from the College, or she tries to, as now they are all Warrior Mages and go where Her Majesty, the Queen, commands. When she graduated from the College, her parents gradually stopped seeing her, but her two brothers kept in contact with her. One, her older brother, went on to be a scholar at the Royal University, and her younger brother went to a different area of study in magic.

Thalasin’s closest friend is her familiar, Jorra. Jorra is a giant eagle who accompanies her almost everywhere. He is wise and clever, and came to her as a young chick that she reared to full health after he was almost dying, her magic changing him until he was as smart as any human. She released him into the wild but he wouldn’t go, saying to her that he would rather stay with her.

Thalasin doesn’t worship a god or a goddess. Neither does she criticize anyone for believing in one, because she believes strongly that everyone has a right to do what they want with their life and believe what they want. She has a strong streak of righteousness, so if she sees groups of people she thinks are being oppressed, she, more often than not, will act straightaway.

Although Thalasin has a home in the College, and the Queen has more than once offered to have her stay in the Palace as her friend, Thalasin likes to be on the road, going places, seeing things. At the moment she is travelling through the desert east of her home country, seeking a truly powerful Mage whom she hopes to learn some skills from to further her training.

Thalasin is easy going, but if she gets angered, she takes a while to calm down. She is sometimes emotional, but not as much as she was when she was younger; even though sometimes her emotions get the better of her, she is usually calm and collected and keeps her head. She reacts well to surprises in battle, because of her training. Her strongest fear is of spiders. Thalasin dislikes fair-weather friends; it makes her incredibly angry that people are only friends with others because of their wealth or fame.

She is usually wary of strangers, but relaxes as she gets to know them a bit better. Thalasin is polite to people, and always is accepting of who they are, no matter where they come from and their background – another thing she can’t stand is racism or sexism. Those two types of taunts always push her over the edge into anger; she can’t help it.

Thalasin has achieved her little girl dream: becoming a Warrior Mage. Her biggest dream now is that one day the known world would live in peace without poverty, slavery, oppression, or unfair justice, and even though she knows its probably unlikely she can do huge amounts to help, she does help whenever she can, putting in a little here and a little there.

To this day, Thalasin roams the lands, seeking pockets of unfair oppression by overlords and nobility on serfs or peasants; this is getting harder and harder as Thalasin has built quite a reputation as a warrior of justice, but now and then there are a few nobles foolish enough to hand out unfair treatment to their servants. She always heeds the Queen’s call, however, and returns to her home city as her Queen desires.

Name: Joker he is Joker he be

Age: 18

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Ice blue hair that hangs to between his shoulder blades and tied in a queue at the base of his neck. He has a fringe parted over his right eye and his hair is spiky and uneven, many strands failing to be restrained by his hair tie.

Eyes: Deep purple with a light blue ring around his pupils.

Weight: 80kg

Height: 5ft8”

Weapon: Twin daggers and anything from his current surroundings

Strengths: Confusing people, using jester tricks to get out of trouble and avoiding certain issues he doesn’t want to confess to. Quick thinking and reaction times.

Weakness: Low endurance. Wouldn’t hold up in a war but he will get his way through a small skirmish if he’s lucky. He’s more accustomed to bar room brawls and alley fights.

Skills/Magic: Can control people’s dreams. This is a skill that would only really be useful if he was given time to give them the proper amount of attention. Some people who have been visited from him wake insane from the horrors he bestows upon them.

He can also rip portals to and from the dream realm wherever he is as opposed to going there in his sleep. A side effect from this is that instead of his astral body going there his physical body goes as well, meaning if he dies in a dream... he’ll die permanently.

Appearance: Middling of height he has dark golden skin that contrasts with the icy blue locks of hair that frame his face so haphazardly.

His eyes are vivid against his face, the icy ring that surrounds his pupil causes disconcert among those who meet his gaze.

He tends to wear pale long sleeved shirts with high collars that are unbuttoned to show off his chest, a long, dark flowing vest with contrasting embroideries and black fitting pants that are tucked into baggy boots that are very comfortable and light. He also has a leather wristband carved with a flowing feather like symbol given to him by Kinrei and an earring on his left ear.

Personality: Joker is of a most cheery outlook. He lives up to his name with his antics and skills at annoying and entertaining those in his vicinity, although some cause of this irritation is from how he continually refers to himself in the third person.

He enjoys surprising people with his randomness, and loves flirting outrageously with people who it will upset the most. He doesn’t discriminate either; he’ll flirt equally with males, females, the un-dead and non-human.

Normally he brushes insults and close calls off as nothing, preferring to continue with his life with as little care as possible. That being said, there are things that bring out the more serious side of his personality, namely endangerment to himself or things he cares most about. Naturally he keeps such things close to his chest.

He is also tenacious, if you withhold something from him that he really wants to know he will pester you as much as he can til he gets it out in the open.

Biography: Joker was born in the busy city of Aramiel to wealthy parents who own a great share of land in the state. As he grew up he never thought it was strange that when he closed his eyes to sleep he would be transported to another realm, a place where he could alter the dreams of those who wandered past on the dream roads.

When he told his parents of such things they mistook it for the imaginations of a young boy growing up in a place where anything he wanted was given to him, and so they played along and were never the wiser to his powers. As he grew older he realised what he could do was not so commonplace and he cherished his ability to leave and explore worlds of his own creation as well as being able to share those worlds with the dreamers. Yet his power had a burden, he realised that he could bring happiness to some and destruction on others as his dreams played with their psyches.

Thankfully he isn’t as morally corrupt as most rich people are, thanks to his one time fiancée: Kinrei de Moncrieff. Oddly enough she wasn’t rich as he was, she was quite the average girl down the street. Except that she could also walk the dream paths with Joker and she was an insomniac making her quite bitter to everyone who could sleep. When Joker met her as a child he’d been drawn to her for her temper and her animosity and from her he learned not everyone was so lucky as him. He does continue to keep contact with her, even if he only gets monosyllabic responses or, if they meet in the dream realm, a punch in the gut and insults.

So again, thanks to her steadying as much of his personality as she could, Joker is more or less emotionally stable and socially acceptable... to a point. He is hyperactive and friendly to people, kind of like a very enthusiastic puppy.

At the moment he is free from all obligations from school and home so now he has decided to spend his time travelling both the dream realm and that of the mortal realm, although his primary interest is that of the former. He is not the only Dream Weaver out there and he wants to see other worlds that have been created.

~~~~~

“Cha~ra~ra~! Joker appears~!” Joker pops in behind HitokiriChibi’s shoulder and, taking advantage of her momentary surprise, pushes her out of the control seat and settles in to read what has been written about his glorious self.
He reads.
He smirks.
His eyes widen in horror and a small gasp escapes his lips as he turns to stare accusingly at the sprawled form of HitokiriChibi.
“You...” Joker’s voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, near unrecognisable to the light tenor in which he’d announced himself. He raised his arm slowly, pointing one slim finger at HitokiriChibi.
“You forgot to say Joker be HANDSOME!!!” The last ended on a high note as he grabbed a pillow and started whacking her over head.

Joker is handso- Joker be VERY handsome and everyone loves Joker!!!!

The end.

Hope you enjoyed and approve of Joker =P

Here is my first RPG character ever, and I'm so glad he got approved. His link is in my signature so feel free to check up on him.

Name: Rorand Terin
Age: Appears to be about 17 in human years, doesn't age as slow as elves (half human)
Race: Elf/Human
Sex: Male
Hair: Golden blonde-silver streaked
Eyes: Hazel
Weight: 185 lbs
Height: 6-2in

Weapons:
Fate-Destiny, a longsword that splits down the middle, capable of separating into two blades, blue shine to it, magical abilities include: separating and joining together, incredibly sharp edges that cut through most metals and armors, hardly scratches or breaks. Oakwood bow and quiver, steel tipped arrows, no enchantments.

Armor:
A blue and gold threaded traveling hooded cloak which conceals his golden-greenish jerkin which is placed with a special anti-darkness and fireproof ward, over a chainmail shirt and greaves. Leather bracers, steel gauntlets which can increase his strength of his blows without a weapon, boots that prevent him from slipping in difficult terrain (wilderness).

Strengths:
Great swordsmanship, and spellcaster. Not too balanced at archery, only used as a last resort. Naturally quick, strong, focused senses, immunity to disease and detect common poisons.

Weakness:
Doesn't fare well against many archers at once or many spellcasters at once, afraid of large conflict wars, refuses to fight female characters or friends at any cost. Will not harm or kill unless pushed or driven to. Fire is a fear as well.

Skills/Magic:
Basic and intermediate elemental spells (except fire spells) such as, water blast, wind gale, etc.
Focusing calm: A defensive spell which slowly slows the time around him, making everything easier to see and dodge, for a short 5 second span.
Beast Tame: Can control an animal's mind for a certain period of time and have it do whatever he wishes.
Protecting Vortex: Surrounds caster in a vortex repeling all projectile and physical attacks until disrupted with another magic attack or stopped.
Earthen/Natural/Ice/Water Binds: Depending on environment, can bend the nature's energy around an opponent, tentacles sprout, trapping them. Vunerable while casting.
Healing/Cure: Heals major wounds for himself and others, causing extreme exhaustion and is vunerable while casting.
Telekinesis/Mind Touch(Telepathy): Can speak to someone in their minds especially animals, move lightweight objects, arrows for example with his mind. Takes immense concentration though.
Camoflauge: Can blend in with his surroundngs due to his cooperation with nature and his elven wilderness training. Can only be used in a forested area.

Rorand's skills are adept wilderness survivavl. He can muster energy from the plant-animal life around him which sustains him without food, water, or sleep for at least two days only. He can blend ion only with a frested environment, speak telepathically with animals and have them do his bidding. Was taught to mix herbs by his mother. Able to make simple anti-poison remedies that heal minor wounds. His pet wolf, Wolven isn't just a pet. He is Rorand's best friend with a whole personality (received by being linked with Rorand for so long) and has his uses. He can catch and follow a scent very well, and is used as Rorand's scout and strategist.

Appearance:
Tall, lean, fair complection, wears green and gold dress jerking over sturdy chainmail, dons the gold and blue cloak to appear unarmed, Hair is long, but only reaches shoulders, covering pointed ears at most times. Oakwood bow is stored without the ivory-encased quiver, slung over his right shoulder. His blade(s) is fastened to a belt around his waist on his left hip.

Personality:
Mostly calm and easy going. Likes to joke, not too quick to anger and likes to be a pacifist. During a time of battle though, becomes very serious and tense. Doesn't like to be alone, but hides and flees whenever he becomes shy, but rarely. Rarely sad, always like to look on the bright side of life, but when his friends are threatened he again becomes tense and serious.

Biography:
He was born in a now ruined elven city, Dormuid in the Warded Forest. His elven mother, Tera, was a great herbalist, alchemist, and spellweaver. She taught Rorand how to heal most wounds and detect some common poisons. His father, Hayden, a human hunter/warrior, taught him the ways of the blade and how to survive in the wilderness by communicating with the plants and animals as well. He also showed him the basics of archery. Rorand had no siblings and not many human/elf friends. He treats animals as regular people and hates when people slaughter them for their appetite therefore, Rorand's a vegetarian.

One fateful day, his father and Rorand were practicing hunting when they came across a bandit camp. The bandits spotted them and attacked, sending an arrow toward Rorand, but his father quickly jumped in the way, the arrow plunging itself in his chest. Rorand became so sad, yet overcome with the lust for vengeance, he cast a firebolt at the bandit's camp, engulfing it in flames. But it had conseqeunces, it lit the forest on fire aswell. The remaining bandits fled, but now they were stranded in a burning forest. He dragged his dying father outside, when a burning tree collapsed and was about to crush them both. Hayden, with a hard cost, stumbled at pushed his son out of the way, saving him again. Hayden gave him the Fate and Destiny blades before telling him in his final breathe, "Be strong... I believe in you son, don't let... down... Take these blades... make me proud...," Rorand didn't know what to do.

He ran. Far away. Ever since that day, he wandered from home training for his father's sake. One day wandering through the forest he ran into a pack of wolves. They were 5, but 4 of them were attacking the other. Rorand chased them away and healed the wounded wolf, bonding his energy with it. The wolf befriended him and over time, he began to develop his own thoughts and personality being linked to an intelligent being for so long. Rorand named him Wolven and taught him all he knew about other animals and the forest, teaching an old dog some new tricks. They've been traveling looking for their destiny..... He never wants to be responsible for another's death unless forced, but knows many ways to kill. Rorand believes that their lives are bound to destiny and bound for a certain fate that can't be changed. He will practice and guard his beliefs. He loves having friends who understand him and treats them with kindness and with respect. He likes anyone who respects, likes, has things in common with him, but he dislikes reckless brutes who only love battle and bloodlust. Rorand hasn't consider dying and he hasn't set any goals for himself except to settle make his late father proud of him and one day return to the ruined elven city to rebuild the forest which he destroyed setting his own destiny.

Name: Evan Janus Vanek

Nicknames: Black Eyes, Dark One, Stranger.

Age: 16

Race: Evan is a Cambion, which results from the unison of a normal person, be it elf or human, and a demon or devil. The child usually appears like the humanoid race, with several fiendish traits. Normally, because of the darkness flowing though their veins, and being an outcast because of the lineage, they become raging, evil monster, though Evan is a special exception.

Sex: Male

Hair: Evan’s hair is a darker shade of brown then normal, almost black, but not quite there. The hair, if straightened, could cover his eyes partially and ears completely. However, it tends to curl slightly in some areas, so only a few stray hairs hang over his eyes, though his ears are rather invisible anyways.

Eyes: His eyes are a hazel color, with light brown surrounding the pupil with green trimming the outside. However, this is not the extent of his eyes. The iris is abnormally large, so it’s hard to tell, but the area that should be white is, in fact, black. This is where his nickname comes from.

Weight: 215. A majority of this is muscle.

Height: 6’2.

Weapon:

Ru-Vurrola, Black Blade of the Abyss. This weapon is a keepsake from Evan’s father, who is to remain nameless. The blade itself actually contains the soul of the father’s messenger, Ru-Vurrola, the Dark Messenger. Its power is tied into Evan’s soul, as well as what it already has, so it is constantly gaining strength. Though, when Evan is weak, the weapon is weak as well. Being forged into the flames of the abyss, this weapon is unbreakable, even against holy weapon. Because of its nature, it also can combat such weapons on level ground, as their powers generally cancel each other out. In addition to this, the sword can speak into Evan’s mind, giving him advice, albeit dark advice, but advice nonetheless. The blade itself is a Bastard Sword in shape, with the blade being the blackest shade of the night, with red runes embedding it. The guard is has the shape of a jeweled moon, with a blood red diamond in the center. The hilt is wrapped in black sackcloth, with red gems imbedded down the edges.

Claws. When Evan enters his devil state, he is unable to use his blade effectively, and normally stabs it into the ground, using his natural claws. They are very sharp, and can cut though steel. Don’t get the idea their unbreakable, however. They can break, but it’s just difficult. Luckily, they grow back.

Armor: Evan wears black studded leather armor. It isn’t the sturdiest armor, not the lightest, but it can stop an arrow easy enough, and lessen the blows of blades. A few areas are not covered by it, but it is covered in black scales, which are armor, in a sense. Though sparse, this ‘armor’ is natural, and hard to pierce. In his devil state, these scales grow over his entire body, covered up by course white and black wolf hairs.

Strengths: His Physical and Arcane magic are very powerful. Though hating what he is, he has not qualms delving into his dark power to do the good of others. He surprisingly is quite able to use darkness in the name of justice. His blade, Ru-Vurrola, he can focus this darkness into it, and add onto his already incredible strength. He has perfect vision in darkness, even if no light is visible.


Weakness: Even though Evan is not a follower of evil, his cursed bloodline makes him susceptible to numerous weaknesses of his kin, such as holy weapon, symbols, or enchantments. Wounds from such weapons last long, and are difficult to heal. Extreme bright lights also hurt his eyes, causing temporary blindness, but he usually wears a hood to combat it. Another thing that some might not consider a weakness, but really is, his is demonic bloodline in general. It occasionally plagues him with urges and desires of the darkest kind, ones that are difficult to resist. Usually, such events cause him to enter a killing spree, in which he also no longer even looks like a human, but that of a wolf.

Skills/Magic:
Darkness. As it sounds, Evan merely summons a dark could of negative energy. This lowers the vision of most creatures, though some may be able to effectively see though it. Evan dislikes using this, however, for the mere fact it makes him appear a coward.

Eyes of the Wolf. At will, Evan can turn his hazel eyes into creepy yellow ones. This enhancement will not only perfect his vision in the dark, it also can send chills of fear down the backs of his enemies.

Dark Absorption. This does exactly what it sounds like. Better done on a humanoid, Evan will grab their head, and begin absorbing their dark energies. This can be lethal, for if the darkness is tied into their soul, he’ll consume that as well. Usually, though, this will only knock someone unconscious, leaving them drained of dark energy, for the time being. For Evan, this restores his own supply of dark energy, as well as replenishing some stamina.

Devil Wolf. This is something that Evan hates to do. When he does do it, he gives into the darkness coursing though his veins. He goes though a horrific transformation, becoming a twisted Werewolf like creature. Unable to use his sword anymore, he instead uses his natural claws on his hands and hind legs. He also will bite them, and he sometimes will eat his enemy after finishing them off. In this state, he loses all morals and restrictions, acting only as the raging monster he has become. After some time, the beast will feel his energy reserves weaken, and he will go somewhere secluded as he returns back to normal, and falls unconscious. He also gains the ability to glide in this state, due to his wings.

Dark skills. In conjunction with dark absorption, sometimes, Evan will acquire traits from his victim. Usually, they are small quirks, but he occasionally gets knowledge of their fighting skills, and can use this to his advantage. If he accidentally absorbs their soul, the chance of getting something more increases.

Appearance: Evan is a cross between a Hylian woman and a Devil, and his appearance shows this. Though retaining normal skin color, around his ears, eyes, forehead, and various areas on his body are dark scales. In addition to the scales are small spike-like areas, mostly on his shoulders, and on his knuckles. His ears are elongated, like an elf’s, but with a fiendish feel to it. His teeth are pearly white, with defined fangs. His irises sit in the midst’s of the blackness of his eyes. In place of finger nails are one inch claws, pure black in color. His feet too have these claws, though due to his thick leather boots, they are rarely seen. As for his clothing, he wears a black shirt, with white cuffs on the end of the sleeves. On the back of the shirt is a hood he usually has on his head. Over this is studded leather armor in areas, with only his right arm, and lower legs unexposed. When he enters his demonic state, he rises in height a foot, with various parts becoming more wolf-like, though fiendish, and he grows a tail. Strangely enough, despite this form, he grows a pair of demonic wings, covered in fine wolf-like hairs. His hazel eyes also turn into an eerie yellow.

Personality: Evan is quiet, talking little. Even though he uses his powers without a second thought, and not afraid to end the essence of one’s life, he is ashamed of what he is, and what he does. Despite this, he thinks of himself as a champion of people who cannot fight for themselves, for he was once in that position. One thing he does hate is cowards. Even though he has the ability to do so, he never uses his dark powers as a way to avoid a fair fight. He prefers one on one competition, and will stop at nothing to defeat his opponent once the battle has begun. He also dislikes the abuse of children, and will also aid any kids in danger, though he generally ignores the troubles of adults, unless they are bad. They always ignored him, so he would do the same. Despite this, he is still kind, and will help someone who is in need. However, this is not the individual when the devil blood takes over. In his place is a ravaging monster, which only cares about death and destruction. He can speak in rough English, which is usually consisting of curses or mindless rambling. Evan, though, doesn’t actually know about this side of him, though he is sure to learn soon.

Biography: Evan had heard this story from several accounts, though whenever someone would remind it of him, it always chilled him. His mother was a wealthy woman, held in high esteem in their village, and loved my nearly all. Despite her wealth, she was not a greedy or vain person, and would also allow people who are down on their luck to stay in her house. This is how she met Evan’s father. He was dressed in ragged clothing, and he had a wound on his side. Despite being battered, he was quite attractive. Feeling sorry for the man, she allowed him to stay. His wound proved to be bad, so she cared for him, and eventually, they fell deeply in love. After a long period, the two were wed, and a child was conceived. Every one was happy for the couple, and waited for the birth. Nearly the entire town was at the healer’s house when it occurred. Oddly, the father was missing. A scream emitted from the lips of the nurse as people rushed in, finding a baby, with various portions of his body covered in black scales, with sharp protrusions growing from them. The town was horrified, and in the following days, tried to come to a way to solve this. They were hoping to talk with the mother after she awoke from shock, but this was not to be. She died soon after the birth. After her burial, many began arguing on what should be done with the boy. Some demanded he be destroyed, because he was obviously a monster. Others said no matter he was, they could not do something that atrocious. During their babble, the father returned. However, he had changed. No longer in the form of a man, but of a demonic wolf creature instead. He heard their plans of destroying him, and in his rage, killed three people. When he could finally be reasoned with, he revealed what he was, a Demon who fell from the grace of the empire from Hell. He was trying to find a place to recover after killing several Hell Knights when he encountered the woman. He pleaded with them, saying he truly was sorry for causing them grief, and that he loved the mother. However, due to his life, he could not care for the boy. He asked that he be placed under the care of someone trust worthy in the village, and he departed. Years later…

“… You wretched monster! It’s because… Because of you! My dear sister now lies in the ground!!” screamed a man, who throwing a bottle at a young boy in his drunken stupor. The boy, who was Evan, dodged it, tears rolling down his cheeks. He had been placed in the care of an abusive Uncle, who blamed Evan for the death of his mother, and the man’s sister. The man lost orientation, and fell into a chair behind him, losing his stamina, and falling to sleep. It was always like this, every night. Evan hurried to his room, hoping that his Uncle’s rage would have subsided when he awoke. He knew in his heart, even though always accused of being evil, and the cause of her death, that his mother must’ve loved him, even though she didn’t get to see him, according to townsfolk. The following day, people gossiped about the rage that was heard that night, everyone eyeing Evan wearily. Though they swore to keep him safe, they did not trust him, fearing he go berserk and kill them all. Despite all these negative feelings, he did not act like what was expected. Though quiet, he was quite friendly, and would try to help with anything, though usually rejected. Seeing as he had no friends, he befriended creatures of the night, such as bats, black cats, and even a wolf. All other creatures feared him. He also so no sign of life getting better, so he expected to live like this forever.

Until that night. The night which changed Evan’s life forever. After another rage from his Uncle, Evan escaped outside, and ran outside the town gates. He couldn’t bear it anymore, and he just had to escape. As he ran, and hid fell against a tree, trying to catch his breath, he heard screams from his village. As he rose, staying behind the tree, he was horrified to see the town in flames. Though he had been abused by the man for years, he had to make sure his Uncle was okay, because he was the only family he ever had. As he ran down, he heard more screams, accompanied by clashing of weapons. A battle was taking place. As he headed towards his home, he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt, and thrust him against a wall. The piggish features of a Moblin inspected him, drool dripping from its jaws.

“You’re a young one. You shall make a good appetizer.” The beast muttered, following with a rough laugh. Tears started to fill Evan’s eyes. He slightly glanced around, seeing the bodies of some of the townsfolk, one being his Uncle. Now he was alone.

“No…No… Dis… Dis can’t be happening!” He screamed, as his hands began digging into the moblin’s hands, causing blood to flow.

“GAH! Damn runt!” He howled, throwing Evan away like a rag doll. As the beast approached with its spear firmly in its hands, it paused as the boy rose. “Got some fight in you, eh? Good! Maybe you can put up more of a challenge then those!” The monster laughed with sarcasm, ignoring Evan’s ascent. As he looked back down, its evil grin was replaced with a look of fear. The boy’s eyes were no longer hazel, but yellow, which pierced the monster though it’s core. It quickly began becoming fearful, rambling in its own tongue. Before it could try to run or attack, the young boy charged the giant pig, using his claws as a weapon as he leapt though the air. As he came down, the beasts head fell off after it squealed in fear. The death cry brought its kin, which looked in horror as the young child turned his dark eyes on them.

In the morning, he awoke, exhausted, and dazed. He looked around, seeing the town burnt to the ground.

“What. What happened?” As the boy asked himself this, his hand slipped on a wet substance as he began raising himself. He found his hand covered in the black blood of moblins. He yelled in terror, finding mutilated bodies around him. As he looked around, eyes beginning to water, he saw something in the distance. It was a wolf. It plodded up to him, standing easily five feet tall, much larger then any wolf he’s ever seen. As he shook in fear, it knelt down, offering him a ride. Confused, but not wanting to stay in the ruins, got on, unknowing of his destination. As the day dragged on, Evan fell asleep, still exhausted from the events from before. When he awoke, he was in dark woods, with the wolf missing. Fear overtook him again as he began to shake. “Where? Where am I?” Before he could try to figure out himself, he saw a ray of light appear in the distance. Drawn to it, he followed the path to it, where he found a chilling scene. A skeleton, though he was unsure of what it was, lay in the middle of dead grass and leaves, with a large blade in its hand. The blade looked inviting, and he had this odd urge to grab it. As he did, a voice spoke.

Evan… Evan. That’s your name, is it not? Scared, the boy nodded, but his voice unable to answer to see where it came from. Splendid! I had waited for you for a long time. I was almost afraid I would never find you, with all these worthless creatures trying to use me. This confused him even more. Use? Just what was talking? Hmm. For ‘his’ son, you’re not too bright. I’ll give you a hint. Look down at your hands. Evan did so, and all he saw as the sword. Then it struck him. That’s right. I’m the one talking to you. I am Ru-Vurrola, servant to your father, the Black Wolf.

“You know my dad?” Evan asked innocently.

That’s right. He would’ve liked to give you me in person, but events have forced him into hiding. Which, speaking of that, you should do the same thing. You are much too important to just be standing around.

Evan frowned. “But I have no where to go. Da Moblins destroyed…”

I know. Tragic, but probably for the best. Evan looked at the blade with shock. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying they deserved it, but with them out of the way, you can go without fear of them dragging you back in an attempt to keep to their oath. The sword talked for hours, explaining to Evan various things, from what they were sworn to do, and also what Evan was. A Cambion, a half-breed. After finishing informing of what he was, the sword told him to go to a place that would become his hideout. Here he would live, until he was ready. And since then, he has trained, honing his skills. Secluded from the outside world, nothing occurring outside the walls of this ruined temple reached him. The only humans he ever saw were thieves, hoping to find riches, or find this shadow of the wood. They found him, and now their skeletons lay on the floors. Evan, feeling that he has done as much as he could, sets off into the world after thinking about his life for one last time. He knew none would know of him, but that is how he wanted it. Under the guidance of Ru-Vurrola, he would find out what he is meant to do, and maybe find his father, as well.

Approved by Ranarath.

Approved by: Ranarath.

Name - Natsuki
Age - 12
Gender - Female
Race - Half-elf

Hair - Red, it goes down to her ankles.
Eyes - Lavander

Height - 4''11
Weight - 95 Ibs

Appearance -

Personality - She is for the most part a kind and caring girl, towards most people, but never towards her enemies. If she doesn't like you, you are most likely always going to receive a glare from her.
She tries to take care of people in need the best she can.
She doesn't smile a lot, and doesn't laugh very much. She doesn't joke around, and she acts pretty mature.

Strengths - The element of fire and the element of light are her two elements which don't have much effect against her.
Both death and pain do not scare her, seeing she has seen other people go through it, she finds it rude to be afraid when many more people have gone through it.

Weaknesses - Ice and darkness are the elements that effect her the most.
She loves every animal. But she wouldn't really give up her life for one, but it may have a slight chance of making her give in to fighting.
She hates to watch people suffer, if she had to, she would defenetly harm the person in charge with her magic, possibley begin a fight with that person.

Weapons - For a weapon, she uses a magic baton, that is made of metal. Though, it grants her few ice techniques to use, but does not have any effect on her weaknesses or strengths, granted all her ice magic comes from this weapon. It looks like an ordinary, metal baton. But has a slight tint of blue.
Armor - None.

Magic - She has fire and light types magic, but also has a few ice types given to her by her weapon. But, all she can really do is make ice appear around the enemy, and trap them, or make a single spike of ice raise form the ground.
For fire, she can send a ball of fire in the direction she face, or make fire appear all around an enemy.
For light, she can make a beam of light shoot towards the enemy, or make a flare of light fall from the sky, onto a certain area, and possibley create a shock wave.

History - Natsuki's father was a human, who fell in love with an elf maiden, her mother prepared most of the events.
About a year after the two met, they fell deeply in love, and got married. And so, a half-elf was born, she went by the name of Natsuki.

When she turned five, her mother started to let her help with the events and such, though some things she couldn't do, her mother always helped her through it. But, her father had died the year before.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Six years later...

Natsuki ran her fingers through her hair, and looked out from the cliff, to the sea with a dreamy look.

Her mother looked up to her and smiled, placing her hand on her shoulder. "Natsuki, it is time for dinner. Are you going to eat?" She asked softly, watching Natsuki turned around.

With a smile, she replied simply, "Yes... I was just wondering what dad was like." She replied, walking back to the village with her mother.

"Your father? I don't know how to describe him. Maybe in time I will be able to tell you." Her mother replied.

"I see." Natsuki said, smiling a little.

When they got home, they both sat at the table, and began to eat. "So, is there a simple way to describe him?" Natsuki asked, she just couldn't stop wondering about what her father was like, maybe it was better she didn't know though.

Her mother chuckled with a smile, "He was kind and caring. Happy when you were born. But he died in a war, you know that." she said. Hearing something coming from outside.

"Mom, what is that?!" Natsuki shouted, standing up from the table, she ran to the door and opened it. "What?!"

"Natsuki, run!"

Natsuki turned around, and looked at her mother. "But..."

"Go, now!" She shouted. Someone had attacked the village, cries were heard from everywhere, and buildings and trees were falling down.

Natsuki frowned, and ran out of the village safely. When she made it up the far away hill, she looked back, and nothing was left. It was all just flames, and the flames were spreading through the forest that was near the village. A tear drippled down her cheek as she watched the flames. She could still hear the children's screams, and she couldn't help but run back to the village, for one reason, to see if her mother had survived or not.

When she went into the village she looked around her, with more tears falling from her eyes. She saw tons of mothers and fathers, dying in the flames to protect their children. But, her mother was no where in sight. Every cild she came across that she could save, she did save, or at least most of them.


----------------------------------------------------------------
One year later...

Natsuki walked into a town wearng a black cloak, unable to be seen. She was the shortest one in the town at the moment, other then the children, which to some, she still counted as one.
She looked around for an inn, when she noticed someone shivering in the cold, she took her cloak off, and wrapped it around the child. "Here you go. Is there anything you need? Perhaps a room to stay in at the local Inn for a while?" She asked kindly.

The child nodded, still shivering, and a little scared.

Natsuki smiled, and pulled the child up, taking the cloak once more, then putting it on him correctly. She took his hand and lead him to the inn, which was a little hard for her to find, seeing she was only visiting. When they got to the inn, she handed the woman at the desk some money. "Can you please take care of this little boy for me?" She asked.

The woman nodded, and smiled at the boy. "I would be happy to. Please, if you like you can stay the night. You look like you are traveling." The woman said.

"Are you sure?" Natsuki replied.

The woman nodded, then lead them to a room they could sleep in.

Natsuki entered it with the little boy, and they both climbed into seperate beds.

When Natsuki woke up, it was rather early in the morning. She looked at the little boy and smiled. "Take care." She whispered, walking out the room, then out the Inn to begin her journey...

Name: Elisa Anarison/Unknown
Age: 20/4000+
Gender: Female/Male
Race: Hylian/Sumaran
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 8st 1lb
Eye colour: Gold
Hair colour: Brown with six dark green streaks in it
Homeland: Hyrule/The Dark Dimension
Appearance: Pronounced cheek bones, slim figure, pointed Hylian ears, permanent black tattoos shaped like snakes on each arm, black make-up tattoed around her eyes
Garb: A lengthened dark green tunic with a black corset on top and a long green cloak. She also wears black boots and black fingerless gloves.
Personality: Elisa's personailty is virtually non-existant now, so it is only the Mara's personality that shows through. He is a cold, calculating entity who takes a subtle amusement from the pain of other people. He is sadistic, determined and resourceful. He regards emotions like love and compassion as being weak and that hate is what fuels people; what makes them stronger.
Weapons: The Sumaran believes that physical weapons are shields for the feeble, and so it only uses it's magical abilities unless in extreme danger.
Magic:
- To combat any bladed weapons, he can conjure a 3' long beam of green energy that he holds in his hand like a sword.
- He can fire long, continuous streams of black lightning from Elisa's fingers which can do terrible damage.
Strengths:
- He is an excellent swordsman.
- To the untrained eye, he appears to be nothing but an unarmed, weak, innocent woman and is greatly underestimated. That is one of the main reasons the Sumaran chose this host, Sumarans are rather fond of surprises.
- Because of the Sumaran's natural resilience, he can push Elisa's body through what she would not normally be able to survive. Eg: He can survive without food or water for several weeks.
Weaknesses:
- Sumarans believe they are superior to all corporeal life-forms and this one is no different. His arrogance causes him to underestimate his enemies.
- The possession hasn't caused Elisa's body to become any stronger, therefore the Sumaran is weak against physically stronger opponents. He was unwise in choosing this particular host.
- The Lightning can only be used for a limited time and with a recharge period as it uses up a lot of the Sumaran's strength.
Bio:
Elisa Anarison was born in the green, firtile land of Hyrule to a respected mercer and his wife. Mrs Anarison was very attractive and caught the attentions of quite a few local men. Her husband noticed this, but thinking it was just paranoia he ignored it. When Elisa was just 7 years old her father caught his wife and a local young farmer in bed together. Blinded by rage he slew them both, unaware that his young daughter was watching from the door, horrified. Mr Anarison next proceeded to sell up their home and leave Hyrule, turning his back on the bloodbath behind him.
He and Elisa arrived at the city state of Vannadus, far in the west. He got his daughter to work at dying wools as he began trading again with the sheep he had brought from Hyrule. Over the next 13 years, Elisa grew more and more hateful of her father, he shouted, he beat her, he grew ever more unstable. Elisa had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and her father didn't want to lose her like his wife, he kept Elisa inside almost all the time. Any opposition was met by his fists. Elisa was in dispair.
It was then that the Sumaran came.
The Sumarans are a thankfully small race of psychic beings who are drawn from their world to ours by intense feelings such as hate, anger and most importantly, revenge.
Her appeared to her whilst she was sleeping, in the shape of a hansome young man. He spoke to her, encouraged her, told her that with his help she could take revenge on her father, do things she could never have imagined, gain powers she thought impossible. All she had to do was to kiss him. She was by now so seduced by his words that she submitted.....and woke up. Her physical appearance had changed overnight, tattos had appeared on her face and arms, her eyes had changed colour and six emerald streaks had appeared in her hair. However the Elisa inside was no more, the Sumaran now had complete control; he spoke his first words in his new body, the possession had altered Elisa's voice, turning it deep and distorted. Taking in a deep breath, he knew what he would do first. The next day, the local Vannadus guards found Mr Anarison lying in bed with a smoking hole in the middle of his chest.
And so the Sumaran, by now used to his host's body left Vannadus with the thought of destruction in his mind.

*Approved by Aex.

Please go easy, he is my first character!

Name: Aldrich

Age: 50

Race: Human

Height: 6’4

Weight: 156 pounds

Eyes: Brown, but they seem black since they are so dark.

Hair: short, and gray in color.

Weapon: Rapier

Armor: Tunic and regular pants. A steel Buckler

Appearance: Aldrich towers over many of the men on the battle field, and has a keen sense about him. His name suits him well, as well as his defined gray hair. He struts with pride being a high commanding officer of the military service. His dark eyes wards off strangers, but to fellow friends are calm and inviting. He is garbed in a Dark green tunic with a light chain mail underneath, and brown cloth pants. His rapier sword sheath is vibrantly adorned in green and gold. His bucker is silver with a design of a beast on it. He wears brown shoes that make his feet look obnoxiously long. At first glance, you know Aldrich is a very wise and intelligent man. Bits of gray stubble also wander around not closely shaven, but not bearded.

Personality: Being as intelligent as Aldrich is, means that he has a mind crushing wit. He posses’ great strategy and skill in mind, and superior experience on the battlefield. To enemies he shows no mercy, but outside the battlefield he remains quite cheery. He can sometimes be seen chatting to young military trainees, and teaching young children about the arts of the blade. He believes his cause is to serve his country and keep it well educated.

Strengths: The most important aspect of Aldrich would be his keen intelligence. For being at his old age, he can keep his own on the battlefield. He is exceptionally adept at the art of the rapier, and rarely has to use his buckler. He isn’t as fast with the blade as he was at a younger age, but he closely compares to it. While he doesn’t posses much magical ability, he contains a few spells that can tie up wounds, and advance the power of his sword.

Weaknesses: A very fast fighter or one who doesn’t yield much could take down Aldrich. A younger enemy would have a better chance. He is getting older, at he is also getting slower with time. A fatal blow to a bone could easily break it for his old age. To be on the battlefield at the age of 50 is significant. A large sword could push his rapier to the side and easily overthrow his buckler. His hard attitude on the battlefield can sometimes rub off around town, causing fiery arguments to occur, sometimes even fierce battles.

Magic/Skills
- Cure: a simple spell to cure minor wounds. Deep incisions don’t apply. A simple knick of a blade or other object can be cured relatively fast.

- Blade of Fury: A quick attack that can cut an enemy to bits with a barrage of fury swipes. It is hard to dodge, but for Aldrich, he misses because the blade moves too fast.

- Overlook: Allows Aldrich to peer over the battlefield likewise to the eyes of a hawk. He can see if an enemy is coming, or where an enemy is stationed. He can see distances of up to 25 miles or sometimes more depending on the impeding conditions.

Biography: The West Province, a beautiful land indeed. Gorgeous waterfalls, gigantic forests, and TWANG! The clash of blades. Aldrich’s rapier was soon intertwined with that of an enemy’s. A fiery battle soon was to get nasty. He was in the middle of that battle field and all of a sudden a deep fiery pain engulfed his legs. He instantly touched the area and felt a mass of warm crimson blood, Seconds later a club smashed his head and he awoke to a massive headache in a dungeon. ‘Ugh, where am I?’ Taking everything in he suddenly realized he had been taken captive. Sitting impatiently for a few hours he tried getting up only to fall down after he had remembered the gash in his leg. “Ok kids, that’s all for now.” “Aw come on you were getting to the good part.” “That was almost 30 years ago,” he thought to himself. Returning home to a nice bath to soothe his aching joints he instead returned to a note posted on his front door.
Report to King Samson’s castle immediately. “Damn” he thought, “what now?” he embarked across town with note in hand. He arrived at the caste doors, and handed the note to the head guard stationed there. As he entered he took note of the grandeur that castle gave off. A large beautiful chandelier along with numerous painting was a few to note. He stepped into the King’s chamber and was greeted with a huge hug from the king. “So nice to see you, I have a few things to discuss with you yet again.” “I want you to command a large troop of soldiers and begin the attack on the Southern Nations. They have attacked several villages, and I want them put down fast, you are the right guy for it.” “I guess I have no other options.” replied Aldrich.
The dawn of a new day, and that meant the start of yet another battle. Grabbing only his sword and buckler he headed out immediately. Taking an un-occupied horse at the stables, he was off to the barracks. He arrived to see what looked like 5,000 men ready for battle, but in reality was a mere 1,000. “Only this many men for such a battle? I guess he thinks too highly of me.” As the nervous soldiers gathered their equipment, they were off at a steady marching pace while Aldrich led the pack. About only 5 Miles into their trek, an arrow whizzed past Aldrich face missing by an inch and pelted into a mans shoulder 6 feet behind him. Aldrich pulled his sword out of the sheath, and suddenly, the battle begun. He ran to a top of a nearby hill only to his dismay; see a large troop of at least five thousand men. He quickly looked back at his troops and knew he could take the enemies. It would be a long bloody battle, bet he would survive. As both armies clashed, there were problems everywhere. Aldrich’s horse had already perished, and he was again, in the middle of the battlefield engulfed in a circle of men. Suddenly a barrage of arrows took out a circle of men, and Aldrich quickly took out many enemies. The battle raged on for another two hours until the last men was cut to bits by Aldrich’s mighty blade. Many were killed, and it left the bitter taste of revenge in Aldrich’s mouth. He and his remaining soldiers would soon have to face another battle yet sometime in the near future, for the sake of his beloved kingdom…

Hauling them all into one post.

***

Rain
The Devil's bane.

Raven
The knight alchemist.

Arina
The girl that can soar over everyone.

Seth
The knight of the sky.

Aisha/Raisha
The new breed of Reaper.

Lady Destiny
The future of us all.

For conveniant storage I've decided to include all my character's links in a single post, and simply have a link to said post in my sig rather than all the individual links.

~Dante*~ The dark child~ Lament~Flamel*~KhalidX~Cain~Gorin~Ziran~Havok~

Characters with an "*" next to their name are now deceased, and characters with a "X" next to their name are simply no longer in use.

Approved by Selah.
He's number two.

Name: Nathan (Nate) Overheart

Age: 16

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Height 5ft 8in

Weight 52kg

OoC: Sorry for the different units but it’s the only size and weight I fully understand.
Bic: Weapons: A long thin sword that hangs from a dark brown leather sheath on his waist. Also a pistol that he stole from his Father shortly before running away.

Strengths: Rather good with the sword and a dead-eye (if that’s a good thing) with his pistol. Agile too and willing to do most things. Nate is occasionally able to attack using his pistol and his sword simultaneously. Nathan is scared of very little and is quick to react, but not without thinking first. His friendly nature makes him able to attract allies easily. Finally, he is used to most terrain and hardly ever trips or loses his footing.

Weaknesses: Not much more than a child so his endurance is poor. He is not as fast as an adult either due to his shorter legs, but he is bouncier and livelier. Sadly, he has next to no magic for he is only human. His pistol can only shoot so many bullets before he has to spend precious time reloading or give up on it. He is constantly looking over his shoulder and on edge since the pirates kidnapped him and now his imprresion of all seamen is steriotyped by one evil group.

Magic/Skills: The only piece of magic that Nate can perform is a small electric spell that flows from his hands or the skies, whichever is more convenient. He has since learned the ability to channel the power into objects such as his sword or pistol.
As I said before Nathan can occasionally use both use both of his weapons at the same time. There is a special way of doing of so. Nate throws his pistol up in the air and then catches it with his sword. The blade acts as his finger on the trigger so he can swirl it around blasting bullets while hacking at opponents. This can however go awry so is saved as a last defence, usually he’ll just have sword in one hand, gun in the other.

Appearance: Nate has a pair of dark blue cargo shorts that go just below his knees. He wears a flowing plain white shirt underneath a dark waist coat with big, gold buttons. His actual face is very young for his age and smooth. He has big, blue eyes and soft, thin eyebrows. His jet-black hair is a curly bush that covers his ears but no more.
Nathan’s most noticeable feature is his large, typical pirate hat with a skull and cross-bones on it. Unusually, the hat has three silver bells that jingle when he moves. Thankfully, he doesn’t wear it all the time.
Nate is altogether quite handsome bar his extremely young appearance. If it weren’t for his height he could easily pass for an eleven-year-old.

Personality: In England where Nate was born and raised he never stopped day-dreaming. Conversations with him were one-sided because his thoughts consisted solely on adventures that would never happen in England. People eventually gave up on being his friend, but Nathan didn’t care. His whole long was in the clouds.
When Nathan ran away he became a completely different person, he wasn’t pulling off a mask that was in England he was discarding all his old habits, dreams, and thoughts. He started anew at his luxurious destination.
Nathan is always ready for a challenge, it doesn’t necessarily have to be bloody or physical, he just loves living out the dreams that so many children back in England could only imagine. He is very friendly and adventurous and there is always a smile on his face. He finds it incredibly hard to take things seriously, so if something is getting a little too real he’ll walk off and start another more fun adventure.
He takes pleasure in the simpler things in life, like sitting under a tree or bathing in the ocean, despite his love of challenges he also enjoys relaxation. He is easily pleased too and will laughed at whatever he finds funny, no matter who the audience is or what the consequences may be.

Bio: Nathan Overheart was born in the heart of a large city in England. It was a bustling, pollution-filled city with no care for the individual and Nathan thrived on the dreams that some day the opportunity would come to get out of the filthy hole and off to somewhere amazing; paradise, as Nate called it.

Nathan waited for years for a foreign ship that would accept him or a plan with an exotic itinerary, but it never came. He slipped once again into the dreams of the future without taking action. He did terrible in school, “the boy just doesn’t care,” said every one of his many teachers. It was true, why should he care? In his opinion school lead to jobs which lead to society crushing your spirit.

He was kicked out of school and had to be taught at home, his Mother gave up her job for him but he still didn’t care.
“Why won’t you pay attention!” she screamed for the third time in an hour. Nathan hadn’t even heard her. He was engrossed in a drawing of a beach and some trees that hung on the walls.

Things only got worse. Soon word had spread about their failing son and his Father was discredited for having such a loser as a child. He lost his job and the family sank into dept.
“It’s all your fault!” It was his Dad shouting after getting fired. “All you had to do was show some emotion!”
“There’s nothing to show it to here. You may like the rules and regulations of normal life but they are chains strangling me Dad!” He was really upset. “If I don’t leave some they’ll suffocate me!”
“Why don’t you just leave then?” His father stormed off into another room grabbing his Mother by her apron.
“Don’t worry, I’m going now,” he whispered.

Fifteen minutes later Nathan was on the poverty-stricken streets. He had a bag strung around his shoulder with his belonging in it and a pistol in his left hand. He strode along the path surprisingly calmly considering the emotional struggle he had just been in. “That’s behind you now. A new door has just opened; we just had to close the old one.” The sun was setting in front of Nathan; he quickened his stepped as he noticed the quay appearing as a line of dots on the horizon.

Nathan scanned his eye across every single boat on the docks, looking for flaws and the one most able to carry him to ‘paradise’. He noticed a wooden sailing boat not far off. Unknown to anyone, Nathan had a book on sailing which he studied should the need arise. He ran over to the boat thinking of the adventures he could have on it. He untied it from the Quay, grabbed two oars and started rowing. It wasn’t long until his arms were aching; it was time to hoist the sail.

With the sail blowing about in the wind it was time to work the tiller. Night had fallen so he positioned it to follow the North Star. “Nathan Overheart!” he cried, “World famous explorer!” He continued yelling out his most sacred dreams until he noticed a faint splodge of land to the east. “Watch the boon!” There was no boon but there were in books. He turned the tiller until the wind was catching the sail the right way.

Several times he began to nod off but jolted awake with thoughts of adventure buzzing through his head. The splodge had partially taken a form by then. He recognised the relief, it was the Netherlands. He realized how hungry he was and turned the sail toward France. “Nathan Overheart single-handedly crosses the English Channel!”

Many hours later, when Nate could faint from the rumbling in his stomach he reached the small town of La Rochelle. Little did he know that he had gone considerably more southward than he intended. “Food!” he shouted scrambling out of his boat after safely tying it to a large wooden pole. He had to work for the money for a few hours but he was exceedingly grateful, he found a shop that didn’t look to expensive and pointed at a croissant and showed the grocer his shiny gold coins. He also bought some sandwiches and devoured them instantly. Next he bought a map with the little change that remained. Since he had no idea where he was someone kindly pointed it out on the map.

Nathan’s little boat had stayed on the dock and he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw this. He waved goodbye to randomers for no apparent reason and started on his journey again. His stop in La Rochelle had given him time to think and he had decided to go to Madagascar. A huge island where laws and punctuality gave way to freedom and adventure.
Paradise.

His voyage continued similarly all the way to Madagascar, it was amazing. A tropical heaven overflowing with milk and honey. There was nowhere to tie his boat to so he just dragged it onto the beach. Nate clambered up the sand dunes to take a look at the vast amount of sea he had traversed. Words could not express the sheer, simplistic joy that Nathan felt as he turned around. The setting sun lay lazily on the waters casting a shining glow on every drop. Overhead, the clouds turned a romantic shade of pink and floated about at their leisure. This was what he came to see.

The moment was soon spoiled when Nate was tripped by a shadowy figure and stuffed into a brown, smelly bag. He could feel himself being dragged along the forest floor for hours on end before being finally spitted out of the hideous bag. He lay on the other side of the island; a desolate, ugly place controlled by bucktoothed, dirty men. “What are you doing on our land!” snarled what seemed like the leader.
“You brought me here.” He remained calm under the intense situation.
“Err… shut up or I’ll cut your throat! Since you have trespassed on my land you shall become one of us!”
“Dirty, smelly and stupid?” he spat back.
“No!” the captain shouted slapping Nathan. “A pirate!”

And so it was. Nate was forced to raid poor innocent humans of all treasure in order to garb his waistcoat in shiny bobbles. He couldn’t stand for it. Wouldn’t stand for it. He was going to take action.

On one occasion the entire crew of thirty or so men were on the Prospero; Captain’s ship. Twenty-pirates had hidden under an immense sheet so the Prospero would seem like an innocent trading ship. Same as always, Captain asked to trade, swung the grappling hooks aboard the other ship, pulled it alongside his ship and looted the place. Except, Nathan was angry. He grabbed his pistol and grabbed out his hand towards Captain’s neck, pulling him in close to the lethal weapon.

“Hey! I’m in charge now! And to prove it, I’m doing this!” At that moment he pressed the trigger and a bullet tore through Captain’s neck. “As my first order of business I declare this ship mine! Mine alone! My crew shall disband!” He had done it. The monstrous crew did disband and Nate had been left with a wonderful ship at his disposal. He picked up the dead Captain's hat and placed it on his head. Next, he brought three silver beels (plunder from a raid) out of his pockets and tied them to the hat.

With the shackles that were holding him down all his life were finally released he began his first proper adventure. Leaving his boat behind, Nate set off through the forests of Madagascar alone searching for inhabitants. Deep in the heart of the forest he found them. Kind, peaceful people that led unburdened lives. He tried communicating with one but he just pointed to the central hut.
“I know why you’re here.” Said an eerie voice from inside the hut. “Adventure is your craving, and to spur you onwards I shall give you a gift. The strange man’s hands lit up in an array of sparks that crossed from his to Nathan’s. They stayed for a moment, tickling his hands and then subsided. “The power of Thunder is yours.”

Nathan didn’t say anything, just left the hut. He pointed to a nearby tree and a flash appeared from the skies. “Now the adventures can truly begin.”

Approved by Ranarath.

Name: Theo Valentine

Age: 12 1/2

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Height: 5.5 ft. (My real height.)

Weight: 120 lbs.

Weapons: Theo's weapons are a Two Japanese Fans. (No not like Fan's for your house, the hand holdeble fans that fold up.) These Fans are great against blocking flying objects, they are not good woth strong Melee but they are good for Quick slices and stuff.
They are for a class of trained Ninjas, but Theo is a theif, He stole them. He also carries around a sword for combat that is Melee.

Strengths: Theo's strengths come from the Light, It is his main sorce of power for his quick reflexes. He also has a great love for Nature and gains some power from the Animals and trees etc. The Light gives him power for Reflxes and Nature gives him a special devotion that makes him pumped for battle, and keeps him stronger.

Weakness: Theo's weaknesses are Ice, And The Darkness, Theo can't go near any type of Darkness or he will start to get dizzy and pass out, Some darkesses can be leathel and Drains all Health to Theo. Theo also does not like the Cold, his Light Power gives him heat since light is hot, So the cold takes away the heat from him and drains all energy and takes away 10% of health. Theo also is not fond of Melee fighting as explained in the "STRENGTHS" section above, The only way he can overcome Melee is if he has enough light power. (Atleast 95% of light.) And A Minor Weakness is the Night, The moon does give light but not as much as day so his attacks are weaker.

Attacks: Theo's attacks are more of ranged and somewhat Melee.
One of them is the "Raptor Strike" (Common name for a attack I know ) Anyways, The Raptor Strike Drains half of 30% of Theo's energy, When Theo has a chance he can openly strike his target rapidly until the collapse of target. (Raptor Strike does 50 a.k.a 50% of damage.) Secondly This is Theo's most powerful attack, If Theo has enough full energy, health, and Magic power he can combine them to use the "Light Calling" attack, (This attack is only usable when there is no light only darkness, Not the kind Theo can't fight against, Just the "Night" Time Dark.).) Theo calls forth upon the Light Power and summons rapid beams Light to shoot down from the sky and theo can rapidly fire hundreds of beams of light at target for a limit of 10seconds, This power Drains All of Theo's energy and Magic Power, And half of Theo's health. Theo's third power is the "Rapid Block" Is Theo is getting several objects thrown at him he can block all of them with his fans and block them back at the targets. (This attack drains 50% of energy.)

Story/Background/Personality:
Theo's story is somewhat confusing. His real name is not to be spken for it has been disgraced. (get's hot chocolate...) Theo has not got a new name wich is "Theo Valentine" Theo is a shy boy who is common aroud his village "Heric Village" because his family was loaded with cash, But they did not really spend it, They were wise and used there money for few dezires. He was born in the Winter and the first thing he rembers form being a younger child was the Snow, When he was able to walked he always played in the snow with much delight, Alothough his One of his weaknesses is The Cold it does not effect him other wise thend draining his energy, He always is interesting in how do I say it.."Five Fingured Discount?" lol! Yes, he is a theif who enjoyed stealing and pickpocketing, ]He is Smart not the Smartest but...He catches on kinda of slow! He is a Joke Teller and likes to make fun of people even his friends. He eats like crazy but never gets fat. (Fast metasalisem I assume. ) He tries to help but is mostly neglected by most Villagers, remember when I said he was known in the Village? Yea, thats because he earned himself the nickname "The Ringtail" Reffering to a Racoon wich racoons are sometimes thought of as Bandits. He dosn't steel for bad reason, He just dosn't really like to pay money. He is a very fun person to be with and has many skills as to Climbing trees and he likes to get dirty, I mean he does not mind getting wet, muddy, scared not only fizzicly but mentaly () And stuff like that, Well that's pretty much Theo's story. Theo, aslo still lives in the village and visits time to time.

Appearance: This is the best I could do He also has pants, And They are green and ragged, baggy. His shoes are more like boots with laces. :

Soo I uhh sure yea...

Approved by Selah.

Name: Mark Ilia Vandibrough

Age: 18

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Dirty blonde hair that reaches to his neck, usually either completely messed up like he just woke up or a clear, clean sheen.

Eyes: One is a sparkling green, and the other is a deep, dark blue.

Weight: 169.28 lbs., respectively.

Height: 5 feet, 9 inches.

Weapon: Depends on his mood. Normally, he doesn’t carry anything around with him. He learned several methods of protection in his times in the mental institution, so he knows a lot of abilities with his mind he does tend to use more. He may have random potions on hand, so it’s always a different battle with him.

Screamer: This is a ten foot whip he obtained from pieces of leather tied together with shards of glass and nails embedded into it. It also contains splinters of broken bone and other sharp things. Normally, it tends to slash open people horribly, but if he gets a good deep shot, it literally rips the flesh off in strips. It’s not breakable by any means, for the leathering is far too thick to snap, and the shards make it difficult to touch it without piercing one’s hand. He tucks away in his belt. It’s his main weapon, and useful for distance attacks, as well as using it to pull himself to unreachable instances. He dislikes using it, though, for he tends sometimes to cut himself and then not notice until he has lost a great deal of blood from a simple wound.

Screamer of Insanity: This is Mark’s ultimate attack. It is only available when he goes completely insane, which thankfully, is happening less and less. If his anger builds to a certain point, he is able to alter the forms of his whip using his body movements, making it able to become hard and sharp like a spear. At this point, he no longer exhibits any care for himself whatsoever. One of his favorite attacks in this stage is to push his entire whip through someone’s chest and loop the whip through their ribcage, pulling until their entire skeleton comes out in pieces. Another of his favorite attacks is to throw his whip about an enemy’s neck as it wraps together and yank until he’s pulled the head off.

Tears of the Rain: Mark’s umbrella doubles as a sword when he presses the release button. It’s difficult to control, and cumbersome. He only keeps it when it’s raining, so he hardly ever has it on him, unlike his whip, which he carries around with him. The blade is about two and half feet long, and slides out of the handle, looking like a pointed cane with a sword attached.

Armor: None unless he creates it with a potion, which is doubtful. He considers the stuff to be heavy and tiresome.

Strengths: Mark has extreme strengths in his thought patterns. One of his favorite philosophies is “mind over matter”, literally. He thinks of himself as perhaps the youngest genius ever to be born. True to his claims, Mark is a literal prodigy to his parents, town, and perhaps what he knows as the world. Within seconds, he can figure out numerical sequences that would take the top scientists in the F.B.I. months to answer. He also contains excellent skills with thievery and sneaking, able to rob banks or steal from the police station if he liked. For this, he has developed extreme agility and speed for a human.

Besides this fact, Mark has already tried several of his own concoctions he makes, and therefore, has several inhuman strengths. For one, he is basically invincible to any sort of pain. Hardly any stabs or magical spells hurt him, for his body has built up an extreme resistance to pain of any sort. His blood is extremely thick, and therefore he loses it slowly. Some wounds hardly seem to affect him. The only possible way to kill him in his human form would be to subject him to long periods of loud noises, or to deal him with an impossible escape, such as drowning or lack of air. He’s always developing new potions and formulas, and he knows enough to make just about any factor true, from changing his sex to switching to an animal, to growing wings.

Weakness: Though Mark doesn’t feel pain, it is possible for him to bleed to death easily from even a minor cut because he will not notice it. Therefore, he’s always careful to bandage his wounds shortly after they appear, knowing that he won’t be able to tell if he becomes too weak until it is too late.

Mark has a pity towards most people, and doesn’t like to fight when he can help it. This makes it easy to get the first draw on him. His strength is severely lacking, and he sometimes has a tendency to stall too much before attacking. He also has a great soft spot for his little sister, and therefore refuses to fight young girls, period (from an age of ten and younger).

He has a great weakness when it comes to people talking about family or love, for he has lost all of that, and feels he can never regain it. He finds himself with a complex nervous state around asylums of any sort, and sometimes he can go crazy at any time when in one. Though he has several potions on hand most of the time, they are short-lived, and some may have…awkward effects depending on if he made them correctly. Finally, Mark suffers from an extreme case of Ligyrophobia, or the fear of loud noises. Because of the constant pierce of the sirens while he stayed at the asylum, Mark will literally freeze and go into a sort of postponed shock/seizure state when this goes off, or have other adverse effects. Prolonged exposure can kill him, and the sounds make him slightly mad, depending upon the volume of them.

Skills/Magic: Mark does not have any idea about magic; he considers it to be tricks of his mind. He can, however, make potions and formulas for just about anything you can think of. He has intense skills with numbers and mysteries as well, and can solve them in seconds.

Appearance: At first glance, Mark looks like a normal teenager. He wears a pair of old, semi-bloody and semi-dirty jeans that have faded from their deep blue to a dingy color. He normally wears the same style of what used to be a white t-shirt. If he’s not wearing this, he’ll be dressed in what looks like a school uniform, complete with a vest and slacks. He tries to keep a well-groomed appearance most of the time.

No matter what he’s wearing, he will always have a pair of thin rimmed glasses in his pocket, one of the lenses cracked, and the other popped out. He insists he can’t see without them, even though his vision was repaired after a certain potion he concocted. His face is without blemish, albeit dirty most of the time. He’s very charming in appearance, a heartthrob for most girls based on appearance. Besides his whip, he’ll probably also have several glass bottles in his pack or on his belt. They may be filled with varying colors of liquid. He also carries around a small set of aids for his hobbies, including a nail file, a pocket mirror, some ladies blush, tweezers, a few hairpins, a paper clip and a rubber band.

Personality: Mark’s personality is complicated in many ways. Taking care of trivial matters, he is rather comedic most times, enjoying other people’s flusters and gasps at his revealed skills. He rather dislikes showing how smart he is if he can help it, but if it has to be done, he’ll willingly agree. He enjoys only one type of music, because of his fear he will not listen to rock or any loud types of song. He likes classical pieces, and they help him to think. He will also enjoy music from the oldies, and rather likes how the people were happy. Though at times he can be described as a semi-sadist, he really hides a lot of his pain inside, disliking others to know what he’s feeling. A lot of his sadness is bottled up, and he only expresses his feelings to himself, preferably at night in bed.

He hates rather joyous people a lot, for he feels it’s unfair that they can be so happy, especially with others in love interests, when his life has been so terrible. He despises fish, though he likes to eat veggies more than anything else. He also dislikes others to feel pain even though he doesn’t like their joy, for he also has a sense that they shouldn’t be like his life was. He doesn’t like insults, and tends to overreact even at a joked attempt to poke fun at him.

When someone first meets him, Mark may tend to give off the impression of a rather crazed person, especially if he’s near his hometown. He often speaks in short, factual sentences, seemingly captain obvious. His demeanor may also seem quiet or friendly, it all depends on his present mood. He can also be completely crazed in many ways, unpredictable as a roll of the dice.

Mark enjoys the more simple things in life, such as a cup of tea every morning, waking up to the dawn to his pocket watch he carries around, and relaxing in his study. His main home is his parent’s mansion, where he enjoys staying, though others tend to disagree. It’s filled with booby traps and wild mazes created by both Mark and his parents for experiments, but Mark uses them for fun. He may seem somewhat English in his actions, much older-sounding than he actually is at times. His lifestyle would be difficult for others to adapt to, but he enjoys it immensely.

His favorite thing in the world is reading books to increase his knowledge capacity, and to figure out riddles. He absolutely adores playing brainstorming games, and frequently makes up riddles just for fun. Much of his enjoyment comes from making others happy however he can. He feels like no one can understand him, and sometimes he will lock himself in his room in the asylum, embracing the insanity just to feel that he is no longer hurt, and no longer feel lost in the dark all alone…

Theme Song: Welcome To My Life-Simple Plan

Biography: (Warning: This history is extremely long as I tend to write books about my characters. Please relax, grab a snack, and take your time. I’ve split it up for you, just because. This is actually more of a character past compacted.)

Watching the swirling leaves outside the glassy window’s sheen, six-year old Mark tapped the pencil against the wooden desk. He ended up supporting his chin upon his hand as he longed he could go out with them and twirl in the wind, dancing instead of stuck in here. How he dreamed he could possibly go there, out among the forest, and see what’s beyond this town.

“Mark Ilia Vandibrough!”

The boy snapped out of his trance, dropping the pencil with a clatter as the class all broke into giggles. The teacher tapped her toe on the ground, enclosing her ruler in her hand. “You were daydreaming again, Mark…tell me, what did we just talk about?” She faced the boy with a smirk, her fingers tracing the lenses of her glasses as she pushed them back up her nose.

The boy sank lower in his chair, his cheeks flushing a pink tint. “Um…we were talking about math?”

“Correct, Mark. Since you know the basics so well, tomorrow, I want you to lead the class in exercises…” She trailed off as the bell rung, and the children stampeded out in a flurry, grabbing their plastic lunchboxes and coats.

“Yes, Mrs. Harkam…” Mark shamefully stated as he took his coat.

“Wait, Mark. I want you to stay here while I go call your parents and talk to them about your lack of interest in your studies…you’re failing second grade…again. Now I want you to clean these desks until I return, and put some elbow grease into it!”

The blonde boy nodded as she left, grabbing a few paper towels off of the rack and looking around in a bewildered state.

“That’s right, Mr. Vandibrough. Your son seems distant, and he’s failing the grade once more…I just think it’s too much for him. Maybe you should consider a special school for him. Uh-huh…I see. Yes, sir, I’ll send him home. It just doesn’t make sense. His sister, Mina, is thriving; at an age of four…I’m just worried he may need some extra help. Yes, sir, I understand…”

She hung up the phone and opened the door to the classroom, gasping. In the midst of all the bottles of cleaning supplements, Mark huddled in the cupboard, reaching for the highest shelf. Bottles were knocked over all around the room, and some were leaking. “Mark Vandibrough! What do you think you’re doing?!” the teacher scolded, picking him up by the arm and roughly giving him a rap on his knuckles with a nearby ruler.

“I’m looking for the elbow grease!” Mark explained with a hurt expression on his face. “I tried to find it, but it’s not in the cupboard…”

Pushing her glasses up on her nose, the teacher laughed heartily, knowing Mark spoke the truth. “Oh…don’t worry about that, Mark. It was a figure of speech. Go home now, your mother and father told me you’ll have to walk today. Your sister should already be there.”

Mark left the school, heading home to the mansion that loomed in the distance. On the way, he passed the asylum. What a creepy place. Even from out here, he could hear the screams and delusional yelling. Boy, he hoped he would never have to go there, not even for a visit. He hurried past, waving with a friendly smile to the guard and coming up the stone steps to his house, pushing the large oak doors open.

“Big Bwother!” Mina called, throwing herself into his arms.

“Hey, Mina!” Mark hugged her tightly, ruffling a hand through her hair. He adored his little sister, for she happened to be the one who cared for him most, or so it seemed.

“MARK!” His father arrived home in a storm, refraining from speaking to his son until dinnertime rolled around, so the whole family was present. “Your teacher tells me you’re having a bit of trouble in the grade again, son…I thought we had covered this.” Mark couldn’t look his father in the eyes.

A strong man, Jim Vandibrough happened to be a great influence to the people of the town. Like his son, he had a determined sense about whatever he did, and normally proclaimed himself to be very rich. Indeed, his family happened to be quite well-off in life, and he seemed to enjoy it thoroughly. Jim always had a sort of gift with his experiments in science, and his mind was greater than most normal people. He took great pride in this, and decided that Mark would be the same, shocked when his son began to fail the second grade.

His wife, Sarah, tended to be more of a timid creature, interfering with her husband only if she feared for her children. Both of them had inherited her golden hair, but Mark had a strange characteristic. Mina was born with two beautiful baby blue eyes echoing her mother’s appearance in every sense. Mark, however, obtained a gift of one blue eye and one green, following both of his parents.

“I hope you’re going to try harder…go to your room and think about what has happened today. I’ll be up later.” Mark silently left the table, a tear rolling down his cheek before he wiped it on his shirt sleeve. He tried…he really did. He just had trouble thinking a lot of times. A wall blocked any thoughts…no matter how hard he tried to get over it, he always fell down, and each time, it was harder.

The fact bluntly remained in the child’s mind as he moped around his curtained bed, sipping a cup of tea. Mark had always liked tea, especially when he had a good book to settle down with. His parents were such a strong influence. In the small town of Red Hill, they were top scientists, on the verge of discovering the causes of a new disease that was plaguing the town, and working for the good of the people. Mark gazed out of his window, sighing as the wind’s breeze blew past his blonde hair.

The town of Red Hill remained as beautiful as it always seemed during the sunset. The bright hues of crimson and orange lit up behind the trees, seemingly lighting them on fire. He mused to himself as a knock was heard on his door. “Come in.” he chirped, turning with a serious look.

His father entered, and gave his son a stern look. “Son…I have something for you. I want you to drink it. Don’t ask questions.” He handed his son a small bottle, in which a black liquid bubbled.

“What is it?” Mark quickly covered his mouth. More than anything in the world, he wanted to please his father. Lifting it to his lips, he guzzled it down, falling back in a swoon. His father caught him and tucked him into his bed, feeling his forehead…he was burning up. Perfect. That meant this would most likely end in success…if not…no one would ever know. No one else would have agreed so avidly…therefore, his son was the perfect subject.

It was weeks before Mark could return to school, but his teacher did not forget what she had commanded him. “Mr. Vandibrough, could you please lead the class in the multiplication tables? Start at the two’s.”

Mark placed a hand to his head, and softly murmured. “Um…two times two is four…”

The class continued to drone on, pushing the small boy’s voice below. “Thank you class. See how easy multiplication is? It’ll be no time before you can figure out something ….something absolutely outrageous as three thousand and fifty four times five.”

“Fifteen thousand, two hundred and seventy.” The whole class hushed, and silently turned to face Mark. Ted, Mark’s best friend, seemed to be the most shocked. “I think that’s the answer…but I only think it’s the answer, I’m not sure. It all depends.”

The teacher chuckled for a moment. “Okay…let’s see.” She took out the calculator nearby her desk and punched it in, looking at the boy in pure shock. She never expected him to even be close, much less right. “Correct…how did you do that, Mark? How did you cheat? Do you have a calculator at your desk? Come on now, fess up. I know you didn’t do that in your head…how did you know?”

”I just…knew.”

*Later that Day*

“I never knew you could do things like this, Mark.” Ted stated as they were walking home later that day.

“I never knew I could either.” The two laughed. Mark decided to bring something up he had never brought up before. “Hey, we’ll be best buddies forever, Ted, won’t we?”

“Duh.” The two boys parted ways to their respective homes, Mark promising to help Ted with any trouble he had in his schoolwork. From that day on, Mark’s life began to change, rather slowly at first, and then faster and faster. He practically shot through his grades, so much so that school was even more boring than it had been before…until she came.

“Hi!” Her voice likened that of an angel’s, as soft as a bell chiming. She visited him when he remained apart from the group, thinking. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t help it…he had to think.

“Hi…” Mark shyly exclaimed to her. Her blonde curls sprung about her face like waves of an ocean, and her eyes sparkled with more energy than he had ever seen in his life. She wore a fancy dress, with poofy sleeves that reminded Mark of cupcakes and lacy trims at the end of her stockings. Her hair was put up in a light sky blue ribbon. Such was the day Mark fell in love…

“Your dad and my dad are working together!” She piqued up, folding her hands behind her dress, fiddling with the ribbons.

“Oh…” Mark managed to say, tongue tied.

“So we’ll be seeing each other a lot…I’m Annabelle. What’s your name?” She leaned in closer to his face, her lips turned upwards in a gentle smile.

Through his dazed daydream of lollipops and rainbows, Mark managed to reply. “I’m…I’m M-M-Mark.” He replied in a stunned voice.

She laughed, making the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Her skin was a flawless perfection, and even though she most likely did not deem herself to be pretty, Mark though she was a goddess. “Okay then, M-M-Mark! I’ll see you later!” She took off down the road, skipping and swinging her princess lunchbox in the air.

When Mark got home, he flopped beside his sister, who was playing a game of Clue with his parents. “Mark! Come and join the game…” His mother encouraged, patting a seat beside her.

“Mom…my heart is beating a million miles an hour…I can hardly breathe…”

At this, Jim Vandibrough shot out of his seat, facing his son in a panic. “What?! Son, are you alright?”

”I think I’m in love.”

“Oh…” Jim sat back down, sighing under his breath. “Tell us about it.”

“She’s amazing…she’s like an angel…when I saw her today, I don’t know what happened. I just felt…almost scared.”

“Well good thing she’s gone then…what was her name?” Her mother asked, turning to face her little boy.

“Annabelle, she said.” Mark recalled the sound of the name. It seemed as sweet as honey, pleasing as the most sumptuous of sweets as it rolled off his tongue.

“Annabelle? It sounds like someone we know, dear…isn’t that the chairman’s little girl?”

“Oh, yeah!” Jim clapped his son on the back. “Great choice, son! Now all you have to do is make good friends with her, and you’ll be able to get this family into the good life for the rest of our lives.”

Mark backed away from his parents a bit. “I want to be her friend because I love her, not because she’s good for business…”

“Come on, Mark…who else is going to figure out anything about the new disease if you refuse to participate in getting this family more ‘assured status’ I suppose we could say.”

“I’m not going to fall in love because you want me to, Dad!” Mark replied in an angry huff, stomping off in the direction of his room, pouting in their direction. “I could do what you do, Dad! You’re not the smartest one in the world!”

“I’m a lot smarter than others I know, Mark! You’d do best to watch your tone with me!” Jim replied, sitting up as his son opened the door.

“By the way, the answer is the maid in the ballroom with the pistol!” Mark snapped, slamming the door shut. The family looked to one another for a moment, and blinked, Mark’s father reaching over to the answer envelope, and taking the cards out.

“My God…he’s right.”

*A few years later*

"But that’s impossible, Sarah! How on earth could our son have surpassed me in my own work?! He made an entire presentation without me about Aristotle’s faults in his views and the theological aspects of Albert Einstein!”

“You have no one to blame but yourself, Jim! You gave him the potion!”

“I know, Sarah…but either way, we can’t have our own son showing us up…we’ll have to take matters into our own hands…”

“Jim? What are you talking about?” Slowly, the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The asylum, Sarah…Red Hill is famous for it’s nut cases that pop up from time to time…all we have to do is slowly set it up. I have good connections with the right people…”

“Jim! You’re not suggesting we send our own flesh and blood into the hell house of the world!?” Sarah exclaimed, backing away. “No! There must be another way! I love our son!”

“So do I, Sarah…so we have to do what’s best…think of him, not of yourself...think of Mark.”

“Mark, do you think we’ll be together and married someday?” Annabelle asked as they strolled down by the fountain in the back of her parent’s estate, him wearing a dark fashionable suit and her in a large skirt, accompanying her white gloves that reached her wrists and her small prim shade umbrella of pale blue.

“I hope so, Annabelle.”

“You can call me Belle, Mark. According to our parents, we’re getting married someday.” She giggled, sighing.

“I know…Belle.” He lovingly stroked her cheek, picking a nearby rose as he passed a bush and presenting her the flower. “I just hope I can be good enough for you…you really want to get married to me that easily?”

“Of course I do, Mark…” Both of them were highly educated, and seemed to act more like miniature adults than teenagers. “I know it sounds rather coy, but I love you.”

“Belle…I love you too.”

“Promise you’ll never leave me, Mark…right now, here, in front of the fountain, I want you to swear to me on one knee that you’ll never leave me alone…you’ll never leave.”

He did as she said, bending down and taking her hand in his own. He would do anything for Annabelle. “My love, my only. I would do anything in the world for you. Say the word, and I’ll give you anything I possess, even my own life. I swear to you for all eternity that I’ll stay yours, and no matter what, we’ll be together. You hear that, world?! I’m in love with Annabelle, and we’re getting married someday! I love her!” He got up and faced her with a smile. “How was that?” Annabelle only giggled.

*A Few Years Later*

“Happy birthday dear brother….happy birthday to you!” The family clapped as the blonde boy leaned over the table, blowing out the candles.

“What did you wish for, honey?” Sarah asked her son, giving him an affectionate rub on his head.

“I wished…I wished to stay as happy as I am now for the rest of my life…” Mark said, smiling at his family. “Dad…I’m sorry…I know I was angry at you at first…but I realize you know best for me.”

“You do?” Jim gave his wife a look. “Mark…we’re going to give you a very special present…I’m going to let you assist with my work. You’re going to do some research for me, alright?”

“Okay, Dad!” Mark exclaimed, full of excitement. His father had never given him a change to do anything like this in his life. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to survey some of the patients of Red Hill’s asylum…I want you to watch them…take some notes. I need to know how they act…okay?”

Mark paused in his reply. “But…but, Dad! They’re scary…those people are all crazy…do I have to? I’m not going to stay there all day, am I?”

“Of course not, son! We’ll come to pick you up before the day is over…tomorrow we’re going in the morning, and your mother will come get you before the nightfall.”

“Promise?” Mark managed a small smile, wanting more than anything to please his father.

“Promise.” Mark didn’t understand as he nibbled his cake why tears slid down his mother’s cheeks.


*The Next Day*

Screams echoed throughout the halls, and Mark clung tighter to his little sister, a notepad and a ballpoint pen in his hands. Through the see-through glass, people giggled insanely, some rocking back and forth in a futile attempt to calm their minds. The cool, calm clicking of the clock was the only thing Mark could hear, for it drowned out all other things. “Big brother…I’m scared. When will you come home?” Mina leaned into her big brother for comfort.

“I’ll be back tonight, Mina. Dad promised. Mom is coming to get me…” He felt himself being pushed into a white room at the end of the hall, and blinked, confused. He couldn’t see anything from here. “Hey…” The door shut, shutting out all sound. He could see his mother crying from behind the glass, and his sister placed a hand against the clear substance, speaking, though he couldn’t hear her. “Dad, how am I supposed to see anyone from here? What’s going on?” he asked, as his family turned and began to leave. He placed a hand against his sister’s palm as it slid off the glass, watching them leave. “O-okay! I’ll wait right here!” So it began…

“Wait a second!” Mark tried to talk to the nurse as she left the room, slipping in a plate of rather sickening-looking food and disappearing without a word. “My father’s coming for me...” He looked out the barred window, where the moon bathed the land in its luminescent glowing. “He promised…but…he promised…”

This went on for several weeks, and Mark felt like he was going crazy, ironic as it was. “Where’s my father? Get him on the phone! I’ll talk to him personally!” Two or three months flew by, with still no word from his parents whatsoever. “Just let me talk to him!” His efforts were in vain. He never left the room, and never found company, albeit there were sometimes in which a nurse would come to give him an unneeded sedative to lull him to a state of near-vegetation.

*A Few Months Later*

“Hey…Number 354.”

Mark lazily lifted his head; nodding from the straightjacket they tended to put him in. “Yes?”

“You’ve got a visitor.” The burly guard left, closing the door behind him without worry. Number 354 was never any trouble to anyone, but rather became one of the quiet ones.

Mark jumped to his feet, his sister peering at him from behind the glass. Her brother looked so different. The glow in his eyes of life and happiness had disappeared, and his hair stuck out every which way like he had stuck a fork into a toaster. “Big brother…what’s happened to you?”

“Mina! Mina, where’s father?! Why hasn’t he come?! You have to tell him I’m here! Tell him I’m still here!”

“He already knows, Mark.” His little sister placed a hand on the glass, and he leaned against it longingly, wanting to feel the warmth and comfort of a human’s touch instead of the cold icy burning of sickness and inanimate objects.

“Wait, what?! He already knows? Then why hasn’t he come, Mina?”

“I don’t know, Mark…he says you’re crazy…everyone in town thinks so, too… I’m not sure what’s wrong…”

“Mina! Listen to me! You have to get me out of here! The sirens…are always going off…I think something’s wrong with me!” he pleaded, pressing his forehead against the glass. His sister continued to talk, but the speakers began to flicker off, for the woman controlling them had heard the conversation. “Mina! Help me!” he shouted as she was grabbed by the security and led out of the room. “MINA!” Just like that, she was gone.

This became the first blow. The next was nearly unbearable. A month later, or so Mark thought, another face appeared behind the glass. Her cheeks were tear-stained, and her orbs carried with them the red puffiness of sorrows untold. “Mark…hello…”

“Belle.” Mark met her at the glass, matching his hands against hers. “Belle, I’ll get out of here! Don’t cry…it’s only a matter of time…we’ll be together again, you’ll see.”

“Is it true, Mark? What everyone’s saying? My father forbids me to come, but I had to! Are you really crazy…and evil?”

“What? I’m not evil, Belle, I promise! I’m not! Why is this happening to me? What have I done? Belle, I’ll get out of here! I’ll come for you and we’ll be together, just like we promised! In front of the fountain, remember? I’ll come for you…I love you…”

She lowered her gaze, wiping away her eyes. Silence reigned on her part; she sadly removed her hand and turned away, her heart aching. “Mark…I love you, too…I’m so sorry.” With that, she left, he tears plaguing his mind.

It wasn’t until the fourth time she visited that he would finally understand why she left in tears.

*The Fourth Visit*

“Mark…” She was accompanied by Ted, who stared his friend down, his arm hooked in Belle’s.

The blonde looked from one to the other, the horrible tormenting realization dawning upon him. “Belle…what’s going on?”

“Her name is Annabelle, Mark.” Ted stated, pulling her closer into his waist.

“Mark…I can’t do this…I’m marrying Ted…I love Ted.” She leaned into his embrace for a moment as he left her side, but her insticts throbbed against it. “My parents are arranging the marriage.” Her tone pertained to that of a cold snowy night. She obviously did not want this, but she couldn't let Mark know that. This was th easiest way to let him go. She loved him so much, but she couldn't do this any longer. Her parents pushing at her, and the disease breaking out in the town...

“Hurry up, Belle. We’ve got to get back home so we can meet our parents for the dinner tonight.”

This blow pierced Mark’s heart harder than any before. “Belle…Belle!” He shouted as she began to leave, and he pounded on the glass, sinking to his knees as she turned. “Just tell me…I need to know…” His eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each, weighing him down with overflowing tears. “Just tell me…tell me you don’t love me…that’s all I need…just tell me.”

The girl paused, her breath stilling up in her throat. “Mark…stop it. We were children…we didn’t know any better.” Oh why couldn't he just make it easy on her and let her go? Why Mark?

“Belle, tell me. Just tell me. Do you love me or not?”

“….Good-bye, Mark…” She ran from the room, her sobs mixing with the constant cries of those in torment around Mark. The rest of the night, while the wind mercilessly licked his pale skin, Mark listened to those screams of pain and shock, and longed for his heart to cry out the same…he began to secretly form a plan for Ted…he was going to find out one way or another why he did this…what was going on. He didn’t have to wait long.

*A Bit Later*

One day, a very strange day, Mark woke up to find Ted in a straightjacket, sitting on his bed. Talking with him, he soon discovered that Ted had been accused of assisting Mark in an escape plan and was thrown in here. Mark wondered why on earth his father seemed so set on keeping him in here. He knew now that his parents had staged this thing, but he needed to know why. The two soon regained their friendship, but they also met with punishments. Each day, Ted was allowed out to go out and work on making shoes…strange, but a habit they allowed there. Mark would take the spare leather and hide it away, making something secretly…

“Let me out of here!” Mark tried this act once a week, always faithful to know it may work. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m Mark Vandibrough!”

“Shut up!” The stern bark over the speaker came in the room. “The Vandibrough’s have no son, idiot!”

Ted was gone working when a visitor arrived for one last time…Belle. “Why are you here?” Mark asked, looking quite handsome for a young man. True, the asylum only provided pure white uniforms, but Mark had formed a vest out of extra pieces of scrap leather, though the main strips went to his finished product. “I thought you had left…just wait…when I get out of here…”

“Mark…let’s be practical. You’re never getting out of here…I don’t know what’s happening, Mark…but maybe…maybe it’s better this way. You don’t want to be outside these walls. These keep you safe.” Her skin had become so white, he was unsure if she had a sickness of some sort or merely appeared that ghostly because of the glass and dim lighting.

“Belle…I want to be with you…what do you mean they keep me safe? Safe from what?” he responded, his eyes dim and his hope dwindling.

“Mark…I’ll always be waiting for you…just keep on hoping…keep on dreaming, okay?” She asked, her hands folded, and her pale frail frame trembling slightly. “True love will come…it’ll come through.” she managed, her throat stilling up as she tried not to cry.

“Alright…I’ll wait, too…for you, Belle. I’ll keep hoping. I’ll find you again. No matter what. I’ll find you again!” He pressed his forehead against the glass, her doing the same. Slowly, even though they never touched, their lips met on the glass. “I’ll find you…and I’ll love you... forever.”

*Later*

“Mark! It’s going to happen again!” Ted ducked in the room, pulling off the covers of the shabby bed and quickly throwing them over his friend, who huddled in the corner, clasping his ears as the tears streaked his cheeks. “It’s okay, man! It’s okay! We’re okay…we’re okay…” Ted clung to Mark as the piercing wail of the sirens began. “We’re right here, Mark…we’re okay…”
Mark huddled into his friend, clasping his shirt tightly. “Ted…I’m scared...I’m scared…what did I do wrong?!” he shouted above the constant wail, though it still wasn’t loud enough to be heard.

“Nothing, man…you didn’t do anything.” Each time the sirens sounded, it meant someone was either trying to escape, and failed. When the sirens sounded, it meant some unlucky soul found rest at last…in the arms of the electric shock treatment…or in the autopsy room, where people were frequently drugged and cut open…alive. The sound pierced their ears as Mark screamed, wishing more than anything in the world that it was over. He didn’t know it at the time, but Mark would from then on suffer from a severe case of Lygophobia.

*A Few Days Later*

“Mark! Don’t let them take me! I didn’t do anything! Don’t let them take me!” He locked hands with his friend, two nurses pulling on Mark and two pulling Ted away. “Don’t let go! Please!”

Mark felt his grip slipping slightly. “Ted! I can’t hold on! I can’t hold on much longer! Run! Don’t let them find you! Get out! It’s up to you, Ted! I can’t…” His hold was broken and his hand fell. “TED! TED!”

The door slammed, and Mark was left alone. Then he heard it. Those dreaded sirens piercing his mind. “Agh!” He clenched his head in his hands, bending down into a crouch. “Someone…anyone…”

“What’s that?!” He heard a woman’s voice from under the door.

“The kid kicked over a candle and it ignited from some gasoline leak! He’s dead, let’s go!” The reply came from a man.

That’s when the peculiar scent wafted under the door and in the room. He sniffed in curiosity…smoke. Suddenly, blood-curdling screams pierced the normal silence, even heard through the soundproof glass. Mark could catch figures running back and forth, and he ran to the door through the sirens, touching the handle in pure fear. He cried out in pain, and held his hand, kicking the door. “Hey! Get me out of here!”

The smoke began to thicken, and the fire’s glow could be seen outside his door. The sickening aroma of burning flesh reached his nose, and Mark clasped a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging. He retreated to the corner of his room, the fumes of the smoke making him woozy. Within five minutes, he had fallen unconscious.

“Is that it?!” One of the firefighters shouted to Jim Vandibrough, who was surveying the scene. His eyes were fixed upon his son’s chambers, where he noticed the huddled figure against the window. His cold gaze reflected his tone, though Sarah lunged forward, he grabbed her arm, hugging her tightly. “Let it go…” he whispered. “We’ll be better off without him…” Then he looked to the awaiting firefighters. “Yes. That’s it…let the building burn to the ground…” The small blonde sister leaped forward, her father’s grip tightening on her arm, holding her back in his strength.

“Big brother! Big brother! Hold on! Just hold on…”


*…?*

Mark had no idea what time it was, that remained no longer a factor. He only needed to know one thing…was he alive? He surveyed his surroundings in somewhat of a daze…how long had he been out? A day? A few hours? A few weeks? He looked about him in somewhat of a shock. Everything was charred, even the doors collapsed in an ashen heap.

He stumbled to his feet, exiting the asylum with his mind disoriented. Groggily, as if he had been sleeping for years, he gazed about the town. Where on earth was everyone? The town no longer found any sound or happiness, in fact, no one could be found. He passed the town sign, and looked at it, puzzled. Instead of the normal population count of one hundred and six, there was now only a single numeral, splattered in a red liquid. Mark didn’t want to think more on the matter, so he strayed away, scrambling to get to his home. As he arrived, he found himself in a state of shock. The mansion looked as if it had been older…the beams were rotting, and the paint was peeling. He knocked down the door.

“Mom? Dad? Mina? Where are you?” Nothing answered but the steady thump of Mark’s heart and the eerie whistling of the wind. “What’s happened to me?!” He moved towards a mirror, and gaped in fright. Lifting a hand to his face, he examined it, feeling his larger features. “What…” He looked down at himself, picking up a nearby torn newspaper caught in a floorboard. “A year…I’ve been unconscious for a year?! But what’s happened to everyone? Hellooooooo?”

How on earth had he survived for a full year?! It must have been a miracle…he had to rebuild the mansion, and so he set to work. He would wait, he decided. Eventually, someone would come looking for him, wouldn’t they? Of course they would. He blinked as he began to slowly fix it up, it took him several months. He raided nearby abandoned stores for food, and strangely, he found he didn’t need to eat that often. Why, he did not know. He discovered he contained a certain passion for making things and reading.

In that time of exploring the ruins of the town, he found something amazing…nursing his hurt heart, he tucked his deepest secret away in a secret passage through his study. If one placed his family portrait picture frame down, the fireplace would open, leading down to what he kept in the darkness. Swearing his life to this project, he began to slowly experiment, concocting formulas. However, his life lacked one thing…communication. Sometimes the loneliness was so severe, he could hardly stand it.


*After the End*

The town slowly began to rebuild itself, though the people strayed far from the shadow of the mansion, only whispered of the maniac that resided there mentioned Mark. Mark did find a friend, but not how he thought. One day, he found himself taking a break from his studying to enjoy a good read. Skimming through “The Invisible Man”, he heard a sudden rush of ash from his fireplace and a frantic flapping. Quickly, he placed the book down and watched a small black bird flap up above his door, squawking. He found this quite amusing, for it was much like Edgar Allen Poe’s poem. Indeed, the bird could be identified as a raven. “Hello there, friend. Something I can help you with?” From that moment on, Mark and the raven, which he named Jeremy, became best friends.

Then came the huge night… Mark created his first potion. It followed what he had been taught, and he needed to test it. Remembering the point of why he was doing this, Mark touched the case, his first successful invention. “This is for us…” He drank it down. Silently he stalked over to the sword hanging before the fireplace. Taking it down, he positioned it correctly, and stabbed himself right through. Within moments, he knew it had worked. “EUREKA!” he shouted his trademark yell. “I’ve done it!”

He ran up to his room, smearing the blood that spilled from his chest all over the walls. “I’ve done it! Father! Are you proud of me now?! Are you!?” Of course, no answer came. Mark bandaged his wound carefully, and then, after scratching a few numbers into his wall, returned to his study. “I will always keep you closest to me…I swear…someday, I’ll find it. Like you said, I’ll never give up hope or the dream…Love will pull through…I know.”

Approved by Selah

Name: Knight

Age: 27

Race: Human

Sex: ♂ (Male)

Hair: A brownish-orange color.

Eye: Dark Blue

Weight: 153 lp

Hight: 5' 11"

Weapon: Electric Banshee Shreek Sword (like Shishiwakamaru's sword on Yu Yu Hakusho, but the blade is made from thunder)(the handle looks like this going from right to left, l---E), Sonic Cannon, Beam Sword (both weapons that his robotic arm can turn into).

Armor: Heat resistant jacket, heat resistant pants, and heat resistant shoes.

Stregths: Has great speed and reflexes. Although he doesn't look like it, he's very strong.

Weeknesses: Not very good against elemental attacks (excluding thunder and fire). Doesn't have a good way to defend himself.

Skills/Magic: Knows basic and very advanced lightning magic. His best thunder attack is Bio-Thundorga, which lets him emit a powerful thunder wave from his robotic arm. Very powerful advanced fire magic, but wares him out. Best fire spell is Roneice-Blun, sets himself on fire for 3 minute and doesn't hurt him. Knows basic white (healing) magic. Speed lets him strike an enimey very fast with his sword.

Apperence:A brownish-orange hair color, down in upside-down triangles ^^^^, a piece of hair sticking out on both sides, with a black headband going across the middle of his hair. The whole left side of his face is metal. His robotic eye is just a red screen. His right eye is in a shape like half heart (looks angry). Although he doesn't look it, he is very strong. Has a metal left arm from about half way above his elbow. Can change into a sonic cannon or beam sword. Wares a black short-sleeve jacket opn in the front (you can see his Six-Pack). Two black belts going diagnally down right. The bottom belt has a holder for his sword. Long black pants that end just above his ankle. Black pointed shoes (like piccalo from DBZ).

Personality: Cold hearted to anyone he isn't close to. Serious. Always set on achieving his goal. Doesn't have a good sence of humor. Brave.

Biography: Knight was born on the outskirts of a town named Marith. Knight's mother died delivering him. He was one of two twins. The other twin, Arin, was killed by his father for how pure his energy was. His father was a evil man, a man that wanted evil to rule the universe. Since childhood Knight was raised to do evil, yet he couldn't bring himself to because his soul knew it was wrong. Knight's dad died in a battle againt a wizard from the planet Tren named Haven. His last words were "I'm proud of you son. Use you strength fo......*violently stabbed in the heart*". For two years Knight was trying to bring his dad back to life in a recovery chamber at his house/lair because he thought he changed, because of his last words. After 2 years of living in solitude trying to recover his dad with white magic, he finally brought his dad back to life, but (cursing his luck) he tried to kill Knight.

Knight's dad knew he that he was only human and wouldn't pose a real threat when trying to take over the universe, so he joined up with the powerful evil wizard, Haven, who accepted him because he had a dark soul. Acording to Knight's dad, Haven also wanted to make the universe an evil place. Two years later, Knight tracked his dad on planet Zoff. Knight was tacking his dad becouse he wanted revenge. I was in a calm dry waistland with the three suns setting of Zoff, the last battle with his dad was beginning. During the fight Knight's dad sliced part of Knight's left arm off. With both of their energys used up, Knight went in with all his strength he had left,for a final attack. Knight killed his dad. Knight heard Haven coming from the south where he was overruling the leader of the planet, so he retreted because in his condition, he would be no match. Knight treated his arm by replacing it with a robotic arm. At 20, Knight went out in search of Haven to destroy him and almost died by getting half his face blown.Knight replaced that with a half metal face. With that experience, he know he had no choice. Knight started a resistance against Haven. Not a lot is know about his seven years in the resistanc except that since there were a lot of people dead, it took forever to form and train the resistance. In a final effort against Haven, Knight was about to die at the hands of him, but then a man Kight's age saved him. The resistance had to retreat. The man who saved him tuned out to be Arin. Arin joined the resistence with Knight. Arin told Knight that he had not died because his soul was to pure. he also said that four year ago when he finally found out he had a brother, that he had found him and was watching him. Now that Arin and Knight are both working with th resistance, they swore that Haven would die.

**Approved by Selah**

Name: Erin Connors

Age: 19

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Hair: Erin’s hair is chestnut brown. Her hair is straight and goes about an inch past her shoulders. She wears a black headband to keep her hair out of her face.

Eyes: Hazel

Weight: 130 lbs

Height: 5’8

Weapon: Erin possesses a few throwing daggers that she keeps hidden in various places on her body.

Armor: None

Strengths: Erin has psychic powers. She performs her powers best when it is warm and when the sun is out. She has excellent vision and is able to throw her daggers (with her powers) extremely accurately. Irala, her Pabali companion, acts as her ears and helps her when needed.

Weakness: Erin is completely deaf. While Irala acts as her ears, she cannot hear anything herself. She cannot fight without her powers and is completely defenseless without them. She cannot do hand-to-hand combat with a weapon. She is a bit too trusting around people who she’s just met. When she meets a cute boy, she tends to stop thinking logically. Erin is particularly weak against ice and has a fear of the dark.

Skills/Magic: Erin has psychic powers and therefore can perform various attacks. She has a good control over them.

Psychokinesis-Erin is able to move objects with this attack. All she needs to do is pick an object and think about what she wants to do with it. She often uses this attack to throw her daggers. She can only perform this task with inanimate objects.

Healing Air-Erin can heal minor wounds (scrapes, minor cuts, bruises) of living creatures, both plant and animal, by thinking of it being healed. She is unable to perform this on herself.

Portal Warp-With this power, Erin can create portals that will lead her to wherever she commands it to take her. With this, Erin can travel to different parts of the world to different universes. Creating portals consumes a lot of energy and will leave Erin exhausted whenever she uses it. She prefers not to use this when fighting unless there is no other way to escape.

Appearance: Erin is very pretty. She has a heart-shaped face and her large brown eyes are framed by long eyelashes. Her skin is a light shade of olive. She has a nice figure and, while she doesn’t flaunt it, she isn’t ashamed of it either. She wears a tight, long-sleeved purple shirt that hangs off of her shoulders. Around her neck is a gold chain that has a matching cross on it. She wears dark blue jeans that flare out at the ends. Her jeans aren’t too tight and allow her to move with ease. Her shoes are black Converse sneakers which look fairly new. She carries around a dark blue backpack which holds her essential items (clothes, food, money, a hairbrush, a mirror, her camera, and her scooter).

In warm weather, Erin will roll up her pants so they resemble kapris, and her shirt sleeves will be rolled up past her elbow. In cold weather, she will wear a light blue coat and instead of her sneakers she will wear black snow boots.

Personality: Erin is very lighthearted. She is almost always cheerful and is usually seen with a smile on her face. She is very friendly and likes to communicate with people. While she rarely talks, she is fluent in sign language and Irala usually talks for her (see info for Irala). She is rarely angry, though when does loose her temper, she is uncontrollable. She enjoys taking pictures and will often take pictures of places she's been and people who she's met. Her worst fear is to become blind, for then she would be both blind and deaf. Any place that is completely dark freaks her out since she feels completely defenseless. She is somewhat vain about her appearance. She could be described as a bit of a flirt when she is attracted to someone, but flirting is all the she will do with someone.

Biography: Erin Connors was born in a small town in the north-eastern United States. She was the third female child of John and Robin Connors, although she was the second one to have been born alive. The child that had been born before her was a miscarriage, and her mother was relieved when Erin was born on time and was perfectly healthy.

When Erin was a young infant, just barely a year old, she grew sick. Strange things occurred while she was suffering. Objects would magically fall from shelves and when she cried loudly, some things even broke. Confused by what was going on, her parents constantly tried to keep their young daughter calm. When she continued suffering, her parents knew there was something wrong with her.

Her parents sent her to the hospital, hoping to figure out what was wrong with their daughter. The doctors told them that Erin was suffering from inner ear infections in both ears. They tried to save the young baby girl and have her fully recover. While Erin did survive, she lost hearing in both of her ears, and would live the rest of her life deaf. Her parents were devastated by this, but they were determined to make sure she lived a normal life despite her disability. A year later they gave birth to a third daughter.

When Erin was about five, her parents sent her to a school for deaf children. There, Erin was taught how to communicate using sign language amongst other things that a normal child learns. At first, learning these sorts of things were difficult to her. Like any frustrated child, Erin threw fits when she was frustrated. During these fits, abnormal things would occur. Objects would fly around, items would break, and she would be uncontrollable.

As she grew older, she was able to control her anger better and learn the things that had stumped her when she was younger. She was able to understand and “speak” sign language with ease, and was beginning to talk and be understood when she spoke. The random acts that would occur faded away until eventually people forgot that those things happened.

When Erin was twelve, she took a liking to walking around in the woods in her backyard. She would explore those woods for hours on end, pretending she was off adventuring. As she was traveling one day, she felt as if someone-or something-was following her. Glancing around every so often, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nevertheless, couldn’t shake off the feeling. She spotted a tree and climbed it. As she was up there, she saw a creature prowling around on the ground below her. She began to panic, wishing she was somewhere safe. She wasn’t able to climb down for fear of getting killed, but she couldn’t stay up in the tree forever. She prayed that she was somewhere else, where she would be safe from the bear. Trying to stay balanced in the tree, she kept thinking of a safe place, waiting for the bear to leave.

A moment later, the air around her began to change. It grew warmer, almost to the point where it was stifling. Erin stared in amazement as a strange place appeared before her. She could see a large field with sparkling things floating around in it. Thinking only about how this place was safer-looking that her current place, she jumped in the portal. As soon as she completely entered the new world, the portal closed up. The young girl suddenly felt exhausted and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself lying in the large field. She got up and looked around, hoping to see the sparkling thing that she had witnessed before. To her surprise, the sparkling things were butterfly-like creatures. There were hundreds of them flying around, a variety of colors and sizes. She blinked, wondering if she was dreaming. A small butterfly-like creature flew into her, catching her by surprise.

“Sorry!” a voice said to her.

“No pro-” She stopped halfway. She heard what it had said! She turned to the little creature, its purple and blue wings waving back and forth. From up close, she saw while it had wings like a butterfly, it had a body that resembled a gerbil. “How…”

“No need to speak out loud,” the voice said. It was high-pitched and girly. “Just think what you want to say to me.”

“How can I hear you? And just what the heck are you? Where am I?” The questions tumbled out from her mind.

A laughter filled her head. “You can hear me because that is one of my gifts. I can communicate to any living creature, understand any spoken language, all that stuff. As for what I am,” the voice paused, “I am a Pabali. And we don’t really have a name for this land. We just call it Home.” A high-pitched chuckle filled her head. “By the way, I’m Irala."

Erin looked at the Pabali, shocked. She was watching the small mouth of Irala and found that it wasn’t moving. “I’m Erin,” she replied.

The creature floated around Erin’s head. “You seem to have a sort of power. I can sense it in you. Are you a psychic?”

“How is that possible? Psychics are crazy people who pretend that they can see the future. And I am definitely not like that.”

Erin could hear a sigh. “Not that kind of psychic! Have you ever been able to make things move? Besides, you came here with a portal. I saw you. I can sense some healing properties in you too, though those skills may not awaken for years. If you let me stay with you, I can help you with your powers.”

Erin pushed aside the talk as crazy, but Irala was persistent. Erin finally allowed the creature to return home with her on the condition that she helped Erin open the portal back to her home. When Irala said to simply think of her home, the young girl felt stupid for not thinking of that. She followed the Pabali’s advice and opened a portal that led to her back yard. She collapsed from exhaustion once more, but Irala later assured her that practice would lead to more stamina.

As the years passed, Erin and Irala became friends until it was clear that they were close. Irala helped Erin master her powers. Erin was shocked to realize that she could heal the wounds of animals and repair plants, though she was saddened that she couldn’t heal wounds on herself. She soon gained control over her psycokinesis and was able to throw objects with accuracy. Irala worked on her with opening portals, although she told Erin that it took years to truly master portal warping.

Once Erin graduated from high school, she decided to not attend college right away and decided to travel around for a bit. She traveled to different countries via her portals and was able to communicate with them using Irala. She continues to travel, and is beginning to travel to different dimenstions.

__________________________________________________ ____________________________________________

Name: Irala

Age: 87

Race: Irala is a Pabali. They are creatures who are a combination of butterflies and gerbils. They are fairly long-lived cratures.

Sex: Female

Hair: None

Eyes: Black

Weight: 19 lbs

Height: 11 in with antennae; 10 in with wings; 8 in just body

Weapon: None-instead, her body is covered in short, light brown fur.

Armor: None

Strengths: Irala can understand any spoken language and can speak any language. She is fast when she flies and can avoid most traps. She can detect when someone has powers of some kind. She is very friendly.

Weakness: Her friendliness can be annoying to some people, often getting on people’s nerves. She is very small and very light, meaning a single hit can cause her to go flying several feet. She also cannot read.

Skills/Magic: She can speak and understand any spoken language.

Appearance:
Rising Light apologizes in advance for the poorly-drawn picture and lack of written description.

Personality: Carefree and happy are words that can describe Irala. She has a high-pitched and slightly annoying voice. She is not shy and will talk to people for hours at a time. She constantly talks and enjoys being the center of attention.

Biography: Irala was born to two Pabali, one a water Pabali and one an air Pabali. Her colors on her wings, blue and purple, represent her heritage. The pink dots on her wings show that she is a female (a male’s dots are black). Each Pabali has a special and unique gift that they are born with. In Irala’s case, she got the gift of the gab. She had a knack for talking and understands any language that is spoken. She lived her life like a normal Pabali, flying around and talking to her fellow Pabali.

When she bumped into Erin, she knew right away that she had special powers. She immediately knew that she had to accompany the young girl back home and be her mentor. When she realized the girl was deaf, she quickly decided that she would talk for her. Though most people found the little butterfly-like creature odd, only one person tried to actually squash her. Once Erin made it clear that no one would squash her, Irala knew that she would be safe with Erin and sword that she would protect her.

She lives with Erin and travels with her, helping her out when she has a question and communicating for her.

**A note to those who will RP/fight with these characters:

“Sentences like these are the thoughts that are exchanged between Erin and Irala and cannot be heard by outside people (unless they can read minds)”

Regular italicized sentences are Erin’s thoughts.

“When Irala talks to people other than Erin, she speaks out loud and can be heard clearly.”