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Post by ๐จ๐๐ก๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฌ๐๐๐จ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐จ on Jan 16, 2018 21:44:33 GMT -5
- { c l a i m ~
Bastian Giovanni Acciaio / nineteen - college / male / vampire - BIO: [ This space is where you tell us about your character, their past, their mental health, if they have any disability, what interests they have, where they are from, and what is their personality like. How do their powers/species affect their daily life? Where they born that way, or were they transformed? What is their family life like? How did they come to be at the school? On that note: The academy does not have a physical location. It appears where itโs needed and vanishes into the night. It is likely that your character found a brochure in their darkest or most influential moment in their life. Feel free to be as creative as you want! - Please do your research on things like race, homeland, sexuality, gender, species, etc. ]
- SPECIES: -- appearance: appellations are an integral part of the face that is revealed to the world. if judgments are first made on outward appearances, the next thing assessed is the name. Bastian Giovanni Acciaio. upon hearing these two words, an image is probably formed where one word dances throughout the mind of the individual: darkness. the name has such a powerful grace to it, but also an extreme uneasiness. it is powerful and dominant, just as the human who possesses this name is. Bastian dominantly stands at a principal height of six-feet with a physique that is nothing other than strapping and well taken care of. his muscles are indeed distinguishable through tight clothing, if he chooses to wear any, more so when he is not wearing a shirt. the canvas of his build is painted with a warm hue of beige. from afar, it looks as if his skin could be considered flawless, but it is far from that. he procures scarring, mainly on his back and shoulder blades. on the right side of his face on the skin protecting the zygomatic bone, which is where the cheekbone sits, begins the deep trail of a scar that runs to the middle of his cheek. the attention of this disfigurement is not always eminent due to all of the features that work together to create this young manโs face. two thick, soft angled, obsidian eyebrows, matched with his messily groomed hair, sit atop the most striking features of this male: his optics. holding a hooded profile, as they always seem to be narrowed in intimidation and observation, are two orbs swirling with a dull sterling grey hue. there are no scattered flecks of any other color as blue is already low in pigmentation, although his limbal ring is thicker than most, bringing a deeper blue into the mix. if Bastian allows for anyone to even get in the proximity of face-to-face contact to see the clear features of his eyes, they are often found stumbling over their words. his nose is broad and it sits above a set of lips that always find themselves in a smirked position. it is only through mystery and madness that the soul becomes revealed, and this could not be any truer for Bastian himself. the personality that Bastian acquires indeed matches that of his looks. at times, he is arrogant and quick-tempered. he tends to act when he should think and speak when he should listen. when someone first comes across Bastian, the walls of their mental radar are instantly brought up. he just has an โagitatorโ demeanor about him that drives people to be extremely cautious around him. he does not always follow the common rules of society, easily finding trouble anywhere he goes. it is not that he is emotionless or cold-hearted per say, although this could be greatly argued, but he just does not really think about how his actions can make others around him feel. it is not that he does not think about them, he just prefers to be an individualist and focus on himself. he is an utmost observer, noticing and remembering close to every little action anyone takes. he does not talk much, but when he does, his words are smooth and filled with authoritative principles. do not get the wrong idea of him though. there are times where he can be charming, compassionate, and overall an amusing person to be around, though rarely shown, as he feels like having a good attitude all the time makes you look weak. if somehow his walls are broken and a clear passage is made into his arcane heart, you just might get lucky and find yourself being surrounded by the positive side of Bastian as if he were a whole different person. do not expect too much of this from him, though, as he would much rather keep to himself and shut people out as often as possible.
-- species/rules of species: [ Tell us what we need to know, like biology basics, if theyโre humanoid or not, behavior, mythology if theyโre based off any, skills/powers, environment, species history and lore, society and culture, trivia, etc. If they can go to school theyโre probably fair game. Youโre allowed to go wild. We want you to be creative!! If you're not sure what you want to write & youโre waiting to develop it in-rp, thatโs fine too! This section doesnโt need to be miles-long. ]
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Post by pancake on Jan 17, 2018 2:57:47 GMT -5
-Hali Cosmos / 18, senior / male / siren -BIO: Hali was found on the shore of a beach during a heavy storm. In an act of kindness, a little old lady picked him up and decided to raise him as her very own. He was named Hali, for he was given to her by the sea. So most of his life was spent in the small port town of Sissi, Greece. It was an idyllic lifestyle, where he attended school regularly in the morning, and helped out at his adoptive Grandmother's grocery store in the afternoon. There were the occasional stalkers, of various ages and genders that usually appeared whenever he sang, but that was fine. He never questioned his origins, or where his birth parents were. He was content with where he was in life, was what he told himself. It didn't have anything to do with the nagging anxiety that gnawed at his chest, telling him that he was different from the people around him. Innately he knew, something was wrong. His skin felt too tight, too restrictive. He felt suffocated, and his day to day life felt dreamlike, and a facade that could come crashing down at any moment.
Sometimes he felt like a pair of avian-like wings belonged on his back, aligned against the ridges on his back.
But that's silly. He would tell himself repeatedly, like a chant. I'm perfectly normal.
He grew to become a distracted and flighty young man. Everyone knew him as a person who constantly had his head in the clouds. He himself felt dissociated. Within chemistry, the word dissociate means:"(with reference to a molecule) to split into separate smaller atoms, ions, or molecules, especially reversibly." And honestly? Mood.
Then one day at age 12, he grew a pair of wings. Which is as painful as it sounds. There's really no need to go into the gory details. Over the course of a month, he locked himself in his room, and his back split open and out inched huge white bird-like wings, and that's the long and short of it. The wings were soft and downy, ethereal looking despite the pain it caused. Well anyway, Hali was conflicted. Wings? He loved them, but he also hated them. With the wings came release. The feeling that he wasn't so trapped anymore. But he also felt the life he had built for himself crashing into itty bitty shards of glass, and if he took one step across the floor, his feet would be shredded to pieces by the glass shards. Somehow, while he was contemplating his decisions, a small white dove hopped into his room through the windows, holding a pamphlet. The next day he disappeared from the small town of Sissi with the small white dove, which he named Lia.
Hali is as mentioned before, flighty and spaced out. He doesn't like being anchored down to things or dealing with responsibilities. The people around him describe him as a space-case or someone with their head in the clouds. He isn't the most talkative of people, content with just listening while his friends speak, but he is capable of holding a conversation if necessary. He is a pretty relaxed and chill person, never really one to get offended or hold grudges. Hali is pansexual and has been in a couple of relationships so far. Due to his flighty nature and fear of someone understanding him too well, he ends up breaking up with everyone at the point where it gets too serious for his liking. That has resulted in numerous slaps from various people and getting accused of being a player. He seems like a dumb, shallow person until you get to know him and see that he keeps a lot of his personality under wraps. Most people say his looks make up for what he lacks in personality.
-SPECIES: Siren -appearance: Sirens throughout mythology are known to be dangerously beautiful, and Hali is no exception. He has high cheekbones with a sharp nose, a chiseled jawline, and thick, well-groomed eyebrows. He has deep-set almond-shaped eyes of a sea-green color, complete with long eyelashes. His features are sharp and cold, all lines and edges, hawk-like, and almost feminine in a weird sense. His grandma believes he's half Greek and half Turkish, as he seems to exhibit both Greek and Turkish facial features. He has light skin with constellations of freckles throughout his body, and a mop of wavy, dirty blonde hair. When the right lighting hits, he can seem almost ethereal. His ears are pierced, and he tends to wear small, gold hoop earrings. He stands at 5'9 and is pretty average in height for a greek male. His build is light, with not a lot of muscle. His wings are huge, large enough to cocoon his entire body in them. However, after a bit of training, he is able to shapeshift in order to hide his wings, which he does only when hanging out with normal people. He can also shapeshift his legs to become a pair of talons, and that's the extent of it so far. In addition to his appearance, his wings are also startlingly white, so people tend to assume that he's an angel. Little do they know, he's a human-bird creature that lures people to their death with his voice.
- species/rules of species: Sirens are half-bird, half-human creatures that lure sailors to their death with their singing. People speculate that most sirens live on an island off the coast of Greece. Hali is an average siren, with the wings, and talons. With his wings, he is able to soar around the big blue sky, granting him the feeling of freedom he's always craved. Sirens also have a voice infused with magic, allowing them to have voices so beautiful they attract people by the shore to enter the sea and drown to death. However, the more often you come into contact with a siren, the more immune you are to the effects, just like building up antibodies to an infectious disease. Hali, himself doesn't sing very often, as although he loves the arts and the like, his singing has resulted in persistent stalkers in the past.
Kwang Somsri / 19, 1st year college / female / Suea Saming Kwang was born and raised in the capital of Thailand, Bangkok. Her dad drove a cab and her mom was a housewife. They weren't very well to do and barely scraped by on her dad's wages. However, her parents worked hard to ensure she didn't starve, and that was enough for them. Although she couldn't eat huge portions of rice as other teens her age did, she was rarely hungry. They worked hard to provide for her, earning enough money to send her to primary school, and buy her textbooks and a school uniform. Kwang tried really hard to be an understanding daughter. She would not waste money on things she did not need, and from a young age, had understood her family situation. However, even if she understood, she couldn't quite grasp why out of so many families in the world, her family had to be one suffering from poverty. Her mom would tell her, "Maa noi, we have to be grateful for what we have been given. Nothing good will come out of greed." Kwang would nod and say she understood. She was content. But that was a lie. She wanted so much more.
One day, she came across a poster calling girls aged 15 for a job opportunity. Kwang was excited. She was exactly 15. What was this poster, if not a sign from some divine being? She called the number on the poster, despite the alarm bells ringing in her head that, no, she should not do this, and it was extremely sketchy. A man with a hoarse voice had answered the phone, and she enquired as to how she could apply for the job, and yes she was currently 15 years old, attending secondary school. After a long silence, the man with the hoarse voice gave her an address and the exact timing she had to report the next day. She would earn 20000 baht if she did the job. She froze. Before she could ask what she was supposed to do at her job, the man hung up, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the dial tone. 20000 baht was a lot of money for someone her age, She could use a bit of the money to treat herself to a nice meal, and still have enough to buy textbooks and the like. Even then, she would still have enough to contribute to paying the bills.
So to her job she went. She went to the location despite how sketchy it was, and despite the warnings of girls around her age disappearing. It wouldn't happen to her, she reasoned. Such kidnappings were rare, and she hadn't really heard of such cases happening in Bangkok. Maybe in the more rural areas, yes, but Bangkok was a well-developed city. The second she thought that she felt the pressure of something whacking her head, effectively knocking her out. When she woke up, she was trapped in a large metal cage. Where was she? She flicked her tail irritably. Wait. Her tail? Since when could humans have tails? "You're awake" It was the old man with the scratchy voice. He was smoking a cigarette, looking completely blissed out. " How do you like your new form?" He chuckled revealing yellowed teeth. It seemed as if he completely believed that he'd done her a service. As if everyone would want to become...... whatever she was. Her words were stuck in her throat, her tongue felt too thick, her mouth too wide. She couldn't form any words. The only form of communication she could muster were primal growls. "Have you ever heard of a Suea Saming?" the man chuckled indulgently as if talking to a particularly obstinate child, instead of an unwilling victim of science. " Well, you're one now."
Kwang is described as 'mature for her age' by many of her peers. She is a friendly person and tends to be very genuine and earnest in whatever she does. Her friends view her as the mom of the group, most of them coming to her whenever they need help or advice. Kwang is the gift that never stops giving, and shes so altruistic that she tends to give more than she can afford, and views herself as a bad person due to the limited amount she can give. However, her kind and optimistic worldview allows her to be easily tricked by the people around her. She takes everyone's words at face values, and never doubts if they are the exact truth. However, her recent experience taught her the value of not completely believing in someone's words.
-SPECIES: Suea Saming -appearance: Kwang is a small girl, standing at 5'1, or 152cm, which is small, even by Asian standards. She has long wavy dark brown hair, that reaches to the small of her back. She tends to put her hair up in a messy bun or ponytail. However, wisps of baby hair tend to trail out. Her skin is neither tan nor pale, being in the more average shade, with a yellow undertone. She has large eyes that slant downwards, and a double eyelid. If you look closely at her irises, they seem more brown than black. She has nice skin that seems to exude a rosy glow most of the time. She has normal Thai features, including a flat nose, round, egg-shaped face with chubby cheeks, and a heart-shaped mouth. Kwang would look doll-like if it wasn't for her interest in muay thai, causing her to build up some muscle. Most people would call her cute but deadly.
As a tiger, she is a vibrant orange colour, with dark, jagged black striped cutting across the length of her body. Her muscles ripple underneath her thick coat, and she looks exactly like a normal tiger, with all the speed and strength of one.
-species/rules of species: A suea saming is basically a weretiger. But only in this case, she can shapeshift back and forth at will, and is not at the mercy of the full moon.
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Post by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ on Jan 17, 2018 16:41:39 GMT -5
( venus - could I possibly join with a dragon shifter? )
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Post by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ on Jan 17, 2018 17:15:26 GMT -5
- Rhysand Vanserra / Seventeen, Junior / Male / Dragon Shifter
Credit: huffintonpost.com. You can find the link for this image here.- BIO: [ Rhysand โ who often goes simply by Rhys โ was born to an unknown set of parents in the great city of Edinburgh, who gave him up for adoption. He never knew his birth parents, and never bothered to find them โ if they didnโt care enough to keep him, why should he care enough to find them? He was bounced about in foster care for years, never seeming to fit in. He had a fiery temper even as a small child, and was known for getting into a load of trouble. Fire seemed to follow him where ever he went, though he was never charged with arson. He was โ and is โ hot blooded, quick to anger, and even faster to burn out bright. Until the time he was six, he was passed around foster homes; the reasoning for this was always โheโs too much to handle.โ
The foster home he was placed in next was the most permanent, nestled in the countryside of Inverness, though it was less than ideal. Unable to handle the young boyโs temper and gloomy mood, his foster parents sequestered him away. He was fed regularly but he wasnโt socialized; his โparentsโ had him closed off in his room, where the walls were a infuriatingly bland shade of white, the bed wasnโt particularly comfortable, the carpet was scratchy, and he had very little stimulation. Most days he laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling, or tearing the walls to shreds in his attempts to be free. They always replaced the paint. Something lurked within him โ something that longed to embrace the sky, to spread its wings and leap into the abyss.
At times, Rhys was let out of the room โ but only when the social worker came by. His foster family always present an aura of perfection; the house neat and tidy, decorated to idealistic notions, appearances trimmed, make-up perfect. Rhysand was always expected to act as though nothing was wrong โ and if he didnโt, heโd be punished. Once every few months, he was pulled from the room, dressed and groomed, and paraded in front of the social worker, who clucked happily and continued to agree to keep Rhysand โsettled,โ where he was clearly โhappyโ and โwell-adjusted.โ Illusions. All of it.
It was all a lie, and Rhys bit his tongue, swallowed his pride, and went along with it.
His foster parents never succeeded in breaking his will, though it was clear they tried. They were among the group of people in fostering that cared only about the money โ never about the childโs well-being, or happiness. It was a small, intimate club, but it was there nonetheless. When Rhysand refused to obey, they withheld meals. They supposedly home-schooled him โ or tried, but it was more along the lines of chucking books into his room and letting him figure the world out by himself. He was wild, primal, and his fury was close to bursting. The walls suffered his rage; deep, jagged claw marks ran in criss-cross patterns along that damned white paint, biting into the dry-wall and insulation beneath. More than once, he obliterated the pillows and mattress on his bed, but like always, they were replaced. His foster parents would take him out of the room โ kicking and screaming of course โ and placed him in a holding room while they fixed his mess.
For ten years, Rhys remained in that room. As he grew older, he grew more and more withdrawn.
He discovered pretty early on that he sprouted talons when his temper grew too hot, too wild. They tried to remove his claws, clipping them with nail trimmers, but they always grew back. Over time, Rhys learned he could hide them, and could call on them at will. Talons, claws โ the result was the same: chaos. Sometimes he lashed out at his parents, drawing blood, but they always healed. They were only concerned about the money โ and supposedly they were getting quite the stipend, housing the troublemaker Rhysand Vanserra. Dealing with a wild child who wasnโt quite human was simple โ they locked him away and forgot about him most of the time.
As the years passed, the thing inside him grew in strength โ and in fury. It was a fire burning within, a flickering, slow-burning flame that grew in intensity as the years ticked by. When he was seventeen, it broke free. He was laying on the bed, among the feathers of the destroyed pillows, staring at the bland, blank ceiling above him. The thing inside him was simmering, thrashing about; he could image it as a dragon, lashing its tail back and forth, gnashing is wicked fangs, raking its talons across the ground as the walls closed in on him. It was often that Rhysand found himself in a pit of desolation, but this time was different. The walls haunted him; the shadows were closing him, taunting, whispering. He slapped his hands over his ears, grinding his teeth. Of their own will, his claws extended, pricking at the skin of his scalp. He ignored the pain; the whispers were too loud, pulling him deeper and deeper into madness. Somehow heโd held onto his sanity, but his grip was loosening. In the corner, the shadows morphed, rising from the floor like a demon made of ink. It took on his foster fatherโs face, smiling at him with a mouthful of wickedly sharp teeth. Youโll never get free, it taunted him, drifting closer. It seemed to slide across the floor as if it wasnโt connected, wasnโt bound by gravity. Youโre standing in your grave. You will die here, and then I will have you.
The shadow grew close enough to touch, and its arm reached out, striking Rhys across the face. His skin stung, as if heโd been standing in a breeze that was far too cold. The shadow slammed its fist into his chest and seemed to grab his heart in its hand, squeezing painfully. Iโm going to rip out your fire forever. Say goodbye to it. His blood seemed to freeze; he couldnโt breathe. His lungs burned, but he was frozen. The shadow punched through his chest again, reaching into his very soul. He grabbed something and tugged, and the most exquisite pain heโd ever experienced rushed through him. The shadow had taken hold of something so vital, so integral to Rhys that he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that heโd die without it. The shadow tugged again, and as the darkness reached up to swallow him, Rhys cried out. โNo!โ The burning intensified, but it was different; hot, much too hot. It grew and grew and swelled within his chest, threatening to burst free. He usually kept it contained, but now he was desperate. Coughing, spluttering, Rhys lashed out, raking his claws through the shadow. It dissipated, and then reformed. โNo!" Rhys shouted again. He reached deep inside, to his very soul, and let the fire within him loose.
The next moments were a blur; the world tilted, shifted, became far more brilliant. A kaleidoscope of colors filled his few, far more than his human eyes could pick up. The shadow darted out of his view, as if trying to escape. He swung his head around, opened his mouth, and released a guttural, earth-shaking roar. The very foundations of the house seemed to quiver beneath his rage. Rhysโ last memory was the shadow, rearing up to meet him, before the world fizzled out.
Heโd learn later what had happened.
The dragon had stared down the shadow, baring his wicked fangs. He craned his neck, opened his maw, and released a wave of white-hot fire, engulfing the shadow. It disappeared in an explosion of smoke, but the fire kept coming. The wall in front of him instantly burst into flame, crackling with fury and chaos.
Chaos engulfed the house, and left nothing in its wake but ash and bone.
The dragon leapt into the sky, smashing through the roof into the dark of night. As his wings swept open and finally embraced the sky, he turned his nose north and flew, leaving ash and smoke and death and chaos in his wake.
Rhys woke later, tucked away in one of the saves hidden on the Isle of Skye, in Scotland. The world was too bright, too colorful; he closed his eyes and turned his neck at a greater angle than he thought possible. When he opened his eyes again to look upon his body, he was stunned beyond words. Crystalline, smoky, black scales covered every inch of his body. He curled his lip back over his teeth in a wild grin. He was a dragon โ no, he was a Dragon, and the world would burn beneath the shadow of his wings. There was a croaking, and he swung his head around to meet the beady gaze of a raven. It cocked its head at him, opening its beak in another croaking bark. Sitting before it was a pamphlet. Wollstonecraft Academy. Rhys left the safety of the cave, opened his wings, and leapt into the sky. Night had fallen, engulfing him in its shadow. He turned his nose to his destination, and set to the flight.
- PERSONALITY: [ Rhysand's nature is generally unpredictable in the sense that he acts as a wild animal more often than not, but is predictable in the sense that he will usually ignore any orders thrown his way, is strongly self-reliant, and has a vengeful streak as long as the river Thames. He's quiet and brooding, observant, and scarily intelligent. He's good at reading people, considering that his unblinking stare tends to focus intently on one person for a while. While he has the ability to speak, and has the necessary manners to function in normal society, Rhyne's unconventional upbringing means that he acts more animal โ more dragon - than man; most of his communication is nonverbal, in the form of gestures, snarls, growls, and other similar sounds. He's jumpy and paranoid, and doesn't trust many people - in fact, there isn't one person that he can easily name that he trusts. His upbringing drilled it into his head when he was little that he was on his own, and no one would risk their neck to save him. That being said, Rhysand is fiercely loyal to those he deems as a friend โ a real, honest friend - and will go to nearly any length to protect his companions, even if he doesn't like them. He will not risk his life, though; his self-preservation instinct is intensely strong. Despite his reluctance to speak, Rhysand has the ability to speak a few languages, including English, Spanish, and French, and can rapidly learn new languages thanks to his near-photographic memory. His memory has served him well over the years, but be warned - if you cross Rhysand, he will hunt you down. Rhysand can hold a grudge with the best of them. He does not forget, and he does not forgive. Due to his childhood, Rhysand has severe claustrophobia and a crippling - I mean crippling - fear of confinement, cages and anything that chains him and restricts him from free movement.
-APPEARANCE: [ Few words can accurately describe Rhysand, but the chiefest of the words that are relatively successful is feral. Although he looks, talks and walks like a human, there is something primal about Rhyne, a feral undertone that seems to flash in his golden eyes and buzz in his aura. Rhyne is relatively tall, standing over six-feet, and is built for his lifestyle. He's toned and fit, lean muscled and agile to allow him the speed and maneuverability to escape or fight when the need arises. He refuses outright to be confined in any sense of the word. He seems to have a feline-like build, lean and sleek, but still strong and able to hold his own. His face is built of rugged, yet smooth, lines, a straight, proud nose, average lips, and a strong chin. His eyes are what usually have people unsettled; they're a molten gold, akin to a wolf's, snakeโs, or a large cat's, a blend of yellow and amber that combines to form a wild, primal coloring. The feral aspect that seems to surround Rhysand is only intensified by his gaze, which is often unblinking and unwavering. His shoulders are slightly broad, his hands are calloused, and stubble lines his jaw. His hair is black, punctuated by a few strands of gray and silver. His eyebrows are in proportion to the rest of his face, and his golden eyes are lined by dark eyelashes the same shade as his hair. More often than not heโs dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a nondescript shirt.
Rhysandโs dragon form is his most preferred, though he understands most people are not accustomed to it. He easily sixty feet from nose to tail, with a vast wingspan large enough to support his bulk. Dark colored scales, predominately black, cover his form, blending into an ashen gray around his belly, throat, muzzle, and the underside of his wings. A line of spikes run down the length of his spine, ranging from nearly two-feet in length, like those between his shoulders and wings, to a few inches, like those that line his nostrils and mouth. Two backwards sloping horns extend from the back of his skull, giving him an even more menacing appearance. Naturally his maw is lined with wickedly sharp teeth. Each foot โ or paw โ is lined with five digits; three fingers and two thumbs, each adorned with a retractable talon, similar to a catโs. His wings are jointed in such a manner that theyโre fully opposable, meaning he can extend them in almost any direction.
-SPECIES: [ Similar to a werewolf, Rhysand is a being with two forms, one of which is humanoid, the other of which is draconic. Unlike werewolves, however, Rhysand is not bound by the moonโs cycle, and can shift at will. His temper can trigger his shift as well. Rhysand is a Dragon Shifter, hailing somewhat from mythology. Dragons have had a spot in mythology of countless civilizations for eons. In China, the dragon was depicted as a snake-like beast with for legs, but no wings. Naga were the serpentine creature of India, hooded like cobras, and might have a multitude of heads. Catalan dragons were serpent-like creatures with two legs, and occasionally a pair of wings. Often their faces resembled other animals, and they had a burning, poisonous breath. Wyverns were another common form; two legs and two wings marked something as a wyvern, and they were often used in medieval heraldry. Rhysandโs dragon form reflects that of Welsh mythology; a beast with four legs and a pair of wings, able to breath fire. When he is not in his dragon form, Rhsyand can partially shift, summoning talons from his fingertips. He is immune to fire and has some control over it, in that he can influence the strength of a blaze. He has the potential to summon fire at will, but has not learned such a skill. Shifting requires a lot of calories, so Rhys eats more than most do. Any wound sustained in his dragon form will reflect itself to his human form - for example, a broken wing will reflect itself as a broken wrist - and although he heals faster as a dragon, shifting while injured has the potential to kill him. His dragon has a quick temper, doesn't take insult (whether sarcastic or not) well, preens over compliments, and is prone to spitting fire at inopportune times.
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Post by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ on Jan 17, 2018 22:47:01 GMT -5
[ Finished Rhys ^^ ]
[ at some point I'll probably make a gryphon. Could I claim that as well? <3 ]
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Pansexual
Sparkly
Unofficial Forum President, and the unofficial patrol saint of black cats with blue eyes.
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Post by Sparkly on Jan 18, 2018 4:43:38 GMT -5
- Aurora Mirren / 16, Year 11/ Female / Kitsune - BIO: Aurora is extremely spirited, energetic, excitable, and brave. She can be very immature, also. Aurora can fake emotions easily, and can easily work her way into important locations, and pose as people that she's not. Due to previous experience, Aurora can easily fly under the radar in most countries. Aurora has many insecurities, and despite her innocent outer appearance, actually has a very dark and jaded mind. Aurora has extremely low self-esteem, but hides it well. Aurora was born a Kitsune, as all generally are. However, after her parents were killed by accident, she had to hide as a human, going to a normal school. However, she never truly fit in. One day, she found a flyer on the ground outside. The flyer was for the academy, and she immediately decided to attend. - Please do your research on things like race, homeland, sexuality, gender, species, etc. ] - SPECIES: -- Appearance: In human form, Aurora has long, thick, brown hair, which looks almost ginger in the sun. She usually wears it up in a ponytail, except when she's sleeping, when she uses a bun. She has caucasian skin, which usually tans, not burns. Aurora has greeny-blueish-grey eyes, with green flecks towards the pupil. She tends to bite her nails and the area around her nails. Aurora usually wears a t-shirt and black leggings, or jeans. However, when she wears jeans, there are only a few pairs that she finds comfortable. If she absolutely has to, she'll wear formal attire, but hates it when she has to. In fox form, she appears to be a normal fox - Except, she has three tails. As she grows older, she will grow more tails. -- Species/Rules of species: Kitsunes are generally humanoid, but they can shape-shift into foxes. As they grow older, they get more tails in fox form, up to nine. When they get their ninth tail, their fox form's fur turns white or gold. Kitsune are often presented as tricksters, with motives that vary from mischief to malevolence. Stories tell of kitsune playing tricks on overly proud samurai, greedy merchants, and boastful commoners, while the crueler ones abuse poor tradesmen and farmers or devout Buddhist monks. Their victims are usually men. For example, kitsune are thought to employ their magic to lead travelers astray in the manner of a will o' the wisp. Another tactic is for the kitsune to confuse its target with illusions or visions. Other common goals of trickster kitsune include seduction, theft of food, the humiliation of the prideful, or vengeance for a perceived slight. Each kitsune possesses a small white ball, known as a Star Ball, which is somewhat of an external form of the kitsune's life force. If you possess a kitsune's Star Ball, the kitsune will follow your every command. However, as kitsunes hate being controlled, as soon as the kitsune gets free, it will hunt you down and, most likely, kill you. Kitsune are believed to possess superior intelligence, long life, and magical powers. After reaching 1,000 years of age and gaining its ninth tail, a kitsune turns a golden colour, becoming a 'Tenko' (ๅคฉ็ "heavenly fox"/"celestial fox"), the most powerful form of the kitsune, and then ascends to the heavens.
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Post by venus on Jan 18, 2018 14:47:47 GMT -5
Sparkly sorry, minimum age allowed for characters is 16. please make sure you read all of my rules thoroughly. & the school year system is like american high school and college years c:
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Post by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ on Jan 18, 2018 16:14:34 GMT -5
[ Finished Rhys ^^ ] [ at some point I'll probably make a gryphon. Could I claim that as well? <3 ] venus - just double checking (:
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Post by venus on Jan 18, 2018 16:22:28 GMT -5
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Post by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ on Jan 18, 2018 16:58:08 GMT -5
( cool thanks )
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