Ame Damnee Revelree's Characters

[Revelree]

Spoiler: Version 1: Without Memories

Name: Xena Mythriel Al’vyon
Aliases: Commonly referred to as Xena and hates it when she’s called Mythriel.
Titles:

• The Siren –a faceless title, bestowed upon the cloaked petite young lady that occasionally strolls around the streets of Abaddon, singing on top of the clock tower, her voice echoing through the whole City at midnight. The Siren enchants, and the crowd sways, entranced. She is usually seen at the time of the festivals as well, indulging on the music and the art and all the other things the City has to offer. Rumor has it that she’s untouchable, and if you dare try something on her, madness will fall upon you.

Role: Noble/Healer and Herbalist

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good
Affiliations: Al’vyon Household
Hometown: Abaddon
Relationships:

• Errol (current servant/ bodyguard)

Race: Daemon
Subrace: Vampire
Age: 113 (looks somewhere between 17-20 years old of mortal age)
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Xena stands at 5’4 and has an almost delicate-looking, petite frame. She has amber eyes and pale creamy skin, contrasting a bit to her curly auburn brown hair that fell down to her back. She looks rather young, with a gentle set of features, and remarkably pretty in an innocent, cute kind of way.
Equipment: Xena have no clue on how to fight, so all she had was her silver necklace with a gemstone for luck and protection. It was an heirloom from her family lineage. Every once in a while, she wears her cloak as well, a white wool cloak that looked old and ratty, but was actually a magical item used to intensify the effect of her powers. She usually uses it when healing dire injuries, or when singing to a big crowd. She also has a small bag she usually totes around, filled with herbs, antiseptics, bandages and other things that she'll need in case she needed to apply some first aid while on the road.

Bio/History:
Ever since she was little, Xena loved Abaddon. It was her home. It was where the bards sing and the merchants lie their impressive goods, it was a place for celebration and happiness, a place to look for the pleasure life has to offer. She loved the festivals most of all. She could not think of a better place in the world than Abaddon.

Or so she thought. Until she was hit with reality. She had always known that despite the beauty of the city in the surface, ugly scars lie within. She knew of it, but she tried to forget. She pretended not to know. In the end though, she couldn’t resist it. She wanted to see the scars for herself. Going down to see the underground side of Abaddon was probably the best and worst decision of her life. Worst because for one, the image of her beloved home in her head will never be the same. But on the other hand, it was also the best, because she saved a life, and gained an irreplaceable ally, a beloved friend.

That one night when she decided to go to the dark side of the Abaddon being the same day Errol was there in the slave market, dying, was a fateful encounter. She had only noticed him because he was screaming like he’s in pain, and the slave traders are kicking and trying to knock him out because it’s bad for business, and to her it was just natural to help. The slave traders told her he’s dangerous, but she didn’t care. He’s a patient that needed her help. She couldn’t just let him die, not when she can do something.

He was a remarkable patient. When he woke up, he never complained. He did ask questions though, questions she answered honestly with all her might, and although he didn’t say much about his past she had a good idea what he’s been through. For a while, she chastised herself for it. Because even though she had seen the worst she still couldn’t help but love her home. Even though she had seen what pain the system could bring to other people. People like Errol. For weeks she tried to think of whether or not she should leave and live somewhere else, but she was conflicted. The feeling of conflict alienated her from the home she used to so love, and it wasn’t until Errol recovered that she felt close enough to him to ask what he thinks. He just shrugged, smiled sadly, and placed his hand on her head, as if he was the older one among them. “If you don’t want to leave, don’t.” he had said. It was simple, almost unsatisfyingly so. But for some reason, it eased her and made her realize that Abaddon will still be Abaddon: the city of the damned. There was nothing she could do about it. Likewise, there was nothing to stop her from trying.

That’s why every few nights she would don her cloak and walk around her home to the clock tower, and sing the gentle songs Errol loved. While the crowd was enchanted, Errol took care of things just as she asked him to. Strange things happen when the Siren sings. Slaves and people about to be tortured or raped disappearing are only one of them. There was a slave trader who seemed to have gone mad. A torturer was found dead in his own torture chamber. Drug addicts find themselves snorting nothing. Why is that?

Perhaps to the citizens of Abaddon it will remain a mystery.

Personality:
Xena is a good-natured person, the type that just couldn’t help but help a person in need. Whether it was to soothe the body or the soul, she knew just the right way to make people feel better. She’s the type of person with that infectious smile, so sweet and natural that it tugs at your heartstrings. That is the kind of effect she has on people. She is quite friendly, smiles a lot, and blushes easily, and would rather listen than talk. She easily gets shy or embarrassed, and to many this may make her seem like a passive and compliant person, but when she wants to accomplish something she is passionate, brave and determined. She is by no means a pushover no matter how delicate she may seem. When she wants things done, it will be done. Xena hated murder most of all, but she knew that some people deserve it. Even though she will rather not have people killed, sometimes it was necessary evil. That’s the kind of morality she upholds.

Combat Prowess: Xena has no clue when it comes to fighting, but she won’t be entirely useless in a fight. Rather than being the front liner, she prefers to stay in the side to support through her special abilities.
Spells/Powers: The core of Xena’s powers is her affinity for all things good, thus making her very skillful in healing magic. There are two subtypes to her powers: physical healing and emotional healing. Physical healing was easy enough, she just had to touch a person and concentrate. Depending on how dire the wounds are, she’ll probably have to apply actual medicine and first aid as well. Emotional healing was a bit more complicated. It was going out there into the hearts of your patients, to open up and feel all the good things life is all about. Through this, she uses her talent for music and her voice as a vessel through which the magic will flow through. It puts people in a trancelike state where they seem to be only fixated on her, and will afterwards make her target listener feel motivated and refreshed.
Weakness: As a daemon of the subrace of vampires, Xena has all the abilities that sets vampires apart from all the other races. However, as she is still rather young and untrained, she is only slightly stronger than the average human, and certainly no match for all the other vampires in Abaddon. Weaknesses of common vampires such as sun-sickness applies to her as well. Xena has a soft heart, which makes her emotionally weak in a way. She always doubts herself one way or another, always not quite sure if what she’s doing is right, but in the end she still somehow pulls through.

​

Skills:

• Playing the piano and singing– skills she learned as a child.
• Herbal medicine and first aid – Since Xena always wanted to help people, she had made a name for herself for being an herbalist in Abaddon, with people coming in on her shop to ask advice for health and medicine.

Additional Information:

This is hardly an ability, but for some reason, Xena seemed to always gather good fortune. Even before she didn’t have the necklace of their family, she has always won through small bets and lottery, and the necklace only seemed to intensify her natural luck.

Name: Xena Mythriel Al’vyon​

Aliases: Commonly referred to as Xena and hates it when she’s called Mythriel.
Titles:

• The Sin of Pride– Her title as a Harbinger, inherited when she has killed the last Pride in a duel.

Role: Harbinger/Healer and Herbalist

Moral Alignment: True Neutral
Affiliations: The Harbingers, Circle of Sanctity
Hometown: Abaddon
Relationships: Xena shows great compassion to people she considers are close to her heart. Among them is Errol, her current servant/bodyguard, as well as all the other Harbingers that she considers her family. Among the Harbingers, the people she cared about the most was Alma (her father figure), as well as Maric Vakarian, a person she wasn't quite sure how to feel about yet, but feels a deep, genuine affection to. She bears a small lost love and a slight resentment to Taran Caelis Titan for his actions, seeing him as someone who tried to control her by giving her a fake life. There is one old friend she has not remembered yet at this point, Cazimir Heskel.

Race: Daemon
Subrace: Vampire (previously human)
Age: 321 (looks somewhere around 19 years old of mortal age)
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Xena stands at 5’4 and has an almost delicate-looking, petite frame. She has amber eyes and pale creamy skin, contrasting a bit to her curly auburn brown hair that fell down to her back. She looks rather young, with a gentle set of features, and remarkably pretty in an innocent, cute kind of way. Her eyes, however, sometimes holds a dark and slightly cruel light, and it is at these moments that makes one realize she was something more than her delicate visage implies.

Equipment: Xena has a silver necklace with a blue gemstone that for luck and protection, a necklace that was given to her by Taran. every once in a while, she wears an old, slightly worn down white cloak that Alma has crafted for her, a cloak that has the effect of intensifying her powers. She mostly uses it for healing dire injuries, as well as when she's on a long journey or travel. She also has a small bag she usually totes around, filled with herbs, antiseptics, bandages and other things that she'll need in case she needed while on the road.

Bio/History:
Xena was a human girl born into a town inhabited by Aditi worshippers, one of the first factions of what will soon be the Circle of Sanctity. She was born as a child of that faction’s Overseer. She seemed like a being of such purity, and so they “baptized” her to be blessed by Aditi. The goddess favored them for their devotion, and granted the child a great affinity to healing magic, as well as enhanced empathy: the ability to hear heartbeats and feel the emotions and physical pain of people around her, which aids in diagnosis and recovery. Overjoyed, the faction raised the child, calling her “Aditi’s gift to mankind”.

Xena lived a fairly sheltered and well-cared childhood. Slowly her gift developed, and while she had started to feel distressed by the magnitude of her gift, her parents made sure to give her some time alone, to recover and feel at ease with the silence. When she was eight, however, the pirates of the Dying Heart raided her home, and she watched as it was burned to the ground, watched as everyone she loved was killed, felt all their pain and emotion and heard their heartbeats die out. At that moment her gift might as well have been a curse, she just felt so powerless. Seeing her as useful for her healing abilities, they took her as a part of their ship, essentially forcing her to heal and interact with her town's killers. Her few years in the ship corrupted her with rage and the idea of revenge and retribution, as well the sin of powerlessnessness. Her distress on her gift has taken over her, because of the fact she never had any moments of silence, it almost drove her insane. But she bided her time, slowly getting stronger, and once she was strong enough, she murdered the entire crew under their noses.

She lived a few months on that ship, taking interest in dissecting the bodies to learn more about anatomy, in the thoughts of how the knowledge could save people someday. That was around the time Alma found and adopted her, taking her as an apprentice, and giving her a new home in his tower. She was fourteen. There she met the Harbingers, and became a part of them when she was around eighteen years old, by killing off the previous Pride for arrogance and insulting Alma. Since then, she has become more involved with their activity, creating atrocious crimes and killing people and burning down cities.

When the Harbingers fell 300 years ago, Xena and Alma took the biggest damage, since they were the ones who sealed Legion, surviving within an inch of their lives. Xena's soul was crushed, and her lover at that time, Taran Caelis Titan, brought her back by making a deal with the Devil, and giving off half his soul to sustain her. She was turned into a vampire and was stripped of her previous identity and was given false memories, and for a time, she lived like a sweet, honest, healer/noblewoman from Abaddon. Until the day the attack in the Clocktower happened, her contact with Wroth and Maric making the memories rush back in her, and for the first time in 300 years, she was back to her old self, her morals getting slowly remolded, turning her into a person that was not quite like innocent persona, but not quite like her harbinger persona either.

Personality:
Xena takes pride in everything she does, whether in her healing, in her relationships, or in her personal beliefs and morality. She can be quite hardheaded and stubborn, occasionally, much like her harbinger self, and sometimes cynical of people she had just met. But under that exterior, she has retained some of the characteristics of her more innocent persona, the life she had lived when Taran got rid of her harbinger memories. The sweet, kindly woman who wanted to help people was still there, inside of her. And while she is no longer that innocent and will no longer blanch at the sight of cruelty and murder, she believes she has to do something for the sake of the greater good. She has no idea what it could be, but only time will tell.

Combat Prowess:
Spells/Powers:
Weakness: As a daemon of the subrace of vampires, Xena has all the abilities that sets vampires apart from all the other races.

The necklace's pendant.
View full here.
*Credits to RyunaSiege.​

Skills:

• Playing the piano and singing– skills she learned as a child.
• Herbal medicine and first aid – Since Xena always wanted to help people, she had made a name for herself for being an herbalist in Abaddon, with people coming in to her shop to ask advice for health and medicine.
• Dissection and torture- skills she had honed in her harbinger days

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

 

[Revelree]

Name: Errol
Aliases: Occasionally referred to by Xena as simply “E”.
Titles:

• The Guard Dog - a sarcastic title bestowed upon him from the fact that he never seems to leave Xena’s side, as if the whole purpose of his existence was to guard alongside her.
• Phantomslayer – a faceless title, bestowed upon him because of the work he had done for his previous Master. It was given to the silent assassin that has been killing nobles a few years ago before suddenly disappearing off the face of Abaddon. Rumor has it that the phantomslayer was neither seen nor heard in his conquests for death.

Role: A noble’s servant/ bodyguard

Moral Alignment: True Neutral
Affiliations: Al’vyon Household
Hometown: Abaddon
Relationships:

• Eltheya (biological sister, deceased)
• Rodrick Valden (former master, deceased)
• Xena Mythriel Al’vyon (current master, living)

Race: Human
Age: Unknown, looks like he’s in his early twenties
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Errol stands at 6’1 and has a lithe but athletic build. He has midnight black hair and silver gray eyes with a pale red ring that seemed to intensify in color whenever he used his special abilities. He is always wearing dark clothes with the only reason being that it was easier to blend in the shadows. He was quite good-looking but not remarkably so. A tattoo-like brand of a snake was placed on the right side of his shoulder, snaking down to his chest in front of his heart. He also had a couple of scars, most prominent are the scars of whips at his back.
Equipment: Errol usually prefers to wear a coat, and while usually seems unarmed, actually has two small pocketknives hidden inside his sleeves, which he was experienced enough to summon with a flick of his hand at a moment’s notice.

Bio/History:
Errol has been a slave for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know any relatives, except for his sister, who he adored with all his heart, as she was his whole world. They were, eventually, sold to a cruel daemon who only cared about himself and his money: Rodrick Valden. While he was trained to do the dirty work like murder and assassinations, his sister was made to do domestic labor and tending to the visitors and to their master’s commands. For the longest time he wanted to break free, take her with him and go out to Oblivion. They almost managed to escape, but they were caught. Valden didn’t like that, and so he separated them, and then branded him the tattoo to make sure he won’t disobey them again. The tattoo wasn’t an ordinary tattoo, it was a familiar, a lesser daemon that has served his Master’s family. It was put there by the Valden household as a precautionary measure, that should he ever disobey or lay a hand on his Master, will snake upon his neck and grant him a most painful death. For years he didn’t know what happened to his sister. He would try to find her, and the familiar would report it, and then he’ll receive the punishment of whips at his back. When the Master found this troublesome, he offered a deal, that his sister would be kept safe for as long as he was obedient. Errol didn’t trust him, but he complied. It’s not like there is anything else he could do.

One night, Valden got drunk as Errol stood by at his Master’s side with the expressionless face he had perfected (as the Master doesn’t seem to like it when he shows disgust and hatred at him, which are the only expressions he can give him). He found out a dark truth from the slip of the tongue: her sister has been sold to a whorehouse and has long been dead. That night, he snapped, he didn’t care about anything anymore. This was when he discovered the extents of his power. As he imagined all the things he wanted to do to the bastard, he managed to actually delve into his drunk mind and make him feel all the pain of it. That night, he murdered his Master, in cold blood as he was used to, and the only thing that stopped him from tearing his limbs apart bit by bit was the paralyzing shot of poison as the familiar bit him, making him lose consciousness.

When he woke up he was back with the slave traders, chained up. He was disoriented, as the pain of the slow poison acted upon him making him feel like he was burning inside out. He might have screamed once or twice, and the traders did all their best to shut him up. He wasn’t sure how long that was, it felt like forever. He wanted to just finally die, but he was chained up and unable to do anything to hasten his death. That was when they met. The events were a blur to his senses, but she touched him, and slowly his body cooled up, and he was finally able to rest and sleep.

For weeks he was bedridden, with the young noble taking care of him, unbecoming of her rank. He was awed. He had not experienced such kindness before. He had found out that after he brutally killed his Master, he was sent back to the slave traders as damaged goods, where he was meant to be disposed of. That was when she saw him, bought him, and treated him, easing the poison out of his system and healing him. When he had finally completely recovered, she told him that he was free to go, to go to Oblivion or New Eden as he pleases, but he refused. He owed to her his life. From the moment she had healed him, it was hers.

Personality:
Errol is the kind of person who doesn’t like crowds and prefers to be alone. He is an introvert through and through. When he meets new people, he will always be slightly suspicious, as it is in his nature. Furthermore, Errol doesn’t have much of a moral compass. He will do whatever it is asked of him, and won’t blink in committing murder, as he has been desensitized from feelings of guilt since he was young. He always has his guard up, unless it was when he was alone with Xena, where he is relaxed and shows off a ghost of what could have been: a silent but tame and gentle personality that would’ve been him if his eyes weren’t opened into the darkness of the world early in his life. He, more often than not, easily gets irritated, but these thoughts are usually kept deep in his thoughts, unless provoked.

At first glance, Errol will look like he is devoid of personality. Cold, blank, emotionless--- these words suit well on how he looks like whenever he is seen standing at Xena’s side. He speaks very little, oftentimes not at all, nonchalant and staring off into space as if he could not care less about what’s happening around him. However, under his cold facade is the unswerving loyalty and devotion he has to his current master. To him, she was angel. He admired her sweet smile and kind nature. She cared for him, looked after him and rebuilt him to the kind of person who can enjoy life. That is why he had sworn to protect her for as long as he lived. He will get rid of anything and anyone that may pose a threat to her safety.

Combat Prowess: Errol is skilled in hand to hand combat, and actually had a knack of sneaking behind people. He isn’t quite as strong as a daemon would be, but he was quick and agile, and eerily quiet in his attacks. He moves in stealth, using efficient moves to take down enemies cleanly. Thus his reputation as the phantomslayer.
Spells/Powers: The core of Errol’s abilities is to manipulate perception. That is, rather than manipulating the world around him, he manipulates the way his enemies perceive the world around them by tweaking their senses, and trapping his target into their own minds. He can make seconds feel like a lifetime, or make simple objects look like horrid monsters, etc, all in his target’s point of view. In the right circumstances he can warp a person’s mind enough to shape him into the most detailed of hallucinations. In the ideal circumstance he could also shut down the targets senses completely, putting him in a trance-like state of zero external stimuli, the surest way to drive a person insane. His ability was the reason why he was never seen or heard in his previous assassinations.
Weakness: When it comes to using his ability, Errol only had two options. That is, either to center and focus his ability to use full and powerful control on one target, or spread it thin on a group of people and lessen the effect. The greater the extent of his control, the greater the toll on his body, as the ability can easily tire him if used for a long time. On the other hand, his protectiveness to Xena also poses as a weakness, as he would rather die than have her harmed. He has horrible social skills, and can only seem to get along with Xena, and even though he wanted to try talking to other people, he is honestly clueless as to how.

Skills:

• Stealth – a skill he developed through his years in doing assassinations.
• Cooking – As Xena’s personal servant, he was used to the girl forgetting that it’s time to eat, especially when she’s engrossed in a certain subject. To make sure this doesn’t happen, he learned how to cook and prepare meals for her.
• Playing Instruments – on their spare time, Xena would usually play the piano. She taught him how to do it so he could play the instrument with her. Over time he developed a liking for music.

Additional Information:
The Valden Household familiar (known to Errol only as Nil) indeed poisoned Errol as he was ordered to, although he didn’t quite like Valden either. He had intentionally given Errol a very slow poison in hopes that he’ll be saved. He was the closest to a companion Errol had while he was serving his former master.

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

 

[Revelree]

Name: Sunil Seva
Aliases: Nil
Titles:

• The Guardian Spirit – A title given to him as a golem, a reference to his duty of protecting the Circle of Sanctity and its members at all cost.

Role: A protector of the Circle of Sanctity, Cult Member

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Affiliations: Circle of Sanctity, Valden Household
Hometown: Abaddon
Relationships:

• Rodrick Valden (co-maker and master, cult member, deceased)
• Hi’dric Varon Normell (maker, overseer of the Circle of Sanctity)

Race: Golem
Subrace: Shapeshifter
Age: Looks about 13 years old
Sexual Orientation: Asexual

Appearance: Sunil has dark blue hair and turquoise eyes with flecks of gold in it, making him stand out easily in a crowd. Standing at about 4’7”, he has the physique of a kid that hasn't quite reached puberty yet, but looks promising for the future. He had looked the same for the past few decades, his body that was not originally his own never changing.

Spoiler: Other Forms

• Serpent - has a size of 2 feet and looks akin to a small snake, but a hundred times more deadly. Nil in serpent form can thrive in land and water. In this form, he makes use of his body and his strong muscles to strangle the target by the neck. This form also has poison in its fangs and he can control the effectiveness and how long it will take the poison to kill it's target.

  

• Wolf - with the dimensions of about 4 feet tall and about 8-9 feet wide, Nil in his wolf form is massive, and big enough to carry people in his back. His speed can max out at 90 km/hr when running.

• Eagle - has a length of 84 cm and a wingspan of 1.8 meters, Nil at eagle form has the maximum speed of 160 km/hr. He can fly great heights and distances in this form, has razor sharp claws and a very clear eyesight.

Equipment: Sunil didn't seem to have any weapons or equipment; his weapon is his shapeshifting body.

Bio/History:
Sunil was made in desperation one night when Rodrick Valden’s son died, leaving the empty shell of his corpse behind. Being a necromancer, he tried over and over again to revive the corpse, but no avail. So he sought the help of the Overseer, and with the help of his dark magic, Sunil was born… a sentient golem with the only reason for existence was to serve his masters and protect the Circle of Sanctity. For a time, Sunil was under Rodrick’s care, and was treated like his son, but as it slowly became apparent that Sunil was different, he had started to become unstable and treated him like a normal servant. After a time, his essence was trapped in a tattoo to guard his most valuable slave, Errol, but when Rodrick died, he was left trapped and bound to Errol. Silently he wondered if his Master had really died. Perhaps he didn’t. Knowing him, he must have been tethering between life and death, trying to cheat the latter.

That one day in the Town Square was a turning point. He felt his binding snap. Whatever may have happened, he wasn’t sure, but perhaps Death has finally won over his previous Master. Wandering, clueless, he was back to his human form after so long, unsure of what to do now. But his feet brought him to the Necropolis for some reason, feeling drawn to it, and soon enough, he figured out why. There, his other maker stood, and he realized his other reason for existence became something he had forgotten. Not anymore.

Personality:
Sunil is a timid but also intelligent young man with a knack of learning. While he's usually silent, he can easily fall into hour long conversations of subjects that interests him. While he is smart and logical, he can, however, be painfully naive about other things that people are expected to know, like social cues. He is submissive to norms and laws given to him, and is extremely loyal to his makers. Despite being a golem though, he seems to have free will.

Combat Prowess: Sunil doesn't seem to like to fight much, although in the small chances that he does, he actually has an affinity for close combat. His fingernails can morph into claws, similar to that of a wolf. He is also very fast and agile, most likely because of his small frame. His reaction time, coordination and instincts can rival that of a stronger, older daemon, although he seems to like keeping a low profile as much as possible. When he’s trying to truly kill someone, however, he usually transforms into one of his three other forms.

Spells/Powers: Sunil doesn't seem to have much magical abilities, other than his shapeshifting.

Weakness: Sunil is quite vulnerable to medium to high types of magic. His only weapon was the he changes shape, and nothing else, making him very susceptible to injury.

Spoiler: Nil: the Gates of Hell

Name: None
Aliases: Prefers to call himself Nil which means Zero, Nonexistent, Nothingness
Title(s): The Gates of Hell
Role: The Guardian Spirit of Hell

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Affiliations: Former servant of Satan
Hometown: Hell
Relationships: Sunil is more or less friends with Phobos. He holds great respect for Hi'dric Varon Normell for being able to pull him out of Hell in the first place, as well as Errol who had become a sort of companion of his for a few years. He has a strange fascination with Xena Mythriel Al'vyon, driven by his desire to corrupt her, as well as Kaleo, which stems from him liking the man's strong will, having kept Phobos inside while staying fairly sane.

Race: Hellspawn
Subrace: Spirit
Age: As old as Hell itself
Gender: Nil has no gender, he simply assumes the gender of the host he is currently inhabiting.
Sexual Orientation: Asexual

Appearance: His current host is the body of Sunil Seva, a vampire child who has died at a young age of thirteen, and his appearance is as stated above.
Equipment: None

Combat Prowess: Nil simply assumes the combat prowess of the host he is currently inhabiting.
Spells/Powers: Like the combat prowess, Nil simply assumes the spells and powers of his host body, however, there will always be a power that is entirely his, the dark, shadowy form that was the closest it could be to his original form.

Weaknesses: Nil, in his most original form, was not a being made to remember, feel, or even be alive. That is why when he was brought to Terrestria, memories, emotions and feelings confuse him greatly, and so he can be quite inconsistent, and just utterly strange and eccentric. Another weakness of his brought to the surface by Phobos was his fear: that is, to come back to hell and go back to how he was: being nothing, which to him was the same as being dead. Oblivion was his greatest fear, as well as a lack of purpose.

Personality: Nil does not have a personality of his own. He usually takes on the personality of his host, but there was something else in there that's entirely his, a strange desire for chaos and insanity and to see people's damnation, to see them all fall down to hell. This was driven by his twisted desire not to be alone, that if he was to go back to that wretched place, he will see the people he had come to like again.
Skills: The ability to sort out which people are already doomed to hell and which ones still needs a little more push towards corruption.

Bio/History:
Nil was created by Satan as the Gates of Hell, a guardian spirit, living for the sole purpose of guarding hell and nothing else. He had no use for memories or emotions. He simply is. With Phobos's escape, he was apparently badly injured (although he does not remember this) and this aided him to be pulled into a ritual started by Hi'dric Varon Normell, who unknowingly pulled out his consciousness and placed him into the dead body of Sunil Seva, and it was then that he started to get a grasp of conciousness, it was then that he started to be sentient. he had started to love his name, his body, the people around him, that he did not want to go back anymore, He just wants to simply wander about Terrestria and feel... alive. Realizing that his host body was deteriorating was the start, he had started to make drastic choices, fooling himself into forgetting what he truly is (which was easy as he had a very fleeting grasp on memory) and into believing he is very loyal to the cause of the Circle of Sanctity. He will do anything and everything in his power not to go back, but in case that he did, he's going to drag every person he liked down to hell with him.

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

 

[Revelree]

Name: Rene’ilyah
Aliases: Renee
Titles: N/A
Role: Daughter of a Warden

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good
Affiliations: N/A
Hometown: New Eden
Relationships:​

• Rikbiel (Warden, father, deceased)​
• Mother (Unnamed, died when she was little)​

Race: Angel
Subrace: N/A
Age: looks about 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Renee stands at 5’4 and has a fit well-proportioned body. Albeit a little petite, she did not look delicate at all, with the way she carries herself with an almost obnoxious sense of confidence. She has scarlet hair and eyes, lightly tanned skin, and a beautiful pair of white wings with golden streaks on them. She looks quite pretty, as well.
Equipment: Renee usually has a bag she totes around everywhere, nobody seemed to know what the contents are. In truth, it was a bagful of art materials, pencils, pens, brushes, ink, paints and the like, as well as the sketchbook journal that was very important to her.

Bio/History:
Renee's father was a man of honor, a very respectable warden. That is why, even as a child, she was taught to act appropriately, with grace, confidence and an aura of power. She trained hard on combat, magic and learned a lot on leadership and the like. Her father reminded her over and over, that he expected her to follow in his footsteps. When she was younger, she didn’t mind. She loved her father, and would do anything he wanted. She idolized him, looked up to him. But day by day the training days left her feeling sad and hollow. She was unhappy. It was then one day that she had wandered into the cathedral, and watched Uriel draw. She was so young and it was so long ago that he probably doesn’t remember. But she does. That day she had fallen in love with art, fascinated by the colors and forms. That day, an artist was born.

His father wasn’t so pleased when he found out. That instead of practicing her sword skills, she was reading books on anatomy. Instead of practicing on offensive magic, she instead developed strange spells that his father deemed useless. She was so mad when he tore apart her artworks that she snapped at him, for the very first time in her life. For the very first time in her life, she fought back on his plans for her future. She didn’t want to become a Warden, not anymore. He would hear none of it, and for the next few years she was bound by the shackles of her father’s expectations, only able to practice art in secrecy. She was plotting to run away, perhaps go to Abaddon even, where she had heard that art was considered with high respect. Maybe she can make a name for herself. She was sick of her father’s controlling nature, she would go anywhere where she could be free. One day his father left for work. She thought that was the day she can go, her chance to leave…

She did get her wish, although not the way she wanted. Her father never came back alive, but only a cloth covered corpse, one of many, came back. The news came by as a shock, a numbing feeling creeping in her chest. No matter how many arguments they had, he was still her father.

The price had been too great. Nonetheless, she was free. Finally.

Personality:
At the surface, Renee seems to be rather selfish and vain. She defies authority, a rebel child, and seems to have no care for anyone other than herself. That, however, is not exactly true. Renee is a sensitive, imaginative person, although she was not raised to be one. She was raised to be witty, confident and tough: a strong woman. And a strong woman she did become. But under the shell she had made to hide herself from her father was the passion to create, the passion for art. She is also frank, rarely embarrassed and not afraid to express her opinions, however it may hurt people. She believes that honesty is the best policy, and while she this didn’t make her likeable, she simply believed that people who cannot take her as she is are not worthy of her time. Renee is the type of person who valued freedom most of all. And that’s why for her freedom, she will be stubborn, she will not comply.

Combat Prowess: Having been raised at the expectation of being a Warden, Renee is quite adept to hand to hand combat. She is quite fast and agile as well, able to move on her feet or with her wings whenever needed.
Spells/Powers: The core of Renee’s power is the power to create. Using any surface, she can draw a figure and breathe them into life. Living things and nonliving things alike, she can create them easily with a couple of strokes. They act like golems, without free will or thought, as they are after all only figures animated by her mind. The more detailed the figure is, the more realistic and strong the counterpart will be. She can also dispose of them easily whenever she wants to, as with a single command they could just crumble to pieces at her feet.
Weakness: Since she has been training since she was little, she didn’t get much chances to interact with people other than her father, and so she now has horrible social skills. That is why she is rarely liked by people. She also finds a lot of trouble expressing herself to others, the medium of which she only able to express herself is through her art.
Skills:​

• Artistic talents – these are skills she has fine-tuned as a child since meeting Uriel​
• Swordplay – a skill she had learned from her father.​

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.​

 

[Revelree]

Name: Cazimir Heskel
Aliases: Sometimes may be referred to as Caz, although he usually prefers Cazimir.
Titles:

• The Slasher – a title that could a reference to his skilled swordsmanship, or his bad habit of slicing people who pissed him off.

Role: Master of Loot

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Affiliations: Underground
Hometown: Abaddon, but now lives in New Eden
Relationships:
Nobody knows about his family and his past. As he has a habit of jumping from woman to woman, or sometimes pursuing several at a time, he has a lot of smooth and rocky relationships with his subjects. These days he has been into Minerva (his willing victim) and a couple of other beautiful young women in New Eden, as the city is full of them. For some strange reason, he seems to have an immense hatred to Taran, and despite being in the same organization, never has he been seen talking to or about him, as if he doesn’t even acknowledge Taran’s existence. Nobody knows what has occurred between the two, and Cazimir prefers it to stay that way. Every once in a while, Cazimir indulges in a sparring with Rene’ilyah, having known the girl for a little while. Although they are not quite so close, Renee has a certain respect to him for being a skilled swordsman.

Race: Daemon
Subrace: Half-Incubus, Half- Seelie
Age: Unknown. However, he seems to talk as if he’s been around for at least a few hundred years. He appears to be in mid-20’s.
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Cazimir stands at 6’2 and has a dancer’s body, lithe but fit and fairly athletic. He has quite long, silver hair that fades to red around the tips, warm skin like cocoa, and golden eyes. Perhaps it was his natural looks, or the effect of his nature as an incubus, but he is insanely good-looking, a trait he knew well how to monopolize. He usually wears simple pants and a thin shirt, but would sometimes walk around shamelessly topless. When he does this, a sun birthmark can be seen, right below where the scars where his torn wings had been.

Equipment: Cazimir appreciates simplicity, so he just usually carries his sword and his black gloves that are made out of the hide of some unknown beast he had killed in Oblitus. The gloves were light and very durable, and are not easily cut by blades and such, allowing him more ways and freedom to counterattack opponents.

Bio/History:
Little is known about Cazimir’s life before he had become part of the Underground. He easily feeds people the information that he was born in Abaddon, at one point decided to leave, and that he had lived a couple of years by himself in Oblitus before settling into New Eden. Why he left his hometown was left in mystery to his current colleagues. At this point in his life, he doesn’t seem to have any goals or motivation, so he is simply getting by and trying not to get bored with his everyday life.

In truth, his story started when his mother, the Seelie Queen was seduced by an unknown man one night, who turns out to be an incubus. That night he was conceived, a child born of sin, doomed to live a life of rejection even before he was born. The Seelie King was enraged in this act of adultery, and wanted the Queen executed at first. However, at the last minute, he gave her mercy and had her banished instead, but not without a catch. The Seelie Queen was so adamant at wanting to keep the baby, however, the mother's love that saved him will also ruin his life. Because the mother cannot kill the child whom she so loved, the child will kill everyone he will ever love...

It was a curse. Put upon him by the King even before he was even born. A repayment for the sin he did not commit. It was a curse that he cannot run away from. Unknowingly, his mother has raised him to be a fine man, in the slowly growing town of what will soon become Abaddon. He learned swordsmanship, arithmetic, art, and many other subjects from his mother. He adored her, more and more, everyday, as they lived their simple lives. When he woke up one day seeing her dead body on the ground, blood everywhere on their tiny home--- dripping towards the floor, smeared against the walls, splashed across the curtains--- he didn't realize who did it at first. He was shocked. He couldn't keep the image out of his mind for days. And yet the victims started piling up: his closest friends, his esteemed parent figures, they all started to fall one by one like leaves of a tree in autumn. The memories started hazy, as their screams haunted his nightmares, and soon enough word came out. He was treated an outcast, only given looks of alarm and disgust. He lived for years like that, confused, unwilling to interact with people anymore, as he had started getting the pattern. Every person he cares about... will die.

"A curse? Interesting." was the first statement she made when they first met. A young girl barely of age, human, breakable. And yet she walked with the confidence of an alley cat, like she owned the world. The first thing she did when they first met is rip out his wings, rather unceremoniously. It hurt, and he was horribly enraged. He hated her suddenly barraging in his solitude with her sickly sweet smile, ripping out the traits that made him his mother's son. And yet she only smiled even more and held out her hand towards him. "Hate me, Cazimir. Hate me... and be my friend."

She was a strange one.

He later learned that the girl was part of a group, the Harbingers. A group so vile and ruthless in murdering people that they were known throughout Terrestria. He didn't really care, and yet day by the day the girl will walk into his humble shack in the middle of nowhere, talking about life, dreams, and many other things that were quite philosophical or inspirational. Before she starts though, she will always do something that will make him frown in disgust and disapproval. Sometimes it's quite as simple as ruing an ice sculpture he worked so hard to perfect, to outright killing what he hoped was a powerless animal and gutting it in front of him. Sometimes, she'll even stab him as well. One thing he noticed was that she never seemed to enjoy the things she has been doing. "Tasteless", she once said. It has become obvious with time that she had been tricking his curse, making his feelings for her so twisted with many different emotions that it was impossible to tell whether he liked or hated her. But Cazimir appreciated the company. She was the closest thing he could consider a friend. They were like that for years, occasionally going out into the city, and from her he learned a thing or two.

With the decline of the Harbingers, she went missing as well. It took a lot of time, a few decades of waiting, but when she came back she was... different. Very different. He knew if he stayed close to her now he'd only end up killing her. And so he ran. Away from his hometown, into Oblitus, New Eden-- anywhere. Away from her. He took every opportunity to drown out his misery, everything that may give him a thrill, just to forget the fact that he's an empty husk of a man that cannot ever have anything or anyone to treasure. Over the years, he had built up a reputation. He had pursued girls that interested him, but never took it too far, in a precaution to keep them safe from himself. He jumped from place to place, never staying in one place for too long. That is... until he found the underground.

Personality:
Cazimir is a notorious charmer and a player. He walks through people’s lives in a path of destruction, leaving broken hearts at his wake… and he honestly could not care less. He has the confidence of a man that is attractive and knows it--- and as such, he likes making use of his natural abilities to get what he wanted, whenever he wanted. He could not care what is wrong and what is right, and will usually just go with what amuses him more. He thinks the Underground is an ironic thing to be placed under a city of angels, and that is exactly why he goes with it. For amusement. To soothe him in his boring, lonely, meaningless life. Lonely... yes. Other people would not be aware, but Cazimir bears a certain loneliness if one will dig deep enough, a regret of not being able to protect the people he loved, and that is why he had stopped bothering to care. A justified reasoning of his is that if he stayed selfish, he would not have to experience the pain of losing someone again.

Combat Prowess: Cazimir is an excellent swordsman. Compared to most however, his swordplay has no form, and fighting against him is like dancing to an unpredictable and overwhelming beat--- one that usually has a grim and abrupt ending.

Spells/Powers: Aside from the usual skill set of an incubus (that is; irresistible charm and dream manipulation), Cazimir specializes in ice magic. He incorporates this magic remarkably well in his swordplay by adding a lot of creativity and variations in his attacks. His sword, essentially, is made of ice, one he can melt and unmelt at will. He could easily fashion another sword for as long as he has access to water.

Weakness: Cazimir can be rather short-tempered, especially in issues where Taran is concerned. Despite his age, he is also rather immature. As he is overly confident with his skills as a swordsman, he had long refused to use his ice magic in anything else other than aiding him in his swordplay.

Skills:

• Swordsmanship
• Pickpocketing, robbery, dealing with people, etc. – skills that has earned him his position as the Master of Loot

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

 

[Revelree]

Name: Celeste
Aliases: N/A
Titles: Unknown
Role: Unknown

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Affiliations: Unknown
Hometown: Oblitus
Relationships: Celeste had small affection to her "friends" Serin and Allanah.

Race: Unseelie Faery
Subrace: Djinn
Age: Unknown, looks about 20
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Celeste stands at 5”4’. She has red eyes, messy chocolate brown hair that falls down her back, and large glasses that cover most of her eyes. She looks fairly young, with pale skin, and is usually carries herself with a certain elegance.

Equipment: Celeste wears glasses made from pure Azuris, helping her regulate the ability that her eyes have given her.

Bio/History:
Not much is known about Celeste and her origins. The farthest one can trace down is when she met the fortuneteller Serin in Oblitus, and nonchalantly decided to make a contract with him, giving him one of her abilities in an exchange to see the future. At that time, she seemed to be hiding from someone or something, and her body has already started showing the signs of dying. In that future, she saw her fate, the death crawling on her body, and the promise of an escape, a new beginning: in the form of Allanah, a young girl she was bound to meet in Yadressil Forest, decades later.

Celeste bided her time, not because she was desperate to live, but simply because she liked the promise of adventure. Allanah fascinated her, such a sweet, clueless girl, and when they met, she befriended her, helped her, mentored her in controlling her abilities. She truly liked Al, she really did, which is what made the idea of manipulating her even more appealing.

One day, Celeste had confessed: her body was dying. At that time, she had only a few years at most to live. Allanah, disturbed by this fact, wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help her. Celeste decided to give her pitch: with Al's life magic, it may be possible. But her inexperience and hesitation stops it from reaching its true, full potential. They decided to make a contract, something Celeste rigged. With Allanah's naivety and complete trust in her, she had managed to make her a sign a contract that gives her access to her body. However, Al had managed to figure out her real intentions, at the last minute, although it was already too late. By sheer willpower and heat of the moment, the girl trapped her soul in the body she was trying to snatch and forced it into dormancy, effectively putting the body to sleep and imprisoning it with magic using one of the old trees in the forest. As a result, she was trapped in a body that refused to wake up, albeit being very mentally aware herself. While she was not able to move Al's body to her will, she was still able to mess with Allanah, raging a silent war of domination over her original body. Occasionally, Al's resolve would falter, and Celeste gains control for a little while, but these moments are fleeting.

Celeste didn't mind. In fact, it made things more... interesting.

Personality:
Celeste is a coy, seductive woman who enjoyed playing with people as often as she wanted. She gets off on violence, manipulation, hatred... and this is because even as a child, she had never known how it is to feel genuine emotions. All her actions have a common goal: to make her feel as less bored with her existence as possible, and to find something, anything, that could make her feel. For this she exploited people, burned towns to the grown, massacred the innocent. So far, however, it has only been a fruitless pursuit.

Spells/Powers: Celeste has a couple of powers at her disposal. As a faery, she has her wings which aids her in flight. As a djinn, she can create contracts with people. With her eyes, has the ability to “see” souls and the darkness within them, and she uses her glasses to control this ability, as it could be quite overwhelming in a populated city. She also has an affinity to psychic abilities, and is very well versed in telepathy. Her wings have fairy dust as well, with its effects being that the dust were like small diamond knives that can tear a person’s flesh apart slowly on contact, or tear their insides slowly when inhaled. She could even control their movement in the air, or pack the particles close to create small flexible weapons out of them.

Weakness: Because of a failed contract, her original body has been slowly dying. And because of Allanah, she cannot control the body she had snatched either. At the moment, she has not much power to do much about her situation.

Skills:

• Manipulation

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

Al's original body, trapped in Yadressil Forest

Name: Allanah
Aliases: Al
Titles: N/A
Role: Staff at the Recreation Hall Library, Violinist

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good
Affiliations: Recreation Hall Library staff
Hometown: Oblitus
Relationships: To be Discussed

Race: Unseelie Faery
Subrace: Djinn
Age: looks about 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Allanah stands at 5”4’. She has red eyes, messy chocolate brown hair that falls down her back, and large glasses that cover most of her eyes. She looks fairly young, with pale skin, and is usually seen with rumpled clothes and a bright, happy expression on her face.

Equipment: All Allanah has are her violin and her glasses, whose lenses are made from the faery mineral, in order to help her see. Or rather, unsee.

Bio/History:
After the fall of the Kingdoms, Allanah’s parents has fled and settled down in Oblitus. She was born and raised there, in the company of a complete family. She was taught how to play the violin, how to read and write, etc. by her parents alone. Once she grew up, she decided to live on her own, and with her parents’ blessing, she left for Abaddon. She had not heard from them since.

Her journey to Abaddon had not been a pleasant one, to say the least. Deadly forests, treacherous deserts, but she was determined. Why? She could not exactly remember. Things before that day has always felt blurry and unreal. Before she met… her. A stranger with red eyes, a sly smile and seductive words. She accepted her company eagerly, not expecting anything bad to happen. Her naivety has been her doom. A binding was established… a contract.

Things have never been the same since.

Personality:
At the surface, Allanah seems to be just your everyday clumsy and passionate librarian. She’s cheerful, innocent and charming. But if one sees her while she’s playing her violin, they will see the melancholy in her eyes. Perhaps it was simply because of her preference to play sad songs that tug to the heart, or perhaps it was because of something else. Allanah has a strange habit of staring into space sometimes, and whenever she does not have her glasses people find themselves referring to her as an odd girl, especially because she gets very anxious and jumpy.

Combat Prowess: As the girl is not physically adept and very clumsy, it is unlikely that she will ever have any prowess in hand to hand combat.

Spells/Powers: Allanah a couple of powers at her disposal. As a faery, she has her wings which aids her in flight. As a djinn, she can create contracts with people, although this was not something she is fond of using. Allanah, with her eyes, has the ability to “see” souls and the darkness within them, and she uses her glasses to control this ability, as it could be quite overwhelming in a populated city like Abaddon. She also has an affinity to psychic abilities, and is very well versed in telepathy. Her wings have fairy dust as well, with its effects being that the dust were like small diamond knives that can tear a person’s flesh apart slowly on contact, or tear their insides slowly when inhaled. Given some practice and expertise, she could even control their movement in the air. She didn’t like using this ability either. For some reason she seemed to be rather uneasy about her own abilities, and would rather not use any of them.

Weakness: Even though in the face of danger, she stubbornly refuses to use any of her abilities, and would rather live as a boring, bland citizen. Her telepathy can only hear surface thoughts, and she would not be able to connect with people unless they have given her permission to do so.

Skills:

• Library management– a part of her job
• Playing the violin

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.

 

[Revelree]

Name: Cato L'astaer
Aliases: Cato
Titles:

• The Fallen Demon – a “title” only whispered about, in reference to his previous position and his now fallen state down the ranks. But his reputation as a “demon” has also been continually perpetuated by the fact that he can trick you into eating the nastiest things if you happen to be unlucky.

Role: Cook at the Fortune Slave, former First Mate of the last Captain

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Affiliations: Fortune Slave Pirates
Hometown: Oblitus
Relationships:
Cato was close to his family, particularly to a younger sister that he had not seen in ages. His first love, Piper, was a shipwright who died in an unfair treatment from his previous captain. He does not show much resentment nor approval to the new leadership, almost as if he was just watching, always trying to gauge how good or bad they are at managing things in the ship. He was friendly to Navyra and Cassandra Xilstine, and it was actually Cass who made his gun for him so won’t be entirely defenseless in battle. Some of the members of the previous crew who had surrendered from mere fear hold him in slight contempt, regarding him as a traitor and a coward. He doesn’t seem to mind.

Race: Elf
Subrace: High Elf
Age: 276 (Looks about 23)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Appearance: Cato has emerald green eyes, lightly tanned skin and messy wheat blond hair. Standing at 6”0', he has a lithe and fairly athletic build. He was always smiling more often than not, and while his eyes held some sadness in it, only a select few knows why.

Equipment: Cato does not have much equipment as he usually creates what weapons he needed by himself, except for a gold-plated polished gun that Cassandra Xilstine made for him that he liked to call Windbreaker, a custom made pistol that shoots bullets that he crafts himself from his wind-solidifying abilities.

Bio/History:
Cato doesn't remember much of his childhood, nor does he remember his parents, but he remembered the pain. He was an orphan who was taken in and raised in the household of a cult, the older sects of the Circle of Sanctity, who worshiped the goddess Aditi. The cult has been much too hungry and crazy in their devotion that they started exploiting children, trying to make them into vessels of Aditi, or sacrificial lambs. Cato was lucky (or unlucky) enough to be chosen as one of the former, and every day he endured whatever craziness the leaders were up to, he remembered that. But he doesn’t remember breaking down from the pain and creating a sonic boom that knocked everyone out in a quarter-mile radius around him. That was how a middle-aged High elf found him, lying unconscious amidst the town ruins, half-dead. He revived and healed him, but the last act of desperation has taken a huge toll on his young body. And when he woke up, he was deaf.

He later found out that the High Elf was a traveler. He had been kind to him, treated him as if he was his own son, and taught him the ways of the world. He taught him of ways to control his powers, take advantage of his magical abilities and cope with his disability, and soon enough he was living a normal life with him. One day, his adoptive father met a nomadic faery in one of their travels, they fell in love, and gave birth to a baby sister, an adorable little thing with blonde hair and blue eyes. With her birth, their small family settled down in Oblitus, and as much fun it was living as a happy family, Cato felt a craving inside him. He craved to travel some more, see the world, the world he was deprived of as a child. This was something his father openly encouraged, and with a nod and a pat on the back, he set off, promising to stay in touch when he could, or visit when he’s nearby. He first came to Abaddon, and upon reading about an island on the city library, he set his eyes on his prize.

It was a couple of more years bouncing about when he first got recruited into a pirate ship. The Fortune Pirates was not that huge of a crew back then, and he started from bottom up, and soon enough he was the Captain’s favorite, and his right hand man. There he met his first love: Piper, the shipwright at the time, a rather grumpy, but energetic woman, one he loved to tease. The crew has done some violent and dark missions, but he really doesn’t mind. His childhood and years in Abaddon has already given him a rather lax moral compass. But her death was the first time the wickedness of their ways hit him in the face, killed by the captain mercilessly over a petty and unfair argument.

He bided his time. He didn’t speak a word, didn’t show his disapproval, but as time passed he slowly started to hate most of the crew, who didn’t give a shit on Piper's death. He had thought they had more sense of camaraderie, but apparently he was wrong. He started to hate the vile captain more and more over time, and was on the verge of killing him himself when Z and the others prompted a mutiny, aiming to take over the ship, and the first time he did when he found out was to smile and say: “Great. Be my guest.”

Cato did not bother to lift a finger as most of the crew fought and died against the new rising leadership. Nor did he bother to defend his position. He had lost his interest on getting his prize, lost the thrill he felt whenever he fights. For a while he wondered whether he should just give up on the whole pirate thing and move on, but something was stopping him: the desire to look after the ship that was Piper's pride and joy, and the curiosity to see how the new crew will turn out. That’s why in the end, he decided to stay in the ship, taking the position that seemed to be one most people avoided for lack of cooking prowess. He was, however, a decent cook, better than most everyone in the pirate crew, and over time he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to get fond of this new family.

Personality:
In his younger days, Cato brandishes his charm like a weapon, and almost easily bends people to his will with the charismatic smile he so likes to wear. He used to be more fickle and reckless, but since Piper died and the following mutiny he became more mature, dependable, loyal and sharp, especially when it comes to more serious things. Still, it does not change the fact that he is indeed, every once in a while, a troublemaker. When it comes to him there is only basically one rule to live by: If you don’t want strange and nasty things in your food, never piss him off.

Combat Prowess: Cato was, at one point, a seasoned fighter, one of the most dangerous enemies you could make. Fast, agile, as swift as his element, an opponent could face him, blink, and in the next second suddenly drop dead. His expertise and creativity in using his powers was what made him deadly, his knack of suddenly running in the air, his almost invisible weapons, his barriers and cages--- it was not a mystery how he had gotten recognition from the previous captain at the time. However, since Piper's death and the mutiny, he seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for fighting, and since then has only used the gun Cassandra made for him, and only when necessary.

Spells/Powers: Cato is a high elf specializing in wind and sound magic, although he uses the wind bit more in fighting, and the sound in his everyday life. He can manipulate wind and solidify it into any form he wanted, the more complex it is, the higher concentration he had to give. Solidifying wind was tricky, and as he usually says: Wind does not like to be restrained. But as long as it was an image he can easily think of in his head, he should theoretically be able to make it. His sound manipulation abilities are significantly less developed than his wind manipulation, mostly because for someone like him who can only feel and not hear it, he did not want to make any mistakes he would regret. His own sonic boom, after all, was what had killed some of the cult members, and was what had given the disability he had today. However, he uses it to feel the vibrations around him, in other to pick up words and loud noises. Even at a young age, he had memorized how different words and sounds “feel” with his father’s help. And although he still needs some help like lip reading and cold reading on conversations, he could easily pick up his name shouted in a crowd. As a result, nobody has even realized yet that he was deaf, and he’d like to keep it that way.

Weakness: Aside from the fact that he cannot hear, Cato has another problem. It was not a fact he advertises, but it was something Cassandra was aware of at the time she made the gun for him. As of late, he was having trouble bending wind to his will. He could make objects easily, but the moment he tries to use it on anything useful (i.e., stab a guy with a wind dagger), it dissipates back into air. That’s why he contented himself on using his gun. The small bullets were a lot easier to keep together. Perhaps it was because of lack of resolve, or his newfound lack of interest in fighting, but to him it was almost as if wind has its own mind, and it does not bow to a weak master.

Skills:

• Cooking and making food look actually good
• Lip reading and cold reading

*Credits to the owner of the art. It will be removed upon the artist's request.