Kingdom↠ Shahiti Position↠ Prince Full Name↠ Kieran Price Nickname↠ The actual, literal prince of darkness has no need for such things. A lifetime ago, however, he allowed a certain someone to refer to him as "Kiki"...and bemoaned its use by others. Age↠ 23 Birthday↠ October 31st Height↠ 6'1" Weight↠ 214 lbs. Powers↡
Phantom Snare - Kieran can draw tendrils born from the shadows upon a target, entrapping them in the darkness and allowing him to bend them to his will. This can include objects or even people. Since the events of his imprisonment, this ability of his has grown greatly in strength. More interestingly, however, is that the speed his shadows react to his needs has skyrocketed- almost as if they now act on their own accord.
Blinded By The Dark - Kieran can make people lose their ability to perceive light, drowning their vision in absolute darkness. This ability originally manifested as the ability to see in the darkness, but experiments done to him by Izolda transformed that power to its current state.
Personality↡ Kieran presents himself as an utter sadist, and the more you grovel beneath his heel the happier he'll be. With a flare for the dramatic, he'll make as big of a show out of torturing you as he can. However, he only exhibits this sort of behavior when he believes himself to be on the top of the food chain. When he senses there are bigger threats at hand, he won't hesitate to lie, steal, and cheat his way to survive. Thoughts of his inevitable demise haunt his every waking moment, and he'll do whatever it takes to scrape by until he can erase that one weakness entirely. Unfortunately for him, however, his ego and pride can sometimes get in the way of that.
Political Opinion↠ Kieran puts himself above all others, even his own homeland, but there are a few kingdoms he has strong feelings towards. Firstly, he has quite mixed feelings towards Alore. On the one hand, he can never forgive them for taking his beloved from him. On the other hand, he'd still be a frail imbecile had it not been for his dark rebirth. Corthyr concerns him greatly, to the point of having made special arrangements to protect himself from the poisons that ravaged his travel party. The warriors from Mars would make for good pawns, but are too stuck in their ways to rule absolutely. Shahiti and Luna share the night, so he tends to tolerate people from the latter nation as long as they stay out of his way.
Biography↡ The youngest of the Price siblings, born to the king's second wife, Kieran was once a rather cheery boy. This greatly troubled his father, as he had hoped that with Kieran his curse to have weak children had finally been lifted. Still, the king wasn't as displeased as he could've been. At the very least, he wasn't a woman like Violetta. He could see use in him. This allowed Kieran some freedom that he might not have gotten otherwise, although it did not free him from the torturous lessons his father would instill upon him. Instead of radicalizing him to follow his father's beliefs, however, such strife would cause the opposite reaction.
As he grew older, Kieran became more vocal about his stances and spoke out against the methods the armies of Shahiti used during the war. And as his opinions solidified, so too did a relationship with his childhood sweetheart. She was Emery Malachi, a duchess who shared the same pacifistic ideology that had been introduced to him by his uncle. Soon enough, they were wed. Shortly after, at the age of 19, he asked his father to go on a tour through safe zones inhabited by the army with his beloved. Kieran's intent was to try and instill directly upon the soldiers that while fighting for their country was ever important, they did not need to be the monsters of the night the world thought them as. This is where things went horribly wrong.
While trekking between camps with his wife and a handful of guards, they were ambushed and kept prisoner by individuals who claimed to be from Alore. Trying to get information only a royal might have from Kieran, they used various methods of torture to try and get information from him. But Kieran didn't budge, in a sense. He wasn't directly trying to withhold intel per se, but his refusal thus far to follow in his father's footsteps meant he hadn't the faintest idea about some of the things they asked him about.
In a last ditch effort to get information of at least some usefulness from the young man, they gave him an ultimatum: tell them what they need to know of they would kill his wife in front of him. Kieran screamed, cried, pleaded with them not to. He didn't know anything. He didn't know!
But they didn't listen. Or they just didn't care. Either way, Kieran was forced to witness his Emery murdered in front of his eyes. But they didn't just stop at killing her. All that was left of her was a hollow shadow.
Something in Kieran broke in that moment. The light of his life was now forever lost to him. Even worse, these pigs thought they had a right to just mangle his beloved like that? Take her away from him? What right did they have? How dare they? How dare they!? HOW DARE THEY?!?
From inside of that broken shell, something new was born: pure, unbridled hate. The shadows never paid him much mind before, but they seemingly reacted to this hate and sprung to life with greater force than ever before. Tendrils of phantom darkness surrounded his captors, doing to them what they did to his wife and more in a wild display of brutality. It was in this manic state that Kieran had an epiphany: Shahiti did not need to worry about whether its people were seen as monsters or not. The world was full of them. Diplomacy? Morals? If the people of squeaky clean Alore didn't care truly about those things, what did that say about the other kingdoms? And if that was the case, THEN WHY THE ******** SHOULD HE?
Kieran returned to his kingdom a changed man, no longer the weak-minded idealist who failed to save his wife. While the rest of his family were less than thrilled to see that their younger brother had come to embrace his father's ideals, the king appeared thrilled that his lessons had finally sunk in.
Kieran used his newfound favor with his father to his advantage, gaining influence in the scientific community of Shahiti for his "contributions". In particular, he allowed experiments to be performed on him by one Izolda Ergorova in order for him to attain even greater power. He would perform errands for her in exchange, even going as far as the black market of Uilum on one forgetful occasion. But this was not enough. Kieran needed absolute power. To rule. To conquer over all, so that none could ever control his life again! To that end, he would need dominion beyond even the land of darkness.
Far above even the royal crown of Shahiti, there was one thing Kieran knew in the back of his mind that would always rule over him: the rules of nature. Of life and death. Or at least, that was what society told him. But if man could conquer the dark, master all forms of nature and element, why was this denied to them? Why did the world think it could deny him any more than it already did by taking away his beloved? This could not go unpunished, so Kieran worked tirelessly to find a cure for humanity's ailment so that he may rid himself once and for all of his one true weakness.
Kieran cared little about the war's end, although it did mean that he had to become more discreet in his dealings as eyes turned back inward. The creation of Utopia Academy further complicated things, as it took with it one of Kieran's prized scientists. The nerve. With the king insisting that he too attend, Kieran was given little in the way of options. Still, he saw the school as having at least some use for him. This was his chance to prove himself a better heir than either of his siblings could ever be. Better yet, there were great plays to be made with such a large cast. Even if none of his plans were to bear fruit there, he could at least find new ways to enjoy himself.
Likes↡
✔ Sundown ✔ Veal ✔ Pelts
Dislikes↡
✖ The sight of his own blood ✖ Idealists ✖ Sand
Misc. Info↡
◆ #2a0f0b for thoughts and speech ◆ Kieran's right eye was removed during augmentation experiments performed on him by Professor Izolda in the past. Originally he had the power to see in darkness, but through her machinations he can now cause others to see only darkness. ◆ All of Kieran's clothing is specifically Vantablack. ◆ Kieran is left-handed. ◆ From the wreckage of where he was held prisoner, Kieran took Emery's wedding ring. He keeps both of their rings together in his room, often wearing them on a necklace if he can conceal it. ◆ For more information on Emery, see here (scroll down). ◆ Pinterest board
Kingdom↠ Shahiti - Kingdom of Darkness Position↠ Princess Full Name↠ Violetta Agnes Price Nickname↠ Vi, or Viola Age↠ 24 Birthday↠ April 24th Height↠ 5'9" Weight↠ 164lbs Powers↡
Shadow Steps - She is able to blend into and move around in darkness in near silence without being detected. Only her steps and body movement are dulled, where if she were to speak, she would be heard right away. She can only go as far as the walls allow her, which limits her powers and the applications that they could applied to, but she likes to use this to her advantage to not be spotted.
Shadow Manipulation - She is capable of forming small objects that can fit in her hand out of the shadows. These objects are very real but are prone to dissolving in bright light as that cancels them out. They vanish at her will, and she is also able to use these objects to temporarily close up someone's wound. This is by no means a permeant solution, but more to get them to the right people so that they can get further medical treatment.
Personality↡ At first glance Vi seems very quiet and calculating, almost coming off as over-confident and cocky. In reality she is nervous, doesn't like to let others down and insecure in her own skin. She knows that it's a requirement to be strong in her family so she keeps a strong front, never letting her emotions show when they shouldn't as that runs the risk of her getting in trouble, again. She doesn't usually hold grudges unless you're a particular princess from Alore, or from that kingdom entirely. She is smart, reads the room and doesn't like to speak before she knows what's going on. Through her training she has developed an almost enjoyment of fighting, although ending people's lives is not on her list of things she enjoys.
Political Opinion↠ For the most part she doesn't care about many of the kingdoms. She regards them with hesitation and will defend her kingdom no matter what, even if it means war. She wants to make changes within her own kingdom, and where she isn't first in line despite the ages, she knows that they likely will remain just as dark as ever. However, the one kingdom she despises is the kingdom of Alore. Between her own failed kidnapping, the kidnapping and killing of her brother and his spouse, and then the false accusations that Graham harmed the princess of the kingdom she holds a deep seeded grudge against them. One that will be hard to waver.
Biography↡ Violetta is the first, and only child of Desmond and Lucille Price. Around the same time, her grandparents welcomed their second child, a surprise but welcome all the same. Even though he was technically her uncle, she grew up almost side by side with Graham, causing him to quickly become much more than that, a brother she didn't have yet. A couple years passed, and she heard about a new baby in the castle. As it turned out her father had another wife and had a baby boy with her. She was kept separated from her brother, Kieran, as her mother told her that he was below her despite being the heir to the throne. She grew up with very skewed ideas of who was important and who was not, although her father was always the one who everyone listened to no matter what was said. She was either found taking lessons that made her bored, getting up to no good with Graham or longingly watching after her brother, wishing she could go talk to him. She knew her mother, for all her good points, had someone watching her even into her teen years so she didn't ever get the chance to really talk to Kieran except for a handful of times. She was always told that she was never going to inherit the throne, as that was a job for men. She was to keep her figure; keep a level head and marry the man her father chose as part of a deal or alliance with another kingdom. She didn't like it, but growing up with that being pounded into her head got it through her enough.
Around the age of eight years old she was introduced to a boy named Stefan. She was told he was going to be her husband one day, and she embraced the idea as well as a child could. At the least he was kind and funny! Until that too was changed but her father moved on so quickly that she thought it had been called off. When in reality it had not, and the prince of Chronos had been thrown into his own situation where he had to focus on his own kingdom.
After years passed and she was freshly into her teen years, she was targeted by a group of men who hailed from Alore. In an attempt to kidnap the young princess, they dragged her back by her hair and tried to pull her away from the courtyard. What they hadn't counted on was her years of spending time with her uncle, and getting used to playing rough so she was able to get her mouth free and made enough noise to be heard, causing them to release her after cutting her skin along her collarbone where a scar remains to this day. She was bloody and scared but none of this mattered to her father who viewed the attempt she had made to fight back as weak and not worthy of someone being his heir. As "punishment" for her lack of strength to defend herself he did the cruelest thing he could have done for the young girl and chopped her hair off. She had been growing it out and it was down to her butt but by the time her father was done it had to be evened out and didn't pass her chin. She was upset, to say the least, but sucked it up and that began the time where she hardened up and hid her emotions away. If she didn't feel, he wouldn't get enjoyment out of it, right? She also began to like the short hair, although she grew it out a little more than where it was, it hasn't been anywhere near as long as before. She also reached out to a woman who worked with her father for a time, Ebony. The princess begged for lessons, to be taught how to defend herself because she wasn't going to be caught unaware ever again, and thankfully the woman agreed. She was even gifted a black dagger by the woman that she keeps on her person at all times. Her dagger is named after her mentor, although the one last childish thing that she hung onto was the full name of her weapon, one that only Ebony and Graham know.
She felt an even further divide pushed between her and her brother, especially now that she wasn't making attempts on her side anymore. She knew nothing good would come of it with the way their father was. However, when the news shook the family that he had been kidnapped, along with his spouse, she was terrified. She wasn't close to him but that didn't mean that she wanted him to be harmed. The princess never got the full story from Kieran, or her father, but through rumors around the castle and overhearing people talk she has since then pieced it together. This further solidified that Alore was not to be trusted, and not only that but her own guilt for her brother being the target because they could no longer come after her. She almost would have preferred that they come after her again and leave her little brother out it. Kieran had changed, and not for the better. An already wide divide between the siblings got a little wider and she closed her heart off, even accepting the fact that people said she was cold in response to what happened, for the sake of protecting herself.
To her surprise her father had started to use her and Graham as pawns as they both had begun to expect. After one failed engagement, she was surprised to hear that he was engaged to the princess of all places, Alore. She didn't know how to feel but it sounded like from what Graham would tell her when he returned that the princess seemed nice enough, and naive to what her kingdom actually had been doing. She still felt distrust towards her, but it lessened slightly as she watched the man, who she felt was more a brother than her actual brother, trusted her. That all shattered though when he returned with the news that it was all called off. Not only that, but there were rumors that he had laid a hand on her and that was why things were ended. Another mark in her book for Alore being ungrateful and untrustworthy.
When they got the news about sending people to the school, she was initially against it, not wanting anything to do with the idea. Peace with people like Alore? No thank you. There was no chance that they would ever have peace with her. Unfortunately, she was not in control of her own destiny, as was par for the course, and she was told that she was going. Along with both Kieran and Graham on top of it all. She doesn't want to let her father down, despite her lack of confidence on that front, and begrudgingly is planning on doing her best once she arrives.
Likes↡
☞ Quiet and Reading ☞ Sparring ☞ Animals, cats especially ☞ Her family (aka; Graham, Ebony, Kieran, Lucile - Mother) ☞ Free Time ☞ Spars with particular people (Graham) ☞ Kingdom Celebrations
Dislikes↡
☞ Unfair treatment, in war or day-to-day life ☞ Arguing with no purpose ☞ Alore or anyone from there ☞ Cheaters ☞ Cheap Tricks/Cowards ☞ Light Colored Clothing ☞ Getting too much sun (she burns easily) ☞ Reminders of her past
Misc. Info↡
☞ She does carry a knife gifted to her from her personal trainer, that has the kingdoms crest on it. It remains at her hip as long as no one in power tells her she cannot have it. (The dagger is named Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way; but she calls it Ebony for short.) ☞ She has a thin, fairly deep scar that runs along the bottom of her neck and collarbone. It comes from her attempted kidnapping when she was 14. ☞ VA Actress would be Rose McIver, as her character Liv from izombie. ☞ Words - #717D7D ☞ " Speech - #2B60DE" ☞ ' Thought - #B7CEEC'
Kingdom ↠ Shahiti Position ↠ Prince Full Name ↠ Aaric Ferdinand Cisco Price Nickname ↠ The Sea Shadow, Forgotten Son, and Ric Age ↠ 24 Birthday ↠ September 21st Height ↠ 6’2 Weight ↠ 225 lbs. Powers↡
Light Absorption - Used to absorb light or its partial wavelengths, while removing it from the source, into his body to gain the drained power and use it as power source. In doing so, he can generate and project darkness and shadows which absorb or nullify light in the area.
Light Absorption - The power to condense darkness/shadows into tangible forms with the level of solidity going from loose jelly to metal-like hardness or beyond.
Personality↡ While Aaric can come off as aloof and indifferent, in reality he simply is suffering from depression caused by a life of rejection and death. When he opens up, he is eloquent, kind, and warm. Few see this side of Aaric since the war, and less so from the ‘invitation’ to the academy on behalf of his father. He sees tragedy in the world around him and seeks to fix it, but has not yet learned how.
Political Opinion ↠ A shadowy and colored view skews his opinion of the other kingdoms. With his budding powers, he was pulled into the conflict and threw himself into self sacrifice to his brothers in arms, but as the war wore on, and his youthful view was crushed, he gained a soft heart towards them as he saw so many young men and women fall for the political whims of their “betters”. He looks kindly to the kingdoms that suffered at the hands of the Shahiti, and regrets his part in what he has done to them. On that of his own kingdom, he feels much disgust, mostly directed towards the king.
Biography↡ Born out of wedlock by the King of Shahiti, he was born to a courtesan, Amilia, during a celebration before marrying his second wife. Upon learning of it, Amilia and her son Aaric were taken care of, but he was hidden away, a mistake that the king wished to simply ignore. While still young, his mother remarried a lower nobleman who had become infatuated with her. Like the king, his new step-father, Dandus, had little interest in the boy, and for the most part ignored him. They had two sons together, and a daughter. His siblings, although civil with him, were five years or more younger than himself, which left him sent away to school before he could get to know them very well. During summer visits, when he returned, they were fair to him, but distant, having not known him well as they grew. In his own way, he does care for them, but they see him as more of a distant relation rather than a true brother.
When war came, he had already gained a strong grasp on his powers. Originally, he used it to display shadow plays, his hope of becoming a great writer one day directing him to use his powers in the effort of whimsy. Although he used his powers to boost the morale of his fellow soldiers on occasion, for the most part he used his powers to confuse and kill. The harder his heart became, the stronger the shadows seemed to become. First they formed as if they were iron, but in the end, they were stronger than the swords that slashed them, and sharper than the enemy could resist.
Somehow, he found himself directed to the navy where he received a commission as an officer. He was unaware at the time, but the King had learned of what he had become and saw his potential for destruction and sought to gain advantage during the war through him. It was here he earned the name Sea Shadow, as the vessel he was first mate of stole through the shadows, and at his direction the shadows made by the waves would pierce ships hulls and swallow them into the deep.
On land, war was a horror, on sea it was a nightmare. The shadows he directed overtaking ships might eat away the light, but it did nothing to squash the screams of the sailors as their ships were pulled down into the icy cold depths.
He was hailed as a hero of the Shahiti Navy, and as the war began to fall upon itself in the end, the king himself gave recognition for his lost son. At his mother’s direction to gain favor for the Cisco family, he accepted the recognition. It was however made perfectly by the king, his new queen, and the royal family and advisors that this b*****d son would never be king. As the war ended, the spotlight faded, and he was once again shoved to the back ranks.
With his rise in status, he has since been invited and directed to the Utopia Academy to refine his mannerisms and teach him to cooperate with other nobility. With his new brothers and sister there, he feels more alone than ever before. He comes off cold, uncaring, but inside he seeks nothing but someone to be open and honest with.
Likes ↡
Salty ocean air. Quiet moments of contemplation. Reading Writing Poetry
Dislikes↡
King Desmond Price Dead quiet of the night. Family spats. Unearned insults.
Misc. Info ↡
Arric is formally trained in the use of a variety of hand-to-hand combat, melee weapons, including the sword and spear, as well as the use of armor and shields. He has never rode a horse before until arriving at the academy. He is also self trained in writing and poetry.
Kingdom↠ Shahiti, Kingdom of Darkness Position↠ Duke Full Name↠ Graham Price Nickname↠ Graham is fine. Ducky (by Xena), Teddy (by Chiara) Age↠ Twenty-four Birthday↠ 09 May Height↠ 6'0" / 183cm Weight↠ 170 lbs / 77kg Powers↡
Desire Exhibition - Graham has the ability to cause an individual to confess their deepest secrets and desires. He can look people in the eyes and when asked, they are so entranced by his charm they freely provide it and don't realize he did it. The more intelligence one harnesses, the longer it can take. While it is an ability he is fond of, he is more selective on when, who, and why he uses it due to the excessive use of it during the war.
Shadow Mimicry - He can assume a strong two-dimensional form, extend outward to become a larger shadow, and blend and move within darkness and shadows. Being as thick as a piece of paper in this form and just as capable of cutting through skin, he can slip through cracks and go under doors if necessary. His body turns into a homogeneous matter that can touch and move people and objects. With enough blows or a weakened physical condition however, his concentration can break, causing him to revert back to his human form. Injuries to this form also appear on him in human form.
Personality↡
Graham keeps a reserved and collected demeanor most of the time, and friendlier facets can follow once he's gotten familiar with someone. He enjoys humor and light teasing when the opportunity arises. Even after years of being witness to and involved in Price family dynamics, the war, and shady duchy activities he has managed to retain some of the compassion and confidence of his youth. He doesn't readily judge others for most wrongdoings since he is no saint himself, but if given the chance will encourage them to move in a more positive direction. He is protective of those he holds dear and loyal until someone gives him a good reason to not be. Underneath everything Graham desires to have a more satisfying personal life.
Political Opinion↠ He’s no war hawk and would prefer a more peaceful world but such dreams are unrealistic and a waste of time. He prefers to defend, maintain, and promote growth for Shahiti from within instead of seeking expansion. War can sometimes be a last resort when other options for resolution have been exhausted. History of conflict and attacks on his family has left Alore and Funkazan untrustworthy in their current states. Ulium has good black trade relations with Shahiti but he regards them with caution for a similar history. Mars though hot is a lovely Kingdom and a reliable ally and Luna has so much potential.
Biography↡ King Dorian and Queen Moira had no intention of having another child after having three sons, and believed that because the Queen went through “The Change of Life” it simply was not possible. They were grandparents now too. Graham was raised adjacent to his brother Desmond’s children. There was no noticeable difference in his upbringing by his parents, but behind closed doors it was apparent he was more spoiled by the Queen. The relationship he had with his father was only existent when it was beneficial or when he needed to be disciplined. As a toddler his first power showed itself. A pitch black, two-dimensional form wreaked havoc on his nursery in the middle of a tantrum. From that point he became a bit of a menace with the nannies and used his ability to slip from their holds or through cracks in the walls and door seams to get away from them. For him, it was good fun and he was unaware of the panic it caused. While he was royalty, he was among the lowest on the totem pole in terms of succession and did not carry the burden of having to rule one day. As a result, his early years were easygoing. He knew he was a cute child and used it to his advantage when his poor choices caused more harm than good.
Unexpected tragedies led to the realization that Shahiti was involved in the war that was spreading across the world. First came his father’s death, sudden and fraught only by having witnessed it at the beginning of adolescence. Due to their detached relationship, the sting of loss was not felt as severely as the ones that struck when two of his brothers died. Ulium assassins, or so the story goes. The title of Duke was thrust upon him along with the responsibilities that it carried.There was less time to enjoy being a child, and less room for misbehaving but he still found time to do both when no one was paying too close attention.
It was in such an instance that he ‘learned’ how to make people confess secrets, things they wanted. Simply look at someone and charm it out of them with little to no questions. If he had known then what he knew now, he would have never revealed that damnable ability to his tutor. A teenage Graham found himself in the field with increasing frequency after that. When he wasn’t shadowing military commanders, he was speaking to people who were of interest to the higher chains of command. In one breath, he would ask them their desires, then in the next use those desires against them as a means to an end in the name of Shahiti. Over time, reluctance to continue this practice grew and he steeled himself to keep the scent of fear off of him while stomaching his own actions as best he could. When Graham came of age, he took possession of his duchy from the Regent that was put in charge. From that point the opion industry was rebooted, having flourished up until nearly a decade prior. By the next year trades were being made on the legal markets but did better in the underground.
Prior to the war ending, Graham was put into two arranged engagements, with both of them ending on bad terms for everyone involved. His first was arranged during childhood to a Duchess from Funkazan, and he had little interest in it until he met her in his late teens. In the end, the Fire Kingdom betrayed Shahiti by launching a surprise attack on one of their many strongholds, and he was pitted against her mid-battle. She shot him first with lethal intent but only cut his neck. He reciprocated with an arrow of his own. The engagement that followed with the Princess of Alore appeared more promising until an unfounded accusation was allegedly made by a servant who said Graham harmed her. The engagement was dissolved.
Though he believed there were no true winners in war, Graham felt that Shahiti fared better than a majority of the kingdoms involved. His duchy suffered its own causalities and shortages but remained afloat from its black market involvement. With talk of some new school being developed, he begrudgingly agreed to attend his brother’s children in a protective and supportive role in case something should happen.
Likes↡
his bestie his family drinking long walks quiet nature sounds tobacco puzzles dahlia flowers history/lore books
Dislikes↡
his brother excessive chatter his hands feeling dirty messy/cluttered surroundings bees - mild allergy when stung hangovers maths class tardiness artichokes
Misc. Info↡
Hobbies: people watching, chess, reading, swimming
Weapons: bow, crossbow, sword, dagger. the dagger is usually on his person.
Distinguishing Features: R-neck - scar from being grazed by an arrow R-hand - old scar from knife, front and back, complements of his father L-anterior thigh - vertical scar from an arrow R- anterior thigh: scar, complements of Xena R-anterior shoulder - faded scar from falling out of a tree as a kid Back - several small, flat moles Various old scars across body
His Duchy: Exports - juniper berries, black gin, medicine Black market involvement - the duchy officially trades opion for medical and religious use but a majority of the product and profits work goes through the black market. Details about the operation remain to be seen but Graham has close relations with top leadership. It's him, he controls this s**t.
Kingdom ↠ Shahiti Position ↠ Duchess Full Name ↠ Mary Rose Malachi Nickname ↠ Bloody Mary, Mare Age ↠ 21 Birthday ↠ December 5th Height ↠ 5'2" Weight ↠ 136 lbs Powers↡
Blood Omission - If Mary ingests another’s blood, she is temporarily immune to their magic, passing through physical matter, appearing invisible to mental abilities, or experiencing only their base strength as though she has all the presence and physicality of a shadow. If she has done this before or after another has ingested her blood, she is permanently immune.
Hematological Women - By shedding even a few drops of blood, Mary can create ghostly copies of herself composed entirely of blood; they are physical enough that if they’re destroyed, they pop like gory balloons, but are incorporeal enough to travel through small cracks. She does not consciously control them, and is only vaguely aware of what they do beyond her purview.
Personality↡ Quiet and reserved, sometimes awkward, Mary is nevertheless typically polite and well humored with a jumbled mix of hard earned confidence and wretched anxiety that sits vibrating beneath her skin at all times. She is especially wary of men, but her upbringing in polite society has her maintain her manners until she feels threatened into baring her fangs. When her guard is lowered, she displays a warm playfulness and sharp wit.
Political Opinion ↠ There is a kind of terrible poetry in having had her sister’s shadow erased beneath Alore’s blinding light, but Mary has little appreciation for it. Alore is a shining drought upon the land in her eyes, its existence and ties to the sun only bringing pain and the perversions of Shahitian men upon her. On that note, Shahiti is a corrupt, blighted country whose only good note was having given her her son and sister. The war made enemies of everyone, but Mary would like to see what’s beyond the borders of where she grew up now that it’s over.
Biography↡ Since the dawn of humanity, the birthing bed has been the battlefield women died upon in droves, and Mary’s mother was no exception. Something had gone terribly wrong with the pregnancy, and before Mary could be delivered her mother had bled out so quickly that the midwives had had no choice but to cut the infant out so that she may hopefully survive. Upon hearing of his wife’s passing, Mary’s father burst into the room and upon a scene so harrowing that the servants whispered about “Bloody Mary” for years afterward, though the nickname would stick long beyond even that.
Later in life, Mary would come to wonder if this event had been an ill omen, a portent of her future to come.
Her father, Mordecai Malachi, did try to remarry once after her mother’s death, but a scandal involving the woman he was courting encouraged him not to bother again, and thus Mary only knew her nursemaid and her older sister as complicated mother figures while growing up. Her nursemaid Wendy was a lovely, timid woman who nevertheless scolded Mary if she tried to call her own servant mother, while her older sister Emery was only three years older than herself, yet still helped raise her as well as a child could. They were who Mary loved the most and knew the best, for Mordecai was not what one would call a very present father. He was far too busy with the war and his leisure time with his fellow gentlemen, while also holding firm the belief that child rearing was women’s work, and he would only take a son underwing, never a daughter. The only man in the household to treat Mary and Emery more warmly than he was the butler, Alfred, who was perhaps more a father than Mordecai in a number of ways.
Hence, her childhood was a quiet one spent largely in the countryside, in the Malachi Manse’s playrooms and gardens. It consisted of hushed laughter and secret smiles exchanged behind their caretakers’ backs; of learning to dance on their nannies boots, holding formal tea parties with their toys, and being trotted out to curtsy and carry conversation with the children of their father’s friends. They were expected to make connections even at their young age, but Mary had been a shy child, taking to using the braver and friendlier Emery as a shield to hide behind, and making far fewer friends among Shahiti’s aristocratic children in turn. Mary saw nothing wrong with this, for she preferred the company of more familiar faces, unaware that those closest to her could hurt her even worse than strangers.
When she was nine, she began to have disturbing dreams. Of someone–something hunting her at a leisurely pace within mazes made out of her own home, the scrape of claws against walls heralding its agonizingly slow approach. They first happened only every once in a while, then gained increasing frequency as the days passed, and each time Mary woke with her heart trying to punch its way out of her chest, dread creeping up her throat as she got the sense that whatever hunted her in her dreams was drawing just that little bit closer every time. Wendy comforted her, assuring her that it was just dreams, and couldn't truly hurt her; Alfred offered her much the same sentiments, never failing to reach out to give her the tight hugs she yearned for; Emery, gaze gradually gaining the same shadow of dark circles as Mary, offered no such platitudes. She knew even better than Mary that they were being hunted, not just in their dreams, but outside of them, though it would take several more months of increasing terror before they learned what stalked them.
The day after Mary’s tenth birthday, Mordecai departed from their countryside home on urgent business involving the war, and the girls watched him off hand in hand with Wendy and Alfred, unaware of what awaited them that very night. Their dreams were filled with terrors more heightened than ever before, and when they woke, it was to Alfred looming over them with his shadow duplicate, his kind smile hiding intentions Mary did not understand but could now see clear as day. With Mordecai out of the way, he intended to take the girls for himself, leaving the estate with them firmly in hand. What happened instead was a night of the most harrowing game of hide and seek Mary had ever experienced, her and her sister’s screams and cries for help going unanswered as the servants remained trapped in their beds within their own nightmares. When Emery got snatched up by his shadow, she urged the frozen Mary to flee, to save herself.
Mary instead reached for her father’s favorite fire poker to stab Alfred clear through with, and the servants emerged from their rooms to find their young charges clinging to each other, clearly shaken and covered in blood, but ultimately unhurt. Mordecai would return upon receiving news of the incident, demanding a full investigation into the matter, but Mary and Emery already knew what had happened, and why. Alfred had told them himself, extolling on his infatuation with their shared green eyes and sunbright hair, rays of light in an otherwise dark, filthy country. Mary was especially of value to him, for her lack of magic indicated that the likelihood of her offspring inheriting purely the sire’s magic was heightened exponentially. In a country that valued such things as blood and magic purity, she was valuable beyond measure, but, sickeningly, it had been her and her sister’s sun-touched features that Alfred had ranted on about the most.
Shortly after, Emery insisted on dying her hair pitch black, and wearing the gloomy gothic apparel that had been losing popularity within the upper circles. Mary followed her lead, understanding all too well the fear and disgust behind the choice even as she missed her fair locks and frilly pastel dresses. It was a small price to pay for a sense of safety, and she had few peers to be derided by for her new looks. Emery lost a few friends in the process herself, but she never seemed put off by it, assuring Mary with certainty that they were the ones missing out on her friendship. The two were closer than ever for the next few years, until Emery was sent off to the capital to further her socializing. Mordecai informed her that Emery was to find herself a husband in the process, as such was the way of things, and Mary sunk into a new pit of loneliness at the prospect of her closest friend leaving the household entirely, inevitably.
In an effort to pull her charge out of her surly disposition, Wendy insisted on bringing Mary with her to church every Saturday for evening service, which was overseen by the Night Brother Azazel Graves, a charismatic, handsome young man who preached the values of the Shrouded Father. Mary scoffed over how Wendy and the other women attending swooned over him, but when he would turn away from them to offer her a word of solace, she couldn’t help feeling special. He only ever had kindness to offer her, always listening to her confessions patiently with a sweet understanding in his eyes. You’re a brave young lady, he would tell her, hand over hers, so much stronger and wiser than your years. If no one can see that and wish to be your friend, then I’ll be your friend when no other will.
It was sweet. He was sweet. She came to the church more often than once a week, sometimes with Wendy, who was grateful that the good Brother was drawing Mary out of her shell, and sometimes without, feeling grown up and mature to be helping Azazel in any little way she could. Her letters to Emery gushed with her affection for him, and her sister only ever expressed amusement with her infatuation, believing it to be a passing thing. Mary knew better, however; this was love, true love, blessed by the Shrouded One himself. Azazel may have been below her station, but as a second daughter she could escape certain expectations for herself; when she was of age, she was certain they would be wed in unholy matrimony!
Then she began to find dead animals on Malachi property, too deliberately placed to be anything other than someone displaying the bodies where she would encounter them. Some were neatly butchered, while others were torn to shreds as though a larger predator had torn into them. A horrifying, familiar sense of being hunted prickled at her neck. She sought out Azazel more than ever for comfort, and while he soothed her with his usual kindness, he also began to call her experiences into question. After all, when she would go to show him or Wendy or any of the other servants what she had found, the remains would be gone as though they had never been there. It did not matter how often she swore up and down and to the Shrouded Father what she had seen, no one believed her, and Azazel less and less. She needed to be cured of her visions or her lying tongue, he eventually told her, and such a cure could only be found in the house of the Lord, under his careful guidance. It would work best if she let him wed her now, before it was too late.
Unease crawling up her throat like bile, Mary insisted that they wait, that it was only proper, but Azazel’s fervor only intensified. Don’t you love me? he had asked her, backing her up to a window, don’t act coy with me now after leading me on all this time! If you won’t wed me, then for propriety’s sake I’ll ensure you have no choice but to–
There was a struggle, and it ended with Azazel falling out the window, impaled upon the fencing below.
Mary would learn that he had been the one behind the animal deaths. She felt sick to her core. Had she led him on? Was that why he had done those things? Was that why Alfred had…?
Mordecai brushed the entire incident under the rug; as far as anyone was now concerned, there had never been an Azazel in the church, and his position, having been vacant for years, was finally given to someone new. Her father’s only concern for Mary was if she had given up her virginity, and it was no hardship to have a doctor check for him. Afterwards, she shut herself in her rooms, and only opened the door for when Wendy brought up food for her. Nowhere was safe. Not her home, not outside, not with light hair, not with dark hair. Why bother leaving her quarters ever again?
Her sister was why. Emery returned to the capital when news reached her of her sister’s condition, and she swept back into Mary’s life as though she had never left it, though Mary at first tried to resist her. It was made easier when Emery had brought a new friend with her, Prince Kieran, whose presence frightened Mary right back up the stairs she had gone down to greet her sister. It was a concerted effort between the two to coax her out into the open like a skittish cat with treats, but Kieran proved himself to have a more genuine kindness than Azazel, a more selfish one. He only had eyes for her sister, and Emery was even more herself with him than Mary had seen her with anyone. Mary knew what she saw between them was special, and she was filled with a mix of gratitude and jealousy. Grateful that her sister had found someone good for her, and jealous that he would eventually, inevitably, have her in his household for the rest of their lives.
Still, such was the way of things, and neither were eager to turn her company away even when she interrupted what were clearly romantic outings. She gradually warmed up to Kieran, charmed by his clear regard for her sister, and by extension his interest in getting to know the people Emery cared most for. When Emery proposed that Mary accompany her back to the capital, she saw no reason to do otherwise, and packed her things while giving the servants that remained behind a fond but distant farewell.
The capital proved itself the concentration of darkness itself, and Mary felt ten years younger again, hiding behind her sister while they socialized with the local aristocracy. Emery had acquired a tight knit circle of like minded friends, who welcomed Mary well enough, but were still first and foremost Emery’s friends. Certainly, they didn’t mean to ever exclude her, but often she felt lonelier being around them than when she was by herself. She tried to seek out her own friends, but felt there must have been something inherently despicable about her when her attempts rarely worked out. Not wishing to burden Emery and Kieran with her sorrows when they already had so much on their plate, Mary took to exploring the city on her own with only a singular servant and guard at her side.
Her greatest escapes involved reading, writing, and, eventually, visiting one of the local theaters. It was lovely to sit on the balconies, and lose herself in a good performance for a few hours. Her frequent patronage and donations drew the good will of the company behind the theater, who invited her over to speak to directors, script writers, and actors alike in the hopes of gaining further favor with the Malachi family. Mary didn’t mind so much, she enjoyed getting a peek behind the curtain, and it was through such that she met one aspiring actor hidden behind the scenes: Daniel Loomis, a tragic casualty of the war who hid the scars on his face behind veils and masks. She was drawn to his melancholy and the playfulness she could unearth from him with a bit of conversation, and as it turned out, they had much in common: their love for the theater, their tendency to hide away from the public eye for fear of what would look back, their resulting loneliness…
Mary could never become a thespian herself in truth, but she enjoyed playing one with Daniel, reading lines to him with growing confidence, and learning how to sing under his tutelage. She encouraged him to take off his mask around her to eventual success, and he encouraged her to stop dying her hair so that they could be their true selves with each other, if nowhere else. She was so glad to have finally made a friend of her own…until he confessed his love for her. Taken aback, she let him down as gently as she could, aware that her father would never allow it even if she had had the inclination to return his feelings. Her rejection, however, appeared to drive Daniel over the edge. When his begging and attempts to separate her from her servant and guard only drove her away from the theater altogether, he began to send her unhinged letters and sketches of her sleeping face. Out of the corner of her eye, in the privacy of her home, she would see his favorite ghoulish mask staring at her from within the shadows.
Reluctant to send the authorities after her former friend when she had already caused him such hurt, she suffered for days beneath the growing weight of fear and paranoia, some part of her feeling as though she deserved it. This was what she did, after all, wasn’t it? Lead men on and drive them to madness? Regardless of how she looked, how she dressed herself, how she acted…there was something in her that warped the men around her. Mortified and ashamed, she withdrew into herself and avoided her sister for weeks even as she desperately wished to seek comfort in her. But Daniel’s efforts to terrorize her only escalated, culminating in a night of slaughtering her guards and servants from the shadows before pursuing her with a knife in hand. More and more wounds accrued on her skin as he toyed with her, even going so far as to lure her back to the theater, and finally, scared out of her mind, she thrust herself upon his knife in order to claw and bite at him, to injure him before he returned to the shadows, but he never did. Howling wraiths emerged from her blood to converge on him in a gruesome mess, and Mary set the building aflame as she fled.
She woke the next morning in the private ward of a local hospital, Emery at her side, and all she could do was cry into her sister’s arms, confessing everything that had occurred. Emery, for her part, took it all in stride, only expressing her sorrow that Mary had not felt she could share any of it sooner, and Mary swore to never hide such things from her again. It had been far too lonesome, and now not only had she ruined a dear friendship, but she had destroyed her favorite theater in the process. Expression fierce, Emery placed the gentlest of kisses upon her brow, and assured her that she had ruined nothing; it had been that awful Daniel langer that had been the cause of all this trouble, and she would ensure Mary wouldn’t have to worry a moment longer over the theater.
Emery was nothing less than a woman of her word, and looked after Mary when she wasn’t preoccupied with Kieran, and sometimes even when she was. Kieran himself remained much the same as he had always been, content to share his beloved with her sister, and treating Mary much like family, or as close to it as any of them understood it to be. Conscious as she was of how much she was intruding on Emery’s life, she was just as conscious that one day soon she would have far less time to do so, and so Mary clung to her side, clawing for every shred of joy that had been stolen away from her over the years. They grew closer to each other than ever before, with Emery using her for a sounding board and debate partner over every subject under the moon, but particularly politics and philosophy. Mary thought her ideas lovely…in theory, but though she had her doubts about their practical applications, it was difficult to argue against such passion. Instead, she tried to urge her sister to learn some form of self defense, anything considered acceptable for women in polite society, but Emery was less concerned about such things when she had far more important topics on her mind.
When Emery and Kieran’s proposal was finalized, Mary helped her sister plan out the wedding, determined to be there for her every step of the way until…until there were no more steps to be taken. Putting on a brave face and a bright smile, she nevertheless cried the hardest at the ceremony, so full of joy and sorrow that she overflowed. It was there that she met Balhanan Smith, a marquess that offered her a handkerchief to dry her face with. Grateful and embarrassed, she promised to return it to him after having it cleaned, and from there they began a correspondence that chipped away at the walls she had erected around her heart, weakened as they were by her sister’s departure from the Malachi household. He was kind and cultured, but she had thought as much of men before, so she remained wary, and ensured her sister was kept up to date on how the relationship was progressing once Balhanan began to formally court her. Emery, meanwhile, kept her apprised of her efforts to see Shahiti’s part in the war ended, her final missive keeping vague on the details of her latest outing in case of sabotage, but full of excitement for the work she was doing.
Mary was left shattered by the news of Emery’s death. Her sister, her dearest friend, her only worthwhile blood, the darkest, most beautiful shadow within the country, gone? It was an impossibility, yet the world continued to spin, and Mary nevertheless found herself attending the funeral. Her attempts to reach out to her brother-in-law, the only one who could begin to understand the depths of her grief, were rebuffed or ignored, and she was left truly and utterly alone in the world…until Balhanan proposed to her, offering her the opportunity of a new family to call her own. Having come to love him in the way a wounded deer loves its rescuer, she promptly accepted, and was wed in half the time it had taken Emery before being whisked off to the Smith fiefdom.
It was nestled in the heart of the countryside, and it needled at Mary even as it soothed her. She had missed the woods, the quiet, even as she dreaded them, too. She wrote letters to her sister and brother-in-law every week for months, only sending the latter to Kieran, though she never heard back from him. Though she hoped he would come around with time, she grew disheartened after months of no replies, and finally gave up in light of her first miscarriage. The only one to comfort her through that hard time was Balhanan, and expressing concern over what her futile attempts were doing to her disposition when she needed to focus on healing, he talked her down from further attempts at communication. Grateful to have at least one person in her corner, she agreed, and doubled down in her efforts to be a good wife and partner. She socialized with the wives of his peerage, hosted any guests they acquired, helped manage the finances, and politely averted her eyes when his efforts in the war, his work in the dungeons, had him returning to her with blood up to his elbows and red smeared over his mouth. Pain was an artform like any other, he would sometimes explain to her; apply just the right pressure, and every pig will squeal.
There were a great deal of things she found herself averting her eyes over, a faint tension thrumming in her chest that she did her best to avoid thinking too hard about even as it grew and grew. The strange men he hosted and associated with, the surplus of meat he provided when the war made such provisions scarcer even for nobility, the odd wounds he acquired, and the rooms she was forbidden from entering…she loved him, and so she would respect his boundaries, and trust that everything he did was for the sake of the family they were trying to make together.
Then her second pregnancy sailed into the second trimester, and things grew even more unnerving for her. His guests were overstaying their welcome, taking a queer interest in her pregnancy, and insisting that she drink health elixirs they swore by, but only made her feel ill. Balhanan defended them against her questioning, and Mary gained the odd sense that she was thirteen again, pinned against the window. She could no longer ignore the potential danger, and when her husband and his friends were pulled out of the estate by the war, she took the opportunity to snoop around where she had been expressly forbidden from. It was there that she discovered her husband’s true intentions:
The man was part of a cult that intended to summon the son of the Shrouded One through her own child.
Angry and terrified, she attempted to flee for her father’s territory, but was stopped by the household servants, who ensured she was locked safe within her personal quarters. She stewed in her thoughts and feelings for days before her husband returned, and, upon learning that she knew everything, only offered up an apology for the restrictions, promising her that they would try for more children they could keep once under the uniting shadow of the prophesied child. Viciously rejecting such paltry appeasements, Mary tried everything she could to get the word out, to get help, but every attempt fell flat. She was alone. She was alone, and she was the only one who could save herself and her child.
Her chance came when she fell into labor, and used the blood dripping down her thighs to create an abundance of wrathful wraiths that fell upon the doctor, nurses, and servants that attempted to stop her exit from the room. In some of the worst pain of her life, she nevertheless made her way downstairs to confront her husband, who did his level best to gently talk her into going back upstairs before deciding to physically move her. Not having even a little bit of it, Mary fought back against him, sinking her teeth into the flesh of the hand trying to cover her mouth, and when he attempted to summon his demonic minions, they simply moved harmlessly through her. Understanding in that moment why, years ago, Daniel had been incapable of retreating to his shadows even while she clung to him, she set her wraiths upon Balhanan to distract him while she set the estate ablaze. Every bit of blood she shed became more weapons to hold down every last b*****d that had intended to hurt her baby, and she staggered her way out of the building to watch it burn while she finally gave birth to her son.
The fire having drawn the attention of the authorities from the nearest towns, Mary had to keep her wits about her as she lied and lied and lied about what had happened. Who would believe her that the well respected Marquess was a cultist attempting to sacrifice his own child? Instead, she described a loving husband betrayed by his own men, who sacrificed himself to protect her. The locals positively ate up the story, and she was soon returned to her father’s estate, a widow who was deeply surprised to learn that the war had ended, and had been over for nearly an entire year. No one had ever…then the prisoners he had been interrogating…who had they been? Deciding there were some mysteries that didn’t need solving anytime soon while she healed, she put her questions aside, but soon found herself with more, because the servants caring for her and Joby were beginning to fall into what appeared to be insanity.
Beginning with the nursemaid, they acted strangely, seeing things that weren’t there, and regarding the world around them with increasing terror and anxiety until they dropped like flies, taken by heart attacks. Attempts to hire more only resulted in the same, and Mary wound up having to care for Joby herself as she attempted to discern if this was the result of sabotage or something else. However, it quickly grew apparent that the source of these troubles was her very own son, who was emanating a strange magic far too young that somehow, someway, didn’t affect her. Magic inhibitors and disruptors only lasted a short while before his power ran roughshod over them, and Mary started up a correspondence with her old nursemaid Wendy for advice on matters of child rearing she never thought she would have to deal with.
In the meanwhile, her search for a solution led her to the infamous Izolda Egorova, a scientist specializing in the research of magic who could currently only be found under the employment of the newly established Utopia Academy. The politics involved meant Mary’s acceptance into the school would likely result in having to get remarried to a foreigner in the name of peace…but it was a small price to pay to ensure she and her son attained some semblance of a normal life.
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To this day, the general public believes Mary has no magic. At first this was done so that she still had as many marriage prospects as possible that desired a blank slate for their bloodline; now Mary appreciates having a couple of cards up her sleeve to surprise those who may want to cause her or hers harm.
Considering Shahiti's view of what women's roles in society should be, Mary has not had the opportunity to learn to fight, nor the confidence to use any “proper” weapons. Instead, she always ensures she has a sharp hair or hat pin on hand.
She has a number of fading scars on her arms, front, and back from her final encounter with Daniel, with the most notable one being on her right side where she had let his blade sink in.
Instead of keeping a journal, Mary writes letters to her sister, and keeps them tucked away in a storage chest that doubles as a love seat. Most of her letters were unfortunately lost in the Smith Estate fire, but she certainly isn't lacking in things to tell her sister these days.
She has a strong country (Scottish) accent that she's never been interested in attempting to consciously downplay, while her sister has; she understands why, but it's a bit of a sore spot for her.
Mary's son was named Jobidiah Emeril Malachi Smith, and was thus named for her maternal grandfather and her sister, and then to ensure he had equal rights to the Malachi and Smith fiefdoms. His nickname is Joby.
Joby was born on August 3rd.
Joby's Abilities:
Sanity’s Veil - Within a certain radius of this child, people begin experiencing voices speaking languages beyond comprehension, alien sounds not of this world, and see creatures the likes of which have never been seen before. The darker it is, the more quickly these visions emerge, and can cause such anxiety and fear that it induces violent heart attacks.
Bloodied Exception - If Joby ingests another’s blood, that person becomes immune to his first ability. No one is aware of this thus far.[/st]
Kingdom↠ Shahiti - Darkness Position↠ Duke Full Name↠ Charon Erebus Nickname↠ Char (Only his mother has ever called him that. Say it you die) Age↠ 23 Birthday↠ Birthday Height↠ 6'4" Weight↠ 260 lb Powers↡
Darkvision - sees perfectly in the dark
Tattoo Manipulation - has shadows that transform into tattoos that ink his skin that he can manipulate on or outside of his body to use as weapons or defense
Personality↡ He seems calm and chill on the outside, but truly, there is a war of darkness in his mind. He has an insatiable bloodlust that has been caged since the war ended. He enjoys games, both of the physical and the mental variety, and loves to watch the light go out in his enemy's eyes when they realize there is no escape.
Political Opinion↠ He doesn't care about politics. He doesn't even think that he was born in the best Kingdom. All he cares about is doing the job that the royal family has asked him to do and being as discreet as possible. He does enjoy the blood of Alore more than most. It shines in the light.
Biography↡ The Erebus family rose to political power by murdering everyone who stood in their way generations ago. They worked in the shadows to make sure they were in the right rooms at the right time, gaining more power from the royals who stood in their way. While they only had to many rungs to climb, not wanting to put their true natures on the throne, they knew their insatiable blood lust was meant for the underworld rather than the light of politics.
So, even after the Erebus family gained the power Dukedom, they knew that was as far as they would ever willingly climb. The Erebus family believed in using the information they gathered to take on the people who would dare threaten the crown, keeping just enough loyalty to not raise eyebrows at their alternative lifestyle.
The Erebus family was kept in a life of luxury during the war, using the funding from the interrogation of war enemies to grow their reach. His father had a quest for power through knowledge and wanted to ensure that nobody would dare come after the position his family had worked hard to gain. However, this meant bringing our only child into the fold, allowing his son to start interrogations of his own by age 15.
Charon was rough, always breaking his enemy and never truly feeling the satisfaction of someone keeping their secrets for long enough. Like the rest of his family, he has had no desire to be in the political spotlight, but would rather keep to the shadows and do anything the royal family needed. Assassinations, information gathering, and everything else were on the table for him during the war.
Then it all stopped. The war was over, and he lost his purpose. He had nothing until the next order came: find information on the other nations at Utopia. The peace wouldn't last, or at least nobody believed it would, so it was his job to figure out who would strike first. With a new purpose, Charon left his family again, hoping this might be fun.
Likes↡
Darkness Hunting
Dislikes↡
Soup
Misc. Info↡
Using brass knuckles during fights and in interrogations, but also keeps the sword his grandfather gifted him, as well as knives for when the knuckles don't do the job. Talking color is #6b6385
Theme Songs↠ Animal - Magnolia Park [X] Username↠ Mythical_Books
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