|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Dec 02, 2013 12:08 am
TABLE OF CONTENTS
o2. armin mendel (the summoner)
o3. izanor (the hound)
o4. the summoning
o5. logs
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 02, 2013 12:30 am
 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 
GENERAL
xxxxxxName: Armin Mendel
xxxxxxGender: male
xxxxxxAge: 32
xxxxxxClass: upper-middle
xxxxxxOccupation: breeder and handler of horses, dressage discipline - hitman under the table
xxxxxxCurrent Residence: arkenvale
xxxxxxMagic: fire
APPEARANCE
xxxxxxHair: pale blond, straight, slicked back or styled
xxxxxxEyes: blue
xxxxxxHeight: 5'10"
xxxxxxBuild: lithe, athletic
xxxxxx↦ he has three scars on his right side, starting from above his hip bone to the center of his back
xxxxxx↦ his blood type (AB-) is tattooed to the bottom of his left foot
PERSONALITY
xxxxxxALTRUISTIC
A quiet, unassuming man, Armin easy to approach and easy to speak to. He has a kindly demeanor, always willing to listen to problems and lend a hand when required. He's generous with time and wealth, even if it means giving up things he himself desperately wishes to do. He has a big heart for his fellow man, particularly those less fortunate than himself. He claims be bourgeois, but he's not. Armin is too used to comfort and decadence to know how to live without it, but he's willing to bring those who don't a little closer to his lifestyle. Armin will eagerly go out of his way to help those in need, and often feels guilty for not doing more for people.
xxxxxxCULTURED
Born into wealth and schooled in manners and etiquette since he was a young boy, Armin is cultured and well spoken. Just the sort of man who can tell the year of a glass of whine from a sniff or a sip. He's not very indulgent, though, and is content with simpler, inexpensive tastes. Except, of course, when it comes to his horses. In which case, only the absolute best will do, and he'll spare no expense to purchase from the most popular stock. Armin spends much of his free time in quiet peace with a well written book and a glass of red wine.
xxxxxxVENGEFUL
Despite his demure demeanor, Armin is not a peaceful man. He has no qualms against using violence for the good of the people. He's done quite a few things that can't be talked about in the light of day, up to and include the slow, violent murder of less-than-savory individuals. He doesn't tolerate being taken advantage of (something which is, alas, easy to do), nor will he idly forgive those who harm his loved ones. While the term 'mother bear' most often refers to women, it suits Armin to a T.
xxxxxxANXIOUS
Armin doesn't do well in particularly large crowds. He becomes nervous and anxious - a feeling he can't control, but desperately wishes he could. He becomes exceedingly uncomfortable the longer he's forced to remain in a crowd, and his anxiety will grow to full blown paranoia if he can't escape somewhere quieter. He can suffer through these instances more easily with an anchor - a calm, confident friend who he can stick to until the event is over.
side art by Shestval
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 02, 2013 12:40 am
 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 
GENERAL
xxxxxxName: Izanor
xxxxxxGender: female
xxxxxxAge: adult
xxxxxxSummoner: armin mendel
xxxxxxMagic: air
PERSONALITY
xxxxxxSURFACE
confident - sassy - protective - chivalrous - flustered by flirtation
xxxxxxDETAIL
Izanor is a knight in shining armor. She's always on the look out for evil doers, ready to right wrongs, and protect the innocent. She's quite smarmy about it too, always tossing out one-liners and trying to laugh in the face of her enemies. She has quite a bit of confidence in herself and her abilities, but can sometimes let her ego get in the way; she may bite off more than she can chew. Izanor is also easily flustered by gratitude for her do-gooding, and especially the flirtatious overtures of any fellow hounds. She not sure what to do with herself when romance is on the table! Fighting demons is much easier.
TECHNICAL
xxxxxxImages: cert, uncert
xxxxxxColorist: Eauo
xxxxxxObtained: Fall Event, Paid Raffle
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 10:38 pm
 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The fresh, wet smell of dirt invaded Armin’s senses, along with the creeping dread that it was not the particular scent he was meant to be smelling just at that moment. It was night, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he only just been perched outside the courthouse, fighting off the biting chill of winter. The leather of his gloves crackling under the stress of cold. He’d breathed hot air over them, and watched it turn to lacy frost up and down the length of his rifle. Any moment his target was meant to exit, and Armin would take his shot and disappear into the demeanour of a quiet, innocent gentleman, leaving the frigid night air behind.
But Armin couldn’t remember taking the shot, and he was all together much too warm to be out in the snow.
Slowly, dauntingly, he cracked his eyes open and found himself kneeling on front of a simmering cauldron, the last billows of smoke fading into the dimness. A dull, orange light flickered to the side, and at first Armin took it for a fire. But as he dragged himself to his feet the light blossomed outward and brightened to hot white.
His skin prickled.
He spotted the familiar silver glint of his rifle on the ground, and nimbly danced forward to grab it. The cool weight was reassuring, but entirely useless against an invisible foe. He shouldered the strap and slowly, carefully, tread backward from the light.
/ Don’t be afraid! /
The voice flowed into Armin’s mind like a rich broth, warm and hearty. He froze, chin jerked upward, eyes narrowed to slits of glass. He shifted his shoulder and let his rifle strap loosen down his arm, sliding his opposite hand to the weight of the muzzle,” Where are you?”
/ In the void, but I’d like to be out. You’d like me out, too./
“ Is that so?” he wet his lips and finally adjusted his rifle against his shoulder, finger on the trigger. No proper poise to shoot, but he’d be ready, if he needed to,” Why is that?”
/ You summoned me. You were chosen for me. I’m your hound, or I’d like to be. /
Hell hound. Armin knew some of the lore. Ancient stories from the end of the old world. But no one had seen a real, proper hell hound in decades. Why him? Why now? Armin’s brow furrowed and he made no move to drop his rifle. Instead he took a few dainty steps toward the light. The heat increased as he approached, and the hairs along his arms rose. If anything was otherworldly, it was this. This… portal.
/ I’ll protect you, Armin, forever and always. /
“How do I know you are what you say?” he stopped again, sweat forming on his brow from the heat of the portal. He wiped it away with the edge of his sleeve.
/ You’ll just have to trust me. It’ll be your sacrifice to me. /
Armin stood in silence, listening to his heart thrum in his chest. Every nerve was on fire. Every instinct urging him to flee. But he stood, and breathed, and finally…
“Yes. Alright.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
