#au info post

[cyrusthemagician]

Gloinks in the Waterpark au are pool toys btw

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Before the Dawn AU - Squall Leonhart (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

SUMMARY: (short version if AU info, due to the fact that the full length info originally written up is very long)--Squall, a WereLion of unique lineage, was raised to serve as Knight to sorceresses, but would not endure such a horrible existence of abusive training and eternal servitude to the wills and whims of a cruel sorceress forever. He finds freedom, but endures the constant threat of capture from then on, from more than one Sorceress, some wanting to make him an even greater breed of Knight than he was before. He’s endured a great deal of pain, and shed plenty of blood, on his road to freedom and understanding himself, but with aid from a few, he will eventually forge for himself a word where the cruel pay for the sins, and the innocent and tormented can strive for peace. FULL LENGTH HISTORY FOUND IN THIS LINK, IN THE VERSES SECTION OF HIS PROFILE.

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Name: Squall / Leonhart (amongst allies he helped free) / Renzokuken (of Adel) / Grief’s Heir.

Species: Were-Lion of refined and bred lineage.

Role/Profession/Job: Bred specimen, then knight, now traitor/rebel of knights.

Age: 267, physically a young adult.

Nature: Silent, withdrawn, standoffish, and closed off. He’s not extremely easy to anger, but he is easy to unease. Always moving, always avoiding notice, as well as avoiding lingering and mingling for too long, he is a wanderer with a tremendous weight upon his back. Prone to aggressive outbursts when on his own, especially in the wilds, too long. can have feral periods, can also have silent periods hidden away. Longs for a pride, yet reluctant to forge one. he is a reluctantly warrior looking for a place and time where the fighting can finally cease for him.

Personality: He is closed off and untrusting. He is, by instinct and by training, a protector, but he does not look for praise or fame. He finds he is constantly wandering and running, looking for his true, personally forged fate. Not the one others have forced upon him. He was always expected to lead, and so at times he stubbornly denies the expectation, despite being a reasonable, well rounded leader when he’s forced to try. He has a very caring heart for those who earn it, but there are a great many walls to climb to reach such.

History: A long one of pain, loneliness, manipulation, and violence. He was bred, specifically, to achieve a mix of power and bloodline that would make him a powerful weapon and/or a valuable selling point once he came of proper age, power, and training. And so obedience training, battle training, power training, lessons, and manners training were what his life was filled with for his formative years. He did not really believe that the life he was born into, and was living, was perfectly right—at least, it didn’t feel like it fit. However, he was conditioned enough to believe this was all he was allowed to have. But after the day he was presented to the masses, for random weatlhy nobles as well as royalty, where he shifted to show his were form, he had earned the interest of a rather powerful party, a fact he did not learn until weeks later. But the Sorceress Adel wanted him as he own, and so she would have him. And serving under her was the greatest hell he’d known—fighting, proving himself, against her and her greatest warriors, further training to meet her standards which involved harsh obedience training, and much more. He was to serve her, obey, her, fight her battles, perform battle in her championships—his life was war and blood. Until finally, he’d had enough. and led a rebellion—it, too, seemed to only be war and blood, but from it he tapped into a great power within himself tied to his lineage. He had awakened a berserk form, and many abilities he had yet to fully understand, and he found what freedom he could; but it was freedom on the run, and it was a lonely, cold existence, where he could trust nothing, lest he ensure his death. He met allies and more foes, constantly outrunning Adel’s forces, until he was captured again, tortured within an inch of his life only to be mended again. That is when he eventually caught the desire of another, Ultemicia, who slayed Adel who intended to kill him. He barely made it free of her grasp, but knew, this women was a greater foe and a greater cruel hand that he must keep escaping, or find a way to defeat. And that is his lifes mission, one he hopes to one day achieve, to find something greater on the other side.

POWERS/ABILITIES:

Heightened senses and greater strength (vision, hearing, smell, taste, as well as speed and strength and endurance), and animalistic instincts due to his Were genes.

Form shifting; humanoid form with vibrant eyes and elongated fangs, scraggly hair, and occasionally sharpened nails. Were form being that of a purplish black furred, white maned, blue eyed lion with five rubies encrusted across his forehead where his mane begins, and reddish coloring at the tips of his claws, both on all fours and standing erect. Berzerk form happens to be like his Were form, generally, but erect and a few sizes larger, with blood red claws and ruby like horns extending from his head, a prehensile tail with a sharpened point, and white and black webbed yet feathered wings (can be used to fly, only on Berzerk form, which can tend to be sporadic and not greatly reliable).

Empowered by acquired or gifted magic, as well as the consumption of an age old, blessed ale. Can increase most of his abilities.

Searing bite, as well as slashing attacks—can burn or poison enemies, depending on his intent and their endurance.

Berzerk Mode—Rough Divide slash, where he uses claw or tail to slash his enemies and can tend to use an explosive fire attack with impact. Fated Circle—he can take to the air, summoning energy that it released from wings and tail, causes slashes from the tail and shockwave inducing gusts from his wings. Blasting Zone—a focus of energy sourced from the ruby horns extending from his head, collecting in five thin pillars of energy, before sent in a swirling, aimed blasted with a. roar at his enemies. Finally, Lion Heart—a speedy, rapid attack of slashes, bites, and close range energy blasts from his claws, tail, and teeth.

Grievers Gift Ability—a powerful roar, that not only empowers beasts, inspiring them, and can be dangerous when heard close range, being known to leave some enemies deaf, it is used not only to display a dominant bloodline or to gain allies, but to attack. With the greatest emotion and passion and will, it can be used to summon energy and power by the very energy and power of the users own cry/scream, causing an extremely powerful energy blast. Can only really be tapped into by well trained Were Lions of the right blood line, or through desperate times and circumstances, or even severe risks to of strength and stamina to tap into it by the user.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Before the Dawn AU | Kadaj (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

Kadaj is the only Darq Nymph of the Moon-Touched waters of the Forgotten City, and it’s Great Forests, born forth from the miracle return of the Crystal Dryad Sephiroth, after the powerful defeat at the hands of a blond warrior--it is unknown to him why he came into being, nor is anyone aware of his existence apart from the one who willed him into being, but he seems to be a reflection of the world-shaking power resulting from the clash of Sephiroth and Cloud, and unbeknownst to him, the will of the cruel mother he has yet to understand from within the crystal, as Sephiroth has yet to know him to teach him about Jenova. He feels that all he has is the forest, and the energy of a mother he finds there, but there is something unnerving he feels from her, despite her desperate attempts to manipulate his obedience and loyalty. He intends to seek her out...eventually, and he feels her call, constantly, but first he must seek out what the world holds, specifically the two he is drawn to with little known of them other than looks and nature. He longs to understand why he came to be, and what he’s meant for, and his fate depends solely upon who reaches his heart first and turns it to their desire, as while he seeks out his own independent curiosities, he is finding himself influenced and coaxed by the Mother desperate for another tool to use, and make perhaps into another eventual vessel.

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Name: Kadaj, Remnant of the Crystal.

Species: Darq Water Nymph (of miraculous creation).

Role/Profession/Job: No real role, he was a sudden creation, forged by accident, and influenced by a corrupt Ancient. That presence in his life intends to use him as a pawn and vessel, but his future is unknown.

Age: Physically 18, age undefinable as he came into being in an unnatural fashion.

Nature: Secluded, skittish, curious. Secluded to protect himself, skittish because he knows little of the world, and curious for the same reason. Withdrawn and mystic nature at times, wandering the waters, tempting company in with him to play with.

Personality: Curious, secluded, erratic, energetic. He is very much like a child in energy and curiosity, yet a teenager in emotional stability. He is lost, and yearning to find answers, to find connection. The moment he thinks he’s found someone to trust, he latches on intensely. Can be a bit erratic and emotionally angry, when hurt, or otherwise influenced by the negative hold on his existence.

History: There’s not much history to his life, as he came into being without a friend or presence in the world. All he had were visions of faces that left him yearning to travel beyond his birth city to seek these people out, and the feeling of a presence always behind him, always there. At times it felt like a comfort, and others, it felt full of dread. But as he steps out into the world to make sense of who he is and what he feels and yearns to seek, that presence begins gripping harder, leaving him to potentially give way to a new darkness upon the world.

Powers/Abilities:

Hydrokinesis, using it in various ways, and in its various states and temperatures, as well as it’s healing abilities.

Breathing underwater and above water.

Minor aquatic transformation, eyes shift to a glossy color rather than just the shining slit pupils, and his skin becomes even more iridescent and shining under water.

Some level of untrained hypnosis as a Nymph, given it’s a defense mechanism similar to a sirens ability, and can be used through vocals or simple through locking eyes.

Darq water conversion and manipulation.

In his states of control through the Mother crystal, he might have influence over some level of weather, like storms, through Darq energy of the planet.

Along with this, he wields Darq touch to other parts to nature, corrupting it with his dark water, whether it be land, plants, crystals, people, etc.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Before the Dawn AU - Sephiroth (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

Sephiroth is the only one of his kind--many a Dryad there have been, and some birthed forth from his home land, but none like him. He himself is bound to the Mother Crystal found within the Great Woods in the Forgotten City. For many years, he believed himself a pure being, created to protect his Mother and all that was pure and good that she created or reigned over in the City and at its edges. He knew she hated the weak, the powerless, just as much as she hated those greedy with power and arrogant with toxic ego. And so he hated them as well. For why would he not, if mother did? He protected the City, and roamed within it. But when the day came that a dark Vampire came strolling through, intent on clawing out one of the mothers resting within the crystal (as the form of two women seemed to rest within the great large crystals core), something in him changed. By nature and nurture, he was intent on fighting this Vampire off, but he spewed nonsense about being his true creator, and that his Mothers were useless and greedy wenches. Argument and battle ensued, and what few friends Sephiroth may have gained from the very small population of beings and descendants of Ancients (the original elvenesque people of the Forgotten City and keepers of the crystals and the pure energy of the woods), they tried to aid him, to reason with him. But this Vampire, Hojo, seemed to tear assunder the very fabric of the life the Dryad had lived--He tore too deep into the crystal, and into Sephiroth’s own belief of his existence, and both made Sephiroth susceptible to control….from the very one he trusted most, his great mother Jenova, who’s power had finally been freed enough by the damage to the crystal to reach him. From then on out, she used him like her very tool of will. A great many inhabitants of the City died at his hand, as holy fire wrought throughout it, only a few fae and ancient descendants escaping, seemingly by Sephiroths failure to seize them… Jenova would seek to continue using him as her own puppet, building his power, his strength, twisting him into a possible vessel if she could ever have him free her from the crystal without absolutely destroying it. But Jenova wasn’t the only one in the crystal--no, when Sephiroth was to be made, by Hojo and his mate, Lucrecia, using a shart of Jenova’s crystal, conflict grew between them all, jenova influencing them without their know, breeding Hojo’s greed further, and Lucrecia’s love for those innocents who did not deserve his cruel actions (both the vampire pawn Hojo intended to create, and the back up they saw their claimed son would be). During a confrontation, Lucrecia was stabbed by the shard, which Hojo still used, thinking the ordeal only gave it more power, unknowing of the fact that it had corrupted his mate. Throughout their time developing Sephiroth, she found herself twisted between a cruel darkness akin to Hojo’s, and her true heart shining through. She was almost consumed by that darkness, but escaped with what seemed to be a crystalized egg, holding a small toddler within, and she begged Jenova to make it right, to forgive her her sins in what she’d done to the crystal, and help her give Sephiroth a chance to live. Jenova took advantage of this plea, took Lucrecia into her crystal under the pretense it would prevent her corruption, which it did, but it also locked her away, and she took advantage of having her. Sephiroth was made a monster, by a corrupted Ancient locked away in the Great Crystal, meant to lock and purify her, but it could only bind her for so long. He was a nightmare upon the world, making victims of many beings, from werewolves, to vampires, to demons, to fae, to humans. It mattered not, so long as Jenova saw weakness that needed to be snuffed out. It seemed as if he would either end the world, or have to end himself. It was by the will of warriors that he was finally stopped, and the faint influence of the mother who sacrificed herself for his best chest, Lucrecia, that he found his end….and began again. He returned to the Forgotten City, forging from it’s waters anew, stronger, and wiser, and wearing his crimes and cruelty and truth like a weight upon his shoulders. He now wanders the world looking to purify crystals by a ritual taught to him by a tender ancient decadent girl from before his wreckage upon the City--he wanted to ensure Jenova’s reach would not continue, that she would be removed, never to harm anyone again (unbeknownst to him, his rebirth after defeat at the hands of a specific warrior would produce Jenova’s last attempt at presence, a Water Nymph in their combined visage). He is seen as a monster by most, and does not deny it, but he carries on, to make the world better from the damage he did to it. His natural form involves pale skin, very little clothing if any, minor horns sprouting backward from his bangs, discoloration of the skin around his, elongated nails, markings upon his skin that look like tattoos made to look like cracks in his skin, a few embedded crystals in certain patterns here and there over his upper body. He also has a feral form which involves glowing eyes, discoloured, iridescent skin, crystal embedded horns as opposed to his normal horns that look similar to dull and half dead branches of the trees of the Great Forest of the Forgotten City, a wing of Crystal and light, and slightly increased size. (timeline of his story is dependent entirely on what we as rp partners decide).

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Name: Sephiroth, the Crystal Dryad, the Silver Fae, the Fae Curse.

Species: Crystal Dryad, only one of a species never seen before him. (Much like a Dryad of the forests and its soul tree, but he is bound to a Great Crystal of the old Ancients culture).

Role/Profession/Job: Originally protector of the Forgotten City of the Ancients, and indirect Knight of the Mother Crystal. Then, the will and hand of Corrupt Jenova bound in Crystal, he became a curse upon all. Now, he wanders alone to mend the world, to help it heal from the damage he caused. 

Age: 30′s

Nature: As a Dryad, he is drawn to protect, care for, and stay near his connection source, and so he was very much a proud dweller of the Forgotten City and it’s forest. He mingled within the trees and smaller crystals, explored, tended to nature, and took down harmful beasts sent to taint the land. He was a peaceful being, but as he got older, he got restless and more protective, more intense, more closed off. He secluded himself. And then all connection and concern was twisted up and locked away inside him as intense loyalty turned into corrupt loyalty, leading him to harm others and lands beyond. But, his true nature is explorative, curious, intense and valiant, willing to fight as much as he is willing to stand by.

Personality: Curious, loyal, restraint with his empathy but yearning to reach it out to more in the world. He is a being seeking experiences but bound by loyalty for much of his life, and so he resigns himself to that existence and how it requires him to be, personally. But he begins to loose his free will, and control, and seemingly all chance at a free life to experience a great many things. In the throws of Jenova’s worst influence, he is cruel, angry, and seeking what he feels is vengeance and righteous cleansing. But it is not what he truly feels nor how he wished to live. When freedom comes once again, he finds himself experiencing the world with the weight of his crimes on his shoulders.  

History: Unknown to him for a great many years, and still a bit of a mystery in the present, he was the result of a cultist covens experiments and their desires to make a powerful supernatural being under their will. It was a failure, of course, as they delved too deep into their desperation and used the power of a cruel locked soul to aid their work. Through the greedy pride of Hojo, the conflicted coerced efforts of Lucrecia, and the cells of another experiment as well as the cells of the crystal mother, a new being was forged. His crystal cocoon holding his toddler sized, beginning form was carried forth to Jenova by Lucrecia, who begged for salvation for her son. His formative years was full of wonder and pride and appreciation of his land, respect and bonding with the locals within the town, and curiosity of what was beyond. He always found himself coming back to rest at the foot of the Mother crystal, where he felt at home, cradled, watched over by Mother Jenova, glowing and beautiful, and Mother Lucrecia, gentle and soft. His teen and adult years grew with troubles and problems, and more responsibilities, but he sought to do right by all. But, without his awareness and willingness, he felt that desire shrinking and narrowing, and slowly the world seemed to become toxic, the cruelties endless and festering, and he found himself haunted by visions of a doomed, decaying future. And he found himself followed Mother Jenova’s pleas for him to cleanse lands of the cruelty waiting to ruin the world. His bloodshed began in his home, the Forgotten City, but it stretched beyond, for only a few years, before a few warriors and one in particular stood against him, breaking through some part of him (or was it the influence of Mother Lucrecia, or both?), and taking him down, freeing him from the fate of being a dark hand any longer. By will of the mother that loved him truly, he found himself reborn for a second chance, and so he has taken it, to make amends and find where he once was again.

Powers/Abilities:

Energy influence over some nature and weather. The darkness or light of his influence is dependent on his state of mind.

Crystal energy connection, manipulation, energy flow.

Crystal influence as a part of him, meaning he naturally influences shards as a part of himself, and sometimes they can grow into sort of guards or simple crystal sources embedded in his skin.

Super speed, strength, extra senses especially connected to the awareness of the planet.

Energy warping for various purposes, from light display, to energizing, to healing, to blasts or shields.

Feral Form Powers; specific attacks linked to his claws, increased crystalizing, flight due to the wing upon his back made of crystals and energy, stronger levels of all other influences, can tap into the energy of the planets crystals for devestating power, if he so chooses.

Fae magic and Ancient magic spells and treatments.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Before the Dawn AU | Vincent Valentine (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

In this verse, Vincent stumbled into the grasps of two elders of a rather cult-like coven, seeking to make a Feral Vampire, a demon-power gifted blood sucker of legend. He had been investigating the disappearance of his father, which led him to a beautiful woman….and between her and her cruel mate who she loved by obligation of sire-hood and despised all at once, Vincent Valentine was trapped, tormented, and eventually turned before he had a chance to understand and break free. But not just turned, he was forced through many rituals; which involved foul blood of old, much pain on his part, and a few extra ingredients, not least of which a piece of sacred crystal that his two Sires risked a great deal to get, and would eventually pay for dearly--all in hopes to make him their success. And in a way, he was. Where most others became mute and wild, or died, or were barely strong enough to go out and hunt, he was strong, and held certain abilities connected to other beings that were unlike what normal vampires could wield (instead of just increased speed and strength and endurance, and immortality and enhanced sight, etc, he came to possess influence over some predators as well as predator like deformities he could summon (claws, a tail, horns, glowing eyes), blood influence over weaker vampires to where they could be glamoured like humans, and a small level of telekinesis, and telepathy with those he chooses to share a blood connection with, or is forced to). They intended to use him, though, and after years of torment and tests, he finally broke free of their control (to some degree, it was due to the Madame Sire, Lucrecia, and the fact that she seemed torn between cruelty and a gentle regretful heart that sought to help him and free him, as well as stop further unholy experiments of their Sire Hojo). His Madam Sire was lost to him, and it was some years before he learned of her true fate. And one he came to influence the rest of the coven himself, stronger than his Lord Sire, Hojo fled, with Vincent intent on hunting him down and ending him. From that moment on, Valentine sought to liberate vampires trapped by cruel covens, making one of his own that collected strays and those in need, and he makes a point to hunt down the disgusting wretches of the world. If he was going to be a monster, he might as well be the nightmare to other monsters.

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Name: Vincent Valentine (also known as the Blood Demon, or the Galian Fang)

Species: Feral Vampire (experimentally/ritually altered)

Role/Profession/Job: Former life = Paranormal Investigator and Handler (sometimes exterminator). Mid-Life during his time with the cult = Experiment subject. Current Life = Coven Leader (of the Valentine Coven), Hunter of the Irredeemable Damned, Shadow Aid to the Lost Damned

Age: 467

Nature: Before his change, he was a serious, committed human male, a hunter, trained by his father to know a monster/creature/abnormal being when he saw it, and know what to accept of it and what not, leading him to become a somewhat firm hunter and investigator. That ended when he found himself in the United Coven. After such time, he was angry, thirsty, and wild, being a feral being as he was. He knew how to handle a being like himself, but not how to be one. There was a time of chaos, but eventually, he found his control. Now, he is very much an intense, analytical Feral Vampire, only takes the blood of the willing and consenting, or the blood of those too damned to have any right. He was at a time ashamed of his more monster like state, but has sense come to have some level of peace with it and is known to be very intimidating and animalistic when on Hunts, but patient, quiet, and kind to those who deserve it.

Personality: Before his change, he was a bit secluded and inwardly curious with a big imagination--a bit of a story teller and artist, which bred a desire to see good in the world despite his family only searching for the bad. But years progressed and his role in life shifted. Seriousness and duty drove him, and drove him too far. He wanted to do right by his late father, and was a champion for the truth and balance amongst the dark. After his change, there was a secluded selfish streak as he tried to make sense of his new life, and had to let go of most of his self disgust and rage at his fate. Now, he thrives as a hand of justice, silent and secluded as he can tend to be, and an unconventional caretaker of the lost and misunderstood. 

History: He was troubled but committed. His family had made great strides in their work as Investigative Hunters, but they’d also lost quite a lot as well. For some time, he did not wish to follow his fathers work. But his father fell to an unknown Monster, and it left Vincent to carry on the legacy or leave their line disgraced and the world without a Valentine to make right the horrors of the truly damned. So he took up the mantle and the gun mad especially for him by his father, Cerberus, and began where his father left off. He found that his father was perhaps too old school and harsh on the subjects he would hunt, and made sure to study every facet of the situation before dealing out punishment--half of his targets would be left spared with warning and offer of support as well as absolute end were they ever to betray his trust and expectations, and the other half he exterminated without hesitation when it was made clear they were irredeemable. His hunt eventually led him to the Union Coven, very questionable and so secluded that he couldn’t get information on them without finding himself within the coven that turned out to be more of a cult. In the beginning he was welcomed, and treated as an ally, but he got too comfortable, and was taken advantage of. The Coven leader, Hojo, and his mate, Lucrecia, took him in, still trying to win his favor despite trapping him, and told him nonsense about a great and powerful breed of vampire, and how they sought to birth it into the world. He was against it, and the more he struggled, the more they restricted him, until he was locked away in a dungeon, slowly being drained. When he was near death, he found himself bitten by both mates, and his transition process was put on hold until they could get everything they needed to use him as an experimental trial for the Feral Vampire--something they had thus far failed with. It took a great deal of splicing, blood, and magical artifacts, but finally...they succeeded. Amidst it all, Hojo made it clear he was without a heart or care, he simply wanted to create monstrous wonders. And Lucrecia...was a mystery. One moment she was gleefully at her mates side, toying and testing, and the next she begged Vincent’s forgiveness and tended to him in a very doting fashion. A breed of conflicted, toxic love was coaxed within Vincent, and he was never sure if it was true, or just a part of their experiments. He hated and loved her, and wanted to be free, taking her with him. But it was not to be. In time, his power developed and grew, showing he was a success...and he took advantage of their success. Lucrecia was missing the day he broke free, and Hojo escaped. All beasts, loyal or mindless, within the coven, were wiped out by Vincent. He spent time hunting Hojo to destroy him, Lucrecia to demand answers, and then time struggling to come to terms with what he had become and the hunger within him. A great deal of guilt and suffeirng came, before he found his way again. In time, he sought to make right again the imbalance, but with a broader view than he had before. Now, he fought for the innocent humane beings, as well as the misunderstood creatures, and fought against the beasts without a shred of goodness or heart. In time it turned into a habit, to collect the misunderstood that were on their own, usually Vampires but sometimes other, and so his Coven began. It is a community of true, proper, balanced and caring unity and many of this within his coven follow in his footsteps to help better the world.

Powers/Abilities:

Normal Vampire abilities like increased strength, speed, durability, immortality, and very heightened senses.

Some level of the traditional shapeshifting, but sometimes tied into his Feral abilities.

Influence over susceptible/weaker predators (due to an Alpha-like nature to his Feral side), as well as predator-like deformities he could summon (claws, a tail, horns, glowing eyes). 

Blood influence over weaker vampires to where they could be glamoured like humans, along with his natural influence on what few Vampires he would ever create, if any. 

A small level of telekinesis, and telepathy with those he chooses to share a blood connection with, or is forced to connect with due to other reasons.

Shroud flight.

Presence/Authority amongst lower demons.

Some minor demonic magic.

Possible unexplored link to a demon.

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Beware the Dawn AU - Reno (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

Reno, the Red Noctis Incubus, is one of the more well known and high ranking Demons and Incubi out there, with such a varied pull of Sinergy (ha) from partners, as well as Deals, and Markings. He is tasked with collecting sensual energy from partners, as it gives energy and life to himself and his fellow sex demons, but he is a higher ranking sex demon, which means he is tasked with Marking--keeping a tail and connection on specific partners of interest or power (by claiming with seed), and making Deals with partners for one time or ongoing exnchanges, more often between the partners and his master, but on occasion, him. Despite some rules he doesn’t care for, Reno rather enjoys his job and is proud of his work, and seeks to see the world (and sin with every species he can).

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Name: Reno, the Red Noctis Incubus, or the Red Nightmare

Species: Incubus, Demon

Role/Profession/Job: Reasonably popular Rank 2 Incubus, under orders of the Shadow Boss from hell. Rank 2 Incubi not only bed clients/targets for their unique passion energy, to collect for use of the company as well as the demon themselves, but some targets must be Marked by the demons essence to track them for the interest of the boss, and some bedding endeavors are in search of deals for items, agreements, or business, or other such deals that might deal with more despicable circumstance.

Age: 139

Nature: Like half of his species, he was originally human (the other half being natural Incubi/Sucubi), and so there is still traces of his human baggage within the depths of him, but he has given in a great deal to the mischief, sensual freedom, and confidence of self that comes with his species. He rarely sleeps, unless he has gone a long time without sex, or has otherwise been weakened. He doesn’t each much at all, normal sentient food serving him no purpose unless specifically concocted with infusions of sensual energy that has been collected. Otherwise, he lives off of sensual energy. Without it, he wouldn’t so much die, as become too weak of body and will to do much of anything. He cares very little for trivial, human like problems, but on rare occasions, he can by forced to give in to sympathy, however rare.

Personality: He has a reputation for being very fluent in his work, and always active, which tends to raise a few eyebrows amongst the more professional, business focused Incubi. But he is one of the best, and knows his value well, and makes sure to toe the line between proper business and plentiful pleasure.  

History: Once  a gangster in his former life, struggling on the cobblestone streets to fight his way through ranks, for stability and sense of control. His conscious drove him back then, but it seemed it only drove him into the ground, and he found himself committing sins for the sake of weak and for himself, giving less and less of a damn for his future. He had a very unique, very individual honor code, that few could understand and he didn’t need them to. He found pride and that is what drove him, until he fell the blade of a supposed comrade, betrayed and his life at it’s end. But the next life welcomed him into a new self. He found he’d earned the rank and power of Incubus, and given this new, wild, wonderfully sinful life, he gave his all to it, and earned great reknown for it. He earned rank of one of the more powerful Demon Lords of hell, who ran quite a variety of Rankings, from Incubi, to Sucubi, to beast demons, to haunt demons, and many more. It took time, and a great deal of fuck ups and chances given, but he found his place as an Incubus, loving his new life, loving the way he could connect and toy with sentient, sexual beings, and the fact that he had a true functioning role in the underworld. It was purpose, without too many emotional strings, which to him, ironically, was heaven.

Powers/Abilities: 

Energy Consumption, during intercourse. 

Energy Manipulation, which is the ability to use that energy for himself, for protection or attack, or at times, to influence it within a subject.

Enhanced Sense of Smell, well honed on pheromones, but can at the very least sniff out the scent of species if he’s crossed them before.

Increased Speed and Strength

Levitation/Minor Flight, can only go so high, and can only fly for a certain amount of time

Demon Deal/Contract Ritual magic

Marking Magic, requires an incantation during intercourse to Mark

Adjustable Vision--simple wording for the fact that his vision, for the most part, is fairly clear in normal light, day light, and night time.

Arousal Manipulation, caused by touch usually, but for those particularly susceptible to his influence, for whatever reason, it can take just his gaze or his voice.

Demon attacks/blasts/protections, via demonic incantations.

[littlevengyhiro]

((SO now that I'm done with replies for the moment, Imma send this out;

I now have a page on my blog's page entitled 'AU-ception!! Vengy's Other AUs'!! This page is for AUs within the AU, if that makes any sense...

Basically, they're other AUs I've thought of for vengy. So, if anyone wants to RP with vengy!Hiro (or, in one special case, Tadashi and vengy!Hiro) in any of those AUs, just let me know in your question, starter, or what-have-you. I gotta go get some Tadashi icons for my special circumstance, mind you; but it shouldn't take overly long, I don't think...

Anyway!! I put up a starter last night for the first of the double-AUs to be made (there are currently only two on the list, but still this is the first one)- Cyber!Vengy. But, I put it up right before replying to stuff, so it may have been buried... So, I'm going to reblog it again in just a moment so that those interested can RP and help me expand on the AU!!

I hope you guys have fun with this!! And remember; original vengy!Hiro will always be my initial response, unless it is stated in the tags that I'm being another version of vengy. I hope this isn't too confusing oops.))

[gunontherun]

{The Vampire Xigbar}

Xigbar is a one hundred and thirty three year old vampire, but even he originated with a human background. Back then, he was known by the name of Braig saner, a small town country boy living with his parents.

  Born in the year Fourteen-sixty, in a town called Lasi, located in Romania, Braig grew up in a time of fishing industry, with his mother being the typical stay at home housewife, as was proper in those ages, while his dad went to work on the fishing boats, leaving the boy to run around at home, and explore the vast woods behind his home. They lived on the outskirts of town, and were the farthest from Bahuli River, which ran past Lasi, which was known as the ‘City of Seven hills’.

  By the age of seven, Braig had begun to learn the trade of fishing, often accompanying his father out on the river, while his Mother did the shopping in the market, or tended to the housework at home.

  At the age of Nine, he’d successfully managed to hook what would be the biggest catch of his life, a thirty six pound fish, and he and his father returned home that night with the intent to cook it up for dinner, only to find that the house had caught fire. Re-stocking the fireplace was one of the child’s chores at the time, and one of the only chores he had, aside from throwing feed to the chickens, and that fateful morning, he’d failed to shut the grate properly, and stray sparks had caused the living area furniture to catch on fire.

  It spread quickly, and by the time that anyone had managed to dampen the flames enough to get into the building, his mother had already died of smoke inhalation. The fires origin was clear due to the worst of the damage being present in the living room, where the fireplace was lit, and being as it was the only fire going at the time, the candles in the rest of the house out while the sun was high in the sky, the blame fell to Braig.

  The townsfolk tried to reason with his enraged father, who’d backhanded him across the face, shouting that his wife, and the boys son was dead because of his failure to do what was basically his only chore improperly, and that he would never be forgiven for it. Such as it was, the father refused to raise Braig from that point on, and he ended up residing in the town Orphanage, his life beginning to take a turn for the worse.

  In those days, the orphanage was filled to the brim, and there was just barely enough food for the children to all eat a full serving of food, and not enough people to keep them all in check, which meant that a fair few of them got into fights, many of which escalated into full scale violence, and it also meant that there was not enough people to ensure that the rest didn’t run away to the streets, where tens of youth died each year from not having enough food in their bellies, or a roof over their heads when the harsh winter season came.

  By the age of thirteen, Braig had become a troublemaker, and many of the children did not get on well with him

  At the age of sixteen, he struck out on his own, deciding that he’d had more than enough of the place of his upbringing, deciding to enter the fishing trade once more, despite the fact that his father was still in the business at the time. For some reason, he’d thought there would be little chance of running into him if he did his fishing from the shore, but his reasoning was false. There was a confrontation, and he walked away from it, his body bruised and his heart battered, from the words his father had thrown at him, how he was no longer even considered a part of the man's lineage. He’d hoped that perhaps, one day, his father would come to accept that the loss had been the result of an accident, but he’d been proven wrong.

  That was the day he decided that familial attachments were far too painful, and began to move across the country. The first place he moved to was Pascani, though he only stayed there for a little less than a month, deciding that the environment was not somewhere he wished to live. From there, he traveled across the country, until he reached Teleorman, which was nicknamed the ‘Mad forest’, a small town nestled in the woods. It was quiet, and while known for its fishing, was also known for hunting.

  He would live there for near twelve years, before he fell in love with a woman named Aurora, a woman who ran a hairdressing business, and also made their own clothing. She was outside the norm, and it was her unique talents and qualities that attracted him to her, the dark haired man pursuing her for a few years before she relented at last, when he was twenty four years of age, agreeing to join him in marriage.

  Her father was not thrilled. And it was a struggle alone to get the man’s blessing, which took him another half year, and more than one failed hunting trip, which he embarrassed himself on, before he finally felled a mature elk, impressing her father and gaining his approval. They were married that year in the fall.

  Sixteen months later, they were proud parents of a beautiful little girl named Elleen, and Braig was determined to be a better father than his was to him, working as a hunter by day, and remaining at home by night, so that he could watch their child grow, helping to educate her, as school only taught so much.

  Unfortunately...their happy family was chosen as a target not three years later, six days before their wedding anniversary, by a creature who sought their blood. The night was brutal, and remains burned in Braig’s minds eye as the worst night of his life, worse than even the day when his mother died, as his wife and child were assaulted and killed before his eyes, as he lay, weak and struggling, beneath a man he didn’t know as a female drained his family of their lifes blood. Her mate would have done the same to him, except for the fact that Auroras father had arrived for a visit, and they were quick to flee.

  Braig didn’t recall being found, only knew that he’d woken up in the towns small medical clinic, and been told that his wife and child had been found dead, bloodless, and he was found on the ground, lacking in blood, and with more than one broken bone, but alive.

  Hearing that news was the day the rest of his heart broke. Many years prior, it’d been damaged beyond repair by a parent that blamed him for a crime he never meant to commit, and now he’d lost the last remaining things he held dear and close to his heart.

  He didn't think his humanity would be lost as well, less than a month later.

  He developed a burning fever that would not leave his body, and nurses tended him around the clock, before, three weeks later, his flesh weak and giving out, they deemed him ‘beyond saving’, and wheeled him into the morgue for what they’d declared would be his final night alive. He spent the night there, surrounded by dead bodies, being prepared for burials, before his heart finally gave out, and he died.

  Two nights later, he clawed his way out of a coffin, his eyes streaming with tears as he gasped for air, having dragged himself from his underground prison, before turning to find his gravestone.

  He was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.

  He was paler than he had been in life, but it ddidn'tlast long, when he discovered a burning thirst that would not be quenched by water nor wine, and attacked a passerby in a feeding frenzy. He came to his senses, his clothes soaked in blood, the dead mans wife shrieking loud enough to wake the dead, and his thirst gone.

  He fled as far as he could, away from the towns, and retreated into hiding for a number of years.

  The blood of animals sustained him for many a year, before he was discovered up in the mountains by a man who called himself Ansem the Wise. He had platinum blond hair, and piercing orange eyes, that terrified Braig at first, until they had a conversation, and he had a glimpse of how kind the man was.

  It surprised him to learn that the other man was also a blood-drinker, one who partook of the blood of animals, as to leave humankind untainted, and he listened to Braig’s sad history with a great deal of sympathy. In time, he came to view the older male as a sort of father figure, looking up to him, and joining him in his travels. Safety in numbers, the older man had said, because Vampires had many enemies.

  And he found this to be true in later years. They had encountered a rather nasty tempered wolf by the name of Xehanort, which had attacked them when they passed through its territory, and Braig had received a nasty gash across his leg, one that never healed quite right, impairing his running from that point on.

  His role model found amusement in his running style in later months, gently telling him that he need not swing his arms with every step to maintain his balance, as he continued to do once the wound was healed.

  Braig had given the elder a very cross look at those words, and the topic was changed at once.

  In the year Fourteen Thirty-seven, the two men settled down in a town that was overcast many days out of the year, enabling them to move about in the daylight and appear more normal, which enabled them to live more comfortably.

  Ansem was a man of rich tastes, and their home was beautifully decorated indoors, while the outside was also lavish, due to the darker skinned male being fairly rich himself. And when they finally finished furnishing, Ansem revealed that he’d had a bedroom converted into a large den, with many bookshelves, most of the books being in Ansems own writing, and having detailed notes on the many places of the world the elder vampire had visited. Braig was enthralled by many a tale over the next two years, and thanks to his mentors wide and patient teaching, now had extensive knowledge in history, in English literature, and had even picked up another language; French. He even had the resolve to visit the grand city of Paris, located in France, in a few years time. Frozen in time at age twenty seven, he had all the time in the world to visit the places he’s heard of now, and he continues to travel the country of gGermanyas it was, when they had the free time to do so, often camping up in the mountains after a successful hunting trip.

  However, all good things must come to an end eventually, and he is saddened when the older male gently tells him that they must part ways. The older vampire confesses that he has family elsewhere, a son by the name of Chiar, that he’s neglected to visit in quite some time, and a message has finally reached him, informing him of the man's marriage some years back, and of the joyous birth of his grandson.

  Who was he to ask Ansem to stay when he had other priorities he needed to attend to as a father?

  And so, Braig returns to a lonely life, though for once, he has memories of good times while in that house, but eventually he strikes out again, and migrates down into the western part of Germany just bordering on France. He’s done a good job of blending among the human populace thus far, and has stayed true to Ansems teachings, feeding on the blood of animals, and honoring the deaths of his family on the day they died, so many years ago, by telling them aloud, despite the fact that they could not hear him, that he loved them.

  Though he does have a few relationships with females, and even the occasional male, when his experimental side rears its ugly head, he does not settle down with any of them.

  His heart has suffered too much damage to place it into the hands of another for safekeeping, and he does not wish to take a human lover, only to lose them to time itself, watching them age, while he stayed the same, until they questioned his humanity and discovered the monster he truly was.

  By age forty, he has grown his hair out to mid-back, and has finally learned to accept those silver hairs, gained from years of stress, that streak through his hair.

  By age fifty, he has seen Ansem again, and met his biological family, socializing with them for a time before they parted ways once again, the other group moving to northern Germany

  At age Seventy, he finally decides its high past time to carry out his long time goal of moving to and living in France. He’d read about it, but seeing the country, tasting its food and breathing its air...words do his new, beautiful home no justice, and he is finally at peace in his chosen home.

  And now that he has his new life, he decides to greet it with a new name, and start over from square one.

  From that day, Braig no longer existed, and Xigbar rose in his place.

  Xigbar was a cocky man, talented with a crossbow, and clever with his words. His aim was remarkable, able to hit a target from a hundred and fifty feet away, and he often boasts about his talent and strength.

It was one night in the tavern, when the moon was full in the sky, that a man rose to his challenge, thrown carelessly from his alcohol-loose lip, his brain addled by well aged wine, and said that he was stronger.

  Disbelieving, he’d laughed, and told the other to prove it, following him outside when the Tavern owner told them to leave his place of business before they began any battles.

  It was not ten feet away from the building that his opponent had shifted shape, a terrifying howl cutting through the silence of the night, before he was charged, and a massive paw collided with his face, gashing his cheek open and damaging his right eye at the same time. He’d known right then that he stood no chance.

  He fled.

  And he was in the middle of France by the time he stopped running, his eye sealed shut with his own caked, dry blood, and he’d stumbled into a medical center, pleading for help, and receiving it. They’d told him he was blind in his right eye, and that the wound on his cheek would be permanent, and he learned that day never to boast so recklessly about his strength and aim, lest he be challenged like that again.

  He learned to be careful. It was the first lesson that Ansem had taught him, and he’d forgotten it. He learned to be stealthy too, when he found that same man six years later, and exacted his revenge for his lost eye and disfigured face. Imagine his horror and shame when he found that he’d killed a father of four.

  He was no longer able to live in that town. Not now that he was a murderer.

  He wandered for a time, struggling with the crime he had committed. As a child, the death of his mother had always weighed heavily on his conscience, but he’d never caused it with his own hands. From France, back up to Romania, where he learns of his fathers passing, to Germany once more, he seeks out his foster father, and he confessed what he had done to Ansem. Clearly, he was disappointed,  for he had always spoken against violence to Braig, especially with his past, and seeing how violence destroyed a family.

  But he was also kind, helping Xigbar to find penance by encouraging him to return, and do something for the despairing family. Obviously, he couldn't return the body, as he’d mutilated it beyond recognition, and seeing their loved one like that would only worsen their despair, he forged a note, and sent it to them, saying that the man of the household had been found killed by a wild animal, and had been cremated.

  It had made them more miserable, but they were also put at ease, knowing that the husband and father would never return, but was now in a better place, rather than wondering what had happened to him.

  He even hunted for them in secret for a time, and they never questioned who their mysterious benefactor was, assuming it was one of the people who had found their deceased loved one. And finally, at the age of seventy nine, he watched as the last of the four children left the household an adult, and could put his past behind him.

  He would never be absolved of his crimes, but he could live with them now.

  In the year Fourteen Eighty-three, Xigbar finally reached France. It was every bit as amazing as Ansems journals had described so long ago, and for the first time in so many years, he finally felt at peace.

  And for the first time in a long time, he was able to call a place home, and stay there for more than a few years before leaving. In Fourteen Ninety Nine, he came across a little orphan boy, his parents deceased and the child living on the streets, who didn't have a name he could recall. He felt pity at the time, and resolved to find him a proper home, or at least, a place where he could be war and fed, and with his own kind.

  He hadn't foreseen the emotional attachment that grew between them as the boy, who was nearly mute, grew to be a cheerful young teen, by the name given to him; Arrow, by Xigbar. He knew he could never give the boy up to anyone by that point, and he found himself in the role of ‘father’ once more.

  And it made him happy.

  The year fifteen hundred and six marked his one hundredth birthday, and he was beginning to feel uneasy.

  He hasn't aged a day since he was twenty eight, and even his son had noticed that he wasn't changing. He avoided talking about it as much as he could, but seven years later, Arrow begged him for the truth, and he couldn't avoid it any longer. He sat down with his son, and told him the long tale of how he came to be who he was, how old he was, and what he was, waiting a flip-flopping stomach for his sons response at the end.

  He’d expected anger. Disbelief. Something other than the tight hug he got instead, the teen telling him in no uncertain terms that what he was didn't matter, and neither did anything that far back in the past, because before anything else, Xigbar was his father, and he loved him too much to think anything bad of him.

  He remembers how utterly relieved he was that day, that he had not lose Arrow as well. At age fifteen, his son asked him, on his birthday, to turn him as well, so that Xigbar wouldn't have to suffer eternity alone.

  He wanted to refuse, but with no end in sight, and his unwillingness to watch his son age before his eyes, and die before he did, he agreed. However, he had no idea how to turn his son, and settled for repeating his own experience, minus the arm breaking, draining the teen until he had turned pale, and he watched him grow ill with horrible guilt. What had he brought upon his son? He shouldn't have made such a selfish decision.

  He should have refused, and let his son live a normal life, like he so much wished he could have done.

  It nearly killed him to watch Arrow draw his last breath, and remain still on that bed, cold as death, for nearly three days afterwards, and when he finally did resurface, newly born into the life of a vampire, he’d cried from relief to see him awake and talking. The first hunting expedition had been...messy, to say the least.

  He’d been more worried about his son being injured by the deer they were chasing, and it would have escaped, had he not thrown himself on top of it, knocking it off balance and pinning it to the ground, so that his son could feast on its blood. But his son was a quick learner, and he was proud when the teen said that he wished to use a bow, training him to shoot targets with a practice bow, before they moved on to the real thing, hunting in the wild, and close to the city sometimes, so that Arrow would become used to differentiating the smells of civilization, the wild, and places in the country where he had to avoid.

  It wouldn't do to kill a farmers livestock, after all, and draw attention to themselves.

Xigbar was soon a hundred and thirty two years old, his son still living with him in that cabin outside of Paris, hand-built by himself, and his foster family, when they’d come up to see how he was faring. They’d had to adapt some human blood into their diet after all, when the city expanded further, and the animals moved further east, but they were always careful to limit the amount they took, and never to bite the humans.

  Instead, they carried knives, so that they could nick the skin, and take blood as a leech would, closing their lips around the wound and sucking the blood out, without infecting them with the venom from their teeth.

  And this was what led to one fateful night, the moon beginning to rise in the sky, though obscured by clouds, when he’d stalked a man through the back alleys to his home, to discover that he’d stalked a werewolf, but one outside the norm, who had no idea what he was. It was that knowledge that interested him, and he made a decision to learn more about the man who was essentially his natural enemy, but bore him no threat outside of the full moon, unlike previous Werewolves he had met before.

  And in the year Fifteen Thirty nine, he find himself offering that same werewolf a place to live, as his own is wrecked, looted by bandits while he’d chased the werewolf through the countryside.

  He doesn't know what the future will bring, but he’ll take it all and stride, and deal with whatever comes, as it comes. It was clear that this out of place werewolf, Xaldin,  had the potential to be his greatest enemy…

  ….Or his greatest friend.