@mei-is-tarnished
@angel-hawthorne this is the new OC I mentioned, Dominic St. Hexus
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@theprototyperepository
@mei-is-tarnished
@angel-hawthorne this is the new OC I mentioned, Dominic St. Hexus
OPEN RP - ALL WELCOME
Eurus faced the far wall, chin rested against the violin at her shoulder, eyes shut as her fingers used the bow to draw a slow, melancholy melody from it's strings.
She hasn't said a word or stopped playing in weeks now, going on the third in a row. Of course, she hasn't had much reason to stop. At least until now. The lights would click as someone stepped in, filling the room with a sharp white light instead of the dim glow it was usually bathed in.
Eurus would stop playing a moment, though she kept her back to the glass. Finally, she'd speak, the first time she'd uttered a word in ages.
"I'm not supposed to be having any visitors today."
Laveina had followed a lovely melody to its source, its beautifully melancholic notes leading this blind musician like a moth to a flame. Every time the music grew louder his heart fluttered and with every dip, signifying to him an erroneous turn, he felt detached in a cycle which, even on its own brought with it a unique joy he had not known since...no, it was better not to think of such things.
"And I, by all rights, should not be alive this day." He responded with a tone of wonderment and slight smile gracing his cracked lips, "but what is meant to be and what truly is are often separate, but please, I beg you, continue your beautiful song...though perhaps accompany it now with your immaculate voice."
She turns, bow coming up again to continue playing- But she doesn't sing. The music- slow, and soft, and sad- came to here easily, played out as simply as though it were like one pouring a glass of water.
"Perhaps not. But you are, and you're here, and a visitor nonetheless. Though not for me," she says softly, continuing the ever evolving sad melody.
And it's then that the woman offers a more joyful note in her somber tune. Interest piqued within a world of confinement, and the music would turn simply into a story, should the blind man have the ears to listen.
The continued tune enthralled him, waves of beautiful notes filling his soul with splendor. He soon found himself unable to resist the urge bubbling inside of him, the ebonywood guitar slung across his back floating into his hands as softly as a feather carried by a gentle current.
"Though your music is what drew this humble soul to you, it is your angelic essence which now keeps me here", he responded softly as her song took him further into wonder, "with your permission, may I provide some accompaniment?"
Muse Expose: Laveina Casarrat
Summarized History
Born a peasant in the kingdom of Isium his childhood was spent farming and pursuing interests of the mundane, most notably music.
Eventually his trained musical talents, along with hus hobbyist abilities in magic, attracted the attention of Isium's princess and the two began a heartfelt but secret (due to societal pressures) romance which lasted years until a more "fitting" noble asked the princess's father for her hand in marriage.
The princess, despite her father's acceptance of the offer, rejected the noble outright. This rejection caused the noble to become enraged and vengeful, eventually culminating in him attempting to slay the princess while she and Laveina were enjoying one of their secretuve rendezvous with a glass dagger filled with a terrible poison.
The dagger shattered on impact, near immediately killing its intended target and blinding Laveina permanently.
Bio
Full Name: Laveina Claude Casarrat
Ethnic appearance: Caucasian
Accent: light British mixed with subtle German tones
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 180lbs
Description: slim but athletic with medium length well-kempt grey hair, dull grey/blue eyes, semi-tanned skin and two parallel horizontal scars on either side of his neck.
Personality: often lonesome but very sociable, seemingly unfazed or even amused by his blindness, poetic and often wistful, deeply imaginative.
Talents/abilities: gifted guitarist and floutist, extensive knowledge of farming, limited and mostly music-based magic, chronological immortality.
OPEN RP - ALL WELCOME
Eurus faced the far wall, chin rested against the violin at her shoulder, eyes shut as her fingers used the bow to draw a slow, melancholy melody from it's strings.
She hasn't said a word or stopped playing in weeks now, going on the third in a row. Of course, she hasn't had much reason to stop. At least until now. The lights would click as someone stepped in, filling the room with a sharp white light instead of the dim glow it was usually bathed in.
Eurus would stop playing a moment, though she kept her back to the glass. Finally, she'd speak, the first time she'd uttered a word in ages.
"I'm not supposed to be having any visitors today."
Laveina had followed a lovely melody to its source, its beautifully melancholic notes leading this blind musician like a moth to a flame. Every time the music grew louder his heart fluttered and with every dip, signifying to him an erroneous turn, he felt detached in a cycle which, even on its own brought with it a unique joy he had not known since...no, it was better not to think of such things.
"And I, by all rights, should not be alive this day." He responded with a tone of wonderment and slight smile gracing his cracked lips, "but what is meant to be and what truly is are often separate, but please, I beg you, continue your beautiful song...though perhaps accompany it now with your immaculate voice."
She sighed. “Look, to get by, we all have to make small sacrifices. Want a job where you can be yourself, here’s my card.” She handed him a black embossed card with simply Angels Incorporated written and a phone number. “Nah, he is quite dead, and he hated your kind.” She sighed, pulling him down near her. “Get down, you blow my cover I would really like to not get shot at today.” She warned.
The card confused him, he had never seen the like or much less been offered a job. "If your wisdom rings true, I may follow you..." He responded almost in a monotone while examining the object, her sudden pull on him startling him for a second.
"If a bullet finds anyone, may it be me..." He whispered hoping she would not hear.
Immortal, Lost Once More (closed Rp with @bxrningambitions )
Once more his hunger had betrayed him, a peaceful life amongst modern mortals shattered by one haste-fueled act of self-preservation in the form of him drinking the lifeblood from a young adult.
He had managed to escape his pursuers, the sirens far behind him as he rested atop a small rise surrounded on all sides by dense forest. As he looked skyward, snow white eyes drinking in the beautiful night sky, he lamented heavily this most recent of ruined chances.
"Why...why must this be my fate?" He questioned as if speaking to the world itself, his voice heavy with the sadness coursing through him. "To never know a pleasant day, to always be pursued for merely existing..."
Eve sighed, staring at the lamenting man across the roof top from her as she did her best to ignore his ‘Oh woe is me’ mentality. Turning the music on her headphones louder, she looked once again through the scope of her rifle, she had better things to do than listen to his pity party. “For one thing you talk too much.” She muttered, sitting completely still violet eyes ringed with gold trained on her target. “Also you make yourself too obvious there are ways to exist without looking like you walked right out of Bram Stoker novel.” She sighed, tossing him shades.
"While I thank you for the shaded glasses and advice, if I cannot exist as I am, can I truly live?" He questioned reluctantly donning the shades, his vision taking a moment to adjust to his new tinted view as he looked to this woman unfortunate enough to overhear him "perhaps this Bram Stoker would know..."
Immortal, Lost Once More (closed Rp with @bxrningambitions )
Once more his hunger had betrayed him, a peaceful life amongst modern mortals shattered by one haste-fueled act of self-preservation in the form of him drinking the lifeblood from a young adult.
He had managed to escape his pursuers, the sirens far behind him as he rested atop a small rise surrounded on all sides by dense forest. As he looked skyward, snow white eyes drinking in the beautiful night sky, he lamented heavily this most recent of ruined chances.
"Why...why must this be my fate?" He questioned as if speaking to the world itself, his voice heavy with the sadness coursing through him. "To never know a pleasant day, to always be pursued for merely existing..."
Muse Debut: Pariah
Real Name: Dominic St.Claire
Race: human of debatable demonic lineage
Age: 45
Birthdate: exact date is unclear
Description: proud jawline, medium length brown hair, bright yellow to near golden eyes, slash scar from right corner of forehead to left side of jaw, usually wears typical edgelord black leather attire studded with short metal spikes on the shoulders, knuckles and knees, often seen carrying an immense longsword and two shorter tantos
Voice: surprisingly young sounding, light German accent, relaxed but deep
Personality:oddly chivalrous given his occupation, confident, not fearless but just really good at controlling it, analytical but prone to temper
Brief Origins: born and raised to replace his father, the late despot known as Antithesis, he was trained practically from the time he could walk to rule his father’s large kingdom and taught the finer points of political subterfuge, manipulation and misdirection.
as he aged he was introduced to the art of combat, struggling to learn some of the more technical styles but soon gaining a master-level understanding and aptitude in all he was taught thus becoming a fierce fighter even without the aid of his kingdom’s armies.
at the age of 20 he saw his father and mother killed in a coup started by a large group of dissenting generals. fortunately they saw the young prince as more of an asset they could mold than an enemy to be destroyed and put him in as the figurehead for their nation, a post that was almost entirely for appearances sake while the generals lead from behind the scenes.
not content with being little more than a showpiece, Pariah used what he had learned growing up to truly grab power, eventually becoming the ruler he was literally born to be.
Headcanons
he learned from his father’s mistakes and treats his armies more like trusted friends than disposable pawns, often fighting alongside them when a hero comes to challenge him.
he takes duels only semi-seriously, seeing them as a chance to learn rather than as serious contests of skill his care for his army is genuine, even to the point of offering himself up as a one on one challenger if an enemy seems too far out of his soldiers’ capabilities unlike most typical villains, he has no illusions of being the good guy in any way. he knows his role and relishes in it. relatedly, he has learned from other would-be world conquerers and avoids pitfalls such as elaborating on his plans or keeping well-acquainted groups together in the same cell. if a challenger admits defeat, he will most often let them go with the advice that they look for a different line of work
Talk to my muse!
…No really, that’s it. Talk to them. Ask them stuff. Make them blush. Make them cry. Make them question everything. I don’t care just say something to them. Go nuts.
Muse Debut: Ophellus
Full Name: Ophellus Saryava Divinius
Race: Immortal, Empath and Mortalis Vampire
Age: 10,000
Birthdate: 9/21/7981 B.C.E
Description: semi-pale complexion, raised brow ridge, X-shaped scar intersectibg mod way dow the bridge of his nose, below waist length black hair, Messianic facial hair, beefy athletic build, all four canines as retractable fangs, snow white irises, soft jaw
Voice: deep but refined, very slight Gaelic/English accent
Personality: friendly to a point, mostly closed off to romances or deep friendships, somewhat antisocial, can be a bit depressing, secretly craves affection, kind but cautious
Brief Origins: born to a tribe of late cro-magnon immortals near the beginning of the rise of modern humans, the earliest years of his life were spent hunting to survive.
With the proliferation of human cultures unfortunately came a new level of hostility between his kind and those subject to the ravages of time with the end result being the gradual extinction of his tribe which eventually left him to fend for himself.
Headcanons
His immortality is the cause of his romantic unavailability as the greef from outliving many loves has fostered an extreme hesitance to risk that pain again
While immune to time, he can still die of starvation and injury. The former of which causes him to periodically hunt for sources of blood and energy
In theory he could rebuild his tribe through forced conversions but he refuses to on the premise of morality