Jinxer
Secretive - Hostile - Sturdy
left one was a dancer
Pet Name: Jinxer
Owner: polyp
Theme / Type: Lanturn Jinx
.: Not Just for Survival :.
Hit Points: 0 / 10
Strength: 6
Defense: 8
Speed: 6
Intellect: 7
Misticpower: 7
Battles Won: 5
Battles Lost: 4
| Attached Weapons | |
.: Useful Against my Enemies :.
Books Read: 2/373 [ View Books ]
1. Mistic Mist
2. Mistifying
2. Mistifying
.: Simply Delicious :.
Foods Eaten: 4/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - 5k Celebration Cake
2. - Clockwork Pomme
3. - Draklaita Cookie
4. - Inside-Out Pomme
2. - Clockwork Pomme
3. - Draklaita Cookie
4. - Inside-Out Pomme
demonomancer
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You don't need to know what I do all day,
It's as much as I know watch it waste away
They always hung around. They snuck out of corners, seeped through the windowsills, and particularly loved nighttime. Most times they were small, but they'd get bigger when he was distressed; anger in particular caused them to thrive. When he raged, when he threw things and shouted and punched his walls and cried, they'd only draw closer. They'd only grow in size, they'd only darken in their shadowy color, they'd only solidify.
They never threatened him. Not directly, at least. They just seemed curious, crawling out of the darkness just to see how things were going. Sometimes they tried to speak to him; garbled, twisted noises would spill from their ugly mouths. The worst part was he could sometimes understand them. Never were good things spoken. They liked the way he seemed to occupy real space, the way he breathed air. Demons couldn’t do that--not at this size, anyhow. He guessed that's why they came around so often; like underdogs to the alpha, they'd submit to his whims for a taste of the hunt. He never let them near their prize.
Some had eyes that glowed like the ends of burning cigarettes. Others didn't. They smelled of smoke, usually, or of carcasses, and couldn’t create their own forms. Rather, they lurked about as swirling masses of black, or gray, or even rarely white. Those always startled him the most. The dictionary said white was pure.
Demons were not pure. They took his sister. Or, rather, he did.
ASHER - GREY
sold not his own soul, but his sister's, to the collector for his own gain
greed and deception and guilt incarnate
Age: 17
Gender: Male
SO: Pansexual
Status: Pained and distracted
Personality: Asher was once fun-loving and playful as any teenage boy should be, getting into trouble as frequent as possible. He was an avid dancer, and dabbled in some arts he perhaps shouldn't have. After his deal with the collector had been sealed, he realized the consequences of his actions as his sister fell into a coma; he is now stony and remorseful as well as frequently suicidal.
Occupation: Dancer, demonomancer
Likes: Candles, reading, rue flowers
Dislikes: Harsh light, demons (how ironic)
Height: 5'11"
Build: Average for his age
Hair Color: Shiny, raven-like black
Hair Length: Spiky and to his eyebrows. Often swept up.
Eye Color: Deep, stone-like gray.
Skin Tone: Tan.
Go and see the sorcerer look into a ball,
You may find the answer written on the w a l l,
The left one was a dancer--can you see the answer?
can you see the answer?
| Anarchic says Well, if you're not a demon, not an angel, and not a saint, what are you then, hmm? If you aren't tainted, and aren't pure, then really, what are you? You either are pure or you're not kid, though the level of impurity, that's a whole different topic. |
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