¤) Wasteland, Characters.

Name: Zalgo Drain
Age: unknown
Gender: Male
Height: 1.89 cm. (6'2)
Personality: Zalgo is very friendly, calm, and he is kind of sarcastic to. Altough he likes being alone most of the time. He does enjoy having friends. And he just cant take it when somebody talks to much. And he can be very stubborn (not in a selfish way). He wont quickly ask for anyone's help.
Magic: Darkness and Electricity, He can teleport 50 meters away from the place he is standing. But he cant do it over and over agian. With Electricity (A.K.A. Lightning) he let's it flow through his body for defensive or offensive goals. When doing that injuries that he still has, will get worse. Altough this only happens when he uses alot of it. With small amounts of Lightning (aka, warming something up to make a fire) It wont matter so much. (Oh and his lightning is blue becuse blue is awesome.) He can also sense if someone is a magic user, And if there has been any activity with magic. With darkness Zalgo can cause small animals to not be able to move for a while. Litterly locking them down to the ground. And he can make shields to that light up in purple on the place where it gets hit. And with that some more dark stuff. He can also '' heal '' small wounds.
Weapons: 2 Sickles but he likes to call it Hooks. Also he has a handgun (pretty much a glock ). From a building he can precisely snipe people with it. Altough he takes priority in those weapons, he is just as good with other weapons. He also has several trowing knifes, altough he mostly misses people on purpose, He can hit with it to. (Idk if you can call the song perfect weapon as a weapon but well here it is if you'd call it one XD)
Weakness:  Being very stubborn, he wont easely say that somethings wrong with him, That can cause the injuries only to get worse.
Trivia: Zalgo is a lone wolf. He likes to work alone and just be alone in general. Altough when he has a really close friend he will be very loyal and enjoying to not be alone with that friend. Also he has potential to be one of the '' strongest '' mages, altough he cant quite fully control his ability's. Also when people talk to much, He just sets the song '' Perfect Weapon '' on 100% volume and plays it out loud to make people shut up.
Skills: He is very good at parkour (Free style ect) That allows him to Climb up walls and tree's with ease. And just jump over walls like a bad-ass. He can also sneak up to people rather un-noticeable. 
Fears: Himself, not able to control his magic and hurting other's cause of that.
Design: Longish Black Jacket/ coat with purple edges with a cap on it (that he rarely has on his head). Plane black T-Shirt. Black pants with chains as a belt. And black boots. Zalgo has black hair with purple highlightes and wears a purple beanie with black edges. Also he has a slight scar on his right eye (which causes him to see less on that side ), altough you don't exactly see that becuse his hair's infront of it. He also has a bag with him with some extra clothes (Purple/ Black striped sweather, a normal black leather jacket. Some braclets altough he doesn't really wear them. And a black beanie.) His diary, some pen and paper. And well Headphones and afcourse a phone with loads and loads of music on it.

[b]art:[/b] :

Backstory:
When my mother knew she was pregnant, she immidiently left my father. She didnt want any children with him anyway. 'It was just for one week' She said. But she did keep me. She just couldn't life with the fact that she '' killed '' a unborn child. What my brother thought of my mother? We dont know. When he was 19 he left us. He just vanished. Or shoud I say half brother? Well, see my mom already had a child. She would name her children of how she expected them to be. She was right with the names though. My oldest brother's name was Desdemona, With Desdemona meaning Ill-starred. Or well in normal English '' Unlucky ''. He changed his name to Daniel. My mother, she was somekind of psychic... 
When I was about 6 years old I got another sibling. I was suprised hearing my mom was back with her ex, I was 5 at that time . And I just couldnt believe she got another child. For once, He had a normal name. They just called him Sammy. Well, My mother and Step dad, hated me. They just hated me. But enough about my famely. When I was around 10 I just started jumping from rock to rock. Not really a big distance, but my '' friends '' where like: 'How do you do that!!! Thats awesome ' I just jumped from rock to rock. Nothing real. But well... I started finding out how to jump further and further. So well, I trained myself in,,, jumping.... When my mom found out, she forced me to take 'parkour ' lessons. Aka Free Running. I trained alot becuse like alot of 10 years old in that time I wanted to be a super heroe! But well that failed. I fell alot, broke alot of bones whilst falling. But I kept going. And after 6-7 years I actually became very good at it. I still train a little bit. Just to not forget it. Altough I'm not really build to do this. I can easely lift myself.
Since I was 12 I studied magic, first it was just pulling a bunny out of a hood. But then when I got the right books. It was different. I found out taht I had potential to be a strong 'mage' . So I studied alot becuse I wanted to be one. I wrote most important things in my diary, spells ect. I write and draw lots of stuff in it to. A year later. I could do base Lightning magic and after that the darkness came. I still keep this diary with me in my bag.
I was 15 and stil in school. My brother didnt like me having blue highlights. So well he pulled a joke on me and put green hair dye on my pillow. And his sinister plan worked. Next day, my hair was neon green. In school I didnt have much friends, well I had 'friends' but I barely know them. The whole class was making fun of me, like always but stil. I didnt enjoy it in anyway possible. I was a smart student, altough I didnt really use my inteligence for school.
29 February, my birthday. I needed to wait 2 years for my birtday to actually come. So well, I geuss my parents just forgot about me. I wasnt suprised not getting any '' happy birtday '' on 28 February or well the first day of March. Altough that morning, 28 February, Sammy appearently sneaked into my room and left a box on my bed, there was a letter on it. '' Dear brother, I'm sorry for dying you're hair green. And for all the problems I caused you. When I was about to get beaten up by some punks, you where there for me, you told me to run home so I did, Really, thank you. You can go look look in the box now (: ''. I opened the box, looking inside it and I saw a little black kitten laying in it. It looked up to me and started spinning. I was thankful for Sammy to give me Aily, my little cat.
A week later the punks showed up agian. They wanted revenge. But this time they all got weapons with them. Knives, guns, Metal bars. And even a baseball bat. They just outnumbered me. One by one they ran at me, I could barely keep them off. They started coming faster and I couldn't keep them all off anymore, one of them cut my right eye, I held my hand on it, at the start not feeling any pain. But when I saw blood on my hand. I held my arms infront of my head, for any chance to survive this. But then there was this big flash. And then Thunder sounds. I opened my eyes, seing that everyone horribly died. There was blood everywhere, caused by them being blown agianst the wall, and knives flying everywhere.  I knew I was able to control Electricity and Darkness.... But it never went this far. I quickly ran away before being able to say anything. '' I.... I killed them all... I didnt mean to.... '' I looked at my hands, stil covered in blood. '' I... murdered them... ''. The police looked for the murderer, but didnt find any evidence that it was me.
Since that day, I was scared to die by the hands of others. But I was scared to kill to. I dont want to see all the blood agian. I dont want to fall in reverse...

Theme:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68NBPWJEDAk / https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpmJh2CjSIA (Warning its screaming) 

Name: Deus Machievelion

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Magic: Water and Wind, can also use the wind to help him swing his sword faster than 40 hits per second

Skills: Can run up walls and stand on still water

Weapons: Rapier Sword and Chain Whip, Sometimes uses a small Flintlock Hand-cannon

Weakness: Hot temperatures

Strengths: Cold, windy rain storms

Fears: The unknown

Design: Blonde hair and Blue eyes. Wears a red coat, white baggy leg wear, brown leather boots. He stands about 5ft.11in.

Personality: Can get pretty arrogant in battle. Outside of battle he is pretty relaxed.

Backstory: underway

Art: SOON

Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytHjdArnPJQ&index=5&list=PLKUeULYwO6Mfjpafz0IgtEuIz3AQYxu9V

Name: Evelyn Sera
Age: Around 17
Gender: Female
Magic: She was born with the ablity to control her blood, though only if it has left her body, changing even it's state of matter (not setting up a pun here or anything). This allows her to use her blood as a weapon, turning it into needles among other things.
Weapons: She carries many daggers with her, hidden around her clothing.
Weaknesses: Over time, she began to associate pain with power to the point of enjoying it so she allows herself to be cut in excessive amounts which leads to the regular symptoms of blood loss. Also, blunt weapons and certain types of magic are highly effective on her as they don't release any blood for her to attack with.
Skills: She's mildly athletic and knows basic martial arts.
Fears: People in positions of power or acting surperior to her. If she notices someone is starting to act fatherly/motherly, she will push herself away from them and refuse to acknowledge them.
Appearance: She wears a wrinkled white blouse and black dress pants with black boots. She has straight shoulder length dark red hair. Average height.
Backstory: She comes from a harsh family with high standards. When she was about 16, she had a solo at an important band concert but her she lost grip on the bow of her violin and had to stop playing. When she arrived home, her parents were furious. They took her "punishment" to the next level resulting in her losing some blood. As she lay on the floor, her parents yelling at her, she noticed that some of her blood was floating in front of her. She realised she could control it and attempted to make it into a needle. She slowly stood up and faced her parents. she forced the needle towards her father's neck but failed just as it pricked his throat. Her parents, terrified, grabbed a frying pan and hit her in the back of the head as hard as possible, knocking her out. She awoke in the wasteland to find her head patched up and felt a prescense.

Name: Darren Greywater

Aliases: Darren the Mistwalker, The Thorn of Greywater

Age: 347, appears to be 25

Gender: Male (Vampire)

Magic: Illusionist; can alter people's perception of the situation at hand, as well as calming them to the point where they stop fighting, or enraging them to the point where they'll attack allies. He can also turn himself invisible.
          Vampiric Magic; can drain someones life force, and transfer that to himself, prolonging his ability to fight. He can also resurrect the dead to fight for him.

Skills: Walks silently. He can teleport short distances, but this tires him out quickly. He is also extremely charismatic, and easily makes allies, despite the fact he is a vampire.

Weapons: A small dagger, Serpent's Fang, that was made out of the tooth of a Basilisk, giving it the ability to poison whoever it stabs.
               A small Silver dagger, Void Piercer, that was used to kill the vampire that converted him. Has no special attributes, and is more of a reminder than a weapon.
               An Ebonwood bow, Lightbane, that fires Spectral arrows that not only travel through targets, allowing for one arrow to hit multiple people, but also gives the bow an infinite supply of arrows.

Weaknesses: The sun; this weakens his combat skills, but also takes away his ability to use his Vampiric magic until nightfall. This also makes him more vulnerable to traditional weapons.
                   Silver; specifically Silver weapons, as they are more effective against the Undead.

Strengths: The night; during the night, he has access to his Vampiric magic, and also a higher resistance to traditional weapons. This also helps play into his primary mode of attack, stealth.
               Charisma; he has the ability to make allies with almost anyone, and keep that allegiance alive due to him being loyal to his oaths.

Fears: Dragons and Jesters.

Design: Wears a simple grey tunic with black leather armor over it, as to help keep light and silent. He wears dark brown trousers, as well as padded black leather boots. He wears a black hood, but takes it off at night. He has Dark Brown, almost black hair, and has Purple eyes, with a scar along his left eye. He stands about 6ft, 1inches tall (1.85 meters).

Personality: He always remains calm, even in the most dire of situations. He takes time to analyse the situation at hand before making a move, and chooses to fight stealthily. He makes every attack count, and everything he does is with purpose. He is honest to a fault, and is loyal to the same degree. He isn't a murderer, but is seen as one simply because he is a Vampire.

Theme: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=06UKdLBqBGU

I was born in a small village, Greywater. It was built by my ancestors, and was named after the clear-grey shade of the water in the lake it was built next to. I guess our name just changed to the town name since we were the ones in charge. From my research on the subject, my family's last name was originally Yezvra, but it's not like that matters anymore. We became Greywater, and we were in charge of the village. People didn't really look at us as if we had power. They would just look to us for guidance, and we would provide it. We were always helpful, and I guess that's where my general niceness and helpfulness comes from. Anyways, in our village, everyone knew everyone, and we all got along. We had to. We lived at the very edge of the Province, so the king's influence hardly reached us, unless in a time of war, of course, but that was rare. I had a friend, Ayla, and we would spend so much time together playing at the lake and exploring the nearby caves. We were the best of friends. She was special to me. She was different. Most people saw my eyes as a curse of bad things to come, but she never listened to them. She believed that my eyes were a sign I had good to do in this world. I believed her. I still do. Unfortunately, she isn't around anymore to keep me going. Just her spirit and the memories of the past. When we were 17, and this was exactly 27 days before my birthday, a stranger came through our village. This caught everyone's attention, since we were really far out of the way for travelers to take leave or even pass through. Everyone was accepting of this new traveler, as was I. My family even let him rest in our house. The first three days of his visit, everything was alright. We showed him around the nearby landmarks and even some ruins, and he showed us some new metal working techniques and introduced the potato to our farms. The fourth day, though...the fourth day was the end of my life.

I woke up in the middle of the night to him biting my neck. I screamed out, and shoved him off of me. He fell backwards, and I took this opportunity to grab my dagger from under my bed. He had gotten up, and swiped at me with his nails. He managed to land the blow and cut my left eye. I, again, shoved him away, and he fell over. I then ran over to him and pierced his chest with the dagger. His eyes quickly open wide, and he glanced down to where I stabbed him. I could see the life slowly drain from his eyes. He began to lash back at me, but the wound was too much for his body, and he slumped over, dead. I backed away, frightened and traumatized. I reached up to my neck and placed my palm on the bite I'd received. I pulled my hand away, and it was covered in blood, but I felt no pain. I reached down to the corpse of my attacker, and pulled the dagger out of his chest. I grabbed a nearby cloth, and went to clean off the blade. In my haste to clean the blade, I knicked my finger, and it burned. I felt like my hand was on fire. I screamed out slightly, as would be expected quickly stuck my finger in my mouth to help stop the bleeding. The moment my finger reached my mouth, I was revolted. It didn't taste the same as the many other times I'd cut my fingers. It tasted atrocious. I spit up any blood that was in my mouth, and gagged on the taste. Then I remembered the bite on my neck, so I took the cloth I'd cleaned my dagger with, and wrapped it around my neck. It stung a little, as expected, but it wasn't a normal sting. It was something else. I didn't have time to think about the strange sting. I had to tell my parents what had happened, so I got up and proceeded towards my parent's room. Upon leaving my own room, however, I saw a horrifying sight. My parents, lying on the floor, covered in blood with bite marks on their necks. I didn't know what to think. What to do. I collapsed to my knees, and just sat there in disbelief for a moment before I began to cry. The tears just flowed out. I couldn't hold them back, no matter how much effort I put into trying. I just sat there. Crying. I don't know how long I was sitting there before I began coming to my senses. I couldn't think of anything else to do. I stumbled out of my door and ran to Alya and my cave. I sat there in the darkness for hours before I saw a hint of light farther up in the tunnel. I feared the worst, that they were coming to kill me. To my suprise, it was Ayla.
I could hear her voice. She was whispering, "Dare, please tell me you're here. They're looking for you, Darren. God, please be here Dare." I could hear the worry in her voice. She sounded like she was on the brink of tears. I stood up from where I was sitting and dashed towards her.
"Ayla," I cried, tears still in my eyes. She looked towards me, and I could faintly make out an expression of worry and concern, but she had the faintest of smiles on her face when she saw me. I ran up to her, and the moment I reached her, I hugged her. She seemed taken back, unsure of what to do. After a moment, she returned the hug. She began to talk to me, her voice as soft as ever.
"Dare, what happened?"
"That man, he...he..." I couldn't finish the sentence. The tears began to flow more.
"Shh. Shh..." she whispered reassuringly. "It's okay, Darren. I'm here for you now."
"Thank you Ayla..." I managed to whimper.
"You don't need to thank me," she reassured, "just spending time with you is enough thanks."
"I...I've always wanted to tell you-" I began, but she cut me off, saying, "no, you don't need to say anything." I nodded. She finally let me go, as did I her, and we started to leave the cave in silence. We stepped out into the morning sunlight, and I became instantly fatigued. I started to stumble, but Ayla caught me.
"Th-thanks..." I whispered. She nodded, and we started walking. We were walking without any direction. After about three minutes, I looked over at her.
"Hey Ayla?" I said softly.
"Yeah, Dare?"
"I just wanted to say that-" but before the words could get out, we heard someone yell.
"There they are!"
"Well, loose it then!"
Ayla looked over at me, as did I her. I could see the worry in her eyes. I heard a wooshing sound, and then heard the sound of an arrow piercing flesh. Ayla gasped for air. She began to fall over.
"Ayla? Ayla, no!" I gasped. I was holding her up with as much strength as I could muster.
"Don't worry Ayla, you'll be alright," I cried, tears welling up. She looked at me, and the light was leaving her eyes.
"Darren," she whispered, her voice soft and faint. She paused, and with her final breath, she said , "I love you..." Then, she was gone. Her body went limp. I fell to the ground, unable to run from our attackers.
"Knock another arrow!" I heard yelled in the distance. I looked up, and I could see two of the hunters from my village standing there, but the bow one had wasn't aimed at a deer. It was aimed at us. Suddenly, another arrow was shot towards us, but it flew narrowly over my head. I stumbled up, Ayla in my arms, turned around, and started running. I ran and ran, Ayla in my arms, and hunters pursuing me for miles. They fired more arrows at me in the chace, and I took one to the right shoulder. Eventually, I lost them, though. I then spent time burying Ayla. Ever since then, I've been traveling around anywhere I can. I learnt I was a vampire once the hungers started, and that helped explain everything I felt that day besides grief and sorrow. I never even got to tell Ayla I loved her...

Greywater isn't my home anymore. No where is. I'm vilified everywhere I go, all thanks to the people I used to consider as my friends. The people of Greywater began spreading a rumor of me, that I was a vampire, and that I was the one who killed my parents and Ayla. It took awhile to spread, almost two months, but once it did, there was no where I could go. The Royal Guard attacked me on sight, and citizens run the moment they realize who I am. The Thorn of Greywater. That's what they'd call me. Nothing bad had ever come from Greywater, except for me. They were a Rose, all pretty and innocent, and me? I was the Thorn. I didn't even do anything, yet I was the one they blamed. I only killed my attacker, and I'm the bad guy. It's frustrating, living a life like this. I didn't choose this life. I didn't want to be this way, but here I am, still alive and still a vampire. I came close to dying, but I can't just let myself wither away while I still have Ayla's belief in me. That my eyes are a sign of the good I can do. I can't let that belief die with her. I can't...

I tried my hardest to not kill for blood, but the hunger gets to be too much, and you lose control. Your animalistic instincts of survival take over, and you go berserk. I...I killed a whole town. Slayed every man, woman, and child. I didn't want to, but I couldn't control myself. My body's need for survival overthrew my mind's need of humility. I regret that every day of my life...not a day goes by that I don't. Maybe the town was right. Maybe my eyes are a curse, but Ayla can't have died in vain. I can't let that happen. I will find the good purpose I have in this abomination of a world. For Ayla. I visit where I buried her every week. I sit there, staring at the grave, and I think maybe I should have been the one that got hit with that arrow. Maybe my life should have been the one to fade away. I cry at that grave. I can't help it. The thoughts of what happened and what could have been are too much for my mind to undergo. Sometimes, I think of what might have happened if we were both alive. If we were both here. But I...I can't. I don't know how I've made it this far in life with these burdens I carry. All the murder I've committed unintentionally. All the grief I've caused. It's...I just can't...

...not everything is bad though. I am stronger now, and I have a knack for stealth. My footsteps make no noise at all, and I can turn invisible. It's weird, the way it works. I discovered it on accident when I was thinking I felt like I didn't need to exist. It just kinda happened. I assume it's an inherent vampire ability, and is triggered by thoughts of...well, invisibility or non-existence. I also found I can drain people "life force," which I assume to mean their energy and vitality, but it's cool nonetheless. I try not to use it that much, but I can also teleport short distances, which just is mind boggling to me, the fact that I can do it. It's especially useful in tandem with my invisibility. So useful, in fact, I used those tactics to kill a Basilisk.

I was at Ayla's grave, mourning her, when I heard something behind me. Naturally, I was expecting a vampire hunter, since they had a bounty out for me, but that's not what I saw. Behind me, coming out of a nearby cave, was this behemoth of a snake. A Basilisk, as I learned later. I was taken back, in complete shock at the sight, but not out of fear. The beast didn't pay any attention to me. How lucky I was it didn't, since a Basilisk's gaze petrifies any who see it, according to my research. It slithered off, towards what I believe was an old castle. It didn't have any inhabitants, but was a common place for explorers to, well, explore, so I was confused, yet intrigued. However, I thought it best to not give chase. I waited until it returned, and slithered back into its cave. I followed it, keeping a relatively safe distance from it, but I wasn't worried about being heard. After a few winding tunnels, it came out in this large room, filled with luminous moss. It looked to be an old, underground city of sorts, but it had clearly caved in awhile ago, and only some ruined structures remained. The beast curled up like a snake would, and I took this opportunity to kill it, as I assumed this beast had been causing trouble for nearby towns and travellers on the roads. I slowly started to sneak up on the serpent, and unsheathed my dagger, which I had named Void Piercer, and was preparing to kill the beast. I was standing right next to its head. I lifted my dagger, and plunged it hard into it's skull. It jolted awake, and screeched out. I was taken back, suprised it hadn't been killed. Then, suddenly, I was struck in the side of the head. I was sent tumbling into the cave wall, head first. I was stunned for a moment, but quickly got up, too worried for my safety to stay down. I started running at the beast, who was too busy trying to get the dagger out of its head to worry about me, when I tripped, landing next to a puddle. I saw, in the puddles reflection, the Basilisk, looking, I assume, right at me. Then, I saw its tail rise up, preparing to slam it on me. I quickly vanished, but that didn't stop the Basilisk. Its tail came hurtling towards me. I hastily teleported, hoping it would give me enough distance from the beast to determine the best next step. Luckily, it did, and upon the tail hitting the ground, a small tremor ensued. This tremor knocked loose some of the stalagtites on the ceiling loose. They began to fall to the ground, some of which pierced the Basilisk. I saw this as my opportunity, and as it screeched in pain, I dashed forward. I hopped onto its back, quickly climbed up to its head, and took hold of my dagger before it even knew what was happening. It began to realize what I was doing, so I had to act fast. I harshly pulled on the dagger, and got it dislodged from its skull. The Basilisk shifted around a little, but it wasn't enough to get me off. I quickly brought the dagger down, right where I first stabbed it, and it managed to get deep enough to be the killing blow. The Basilisk screeched out, and fell to the floor, throwing me from it, dagger in hand.

I landed on the cold floor of the cave, silence finally filling the air. I slowly stood up, groaning from the fall. I dusted myself off, and approached the corpse of the beast. It was dead, mouth open, like it was still in mid-scream. I noticed its fangs, and how sharp they were. I leaned into the maw of the beast, and began digging at the gums and roots of the fang that looked about the right size for me. Eventually, the roots gave, and the fang fell out of place. I picked it up, and took a few test swings with it, just to see if I liked it, and I did. I felt good about what I had done, but I don't think I should have. At least, not at the time. I did then go to the nearby castle, and found that the Basilisk had been petrifying explorers and saving their bodies for food, so I felt as if my deed was needed. I had just saved countless lives from this demise others were too unfortunate to receive. I got a cool, new dagger out of it, too, so that's a plus as well. I had never felt like I had done a good deed until that day. It was a good feeling. One I wanted to feel again.

NAME: Morgan the Puppeteer
AGE: Unknown, appears to be 25.
GENDER: Male (Doll)
HEIGHT: 1.72m
PERSONALITY: Very much a philosopher, often talking and thinking about the complexities of life--or lack thereof. Always calm and has no sense of personal space. Can be irked by rationale giving way to ignorance or stupidity. But despite his professed philosophy of reason, refuses to accept anything to the contrary of his beliefs
MAGIC:  Possession. He can inhabit the body of any inanimate—or rather soulless—form at the temporary cost of controlling his own body. Anything ranging from machines, animals, and the undead is up for grabs. People can be vessels as well, but only if in possession of a weak spirit or incapacitated.
WEAPONS: Marionette wires that extend from his fingertips capable of creating razor sharp webs, binding people, or garroting. And various sewing needles more aptly termed as nails, primarily for throws and stabs.
WEAKNESS: Loss of vessel. Without a body for his soul to cling onto, he will fade.
TRIVIA: Ironically likes hand puppets more than dolls; and quite charismatic in a hypnotic way due to his unique speech pattern. Keeps a glass orb with him at all times. Often seen pulling a wagon along.
SKILLS: Jury rigging, the art of fixing everything with anything (comes from having to maintain one’s self). Insomnia, can and has gone nine months without sleeping, not that he needs it.
FEARS: Darkness, anything reminiscent of the void.
DESIGN: White coat, brown hat with crimson feather, and tan pants covering his porcelain skin. Has a black mark in shape of a fleur de lis below his right eye.

Sprite:

THEME: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyDdUgfLqfE

BACKSTORY: I awoke many years past to the sight of a kindly old woman, though her smile faded soon as I asked what seemed reasonable enough. “Who am I?” She had been expecting something else—or rather someone else. A doctor, as I recall, though his name escapes me. We share the same face, this doctor and I, but she kept saying otherwise. Something about my eyes, were wrong. Even so, we were close for a time, like mother and son. Or perhaps nurse and patient would be a better comparison, for we created many others following my awakening. Our creations also shared my face, but none ever woke up. Apparently I was special.

It didn’t take long for mother to grow tired of me though. But I didn’t blame her. Why keep company with a thief? For that’s what I was, someone who had taken the body and face of another. I can only hope she didn’t blame me either, for killing her. Humans it seems have simple needs. Food, shelter, family; all things to keep themselves alive. I have that, too. This desire to live, but not for petty things like comfort or happiness. No, I have something that elevates me above all. Purpose.

You see, my mother taught me something way back when. After all these years, I’ve yet to see anything prove her wrong. Humans believe this world they were born into was made to save them. Even as I tightened the wire around her throat she thought, as any person would, that this can’t be happening. Mother didn’t have to say it, though I doubt she could have. But her eyes, her eyes told me plenty. Fear, anger, misery swirled within. But still, there was hope. Hope that my hands would slip, hope someone would find her. Mother knew she could never die this way. Up until her last breath she knew it. But what of me? Can I not share in this entitlement, that our lives matter? No. Because I am not real. I can think, am sentient: the hallmark of worth and life. Yet still. Just. A doll.

So I thought to myself, why should humans get this privilege—why do they deserve life, memory? They don’t. But don’t think of me as some arbiter casting judgement from an impartial throne, I never made this decision myself. They did. Humans. Every being in our world believes their precious life is of import, yet still they slaughter each other like—well, like I do. Even worse, some willingly give up their own lives. Suicide, I hear it’s called. But their killings aren’t even for survival half the time. Trivial matters like religion, loyalty, morals, even just fun. Here is where my part comes in. If these hypocrites believe they can decide who lives and dies then ignore even their own rulings, clearly this entitlement of theirs is delusional. But I’m not, delusional. I can see what humans never will, what their eyes refuse to see even as it dangles upon a noose right in front of them. Life is short. So humans best make their mark on the world, because my life is short too—just not as much as theirs.

Name: Lucas Lupus
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Height: 174 cm (5'7)
Personality: Honourable, Likes to joke around not being serious at all.
Design: Lucas has part of his hair silver and parts black, blue/green eyes and wears a purple checkered jacket. With blue jeans, and purple runner shoes. He also has a scar on his right eye, neck and arm. And he has a wolf tattoe on his left arm.
Weapons: He dual weilds daggers and has 2 brass knuckles with knife things on the sides.
Magic: Shape-shifting. He can shape shift into a wolf. Ice. he can basicly control ice, making huge spikes of it or something like that. He can also lower the temparature of water so it turns to ice and lowering his own body temparature.
Skills: When he shifted into a wolf, he can run speeds over 60 km per hour, he can keep this up for about an hour to. When human he runs slower and gets tired faster, but he is still quicker then the avarage human. He also good hearing and great vision, in both forms. And he can jump pretty high.
Weakness: Being shot with a gun.
Fears: Losing loved ones, hights, spiders and stuff in the dark.
Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zoL5c2Pe1s (Ill warn you agian, Screamz but this song is just awesome!)
Backstory: coming