[CHAR] *✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Name:
Age: (21+ is preferable)
Gender:
Species:

Magic specialties: (If applicable)

Personality:

Appearance:

History:

[ThisIsFine]

Name: Ismael Alire
Age: 329
Gender: Male
Species: Familiar

Magic specialties:
Shape-shifting, specifically into the forms of a raven, a wolf, a horse, and a cat. All four of his animals forms have the same signature black fur with a reddish gleam in the sunlight.

Ismael is a familiar: a witch's best friend. A familiar's main purpose is to serve their witch, or in Ismael's case, his coven. Whether that means protecting them, fighting for them, or even dying for them, so be it. He was once bound to follow the orders of all original coven members, but seeing as those are hard to come by, he's mostly free. Mostly...

A familiar can live forever, so long as they have a witch to serve. They need the magic of a witch or warlock to survive, and without it, they will die fairly quickly. Ismael has a little magic of his own and can use simple spells to do things such as unlock doors, singe an attacker, or create a light with his finger tips.

Personality:
Ismael is usually quiet, soft spoken, and thoughtful. He has a dry sense of humor and a penchant for being sassy.

Loyalty is one of Ismael's best attributes. Once he's decided that you're a friend, he's with you to the bitter end. At the same time, if he thinks of you as an enemy, he'll likely hold that grudge for the rest of his life. He's a good, hard worker, intelligent, and observant. His soul purpose is to serve the Rosenthal coven, and he does so very well. For centuries, he has given them his loyalty. As long as he's treated kindly and respectfully, he'll give it for centuries more.

Appearance:
Ismael stands at 5'9", with a lean muscle build and dark tan skin. His reddish, dark brown hair is worn in an undercut and wavy. His eyes are a very dark brown, and resemble something of a sad hound dog's. He is a handsome man, and he could surely woo another woman if he so wanted to. Instead, he spends most of his time lurking about the mansion and forcing smiles at any who look his way.

History:
The creation of a familiar varies. Some are totems brought to life, others are enchanted animals, Ismael was once a human man. He was a simple sailor, hailing from Spain. On an exploration trip of the Americas, he came across a mysterious woman by the name of Agatha Rosenthal, the witch who founded the coven. He was immediately taken by her beauty and charm. Ismael left his exploration party to find out more about her.

A love story blossomed from there. Agatha was a very powerful witch, as one would have to be to create a familiar. She was near immortal for her power and magic. Unfortunately, Ismael was not. To fix that, she transformed him into her loyal familiar, who could live as long as he had a witch to serve. For decades, they were inseparable. However, witch hunters eventually caught up to them. By this time, the coven's numbers had grown strong. Before she was put to death, Agatha gave Ismael to the coven to be a general familiar for everyone in it, so that he would survive as long as the coven still existed. However, ever since his true mistress died, Ismael has always had a tone of melancholy to him.

Ismael has since spent his immortal life looking after and protecting the coven. He has helped raise just about every witch in it, and their parents, and their grandparents.

[ThisIsFine]

Name: Ceobes Valcun
Age: 401
Gender: Male
Species: Witch

Magic specialties:
Ceobes has long since reached the level of power a witch must exceed to successfully remain ageless. He is and has always been a very gifted witch. He has practiced in potions and salves, but they aren't particularly his forté. His true passions are spells and enchantments, hexes and curses, the arcane and intangible. From shape shifting to levitating to weaving intricate incantations, Ceobes loves magic. Before leaving the coven, he seemed to have been picking up on some particularly dark magic.

Personality:
Ceobes is pleasant and charming. He has an air of elegance and grace to him, as if he could never be caught doing anything less than perfect. Ceobes isn't perfect, of course. A perfectionist, maybe, but far from perfect. Rumors of his lust for power have died with the elders, but there is one remaining patron of the coven who remembers why Ceobes left. He was seeking out dangerous knowledge, both to himself and others. It was said that he was either sent away or left on his own accord to do some soul searching, perhaps to figure out where this need for power was coming from. Since his abrupt return, he seems to have everything more or less sorted out.

Appearance:
He is slender and tall. Ceobes stands at 6'1", and his physical prowess is definitely not his defining feature. He is pale skinned and dark haired. His hair, a dark, almost blue, black, is worn long and braided in the back, short on the sides. His eyes are a dark wine and intelligent. Ceobes prefers black clothing almost exclusively, and wears only long sleeves and dark gloves at all times.

History:
He crossed the seas with his original coven members, and settled in the new world among them. Young Ceobes was eager for knowledge. He had never been particularly strong; his intelligence was where he drew strength. Through the hard winters and the famine that plagued the settlers, he persevered. He had a strong support system back then: Two older sisters, a loving mother, and a hard working father. That changed one particularly brutal winter when food was low and even magic couldn't keep the sickness away.

Ceobes lost his father and middle sister. After the tragedy in the family, he distracted himself with his studies. Some part of him blamed his family, himself included, for not being able to save them. They were witches, after all! They shouldn't fall to the illness of mere men.

He became more powerful over the years, but not enough to stop the next misfortune to befall his family and coven. The hunts. The witch hunters were relentless. They blamed magic for all their woes; convinced that they had been cursed by the witches. Ceobes was busy helping other coven patrons keep up during a particularly vicious attack when his mother and sister were caught. Just like before, he couldn't save them.

Ceobes's mourning manifested into obsession with power. He had to be strong enough to stop the next attack, to fix the next illness, to save what family he had left. This is what drove him for years, until he finally crossed the wrong line. The elders found out that he'd been studying dark magic from awful books that their coven strictly forbid. This lead to a stern talking to, which lead to Ceobes departing on his personal journey.

That was the last the coven had heard from or seen him. Until just a week ago.

[CleverUsername]

Mira Andrul

Age: 26
Gender: Female
Species: Human

Magic specialties: None

Personality:
A bright smile and cheerful demeanor are Mira's trademarks! Anyone who's met her knows her as a charming young woman always open to meeting new people. Given the kind of company she keeps, however, many people wonder if her dazzling smile is not, in fact, a well-practiced theatric meant to hide her true self. She tends to approach danger with an even more dangerous lackadaisical attitude. Some claim her mind is under a curse of sorts, while others believe she's just a bit nuts. Regardless, she can always be counted on to make those around her smile.

Though she has no magic of her own, her loyalty to the coven runs deep, and she often takes advantage of her humanity to move where the witches can't.

Appearance:
Mira stands at just under 5' tall, a short and slender frame with a thin build of muscle beneath the surface. Her bright red hair - often tied back - and glimmering brown eyes frame a cutely rounded face. Her outfits range from comfy to classy, and no one recalls ever seeing her in the same clothes twice. Except at home, that is, where she's always in fluffy pajamas. And yes, her body does boast pleasing curves, but she sees them far more as a means to an end than anything to flaunt.

History:
The Andruls were, in ages long past, some of the most powerful witches in the world. Alas, as with all witches, the family was gradually hunted down and forced into hiding. Over time, the blood and power were whittled down, until at last, Mira was born: the first generation without any affinity for magic. Though her parents dutifully raised her to be a clever and capable girl, it was clear they were unhappy to have no one to pass down their knowledge to. Mira worked hard to make them see her value, even without magic.

Without magic, Mira was not allowed to join the coven. However, that didn't stop her from sneaking out to spy on them from the shadows. She even got away with it a few times! But not for long. When she was discovered, however, she determinately insisted that she wanted to help out, even if she couldn't use any magic herself. After some deliberation, it was decided that she could join the coven... as an outside ally. It was enough for her.

Since then, Mira has done all she can to aid the coven, from running errands to gathering intel. Though she has some martial arts training, she's not a fighter by any means, preferring to solve her problems with a quick mind and clever tongue.

[NoriWasHere]

CS

Name:

Clara Jay



Age:
25
Gender:
Female
Species:
Witch

Magic specialties:

Clara is a Floramancer. As a child of the coven, she spent her formative years with a book in hand and has developed into a capable witch. She spends her days tending to the gardens of 'thirteen herbs and spices, fighting off blights of both magical and mundane means. Her goal is to keep the coven supplied with magic ingredients and increase their potency. As time has gone on, and as her spells grew stronger, Clara sought to branch out her repetiteur. She sought something that would differentiate herself from the Floramancers in her lineage. She found what she was looking for in an unlikely place, under the soil.

When someone thinks of a mushroom, they often think of the fruit above the ground or on its food, and they never think of the possibly massive, interconnected network underneath. Regardless if the mycelium is a small colony or one that covers acres, Clara has learned how to control them all the same. She can cause already existing mycelium to sprout their flowers, release their spores, and saturate an area in pollen. Clara wouldn't be a good Floramancer if it stopped there. The fruit that she can cause to bud, and their spores, are often enhanced with many a malady.

She can also create new mycelium through already existing plant matter. While it is not as strong as the naturally made variety, it can help in a pinch if she is in need inside the concrete jungle.

Personality:

As a child of the coven, and one raised in an environment where many come and go, Clara has issues with both codependency and trust. She will rarely reveal much about herself or her interests to those not well known to her, and she will not take much interest in getting to know a newcomer or a lesser-known acquaintance.

It is only after someone breaks down her walls do they realize the mistake they made. Clara becomes much more involved in making sure that those she cares about are taken care of, whether with a potent potion or with a plethora of compliments and kind gestures. This can come off as quite overbearing, yet it comes from a place of love. However, the worst is the constant barrage of nicknames that Clara unleashes to those she cares about.

Clara is plagued by a constant need for outside validation, assurance, and emotional support. She also has a persistent and undying feeling that everything and everyone she loves will eventually abandon her. As such, she much prefers time spent with her plants than with people.

Appearance:

Clara stands at the height of 5'5". In the coven she tends to dress plain. A simple black hoodie sits over the top of a simple pair of jeans that rests on some simple black boots. This all covers the lithe and almost frail frame she boasts. Her hair, in contrast, is almost constantly an amalgamation of various colors that is styled professionally. She sports multiple piercings and a few tattoos, yet most of the latter hides beneath her sleeves.

History:

Clara grew up within the confines of the mansion. She spent her early years being raised by Ismael. As she grew, her education began to focus on her family's latent skills with Floramancy. She quickly sprouted as an adept student, and her roots grew deep in the art. As she got more skilled, she was tasked with more tasks in maintaining the many magical gardens. She did not travel much outside the coven as she was growing up. While part of her yearned for a cozy cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature on all sides, she could never bring herself to ask.

As she developed into her adult self, she found herself finally in the right head place to go on expeditions into nature. While she feels more potent in the forests, where the many miles of mycelium below alert her to all that is around, she can not leave the coven entirely. She feels a debt to both Ismael and the elders who helped raise her, and she plans to pay it back as best as possible before she finally leaves. As such, Clara has been one of the primary caretakers of the gardens and is developing into a potent potion maker.

[psych0pomp]

Sterling VanCise

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖

Stijn "Sterling" VanCise

𝔸𝕘𝕖

101

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Male

𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕤

Witch

𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤

𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓰𝔂 - Back in the old country, they didn't call it such a delicate name. It was called "flesh stitching." And despite its name, that was exactly what it was. More precisely, Sterling has the ability to perform surgery with his bare hands. He mostly uses it to heal the wounded, graft flesh, or tend to organs, but it can be used as a weapon as well. Unfortunately, he has to be able to use his hands—his fingers more accurately—to wield the ability. Meaning that if someone has decided to come after Sterling, they've decided to come after his hands.
𝓐𝓵𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶𝔂 - A more common art of magic, he was taught from a young age what herbs to mix with what to get what one wanted. Not interested in transmuting iron to gold, he uses it more to help facilitate his other healing abilities. Something to numb the pain, something to bring back appetite, something to stop the infection, and sometimes more cosmetic ones for the rough state that his chirurgy leaves the skin.
𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓬𝔂 - Sterling uses the cards that once belonged to his mother, an old Polish tarot deck. He's not good at divining any fate other than misfortune—which has been unfortunately useful in his life.

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪

The bags under his eyes aren't there just for decor, they're where he carries his sour mood. Sardonic and indifferent are the two words that could easily describe him. He's quick to dismiss and scoff at things that aren't any of his concern. When asked for his advice—why would do that, honestly—he'll spit the most obvious thing from his lips. It doesn't matter if it's insulting. It's the truth, laced with all the vinegar of borscht and just as pretty, too. It's not as if Sterling is beyond compassion, it's just piled underneath flake layers of dried molten that used to pour from a wellspring of his warmth. Now he only gives it to those that he views as worthy of his compassion. And "worthy" is an odd way to put it. It isn't quantitated based on personal wealth, status, or otherwise. There's a different equation there. One that many people have tried to figure out, only to be let down.

𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

He used to be a very attractive man. Sun-kissed blond hair, pale green eyes, and a svelte form that could have been on the front page of any magazine. But his power had its price, and that coupled with the stress of keeping himself financially afloat has taken its toll.

Standing at 6'3", Sterling can fill the place of your door in the frame. If his skin has seen a lick of sun, you wouldn't be able to tell. Distilled green irises are vibrant against his almost gray sclera—a haunting change from its once leafy green set against a pale cloud. An aquiline nose slopes into full lips. He has a crooked smile but it hides a straight row of white teeth. His blond hair is a messy pile on top of his head. It's odd because he takes the time to get it shortened on the sides and layered on the top. Then he does nothing with it. He wears thick tortoiseshell glasses, though it's hard to say why as his sight doesn't seem bad—and if it was, he's since corrected it. Maybe it's to bring a pop of color to his haunting eyes. A strong chin, once seemingly carved from marble, is soft around the edges.

That leads down to broad shoulders, muscular arms covered in arcane tattoos, and down to large hands with agile digits. He's barrel-chested, and a threat to all his button-up shirts, with a gut where his once Adonis-like abs were adorned. He has long legs usually clad in some form of dress pants. Never assume you'll see him in jeans or—heaven forbid—shorts. He's always dressed like he's going to a funeral or the world's most macabre date. Sterling slouches more than he should, having grown accustomed to ramming his head into every cabinet door. He's unassuming until you get a closer look and see that he's a piece of art barely held together with a heaping of plaster and paint.

ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

The son of a Polish witch and a Dutch gambler—not his true profession, but it's the one that had the most impact on Sterling's life. He spent most of his formative years in Poland, not able to travel to the Netherlands for some reason his father never fully explained. His mother was the matriarch of the house and everything within it was to her liking. She wasn't a cruel woman, but she didn't have any maternal instincts. Sterling may have taken to vodka at too young an age. What the young boy did remember was that his mother would sit him in front of a piano, with a needle and thread, or with bread dough. He'd have to practice small, minute movements for hours on end. Sometimes she'd disappear when someone would enter their home—passing the dried herbs that hung like chandeliers from the ceiling. Screaming would commence, but the person would leave thanking his mother for the torture that they endured. He didn't understand it until he was older. This was a good pain. And that his life would be filled with the bad kind.

They had to move to the US suddenly and without being able to take much beyond a few of his mother's books and his father's watches. Suddenly, Sterling had to acclimate to a new culture and language. He was also to keep quiet on the legality of them being there. His mother was devastated at the loss of occult knowledge and artifacts from their quick escape. It was something that she never forgave Sterling's father for, and no sooner had they arrived than they relocated—just him and his mother this time. She soon went about teaching him the ways of the "flesh stitchers." That along with the potion magic that she always seemed to be brewing. Her kitchen was a test of whether or not one could tell the difference between a pig-blood potion and a beet stew. Sterling was wrong more than he was right.

Though he was able to receive a proper education, anything higher than public schooling couldn't be achieved by legal status. Around that time WWII had started. They had been lucky to get out of Poland on a lark, instead of being dragged into the theater of war. Unfortunately, during that time he lost many friends and a few that he'd classify as more than that, but not in a public setting. He and his mother's little kitchen clinic drummed a lot of business up around that time. That was until his mom contracted tuberculosis and passed. Without legality on their side, and his mother having paid cash for everything, Sterling couldn't keep their house. He instead headed out, having to move in with his father at that time.

The city was not quite what he expected it to be. His father was mostly absentee but had a cash flow that was scary in its amount and irregularity. So, Sterling used it to take a break from the macabre of his family's witchy practices. A few years later the war ended, and the soldiers came home. Around that time, Sterling's father failed to come home himself. A few more nights passed before his door was beaten down by a local gang that his father owed a lot of money to. They were lenient on Sterling—as in they didn't kill him outright—and put him to work as a gopher. During one fateful night and one bad gig went wrong, Sterling saved a very rich man's daughter that they'd been extorting money from by using his magic. Of course, Sterling just made it look like he was quick with the first aid, but the daughter knew better. Realizing Sterling's "medical" aptitude would be useful, the criminal organization put him to use as their own personal physician, and realizing she owed him his life, Hester Montgomery made it a point to schedule him into hers regularly. That, of course, turned into a whirlwind romance.

The fine minutiae of that time would be lost to faulty memories and too much alcohol. But there came a time when Sterling had worked off his father's debt and thought about proposing to Hester. Of course, like any good Romeo and Juliet love story, it had to end in tragedy. Fortunately, it was not the bloody kind. Instead, she became engaged to the eldest son of an equally wealthy family and Sterling never saw her again. Not knowing what to do, he did what he knew best—he became a back-alley doctor. There he was found out by the Rosenthal Coven and joined them with the understanding that his business was to use subterfuge to keep the witch hunters at bay.

Years would pass, Sterling would age—but not really. He'd use the mastery of his own power to retain some form of youth. He'd have a few more dalliances, but them along with his life experiences would begin to dwindle. That would be until he learned about one Valentine Montgomery-Hunter, the grandchild of his and Hester's secret love. Val had suddenly exhibited something close to magic, and she'd been given an address from her late great-grandmother's belongings. As if things couldn't be worse, he now had a teenager living with him.

[Inertia]

Mark Crowe

Age: 23
Gender: Male
Species: Witch

Magic specialties:
The Crowe family are strict traditionalist who lean and specialize in Theurgy and Divination. As such, Mark is well versed in these forms of magic- being trained from birth. However, his preferred focus lie in the more self-reliant magics, as he has a marked distaste for magic that requires 'permission' from higher deities. Magic that require in-depth research and studies, like Spellcasting and Potion Making, are his preference. Recently, he's been dipping in toes in creation of an odd, new form of magic- one where he can 're-program' objects and similar, but it is a work-in-progress.

Personality:
Mark is an independent sort. His familial traditions of over-reliance on Theurgy and Divination magic have drilled into him a sense of free and maverick way of thinking. The very idea of begging and kneeling to a higher deity whose whims may change disgusted him. He openly criticizes his family's modus operandi, and seeks to move his family's reliance on deific magics to more self-reliant magic.

Due to his independence he is very motivated and driven. He often disappear for days, burying himself in his research and books to improve himself and his magic. Mark is more in tune with the 'newer generation', having little to no troubles acclimating and adapting to newer technologies and advancements. He is even able to program, giving him an idea for, what he calls '21st century magic'.

Mark is usually soft-spoken and appears deathly calm. He enjoys having the odd conversation or two on debates about magic and its applications with fellow Coven members. His loyalty to his family and fellow coven members is absolute and he seeks to improve each and every witches' lives if he can help it. He also has a bit of a dry sarcastic streak.

Appearance:
Mark stands at 5'9" tall, sporting a slender and muscular frame. He believes that a healthy mind lives in a healthy and fit body- as such he frequents the gym and keeps himself in shape. His eyes are a deepset, dull amber that seems to pierce right through you. Living up to his family's namesake, his hair resembles a crow-like black which contrasts against his naturally pale skin. He usually keeps it in a lazy side-swept style.

He seems to have a preference towards white and comfortable clothing- particularly having a liking towards turtlenecks.

History:
The Crowe family are a long-standing family of witches. They were there during the original founding of the Rosenthal Coven and have been members until present day. Their focus is on Divination and Theurgy. Their most recent son, Mark, showed an unapologetic distaste for their family's focus. He knew of their bloodied history of Witch Hunters. Causing him to believe Divination and Theurgy to be a fool's tale.

While still, very reluctantly, learning of his family's forte, he also begun to learn Spellcasting and Potion Making when he turned thirteen. And recently has begun his work on 'newer' magic. All in an effort of being able to do 'something' for his family when, not if, the hunters come knocking.