Canidae

The Sanctuary - Fantasy RolePlay

@ReveTheDreamer I would prefer to start at the Sanctuary/going to the Sanctuary.

Highschoolers, Fight on!

@OliveYou Not to sound pushy or anything, but do you think you can post about orientation partners soon? I know @QueenNugget and a few others were wondering about that. It's fine if you're still working things out or would like the plot to progress a bit more before that point.

The Sanctuary - Fantasy RolePlay

Bump!

Highschoolers, Fight on!

Fillan didn't even see the kid before Kludd wheeled around and grabbed the perpetrator's wrist and threw him to the ground. He looked at the boy with a combination of pity and caution, but said nothing. The boy glared needles at Kludd before bolting off, racing out of the room. Fillan was going to ask Kludd what happened, he wasn't sure what the boy had tried to pull but it was obvious Kludd wasn't pleased. Before he could ask though, Kludd had told him to stay there and that he was going to back. Where does he think I'm going to go?
Fillan quietly sighed before turning to his packet. He was on the last problem by now.

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

986

Highschoolers, Fight on!

Fillan nodded slowly as Kludd spoke, but he wasn't really registering what he was saying. Right now, he was preoccupied with his math problems, especially problem #36. It was a word problem and he was scanning the small paragraph on his sheet for any clues as to what he was supposed to do for this problem. A lightbulb went off in his head and he lifted his pencil when he heard someone shout.

Fillan glanced up from his paper to see a cookie rolling on the floor, where it settled there. One of the girls had a furious expression on her face and she was pointing, he realized, at all the male students at the room, including him and Kludd. Things were looking really tense between the girl and the guy with long hair who had arrived several minutes ago. Afraid that a fight was going to break out, he tugged Kludd's sleeve,
"Do you um, think the headmistress is um, going to do anything about this? I um, hope things don't get out of control here..."

He trailed off as he noticed behind him, a boy with stark white hair and a green scarf was mumbling something. He could only catch a few words of it and it didn't make any sense. Fillan realized he was staring at the guy and quickly looked away, only to hear the boy burst into laughter. What does he find that's so funny? It's probably the scene unfolding right here. That doesn't make any sense though, why would someone laugh about that?

Fillan saw he was standing and it looked like he was going to approach the group when suddenly, he stopped. What made him do that? Is he afraid of them? Has he thought better of approaching that girl?

He turned back to his packet, the word problem still awaiting an answer. With a blank look on his face, he realized that the solution he'd come up with had slipped his mind.

The Sanctuary - Fantasy RolePlay

The Professor

Simeon Floyd

---

"I really wish you were dead right now, no offense. Dead corpses are very fascinating, and you'd be a perfect specimen."

---

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Race/Species: Metahuman

Abilities:

• Necromancy- Can animate dead things or control them, use other's life force to heal himself, or regenerate, but only as a last resort when he can't reach his medkit. Veins turn black and smells like a rotting corpse whenever he uses his powers.
• Extensive Medical Knowledge- Due to his years of service as a medic, Floyd is very skilled when it comes to patching others up.

Appearance: Floyd's general appearance is overall unremarkable, he has a darkly tanned complexion from being out in the field for long amounts of time, with a compact build and broad shoulders though he's a tad bit short. He has short black hair that's around an 1" long and usually appears neatly combed. Despite serving in the military, he has a poor constitution. He has deep blue eyes and about a week's growth of facial hair. Wears square glasses. He has a few faint scars on his arms. He has a strange swirl birthmark on his chest. Appears to be in his late twenties/early thirties.
As for clothing, Floyd errs more to a formal clothing style but isn't too consistent, wears comfortable and/or practical clothing otherwise such as sweatpants, jeans, hoodies, or shorts.

Personality: A morbid character, he has an unwholesome interest in dead corpses. He's not a murderer perse, as he served in the military as a medic and his sworn duty is to patch people up, not kill them. Being a medic does give him the excuse to investigate dead corpses off battlefields and he often likes to use the corpses for ghoulish experiments. Sometimes he'll cut off the fingers and/or ears off bodies and slip them into his medic bag when no one's looking, or take any "souvenirs" of things he can find off the body. Rarely is he shaken by mutilated or gory things, he doesn't even try to hide his childlike glee whenever he finds a corpse. (especially if it's fresh) He appears disinterested in most social situations, though he perks up whenever someone mentions "corpse" or "body" in any context. That person is likely to be peppered with questions from then onwards.

Backstory: Floyd's first memories were ones filled with death. His mother was killed in a car accident when he was only three, and the accident left him in the hospital for several weeks. His dad never was the same after that, not that Floyd could remember the passionate, direct, and carefree person his father used to be. Not in any way negligent, his father was stern and protective, attempting to shelter Floyd in any way he could.
The fascination began with a sharpened stick and a trail of ants. Floyd squatted on the sidewalk, a boy of six, with a stick he had found nearby. His gaze followed the trail of ants intently, before jabbing his stick into the black mass. Bits of smashed exoskeleton were seemingly all that remained, but if he stared at the smudge long enough, it began to reassemble and become a whole ant again, rejoining the others in an ant parade. Young Floyd was completely and utterly amazed by the scene that had just unfolded.
He had a natural dislike for the act of killing, but a complete fixation on corpses. Whereas others might steer away from roadkill, Floyd wanders over and picks it up, examines it, and stuffs it into his bag. This became a problem as he got older, his father barging into his room uninvited wondering what on Earth that awful smell was only to find Floyd dissecting the body of a cat instead of doing his homework. Floyd's father was worried about the pestiliance the dead corpses would bring and, against Floyd's pleads, thoroughly searched Floyd's room and tossed out any and all the dead animal corpses he could find in there. He beseeched Floyd to drop his interest in conducting these "experiments".
Gradually, Floyd's interests in corpses shifted towards something a little more extreme. He really wanted a human corpse. He needed a human corpse. The problem was with obtaining a human corpse. He knew he could always try the graveyard, but he didn't like to think about the labor involved in trying to dig up a body. He also knew that his new job as a college professor demanded more attention at that moment than did devising a plot to obtain fresh human corpses did, so he put it aside. That is, until he joined the army.
Now out of the army, Floyd struggled with making end's meet and resuming the life he used to lead. He had very little money and what money that was lying around he used to conduct his bizare experiments of reanimating the dead on. He hadn't eaten in days and was on the verge of losing his house when a funny letter found it's self into his mailbox. "The Sanctuary" intrigued him and he didn't see any harm in going. He absentmindedly wondered if he could get even more corpses there too.

Other: Goes by his last name and rarely gives out his first at all.

The Sanctuary - Fantasy RolePlay

@ReveTheDreamer
Yay thanks! Will do so!

The Sanctuary - Fantasy RolePlay

The Professor

Simeon Floyd

---

"I really wish you were dead right now, no offense. Dead corpses are very fascinating, and you'd be a perfect specimen."

---

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Race/Species: Metahuman

Abilities:

• Necromancy- Can animate dead things or control them, use other's life force to heal himself, or regenerate, but only as a last resort when he can't reach his medkit. Veins turn black and smells like a rotting corpse whenever he uses his powers.
• Extensive Medical Knowledge- Due to his years of service as a medic, Floyd is very skilled when it comes to patching others up.

Appearance: Floyd's general appearance is overall unremarkable, he has a darkly tanned complexion from being out in the field for long amounts of time, with a compact build and broad shoulders though he's a tad bit short. He has short black hair that's around an 1" long and usually appears neatly combed. Despite serving in the military, he has a poor constitution. He has deep blue eyes and about a week's growth of facial hair. Wears square glasses. He has a few faint scars on his arms. He has a strange swirl birthmark on his chest. Appears to be in his late twenties/early thirties.
As for clothing, Floyd errs more to a formal clothing style but isn't too consistent, wears comfortable and/or practical clothing otherwise such as sweatpants, jeans, hoodies, or shorts.

Personality: A morbid character, he has an unwholesome interest in dead corpses. He's not a murderer perse, as he served in the military as a medic and his sworn duty is to patch people up, not kill them. Being a medic does give him the excuse to investigate dead corpses off battlefields and he often likes to use the corpses for ghoulish experiments. Sometimes he'll cut off the fingers and/or ears off bodies and slip them into his medic bag when no one's looking, or take any "souvenirs" of things he can find off the body. Rarely is he shaken by mutilated or gory things, he doesn't even try to hide his childlike glee whenever he finds a corpse. (especially if it's fresh) He appears disinterested in most social situations, though he perks up whenever someone mentions "corpse" or "body" in any context. That person is likely to be peppered with questions from then onwards.

Backstory: Floyd's first memories were ones filled with death. His mother was killed in a car accident when he was only three, and the accident left him in the hospital for several weeks. His dad never was the same after that, not that Floyd could remember the passionate, direct, and carefree person his father used to be. Not in any way negligent, his father was stern and protective, attempting to shelter Floyd in any way he could.
The fascination began with a sharpened stick and a trail of ants. Floyd squatted on the sidewalk, a boy of six, with a stick he had found nearby. His gaze followed the trail of ants intently, before jabbing his stick into the black mass. Bits of smashed exoskeleton were seemingly all that remained, but if he stared at the smudge long enough, it began to reassemble and become a whole ant again, rejoining the others in an ant parade. Young Floyd was completely and utterly amazed by the scene that had just unfolded.
He had a natural dislike for the act of killing, but a complete fixation on corpses. Whereas others might steer away from roadkill, Floyd wanders over and picks it up, examines it, and stuffs it into his bag. This became a problem as he got older, his father barging into his room uninvited wondering what on Earth that awful smell was only to find Floyd dissecting the body of a cat instead of doing his homework. Floyd's father was worried about the pestiliance the dead corpses would bring and, against Floyd's pleads, thoroughly searched Floyd's room and tossed out any and all the dead animal corpses he could find in there. He beseeched Floyd to drop his interest in conducting these "experiments".
Gradually, Floyd's interests in corpses shifted towards something a little more extreme. He really wanted a human corpse. He needed a human corpse. The problem was with obtaining a human corpse. He knew he could always try the graveyard, but he didn't like to think about the labor involved in trying to dig up a body. He also knew that his new job as a college professor demanded more attention at that moment than did devising a plot to obtain fresh human corpses did, so he put it aside. That is, until he joined the army.
Now out of the army, Floyd struggled with making end's meet and resuming the life he used to lead. He had very little money and what money that was lying around he used to conduct his bizare experiments of reanimating the dead on. He hadn't eaten in days and was on the verge of losing his house when a funny letter found it's self into his mailbox. "The Sanctuary" intrigued him and he didn't see any harm in going. He absentmindedly wondered if he could get even more corpses there too.

Other: Goes by his last name and rarely gives out his first at all.

Highschoolers, Fight on!

@ReveTheDreamer

A tall boy with long red hair casually walked into the room, causing Fillan to look up from his packets. He hadn't seen this student in the halls before but he strode right past him and instantly began conversing with the two girls in the front of the classroom. Fillan wondered how someone could just strike up a conversation with another student that easily.

As Fillan settled down, he began to continue doing his packets when he noticed the empty chair sitting beside him. I know it's been there since I've walked into this classroom, but it almost feels like something's missing here. Did I forget my stuff? Fillan tightened his hand around his bag, Why is this chair so empty and desolate? How long has it been since someone sat in it? Is this chair originally part of the building, refurbished or new? Why did I sit here and not there? Perhaps I just passed it paying no specific attention to my surroundings and picked a spot at random. I still can't quite shake this feeling that I've forgotten something... someone?
As Fillan formulated trivial thoughts regarding the empty chair and it's origins, he heard the scrapping of the large wooden doors moving back. A very large and broad figure stood in the doorway and upon further inspection, one that he knew very well,
"Kludd!"
He said in an excited, yet hushed tone. The headmistress was still instructing the class in the front of the room, and he didn't wish to disturb anyone.

Fillan saw Kludd didn't take the same measures when it came to being quiet as he stormed right up to him. His face equal parts relieved but also agitated.
Fillan crossed his arms as Kludd spoke and looked down, avoiding Kludd's face. Guiltily, he recalled a voice in the back of his head telling him not to stray too far from Kludd and to wait up. He kicked himself now for not heeding it and staying but he also felt a little conflicted, he wanted to be able to go wherever he wanted. Fillan quickly made up his mind.
"Sorry,"
Fillan quietly mumbled. He picked up his pencil and resumed doing his packets.