@ViolentViolet Could I possibly make some characters for here? I adore the Warriors series and it seems hecka cool!
corrosive Banned
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@Arista Will you be starting the IC on this soon? :o
@Morte Angelis
Maybe that was the reason that the five-foot-seven warlock was staring up at him so strangely, and maybe that was why he looked so confused when he started speaking. Initially he'd been confused by how easily he'd grabbed his hand to study the name in his skin, his talon fingers and everything were plainly visible but he let him hold on to it while he listened to the strange words. This definitely wasn't English and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out and Roderick was definitely not a rocket scientist. Roderick knew some Spanish, a tiny spot of French but none of this was Spanish, English or French and he found himself tilting his head to the tall elven man.
His taloned hand was dropped and replaced by the wrist that was thrust at him, he took it with light claws and tilted it so he could stare. It was definitely his name, it was marked in the skin cleanly like a tattoo. He'd never seen anything quite like it and he looked up at the other man, trying to understand anything but mostly managing to look very befuddled before glancing back down to his name again and running the sharp tip of one claw just above it. The man was handsome, taller than him with a strong build and he had vibrant green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim light from the trees. He would have told him he liked his eyes if he wasn't so sure he might not understand him.
He surely couldn't understand a single word leaving this tall man's mouth and he could feel his own confusion like a fog before he released his wrist lightly. He didn't want to just sit there clutching it for dear life and now his heart was starting to drum in his ears. This was his soulmate and he definitely wasn't a tree, he wasn't a tree and it was much more terrifying that he wasn't just some oak. He decided to do the most universal introduction of them all and extended a hand for him to shake. The hand was mostly normal but there were long hooked claws instead of fingers, they meshed into the skin at the second knuckle and they were as black as ink and as hard as bone. The ends seemed as sharp as blades and they clicked when they touched each other, they were definitely weird to see.
"Roderick," he introduced himself, dipping his head to the tall man before him. "I- do you speak any English? I can't understand your dialect. I mean- I don't speak- What is it that you're speaking? It sounds lovely but I'm not-" he was blathering before he could stop himself. "I'm a warlock-- we all get some unfortunate marking but the claws are mine and I expected you to freak at the sight of them, many have-"
His laugh was light, nervous. "Do you even understand me?"
Maybe that was the reason that the five-foot-seven warlock was staring up at him so strangely, and maybe that was why he looked so confused when he started speaking. Initially he'd been confused by how easily he'd grabbed his hand to study the name in his skin, his talon fingers and everything were plainly visible but he let him hold on to it while he listened to the strange words. This definitely wasn't English and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out and Roderick was definitely not a rocket scientist. Roderick knew some Spanish, a tiny spot of French but none of this was Spanish, English or French and he found himself tilting his head to the tall elven man.
His taloned hand was dropped and replaced by the wrist that was thrust at him, he took it with light claws and tilted it so he could stare. It was definitely his name, it was marked in the skin cleanly like a tattoo. He'd never seen anything quite like it and he looked up at the other man, trying to understand anything but mostly managing to look very befuddled before glancing back down to his name again and running the sharp tip of one claw just above it. The man was handsome, taller than him with a strong build and he had vibrant green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim light from the trees. He would have told him he liked his eyes if he wasn't so sure he might not understand him.
He surely couldn't understand a single word leaving this tall man's mouth and he could feel his own confusion like a fog before he released his wrist lightly. He didn't want to just sit there clutching it for dear life and now his heart was starting to drum in his ears. This was his soulmate and he definitely wasn't a tree, he wasn't a tree and it was much more terrifying that he wasn't just some oak. He decided to do the most universal introduction of them all and extended a hand for him to shake. The hand was mostly normal but there were long hooked claws instead of fingers, they meshed into the skin at the second knuckle and they were as black as ink and as hard as bone. The ends seemed as sharp as blades and they clicked when they touched each other, they were definitely weird to see.
"Roderick," he introduced himself, dipping his head to the tall man before him. "I- do you speak any English? I can't understand your dialect. I mean- I don't speak- What is it that you're speaking? It sounds lovely but I'm not-" he was blathering before he could stop himself. "I'm a warlock-- we all get some unfortunate marking but the claws are mine and I expected you to freak at the sight of them, many have-"
His laugh was light, nervous. "Do you even understand me?"
@Morte Angelis
Roderick drew in a deep breath of the park air, trying to keep his wits about him as he headed forward with long strides. He had decided that hence forth, he'd be following wherever his instincts lead him and his instincts nearly lead him into a tree--quickly dodged and averted. The problem with being a warlock was often the fact that he didn't know how to use most of his powers, though he was still considerably young, the man had never had much patience. He didn't like the random happenings, he didn't like the way the leaves near him seemed to be swept in some invisible breeze and rustled along behind him. He didn't like that he didn't know, that was the worst thing, not knowing. What use was a warlock who hadn't mastered his powers?
If he was a better warlock, perhaps he could have done a tracking spell of some sort and found this lucky participant lickity split but since he was not a better warlock, he ended up wandering aimlessly. Each person he passed was saved a glance at their wrist but no one was glowing and nobody felt right. He passed a few people that glanced at him with something like understanding and he nearly became so frustrated that he snapped at them but he managed to keep it under wraps as he walked. The trees became more dense in this part of the park, the grass became thicker underfoot and more lush, it was much greener and he felt much more frustrated.
Kicking a rock sharply, he watched it skitter across the ground and bounce off a tree. Begrudgingly he complimented himself on his rock soccer skills and nearly groaned out loud because there was seemingly no one there to cheer him on. Where were they? The warlock had never had any patience and the squawking birds over head were giving him a bit of a headache, trying to ignore them, he changed focus to his surroundings. Trees, trees, wow trees. Who is that? Oh wait! That's a tree.
Tearing the gloves off, he shoved them in his pocket and glanced at the glowing mark anxiously, it was practically on fire at this point and he shot his glance from side to side. What was this? Was his soulmate a tree? Was he going to be taking a nice oak home to his parents today? Perhaps a pine tree! That would be great! His mother always told him to respect a sturdy pine tree, he'd treat it to dinner, he'd buy it a hat, he'd- Oh.
His gaze sought out the shape of another living being within the cover of the trees and he glanced at the beaming mark and back towards the humanoid shape. He'd forgotten to put back on the concealing gloves but he was walking towards them, trying not to startle them in the dappled forest light. He wasn't quiet by any means, his trudging footsteps unmistakable in the grassy terrain.
Roderick drew in a deep breath of the park air, trying to keep his wits about him as he headed forward with long strides. He had decided that hence forth, he'd be following wherever his instincts lead him and his instincts nearly lead him into a tree--quickly dodged and averted. The problem with being a warlock was often the fact that he didn't know how to use most of his powers, though he was still considerably young, the man had never had much patience. He didn't like the random happenings, he didn't like the way the leaves near him seemed to be swept in some invisible breeze and rustled along behind him. He didn't like that he didn't know, that was the worst thing, not knowing. What use was a warlock who hadn't mastered his powers?
If he was a better warlock, perhaps he could have done a tracking spell of some sort and found this lucky participant lickity split but since he was not a better warlock, he ended up wandering aimlessly. Each person he passed was saved a glance at their wrist but no one was glowing and nobody felt right. He passed a few people that glanced at him with something like understanding and he nearly became so frustrated that he snapped at them but he managed to keep it under wraps as he walked. The trees became more dense in this part of the park, the grass became thicker underfoot and more lush, it was much greener and he felt much more frustrated.
Kicking a rock sharply, he watched it skitter across the ground and bounce off a tree. Begrudgingly he complimented himself on his rock soccer skills and nearly groaned out loud because there was seemingly no one there to cheer him on. Where were they? The warlock had never had any patience and the squawking birds over head were giving him a bit of a headache, trying to ignore them, he changed focus to his surroundings. Trees, trees, wow trees. Who is that? Oh wait! That's a tree.
Tearing the gloves off, he shoved them in his pocket and glanced at the glowing mark anxiously, it was practically on fire at this point and he shot his glance from side to side. What was this? Was his soulmate a tree? Was he going to be taking a nice oak home to his parents today? Perhaps a pine tree! That would be great! His mother always told him to respect a sturdy pine tree, he'd treat it to dinner, he'd buy it a hat, he'd- Oh.
His gaze sought out the shape of another living being within the cover of the trees and he glanced at the beaming mark and back towards the humanoid shape. He'd forgotten to put back on the concealing gloves but he was walking towards them, trying not to startle them in the dappled forest light. He wasn't quiet by any means, his trudging footsteps unmistakable in the grassy terrain.
You have my interest as well! 8)
@Dewey Deftones Pretty good! Yourself?
Today was the day, that was the most startling factor of all and it nearly terrified him with it's presence. For years the name that wrapped around his skin had appeared very strange to him. It was different, a ring instead of the usual markings that burned like insignia on many other's wrists. A ring curved into his skin, so small and neat that he could barely read what it said sometimes, heck, he could barely read what it said most of the time. His mother had always told him stories about how meeting his soulmate would change everything for him and he had been nervous ever since, he didn't like change and he never had. It made him feel uncomfortable and itchy-- maybe that was just the mark.
The park had been a last second idea, after grabbing a strawberry smoothie from the corner store and nearly chewing the straw in half with his anxiousness, he'd made a beeline. The park was gathering the usual early morning visitors and he could feel the burning itch in his skin and he nearly pulled off his concealing gloves just to check if it was actually glowing. He could almost feel it and he wasn't about to give it the satisfaction. The gloves were meant to hide the hooked, clawed fingers behind about three layers of glamour and a hope that nobody tried to remove them. He could always feel them though, they were like exposed bone and they were sharper than blades.
Everything else about him seemed normal, dark brown hair that always seemed mused and gray-blue eyes that looked stormy no matter what the weather happened to be. He blended in with a crowd, nobody ever wondered about him and he liked it that way. He had his mother's good features, her wavy hair and her bright smile and he'd been told he had his father's roman nose and his stormy eyes. He was handsome but it was an average enough beauty that nobody thought twice about the five-foot-seven inches of warlock that had just made his way into the park. He wore a fluffy gray scarf despite the weather, coiled around his neck tightly over his blue button down and his stone washed jeans.
The smoothie was starting to get damp with condensation and it was reminded him that he was nervous out of his mind. His stomach wrenched at the thought of finishing it and he chucked it in the waste bin before drawing in a deep breath and glancing around.
He saw trees and early morning joggers mostly, some kids screaming and chasing each other and a few flitting birds in the trees. He gave into instinct and pulled the glove off to stare at the sharp talon fingers and the mark. It was burning as if it was lit from within and he grimaced at it before glancing up nervously again and glancing back at the mark.
"This thing is so peculiar." he mumbled before pulling the glove back over it. "It could be anyone. Anyone."
The park had been a last second idea, after grabbing a strawberry smoothie from the corner store and nearly chewing the straw in half with his anxiousness, he'd made a beeline. The park was gathering the usual early morning visitors and he could feel the burning itch in his skin and he nearly pulled off his concealing gloves just to check if it was actually glowing. He could almost feel it and he wasn't about to give it the satisfaction. The gloves were meant to hide the hooked, clawed fingers behind about three layers of glamour and a hope that nobody tried to remove them. He could always feel them though, they were like exposed bone and they were sharper than blades.
Everything else about him seemed normal, dark brown hair that always seemed mused and gray-blue eyes that looked stormy no matter what the weather happened to be. He blended in with a crowd, nobody ever wondered about him and he liked it that way. He had his mother's good features, her wavy hair and her bright smile and he'd been told he had his father's roman nose and his stormy eyes. He was handsome but it was an average enough beauty that nobody thought twice about the five-foot-seven inches of warlock that had just made his way into the park. He wore a fluffy gray scarf despite the weather, coiled around his neck tightly over his blue button down and his stone washed jeans.
The smoothie was starting to get damp with condensation and it was reminded him that he was nervous out of his mind. His stomach wrenched at the thought of finishing it and he chucked it in the waste bin before drawing in a deep breath and glancing around.
He saw trees and early morning joggers mostly, some kids screaming and chasing each other and a few flitting birds in the trees. He gave into instinct and pulled the glove off to stare at the sharp talon fingers and the mark. It was burning as if it was lit from within and he grimaced at it before glancing up nervously again and glancing back at the mark.
"This thing is so peculiar." he mumbled before pulling the glove back over it. "It could be anyone. Anyone."
He looks almost completely normal but his hands are clawed like talons instead of fingers, they are very sharp.
Name: Roderick Harold Duchannes.
Age: Twenty.
Gender: Male.
Species: Warlock - A creature born of a demon and a human, immortal with magical powers. Often seen with a mark of their status, something that would appear strange to the human eye.
Sexual Preference: Bisexual.
Likes: Cloudy days, winter, vibrant colors, ants and other small insects, cats, scarves, reading, writing, singing, violin, classical music.
Dislikes: Sunny days, summer, pale colors, spiders, loud noises, unidentifiable noises, raccoons, strange smells.
Bio:
He was born almost completely normal to a step father and a mother. Though she often brushed over the subject of his real father without relaying many details, he mostly assumed that he had died before he was born. He lived a very simple life, though his fingers were often a bit befuddling to look at, he never had the urge to ask his mother about them and often wore thick leather gloves to hide them. He was very smart throughout school and very respected among his peers for his growing talents with writing.
His interest in writing became his life and he was quick to join the school's paper, often reporting all that he could on the latest happenings and he became very good at it. It wasn't until one day while he was working with the editor for an assignment, he sent her out to get to her classes and he got to work. His mind began to wander and that was when he noticed that every paper in the room had began to rise around him and they were moving in lazy circles.
His terror was as quick as them falling to the ground, left staring at a pile of papers scattered all around him. He didn't know what it meant but he knew that it couldn't be normal and he left with a pounding heart and he tried to forget the incident. His life was full of incidents, random strange things; candles lighting by themselves, floating leaves, things disappearing. It became a theme and he did all he could to ignore it until his mother confronted him about his heritage and left him with a hollow feeling in his chest.
He went to college after much urging from his step father and became a journalist for the local news paper and that's where he is now.
Occupation: Journalist.
Country of Origin: United States Of America.
Feelings about meeting their soul mate: He often found himself staring at the strange markings in his skin and feeling apprehension, he's nervous about who they are and he's nervous about how they would feel about him.
He looks almost completely normal but his hands are clawed like talons instead of fingers, they are very sharp.
Name: Roderick Harold Duchannes.
Age: Twenty.
Gender: Male.
Species: Warlock - A creature born of a demon and a human, immortal with magical powers. Often seen with a mark of their status, something that would appear strange to the human eye.
Sexual Preference: Bisexual.
Likes: Cloudy days, winter, vibrant colors, ants and other small insects, cats, scarves, reading, writing, singing, violin, classical music.
Dislikes: Sunny days, summer, pale colors, spiders, loud noises, unidentifiable noises, raccoons, strange smells.
Bio:
He was born almost completely normal to a step father and a mother. Though she often brushed over the subject of his real father without relaying many details, he mostly assumed that he had died before he was born. He lived a very simple life, though his fingers were often a bit befuddling to look at, he never had the urge to ask his mother about them and often wore thick leather gloves to hide them. He was very smart throughout school and very respected among his peers for his growing talents with writing.
His interest in writing became his life and he was quick to join the school's paper, often reporting all that he could on the latest happenings and he became very good at it. It wasn't until one day while he was working with the editor for an assignment, he sent her out to get to her classes and he got to work. His mind began to wander and that was when he noticed that every paper in the room had began to rise around him and they were moving in lazy circles.
His terror was as quick as them falling to the ground, left staring at a pile of papers scattered all around him. He didn't know what it meant but he knew that it couldn't be normal and he left with a pounding heart and he tried to forget the incident. His life was full of incidents, random strange things; candles lighting by themselves, floating leaves, things disappearing. It became a theme and he did all he could to ignore it until his mother confronted him about his heritage and left him with a hollow feeling in his chest.
He went to college after much urging from his step father and became a journalist for the local news paper and that's where he is now.
Occupation: Journalist.
Country of Origin: United States Of America.
Feelings about meeting their soul mate: He often found himself staring at the strange markings in his skin and feeling apprehension, he's nervous about who they are and he's nervous about how they would feel about him.
@Morte Angelis Then here's a nerdy warlock.
@Morte Angelis If you're still accepting, I would love to make a CS. 8)
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