Marx

Aulani Academy ((Daemon Hunters))

Vicier said
I will post again once I finish work! I'm really looking forward to seeing how everyone reacts to the daemon I have in store x'D

*scoots closer to the edge of his seat, practically falling off*
Sure you can't tell us now? I mean, it's not like I'd power write a post and try to get to the demon first or anything... >_>

Aulani Academy ((Daemon Hunters))

While the new students were petering in, Cyril had already been here for several weeks, taking advantage of the fact that his room was his for the remainder of his enrollment. There was little to do away from school. His worldly possessions were limited to a small house and a slightly larger church which had remained silent since his father's passing. Cyril had made a short trip to Ireland to maintain the estate and pay respect to the dead. The family mausoleum had reached capacity with his father, storing the past nine generations of Garnets. He was the only surviving member of the Garnet family and fittingly, though it was to be expected. His father, Cassius, reminded him that Garnets have a nasty tendency to die young and leave the last member to fend for themselves. He doubted he would be an exception.

Cyril had spent much of his summer studying and had taken the time to meet with a priest his father once confided in during his time at Aulani. The priest knew the Garnet name well, the Garnet line having passed through the church for generations. In spite of the traditional requirements to become a man of god, Garnets would receive an honorary Masters of Divinity for their time dedicated to the Church and their time dedicated to the banishment of the children of Lucifer. As of June 3rd, Cyril was a priest of the Roman Catholic church and was given his Clerical collar which he frequently wears beneath his tie. His entry into the Church gave him the right to create weapons of his own, particularly holy water and blessed salt which acts like acid on the skin of daemons.

The crowd of first years had drawn the young hunter's attention as he took a walk through campus with his daemons in tow, Thane and Set. The two, Cyril and Thane, generally spoke among one another while Set listened in obediently. Set's strength was far less than that of Thane and Set had a respect for Thane much in the way a child views an adult. "Mar sin, go leor i mbliana," Cyril said softly in Gaelic to his daemonic friend that glided along like a shade wrapped in obsidian cloth. It wasn't rare for the two daemons to remain visible, despite their ability to shift out of the visible spectrum and become dormant wraiths. Thane seemed to nod to Cyril's comment, his voice seemed to melt from his body-less form as he spoke "do chomórtas växer för varje år" the daemon responded, shifting from Gaelic to Swedish. It was rare for the daemon to speak more than a few sentences in the same language, Cyril was just relieved to speak one of his more familiar languages for once. Cyril was fluent in well over a dozen living languages and six dead languages, and at least novice level in several dozen through near constant practice with Thane, though Thane's skill far outmatched his own and Cyril knew he could never best a Librarian of Hell itself. Cyril continued, hopping over to Swedish to match the pace of Thane, "De flesta av de nyfödda kommer att förlora sin flamma snart nog dock, både du och jag vet det." The sound of distant rumbling thunder echoed from the Librarian, the odd sound being what Cyril assumed was laughter.

Cyril had little intention for the first years to understand what he was saying, though there was always the chance that among the sea of fresh faces there was one capable of catching one of the languages he would share with his daemonic companion. A familiar face passed by, that of a Latin boy whose daemon was a horse. Cyril had never interacted with the young man, though he had always been good with faces. Many people recognized him rather easily, Cyril being one to always dress sharply and keep his two daemons by his side. His status as one of the top five hunters among third years also made him rather well known. At more than one point he had been the top, though the others were incredibly talented and almost an ambitious as himself. As if on queue the blaring of the spotting alarm rung out across the campus, alerting him to the presence of a daemon.

Perhaps the first years will get to see a small show, Cyril softly smirked, looking to Thane. "Obrěšti nebo prizoveši," Cyril commanded, his voice sharp as his tongue danced with the ancient language his father taught him as a child. Thane solemnly nodded, spreading the tome he carried wide before him, ethereal fingers running along the pages, a black form beginning to crawl forth from the book. Its body was drenched in ink that seemed to pour off of it once it emerged, revealing a small four winged bat whose wings buzzed like that of a humming bird. Thane's voice twisted and crackled like burning brimstone as he spoke to the class D daemon in their native language, commanding it to take to the sky and tell them where the rogue daemon was for its soul to be freed.

That bat took to the sky and for a moment, Cyril gave himself a chance to look at the fresh faces, his eyes quickly darting over them. He had nothing to say to them as he waited and made to attempt to communicate with neither the new hunters nor his daemons. Set's curiosity got the best of it and it slid between its two masters, approaching the fresh hunters, its veiled face moving close to several of the hunters. The first years didn't seem to know quite how to respond and Cyril had no interest in assisting them. Set reached out to one first year, bringing its ebon claws near her. "Enough." Cyril commanded, Set's hand dropping, its body shrugged downward like a shamed puppy. Thane looked toward his master, continuing to speak in Swedish, "Demonen ligger norr." Cyril closed his eyes tightly in mild frustration for a moment, knowing that if any of the first years could speak Swedish, they'd know where to hunt. He have to remind his companion to watch its words later on. "Come." He nodded sharply, making his way through the crowd which parted like the Red Sea before him and his daemons.

Dehumanized

Isam has a guest on his boat, I hope that's not too much of a problem.

Dehumanized

Ulysses was a natural predator. From a young age he had discovered his talent for the hunt. The mutation that grew within him created a valuable asset that his father and brother needed to hunt crocalisks, the gigantic six legged gators that floated along the bayous like ancient biblical leviathans. Early in the morning, while the beasts slumbered, he would slip into the murky waters with nothing more than a knife and wait on the river floor. Sometimes for minutes, sometimes hours. It was only during the hunt that Ulysses found peace. The absolute dedication of one's self to a task brought about a serene calmness that flooded his body with warmth. Even along the freezing river bed his body would burn with anticipation, every centimeter of his skin tingling with excitement for what was to come. Catfish, serpents, and spider-like crustaceans would crawl along him, unaware of his presence, treating him if he were a slumbering gator. Eventually one of the gargantuan reptiles that resembled a gator of the lost world would lazily float above him, its eyes fixated on the surface of the water, its hunt, much like Ulysses, only concerning the creatures that dared fly above it. It was during those moments that Ulysses would drive his knife into the belly of the beast and simply wait. The shock from the action alone was always enough to send the gators into a panic, causing them to swim away, allowing the knife to simply cut alone, spilling its organs into the murky waters.

Ulysses snapped up from his dream of his old life, before his family fell apart, before he was alone. There was little that he still remembered from those times, his long-term memory having rapidly decayed over the past few years. Only shadows of memories remained, though Ulysses was unsure if that were worrisome or not. The pain in his chest when he thought of his family had lessened as the memories began to blur. Perhaps it was a gift those above that he could forget that which caused him pain. Ulysses quickly gathered himself, noticing the man that he had been stalking lately seemed to be on the move. The man was an oddity that drew Ulysses in like moths to a flame, for he was unlike anything he had seen. His skin was neither white nor black, but a soft brown, like tanned leather. It was a mutation that Ulysses had never seen before and it seemed to strange, for it was so very mundane. The strange man's boat was stranger yet, for it had sails, yet it lacked paddles. The man beginning to make his way down the river was almost a blessing to Ulysses though, for it sparked the thrill of the hunt within him once more. Soon he would meet this man and ask him about his strange skin and his stranger ship. Unless the man was mean, like the others. Ulysses wasn't sure he could handle more disappointment. He just wanted to meet another human, make a new friend. Maybe one that knew how to read! One that could read the storybook that bared his name. The book that was protected by nearly a dozen waterproof bags that Ulysses had scavenged from convenience stores.

Ulysses brought his bag and bow over his shoulder and emerged from the derelict home he had been hiding in, chasing after the boat with bright eyes. As he reached the river, without hesitation he dove in sinking quickly to the river bed where he quickly swam along after the boat, hidden beneath the thick murky water that was as familiar to him as the open air. Soon he had closed the gap between himself and the boat and emerged from the water where the anchor sat, grabbing onto it. He tugged carefully, making sure it would not drop him before he pulled at it, dredging himself up from the water. The process of pulling himself up to the deck was slow, though he had his practice climbing things that weren't meant to be climbed. It was just a matter of time at this point. With a sharp breath, he lurched up and grabbed onto the railing, looking over at the dark skinned man with hair black like night. "Brown man, would you help me up?"

Welcome to 2041 [A Cyberpunk Epic]

I'm gonna unreserve my spot. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up with the rp at the moment. My apologies. Congrats on the interest your rp is generating though!

Aulani Academy ((Daemon Hunters))

Made a few minor edits to my CS as well as the addition of a demon power I forgot to add.

Matryoshka said
Oh shoot, Heidi's the only first year, isn't she? Hey Vicier, as a first-year, will Heidi have less opportunities to interact with the other characters as they are upperclassmen and she is not only a first-year, but knows virtually nothing about being a daemon hunter whatsoever? And if so, should I bump her up a year?

Heidi could probably find a friend in Cyril by speaking to him in any of her native languages. He's fluent in Swedish and an intermediate with both Finnish and Russian, so he'd probably be happy to practice a language with anyone that isn't his daemon.

Aulani Academy ((Daemon Hunters))

How many people do you want before things get started?

Aulani Academy ((Daemon Hunters))

Name: Cyril Ignatius Garnet
Nickname: Nathan, Nate
Age: 17
Birthday: December 29th
Gender: Male
Relationship status: Single
Year Level: 3rd

Eye colour: Hazel
Hair colour: Dark Brown
Skin colour: Caucasian, light tonned
Build of body: Lithe

Likes: Languages, Mythology, Religion, Trees, Owls, Cooking, Singing, The colour orange
Fears: Bonding with daemons beyond Thane and Set, Home, Large bodies of water, Guns, Alcohol, Bright light
Personal goals: To leave the academy with an established reputation as a skilled hunter, To understand the daemons more thoroughly than any of his contemporaries, To befriend another student
Personality: Cyril has an unbreakable work ethic, always giving whatever he's working on every ounce of his strength from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. Though this brings certain repercussions, particularly in that he rarely interacts with others. Being particularly social has never been his strong suit though, chiefly due to the fact that before he entered the academy he had only met a few dozen people in the small town where he grew up. Nathan has never approached anyone for anything outside of class related work and hasn't really given anyone the chance to approach him. In his two years on campus, he has participated in every hunt and has developed a decent reputation as a hunter, particularly for the silent ferocity he wields when hunting daemons.

Relationships
Father - Cassius: Cyril was incredibly close to him from a young age to his death.
Mother - Elizabeth: Cyril's mother passed away three years after his birth from pneumonia.

Classes
Compulsory Subjects:
1. Maths
2. English
Selective Subjects:
1. Photography
2. Music
Specialized Subjects:
1. Dead Languages
2. Daemonology
3. Advanced Healing
4. Combat

Background
Bio:
Cyril was born to a family of daemon hunters, both his mother and father being accomplished hunters. His childhood home was attached to a small Catholic church in rural Ireland. His mother passed on from illness when he was still a small child, leaving him with fragmented memories of her. His father, though heartbroken was able to provide care for Cyril while dealing with grief and running his church. Cyril's days were filled with wisdom shared by his father, of language, religion, emotions, and the world. His father was an incredibly wise man who always seemed to understand the emotions of those around him and always seemed to be able communicate with those who wished to speak with him. Cyril's nights were plagued with nightmares of two figures who would watch over him as he slept, one draped with ebony robes that obscured its entire form, the other 's legs and face hidden, revealing only a lanky pale body with obsidian talons. The robed one would speak to him in his dreams, using words and sounds that Cyril had never before heard. When he confided in his father about these nightmares, he only nodded and hugged Cyril, telling him to never fear those two for they would one day become Cyril's closest friends.

By the time Cyril was fourteen years old, he was fluent in seven languages, among those Gaelic, Latin, and Old Church Salvonic. It was also in that year that Cyril's father met his end and the two daemons from his nightmares appeared before him, the one clad in ebony robes carefully recording every moment of his father's death while the clawed one merely stared at the corpse, an insurmountable sadness emanating from the husk of a body. The robed daemon offered the book to Cyril after some time passed, the page filled with ancient words it had been speaking to Cyril for years, a single blank line at the bottom of the page awaiting a signature. Cyril was later taken to the academy, having signed the contract in blood earlier that day, becoming one of the few young hunters to posses a B class daemon.

Daemons - General Information

Name: Thane the Librarian
Species: Humanoid - Ancient Scholar
Gender: Genderless
Class: B
Powers:
Link: Thane has a mental link with it's master, able to telepathically communicate. He frequently jumps around in languages, between live, dead, and demonic languages. Unbeknownst to Cyril, Thane has been in Cyril's family for six generations and is a major factor to the Garnet line's vast understanding of language.
Scour: Accessing the archives of Hell, Thane can pull forth information on most daemons bar some of the highest level entities. Using this information, Thane can discern the most intimate of details of any daemon, from their former human identities, their sins, and their strengths and weaknesses.
Binding: A daemon in its death throes can be bound to Thane's tome, weaving some of their essence to the pages. This banishes the daemon from the mortal world and allows Thane to manipulate it, should it return to the world of mortals.
Harken: All language spoken before Thane is recorded by its tome. Due to its immense age, many languages long dead reside in its endless tome.
Exorcise: Daemons of rank D and E can be exorcised by Thane with relative ease due to the vast difference in power. Exorcise is a more powerful version of binding in that it burns the entire essence of the daemon to Thane's tome.
Arise: Thane can summon forth those that have been exorcised or bound to its tome for a brief period of time, though doing so causes their captured essence to return to hell.

Name: Set the Collector
Species: Humanoid - Ancient Scholar
Gender: Genderless
Class: C
Powers:
Ten-thousand Voices: Set speaks the dead languages bound to Thane's tome, invoking their ancient powers. A word such as "Umlŭčati" from Old Church Salvonic would bind the victim's lips shut.
Burdens of the Old Ones: Set invokes within daemons the suffering they underwent when first entering hell, should they be recorded in the archives of hell.
Living Totem: Set can act as a totem for Thane to use its magics through, allowing Thane to essentially be in two places at
The Echo of Eternity: As long Thane is whole, Set can be reincarnated, due to its being a living extension of Thane's tome.

Dehumanized

Rookery said
Hell YEAH!

Seconded.

Lookin' for some original stuff [Casual+, male characters requested]

If you're still lookin', I'd be interested in:
Princess x guard
Mage x hunter
Mage x knight