Marx

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Aulani Academy (Daemon Hunter Roleplay)

General Information
Name: Tichondrius Gresham
Nickname: Tychus
Age: 17
Birthday: June 13th
Gender: Male
Relationship status: Single
Year Level: Fourth Year

Eye colour: Greyish-Green
Hair colour: Brunette, changes frequently though
Skin colour: Pale white
Build of body: Lithe, slightly muscular

Personality
Likes: Stitching, Piercings, Vibrant Colours, Good Food, Friendly People, Daemons, Teaching, Hunting, Writing, Body Modification, Fetishes
Fears: Getting Stuck in Something, Blood, Crowded Places
Personal goals: Experiment with everything life throws at him and be happy

Relationships
Father: Mathew Gresham; author on the Philosophy of Daemons, S class daemon owner, ex-professor of Aulani, deceased.
Mother: Jenna Gresham; well known hunter of high-tier daemons, owner of two A class daemons, ex-professor of Aulani, deceased
Friends: Tristan Amaryllis Chase, Jason Chase, Leon Williams Thoreau

Classes
Compulsory Subjects:
1. Film writing (English)
2. Philosophy of Mathematics (Maths)
Selective Subjects:
1. Design (Fashion)
2. Photography
Specialized Subjects:
1. Advanced Healing 101
2. Daemonology
3. Dead Languages (T.A.)
4. High Physical Education

Background
Bio:
Tichondrius's life didn't really begin until he was already a grown boy, eleven years of age, when his father introduced him to a gift that he had been keeping hidden for his entire short life. Into his hands was placed a sword nearly as tall as himself, a scabbard worn and black as obsidian. "Draw the sword," his father goaded him, Tychus wasting to time drawing the blade from its pitch coloured home. The blade cut through air as it was freed, it seeming to absorb all light that touched it, the blade black as night, as if it were merely a shadow. "Say it," His father whispered, a grin growing across his face as he nudged Tychus, reminding him of what his father said earlier. "Wake up, Jin," Tichondrius said softly, receiving no response for several seconds. The blade began to shake in his hands and from it a figure, a shadow silhouette appeared before him. It extended a blackened hand, forming a gun with his fingers. "It means eight. He wants eight years, Tiche." Mathew said warmly, patting his son on the back. Tychus took his new friend/daemon's hand and after a sudden burning sensation in his palm, the contract was sealed and Jin now served the young boy named Tichondrius. This was unheard of at the time, someone as young as Tichondrius to come into possession of such a powerful daemon, though given his lineage, it was the least anyone had expected.

The year Tichondrius was meant to enter the academy, tragedy struck the family estate. A fire consumed the ancient home that had been passed from generation to generation, his mother and father perishing in the fire. Tichondrius would have died is it were not for Jin armouring him to help him escape the building. Though Tychus suffered horrendous damage to his throat having inhaled smoke, taking from him his voice. It was the night that he lost his parents that a lone figure arrived on the family estate. He wore a crisp suit that was brilliant tailored to his gaunt figure. His neck was long, impossibly so for a man, and in the stead of flesh was bone. "My child," The daemon cooed, approaching the freshly orphaned Tichondrius, "It would eternally shame me if I did not offer to you the same that I offered to your father some time ago. Twelve years be all I ask, in exchange I vow to you my eternal servitude. There be no master I see more fit." The being turned Tichondrius's blood cold, though in this moment he could only hope to find any help that would be given to him. He asked not the daemon's reasoning and the daemon never offered it. Thok would become an aloof presence in Tychus's life, a stark opposite to Jin's loving servitude. Now, four years later, Tichondrius has established a name for himself among daemon hunters, many of the experienced hunters quite excited to see what the heir to the Gresham name is capable of.

Other
Other: Tychus is a mute and carries around a pocketbook and pen. He is into body modifications and his most recent curiosity is cross-stitching in which one uses a thin thread and needle and stitches into the upper layers of the skin. He currently has an x pattern running up the sides of his neck in black thread and also has a little image of Gir riding a pig from Invader Zim stitched into his left forearm. He also has a tattoo spanning from just below his neck to his waist on his back.

---

Daemon - General Information

Physical Appearance

Thok, the Spinner of Lies

Name: Thok
Species: Sin Incarnation
Gender: Refers to self as Male
Class: A
Powers:

• Lust: Thok manipulates hormonal secretions in his target, clouding its mind with lustful thoughts.


• Greed: Thok plagues the mind of his target with images of what they desire most, taunting them with it, always keeping it out of their reach.


• Gluttony: Thok warps a daemon or human's mind with an insatiable appetite, often times causing them to devour everything they can until their stomach ruptures.


• Sloth: Thok instills lethargy in a being's body, causing its body to become like lead and fills them with the sensation of sleep deprivation.


• Wrath: Thok infuses an ally or himself with a burst of bloodlust, strengthening and enraging them. While in this state, they are inconsolable and best avoided by both friend and foe, for all are foes in their eyes.


• Envy: Thok turns a being against its comrades, filling it with animosity toward their allies's achievements.


• Vainglory: The sufferer is filled with the desire to boast all which they have done, blinding them with self love.


• Acedia: The afflicted is incapable of performing that which needs to be done, be it feed its child or deliver a finishing blow


• Pride: A truly dangerous power, one which floods the afflicted with every sin. The end result is almost assuredly death, though before death takes a hold of them they are a danger to all who surround them. This should be reserved for the most dire of situations.

---

Daemon - General Information

Physical Appearance

Jin, the Living Weapon

Name: Jin
Species: Living Weapon
Gender: Genderless
Class: B
Powers:

• Metamorphosis: Jin takes a humanoid form, his being be released from the scabbard it is contained in. Unless he metamorphosises, he remains a sword hanging from Tychus's hip.


• Guardian: Jin's hollow body forms amalgamates around Tychus's to act as armour. Doing so merges their minds allowing telepathic communication and together they share their strength. It requires an absolute trust by both parties for this to properly work. When in this state, Tychus can speak through Jin.


• Serene Step: Jin finds his resolve, melting away all outside distractions to sharpen his focus.


• Whirling Dervish: Jin's torso spins at a high velocity, allowing him to swing his sword in a 360 degree angle turning him into a veritable bladestorm.


• Fan of Knives: Jin charges his sword, causing it to burst outward in a flurry of shards. After several minutes the shards will fully return and reform the blade. This is a last resort and surprise tactic.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Last I checked, the RP's open so I'd say make a character and see if ya make it in.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Patience, young padawan.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Don't worry chief. Rome wasn't built in a day and your post doesn't have to be.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Alrighty. 2 down 2 to go (I'm just gonna cut the other two for now). Sorry about my snails pace. Uni is doing its best to consume all of the time I have.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Personal Information
Name: Thanatos
Alias: Nathaniel Hurst
Gender: Male

Godly Appearance:


Reaper Appearance:


Symbol:


Family
Father: Erebos, Ἔρεβος
Mother: Nyx, Νύξ
Children: Thaddeus Gresham Kingsley

General Information
Likes: His work, The dead of night, Meat, Getting his way
Dislikes: His blunders, The other gods, His offspring, Things without use
Talents: No discernible talents

Theme Song:


Weapon Information
Weapon Name: Αγγίξτε, Touch
Weapon Type: Biological
Attributes: Through his will and a simple touch, life can slip from the afflicted in the flash of an eye.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Auguste

She told him she understood, though Auguste had a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that told him she didn't. As she slipped out from his grasp, he sighed softly, watching her speak though her voice was muffled from the roaring sounds of music and conversation. He didn't need to be able to hear her to know what she was saying though. She was going to leave and that was enough to take the wind out of his sails. He said nothing to her, choosing to watch her as an interesting expression flashed across her face. Sadness? Disgust? Disappointment? Betrayal? Perhaps a mixture of the four and more. Auguste faded into the crowd, his eyes never leaving the girl with cotton candy coloured hair who made her way toward a rival of Auguste, his future play-thing, the Ares boy that just arrived early today. He hadn't caught the kid's name, though he knew that the boy made a decent impression on his dear Syl, though that impression seemed to have decayed rather rapidly with the boy making moves on a certain red-headed girl that had been one of Auguste's victims earlier today. Always interesting to see all of the pies Auguste had dipped his fingers in, he thought with a soft grin, licking his lips as his libido that was far from finite flared up. A curse of his lineage, really.

As Syl made her way out of the part, Auguste slipped through the crowd, ignoring any who called out to him, his interest in the social event rapidly decaying. He tailed the pink haired girl, saying nothing and walking in such a way that his feet made as little noise as possible. When she made it to her cabin, she quickly went to lock her window, dropping Auguste's spirit a bit. He'd have to use the front door, though her closing the window was certainly a sign that she wanted to be alone. Auguste stepped slowly into her cabin, listening for the sound of anyone beyond her, no sign of her recently acquired brother. That'd make things a bit easier he supposed. "Hey Syl," Auguste called out, putting a hand onto her bedroom door. He rapt his knuckles on the door slowly, before sitting down in front of her door, putting his back to it. "You probably want to be alone right now, and that's okay, but if you need someone to talk to. If you need a shoulder to cry on. Or if you just want someone to be around, I'll be right here all night." Auguste spoke slowly, his voice warm and gentle, his eyes closing as he leaned his head against the door. Hopefully he'd have the good fortune of getting to spend some time with her, help her get this behind her. A long sigh dragged out of him as he recalled the Ares boy; He had little hope that the Fates would favour him tonight.

---

Thane

"You didn't have to leave too," Thane said softly as they returned to the cabin, her hands pressing against his jacket, pulling it off of him. He wiggled his wrists free of the sleeves and relinquished it to her. Running a hand through his hair, a few droplets of Kindle's beer dripped down to his cheek. He frowned slightly, his expression softening when he heard Erin's voice. "That's not a bad idea," he nodded, begging to peel off his sticky shirt as he made his way across the living room to his bathroom. He flung the beer touched shirt into his hamper, snagging a plain white t-shirt from his dresser on his way to the shower. Thane cranked the shower up to just shy of its hottest, the bathroom flooding with steam as he got into the buff, peeled off the bandages and hopped into the shower.

As he stood in the near scalding water that washed away any remnant of liquor, his eyes drifted down to the jet black arm that seemed to have been freshly dipped in a vat of ink. The body of blackness began from his shoulder and extended down to his fingertips, no trace of his pale skin visible in the sea of blackness, though that was not where his curse ended. Tendrils like arms extended from his blacked limb across his skin, a single tendril reaching out to where his heart is. Another tendril ran down his side, ending at his hip, while the last reached along his back, just below his neck, coming to a stop just before his other shoulder. His eyes closed tightly and for a few minutes he just stood in silence, wanting to just will the tendrils of death away.

When Thane emerged from his room sometime later he stopped by the back of the couch, scratching the back of his head as he looked around and found Erin. "Hey," he said simply, wanting to draw her attention. He wore blue jeans and had his shirt draped over his right shoulder as if it were an afterthought, the spreading black tendrils fully visible for her to see. Since they met, he had always been sure to wear something that covered the blighted arm, as well as a t-shirt, whenever his room was unlocked or he was outside of it. He had realised earlier that night that they had been getting too close and when looking at his ailment, he knew that he would have to show it to her. Show that they couldn't get too close. That he was dangerous. "It spreads whenever I let myself well up with emotion," Thane spoke slowly as he went about throwing a shirt on, the black tendrils still slightly visible beneath his shirt, "I'm not sure I'll be safe to be around much longer and well..." Thane paused, biting his lip, not wanting to admit why as he dropped down onto the couch, the fingers of his right hand restlessly drumming away on his knee, "I'm afraid of hurting you."

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Vicier said
NAWWE KINDLE IS SO FRIGGEN CUTE!!!!!!!!!

Seconded.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Thur we go. Auguste's part of my post is up.

June 16th.

Happy almost birthday Fell. Expect Auguste to give Connor plenty of birthday spankings.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Still waiting on those lottery numbers from the future, Vicier, dear.