Marx

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

Tichondrius's eyes were glued on the pale girl as she removed each of her necklaces, her albino snake slinking down her arm as she finished removing her accessories and removed the collar from his hand. His eyes almost glowed with excitement as she brought the collar up to her neck, the dark supple leather contrasting sharply to her neon white skin, as if it were being showcased before him. He hadn't realised she was speaking until the word 'look, her sing-songy voice snatching up his attention. He absolutely loved the look of it, though it could've been just a smidge tighter. A dull rising pain began to build in his chest, rising through his throat, drawing his attention to the fact that he had been holding his breath the entire time. 'Huh', the thought went through his mind, 'I don't normally do that now, do I?'

Tychus's hands went to his notebook, his pen quickly dancing across the page as he heard the daemon compliment his work, giving him a strange sense of satisfaction. If it could please a daemon, then it was usually decent work. He could find happiness in knowing that the wolf-like familiar to the pale girl appreciated his work. When Tychus looked up from his notebook, having heard what she had to say, he frowned slightly watching her take her leave from the room to wait for him to model for her. 'Fair is fair, I suppose', his frown slowly morphed into a small smile as a devious thought flickered through his mind, reminding him of something he really should've mentioned to the girl. He had lost the key to that lock some time ago, so for the time being she couldn't exactly get out of it without cutting it off, which could be dangerous and would certainly be a pain in the ass.

A soft sound, almost like a whisper, caught his ear and drew his attention to Rin's forgotten possession. The white snake which was clearly looking for a ride. Tychus snickered quietly and quickly threw the scabbard containing Jin over his shoulder as he made he way to the snake, carefully bringing its head up to his face. It shot it's tongue out at him, Tychus happily replying with a flicker of his own tongue. The snake seemed to accept the gesture and lurched forward onto his shoulder, curling around the scabbard of Jin, its head resting on the buttcap of Jin. Tychus made his way out into the arm room, mildly amused that the snake was attracted to the warmth that pulsated from Jin's dormant state. It seemed his daemonic friend had a use even when asleep.

Tychus joined up with Rin and the daemon dog, move to where the daemon had been sitting earlier. He looked around, biting his lip as he thought of what might work best for her, a flash of inspiration shooting through his bright eyes. He turned his back to the girl and removed the scabbard from his shoulder, placing it on the ground for a moment, being mindful of both the snake and his daemon. His hands shot up to his waist and in quick motion he pulled the sweater off, dropping it a few feet to his left, revealing the intricate trash polka tattoo that sprawled across his back. He then brought the scabbard back up, sliding his arm through the strap and letting it hang from his left shoulder, the snake still comfortably curled around the sword. He looked back toward Rin, smiling warmly as made an "OK?" with his hand, hoping that it was passable to the young artist.

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

Auguste

"Christ, mate. Lay off it will you?" Auguste practically groaned as the jersey shore knock off ran over and grabbed Syl's arm, dragging her away from him. His eyes rolled as he referred to her as Beautiful and looked around for a place to sit down, not sure he could handle being too close to this train wreck. "It's getting pathetic at this point," He sighed now as he took a seat on a nearby low lying wall, his fingers drumming his knee in impatience as he listened to the boy drone on about love spells or something. 'If that were the case then I'd be under one as well, you mong' Auguste thought as his eyes watched over the two, noticing with a small tinge of amusement that the boy was carefully eyeing him, as if he were threatened by Auguste's sheer existence. He stifled a laugh and looked away from the two, shaking his head as he did so, unable to take watching this boy anymore. It was bad and almost physically pained him to watch at this point. The fact that the boy was a brother in law of his was enough to make his stomach churn and this display certainly wasn't helping.

Auguste put a hand to his forehead his hand covering his eyes as the two talked as he patiently waited for the little travesty before him to end when Syl suddenly spoke up, mentioned that a tour would have to wait. "I'm sorry, repea-" Auguste began, the world around him collapsing into dust in an instant's notice, the breath being torn from his chest. Auguste shot straight up in his actual body, finding himself in a cavern surrounded by other demigods. "Interesting..." he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet before giving Syl a hand. A small yawn slipped from between his lips as he took in his surrounding with a grim sense of amusement. "So then, what's the game we're to play?"

---

Mr D

Dionysus had a mouth full of turkey, his jaws haphazardly slapping together as bits of masticated food sprayed out, his temper particularly foul, which was unusual for him since he was forced to watch over the damned camp. There was a knock at his door which drew a heavy sigh from his stuffed face as he rotated to see who it was. If it was the brat from earlier who was looking to start a fire, he'd have to take a moment to grind her bones into dust and use it to flavor his miserable sodas. But no, it was not someone he could take out the rage born of the bland quasi-bureaucratic lifestyle subjected upon him. It was his daughter, his pride and joy, the apple of his eye, if only he could remember which one she was. Hmm, that part always was a pickle wasn't it? Susan? No, too formal. Jennifer? No, he'd of laughed at the sight of her. Adriana? We're getting closer. Well what of it, he could just refer to her as his child. That would do, right?

“Dad? Hey dad, I got those wines you were looking for.” the words grinded on him like nails against a chalkboard, the word wine alone dancing back and forth, mocking him. Perhaps she wasn't meant to be his daughter for much longer, tempting him with an apple straight from the garden of eve. No, no. Zeus still frowned upon prolicide, didn't he? Damn shame, would've solved this problem. Would've solved most of his problems, nay all of his problems. But what was one to do? There was a parental duty to be upheld and Dionysus was in the spotlight. "Ah, thank you my dear." He grinned, resisting the urge to ask her why she didn't just grab him a bottle of sand in their stead. Would've tasted the same, that's for damn sure. He massive fingers drummed upon his desk, beckoning her over, "I'll take those off your hands. You can even keep a bottle for yourself and your friends as a thanks from dear old dad." His grin faltered slightly as he resisted the urge to throw his table at the kid and scream "Shoo!" as one would a rabid cat. Perhaps she'd leave without him having to fall prey to his own madness.

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

"Sure you will," He chuckled softly at her, his eyes following her figure as she walked away from him. He could hear her moving around once she was out of sight, the floorboards creaking with every step she took. Her voice reached out to him from deeper within the cabin, her voice filling his ears, telling him that she didn't like 'these' stupid games. What games? Thane thought with a furrowed brow. "I'm not doing anything, he called out to her, her response being that whatever it was wasn't funny. The hair on his neck began to rise as he realised that there was something actually happening near her. "Erin, ho-" He began, his words being muffled as a blacked hand clamped down onto his mouth, the fingers digging into his flesh liked daggers. Other hands burst forth from behind him, grabbing onto his limbs and torso, enveloping him in a mass of wriggling shades until he was consumed by darkness before simply vanishing from sight into his own shadow.

Blackness flooded his vision, not from his sight being obscured, but from the environment he was within. He tried to move his hand in front of his face, only to find that his hands were bound to unseen manacles hanging from either a wall or posts, keeping him stretched out like a T. "Erin?" he called out into the darkness, hearing his voice carry on indefinitely, becoming softer and softer until it faded into nothingness. "Close," a voice bounced back to him, it raspy and thick as if the speaker's mouth was filled with jam and their throat parched. Steps echoed throughout the void, each one closer and closer, louder and louder, more and more resolute than the last. It wasn't until the speaker was just before him, mere inches from his face that it was clear who it was that had captured him. "Hello, father." Thane said flatly, no hint of love within his voice. No hint of any positive emotion really.

"My boy," the voice returned, patting Thane on the cheek as if he were a puppy properly performing a trick, "So glad you remember me so fondly." The speaker, Thanatos, was now face to face with Thane, his one eye glaring brightly into Thane's two. "How've you been, boy. You seldom write me, I get worried." The god mocked grief, his breath flooding Thane's noise, the scent of sulfur and rotting meats flooding his senses. A hand grabbed onto Thane's hair, the skin like sandpaper to his scalp. "I see that you've been in control of yourself, boy. The touch has hardly spread. At this rate I worry you'll never live up to any of our expectations." Thanatos breathed in almost a whisper, his grip on Thane's hair tightening, threatening to tear the follicles from their roots. The touch of Thanatos began to burn like boiling oil on Thane's scalp, a spike of pain jolting through him as if a spike were driven directly into his skull. "You feel that, boy. That's the touch of death itself." Thanatos growled like a hound into Thane's ear, jerking Thane's head back with a sharp tug before releasing him, the hand moving to tightly grasp Thane's throat. "Believe me, boy. You'll be of use to me yet. If you were a bit less eager to disappoint me, this would be a good deal easier." The hand of Death went on, his grip never lessening as Thane began to vainly kick and sharply gasp under the god's grasp. "You'll learn soon enough what's been done, boy. Now go play with the other brats and do your best not to die. I'm in no mood for another failure." Thane last heard, consciousness drifting away as darkness clouded his mind.

Thane awoke with a sharp gasp in a new world of darkness, filled with other campers, most of which Thane wasn't overly keen on. To those around him he had emerged from a shadow, though as far as Thane was aware, he had been standing in the chasm for an indefinite time. The pain in his head had lessened now to a sharp headache, nothing akin to the intense migraine from earlier. His eyes slowly blinked and as he always did, he ran a hand through his hair as if it would clear his head. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on, though if he had any guess it would be a god fucking with them, which usually meant life or death. And he had already experienced a bit of that with his own father. Thane slowly made his way over to Erin who was by a sleeping Syl. "You alright?" He weakly asked, his body already drained of energy from his father's little visit. He was still unaware to the change his father had made, his hair now white as bone, while the white of his left eye was black as night. A new blacked tendril having crawled up the back of his neck, through his hair and directly down to his eye, blighting everything it its path. Thanatos's little touch aiding in the spreading of Thane's ailment.

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

Patience is one of the greatest virtues my friend.

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

Tichondrius looked up suddenly when he heard a sharp yelp from the doorway, the pale white artsy girl from earlier the source of the commotion. Her familiar let forth a guffaw, amusing Tychus with the thought that it must have been the one behind making her squeal. When she greeted him, adding in a quick apology for her sudden interruption he nodded politely, flashing a warm smile toward her. The moment she mentioned her name, Rin, he recalled reading her name on the roster for the dead languages course he was assisting in. He himself was fluent in the two languages being taught to entry level dead language students, as well as two other upper level languages, and so it was likely he'd be directly instructing students from time to time. That, in effect, made the girl standing before him one of his students. Interesting... the thought floated through his mind as she went on, asking if she could draw him or take a photograph of him. The comment on him being beautiful brought a shy smile from him, the idea of being called beautiful somewhat embarrassing to him. Most people thought he was strange looking, an oddity. This was a change of pace he could get behind.

The girl's bond with her daemon was clear and almost charming, the playful banter between them reminding him of his first daemon, Jin, who was sitting on the table right beside him. He wouldn't bother to wake Jin up though, not unless it became necessary to do so. When he caught Rin's eyes homing in on the collar, he immediately assumed she'd be taken aback by it, though her singsongy voice asking if he had made it caught him further off guard. Perhaps he could get along with her well enough. She had yet to be terribly put off by any of his passive mannerisms. Jin held up a single finger to say 'one moment' before sliding off of the table, collar still in hand. He quickly rifled through the box, removing a dark brown leather notebook packed with mostly filled in tan pages that held notes he wrote to himself and to others, diagrams of designs, ingredient lists for meals, supply lists, addresses to ship to, and so on. It was one of many dozen that filled his closet, each of the predecessors filled to the brim with black ink. His hand then slipped into his pocket, producing a jade coloured fountain pen.

Tychus abandoned the collar on the table and held the notebook with one hand, opening it carefully to a blank page with his thumb. His other hand brought down the nib of the pen, writing quickly and fluidly, his pen darting across the page in a swift and almost showy manner, his stone gray eyes never leaving the page. The moment he lifted the pen from the paper, he rotated the notebook to her, letting her see what he had written:

"Hi, I'm Tichondrius Gresham (I also answer to Tychus), a fourth year and the TA for your Dead Language class. I'm also a mute, hence the writing.

I'd love to be drawn by you, but on one condition: I want you to model the collar I just made."

He looked from the book to her, reaching over and grabbing the collar with his free hand while he held the notebook out for her to read. After giving her enough time to read the writing, he took a step toward her, holding out the collar to her, offering it to her. This thumb was pressed gently against the soft almost silky leather that lined the inside and in his palm was also the lock to the collar that he expected her to put on as well so that the collar wouldn't simply fall off. The lock itself was a little embarrassing for him to hold, it being a small brass heart with a keyhole meant to only be opened by the owner of the key. Tichondrius bit down softly on his bottom lip, anticipating rejection on his offer, doing his best to hold back embarrassment.

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

Don't tempt me, Fireyfly. I'll make Caien the object of Auguste's desire out of spite.

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

Fieryfly said
He should get a releationship with a tree...

One word: Splinters

Fieryfly said
He should get a releationship with a... river.

Water makes bad lubrication, mate.

Fieryfly said
I am now picturing Auguste flirting with all the people of camp at the same time and with all the dryads and nymphs and naiads he can find.

Now this I think Auguste can get behind. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Fell said
Wait... I just realized... Does everyone include... Mr. D?... ... ...

Auguste does have standards.

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

Well, bad news for Raleigh then. Auguste likes everyone.

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

As long as two people have posted after you, you're in the green to post.

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

Tichondrius started today the same way he started most days. Rolling out of bed, a bit too late, making a promise that next morning would be different. Next morning he'd wake up early. Maybe even as early as 11AM. Maybe. Maybe not. Definitely not. The lithe young man sat up in his bed, draping his legs over the side and planting his feet down onto the soft blue carpet. Everything had been the way he had left it since last night. Blinds sealed tightly. Boxed packed up and ready for shipping. Jin within his scabbard, sitting on his desk just behind his laptop. Thok was no where in sight, though he seldom was. Thok had certain timeliness to him in that he was only ever around when he was needed. Tychus had never ventured a guess as to what it was Thok was always doing and Thok was not the type to put forth any details. He was a secretive daemon whose power was only surpassed by his aloofness.

Tychus's arms lurched into the air as he back arched and a raspy yawn crawled out of his throat, the closest noise he could make to any language. That was a bit of irony in and of itself. Dead Language aficionados were rare enough. Mute Dead Language aficionados were entirely unheard of, beyond himself that is. Tychus slowly pulled himself out of his bed, taking a minute to make it look halfway decent before bothering to grab a pair of clothes. What he wore was simple enough. Just a buttoned high neck grey woolen sweater and a pair of blue jeans. He slipped on a pair of socks and dress shoes, not because he was looking to be fancy but because they were the only comfortable pair of shoes he owned. The next part of his morning (read;Afternoon) ritual was to put in his metal gauges and both of the ring piercings that went into his lips. Then came the quick checking up on the stitching in his neck, which was holding up nicely, same with the Gir stitch on his forearm. They stitching would probably stay good for another week or so at the least. Now the only question was; Is brown still good? He wondered for a moment if he wanted to dye his hair before shrugging, figuring something plain would do for now. All of the new students would be arriving today and many second years would be meeting/seeing him for the first time in the next few days. It'd be best to ease them into the oddity that was Tichondrius. The stitching into his skin was already enough to make most people uncomfortable after all.

"Hmm..." Tychus let out as he dropped onto the stool before his laptop, seeing a single new email. His eyes quickly skimmed through the letter, which came from a frequent customer from his unique fashion website. By unique, it was more that Tichondrius enjoyed creating oddities and recently had stumbled into making fetish gear, which was making him a pretty penny thanks to the world wide web. Today his only job was to make a collar, which was a simple quick job, especially in the hands of someone who could expertly sew threads into his own skin. Tychus hopped up from his seat, shoving the stool under his desk as he went to grab Jin, taking the sling attached to the scabbard and throwing it over his shoulder. Tychus took a moment to grab a box that had his tools and the material he usually worked with and did a quick once over with his eyes before being satisfied with what he had.

Tychus made his way from the small T.A. dorm building that sat by the woods the encircled the academy, not bothering to close the door on his way out, his hands dedicated to carrying his box of goodies. The sight of a sword wielding pretty boy with a habit for body modification drew plenty of wayward glances as he cut through the campus and made his way into the art studio where he was, while not exactly vanilla, less remarkable. The arts tended to draw in the types of people that would be considered traditionally weird and it was in the arts center that Tichondrius felt most at home. As he made his way through the area where painters congregated, a land of easels and spilled paint, Tichondrius passed by a girl all in white with hair and skin like snow, drawing her daemon who softly sung a melancholy song he was unfamiliar with. Silently he stood off to the right behind the girl, watching her draw the beast in stunning accuracy, taking time to appreciate what it was she was doing. As the song drew to an end, the girl seemed eager to share her drawing with the singing wolf and with that, Tychus took his leave. It was either that or stand there like an idiot, unable to communicate thanks to the damned box his hands were busy with.

With every step, Jin slapped against his shoulder-blade, which Tychus could only assume would wake up the poor daemon. As soon as he slipped into the design studio he rented out within the design center, he dropped the box by the large wooden table where he'd be doing most of his work and took a moment to lay Jin onto the table. His fingers gently ran along the scabbard letting Jin know he was free to watch, not that this was an unusual occurrence. Jin was the closest thing Tychus had to family now and the deep bond formed from melding their consciousness whenever Jin armoured him had only served to bolster their bond. Tychus then quickly dropped down to the box, fishing out a thin sheet of supple leather, a sheet of hardened leather, a pair of large steel scissors, and his leather working knife, brass single hole collar piece to lock the collar.

Tychus didn't bother to look around, already entering work-mode as he slammed the leather working knife down onto the hard black leather, quickly making a strip that was almost perfectly straight. He still needed practice with his technique, though to the untrained eye it was a flawlessly straight strip and that was more than enough for today. Tychus brought the strip over to a measuring template cut into the table and went about trimming it slightly to fit the neck of who would be wearing it. Like a machine, he then grabbed the soft leather and quickly trimmed through it, tossing the left over leather into a pile. Carefully he folded the leather and aligned it with the leather strip before applying glue to the folded portion. He bent the strip and then went about pressing in the smooth leather, before cutting off any excess.

A small smile crept across Tichondrius's face as he admired his handiwork and made his way over to the sewing machine where he would then sew it up from the rough portion, using a read thread to make the black leather pop more. His lines were straight and smooth, a product of his countless hours with needlework over the past few years. Last but not least was the using of a mallet and pick to cut a hole where the collar piece would go in to. The final bit was quick and the end result was exactly what he had in mind. Now he just needed to see if it was pleasant enough to wear, though mostly he just wanted to see someone wear it before he sent it off. Tichondrius dumped the scraps into his box and plopped down onto the table next to Jin, grabbing the collar and its little heart shaped lock. Now he just needed to find someone to wear it. Perhaps that artsy girl with the wolf could wear it... Or I could always just go to Tristan. She's always been bad at saying no, hasn't she? Tychus couldn't help but smile at his thoughts, wondering if he should just keep this collar for himself and tell his client that he can't help him.