High Archon Gabranth
Lucas Kellan
Pathas Member
- Last Seen: 9 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 120 (0.03 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Pathas 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Here's my character!
High Archon Gabranth
Lucas Kellan
High Archon Gabranth
Lucas Kellan
Kriska Ackerman
Age: 25 (Human-wise) 489 (Demon-wise)
Appearance:
Age: 25 (Human-wise) 489 (Demon-wise)
Appearance:
Flames of War seems like a heck of fun, if you're still looking for that.
Bump. Added a very section to this thread.
It was a cold night. Rain pattered against the windows as the day slowly evolved into the tint of dusk. All was relatively normal in the small city in Texas — save for the sirens of emergency personnel. Erica had come home earlier than usual tonight. Typically, she’d be heads deep in newly found data concerning the research she was doing. Having come back from the United Kingdom with Jackson, she received a grant to continue her work at the University of Texas — Austin. It was one of the factors that moved the two out here in the first place. Initially, it was difficult due to culture differences and the manner of speech. However, like all things, people adapt. No matter the circumstance, they adapted to fit in.
Leaning against the arm rest of the living room couch, Erica sat with feet tucked underneath her as she watched the television screen. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair tied in a neat ponytail. She could imagine the looks on her colleagues faces if they saw her outside of her professional ware. Pure scandalous. The thought was almost too comical to bear.
For the past few months, what had started out as isolated incidents slowly built up to multi-state occurrences. Scientist appeared on the morning and evening news assuring the public that it wasn’t something to be concerned about. Speculation of excessive drug use, mental instability, and many more wild theories flooded the air. There were even talks of governmental conspiracy. Something along the lines of fixing instability to strengthen governmental regulations. How stupid Erica thought. She had witnessed several cases in the past that depicted these traits; however, none of them were like this. This was an entirely different beasts. And definitely not a conspiracy.
The news anchor zoomed into focus as the commercial break ended. His normally spunky energy gone. Fatigued eyes stared out as he straightened his papers. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to Channel 7 news,” he said. “More updates coming in concerning the recent string of events of horrific outbreaks of violence across the United States. What the CDC is now labeling as an aggravated gene evolution of the flu has spread through the majority of the Eastern Seaboard as well as the northern part of Texas.
“Authorities have asked all civilians to report any individuals exhibiting the symptoms that include: slurred speech, memory loss, dementia, and any form of sporadic violence. If you encounter said individual, stay indoors and call emergency personnel immediately. Those affected with these symptoms are to be considered dangerous…”
A passing siren drew Erica’s attention away form the television as the apartment window basked in the colors of blue and red. She heard footsteps behind her as she felt Jackson’s passing hand on her shoulder. A slow spread of relief calmed her nerves. She hoped all of this would blow over soon. Their neighborhood returning to its tranquility.
Moments later, she heard Jackson call out from the kitchen.
"It's crazy out there," Jackson called to Erica, re-emerging from the kitchen a minute later with a packet of crisps in hand. “Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what all these ambulances are about."
“I don’t think its the weather that’s got everyone in a fuss, Jackson,” she said. “Remember that crazy flu thing that’s been on the news? They say it’s in the northern part of Texas. I don’t like this one bit. Got a call from mom earlier. She said it’s there too.”
She felt the area next to her depress as Jackson sat down next to her, opening a bag of chips. Vinegar and salt. Definitely not what she would’ve picked, but to each their own. She shifted as she learned against Jackson’s strong shoulders and snuggled in until she was comfortable. “More are going to he hospital everyday,” she said more so to herself. “The CDC said something about this being the flu. Can you believe that? If anything, the symptoms hint more so to hints of psychopathical tendencies mixed in with hints of schizophrenia. Neurotransmitter imbalance? The aggression and lack of the necessity of sleep. Serotonin? Maybe… Sorry. Geek talk.”
A loud rumble shook the room as the power went out. Erica looked around as she felt Jackson squeeze her hand reassuringly. “The storm’s really picking up,” she said. “I’ll go fish out the flashlights. Just in case. Wouldn’t want to stump a toe, if the lights go out, no?”
Before she could get up, the TV screen flickered off then back on. A high pitched alarm came from the speakers. Emergency Broadcast flashed across the screen. Erica stopped cold. Everything else seemed non-important as her attention went straight to those blocky, legible letters.
She squinted her eyes to read the screen. “Um … something about Texas National Guard being deployed. My god…” She sat up straighter as she re-read the reoccurring message. “They’re implementing quarantine around a number of counties. Hold on. Holy crap! Jackson, our county’s on the list. Wha—“
Erica jumped as a loud bang slammed against the apartment door. She stared at the door and then at Jackson. The banging continued as she got to her feet. She mouthed to Jackson: What should we do?
The pounding continued as the hinges of the door began to creak. Every single small hair on Erica’s neck stood on end. A guttural, wrenching scream came moments later. It was a terrible sound, something that was almost too unique to compare to. It sounded like a wounded animal, desperate to tear into its awaiting meal. A cold trickle creeped down her spine. She knew that feeling. Fear churned inside her.
Leaning against the arm rest of the living room couch, Erica sat with feet tucked underneath her as she watched the television screen. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair tied in a neat ponytail. She could imagine the looks on her colleagues faces if they saw her outside of her professional ware. Pure scandalous. The thought was almost too comical to bear.
For the past few months, what had started out as isolated incidents slowly built up to multi-state occurrences. Scientist appeared on the morning and evening news assuring the public that it wasn’t something to be concerned about. Speculation of excessive drug use, mental instability, and many more wild theories flooded the air. There were even talks of governmental conspiracy. Something along the lines of fixing instability to strengthen governmental regulations. How stupid Erica thought. She had witnessed several cases in the past that depicted these traits; however, none of them were like this. This was an entirely different beasts. And definitely not a conspiracy.
The news anchor zoomed into focus as the commercial break ended. His normally spunky energy gone. Fatigued eyes stared out as he straightened his papers. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to Channel 7 news,” he said. “More updates coming in concerning the recent string of events of horrific outbreaks of violence across the United States. What the CDC is now labeling as an aggravated gene evolution of the flu has spread through the majority of the Eastern Seaboard as well as the northern part of Texas.
“Authorities have asked all civilians to report any individuals exhibiting the symptoms that include: slurred speech, memory loss, dementia, and any form of sporadic violence. If you encounter said individual, stay indoors and call emergency personnel immediately. Those affected with these symptoms are to be considered dangerous…”
A passing siren drew Erica’s attention away form the television as the apartment window basked in the colors of blue and red. She heard footsteps behind her as she felt Jackson’s passing hand on her shoulder. A slow spread of relief calmed her nerves. She hoped all of this would blow over soon. Their neighborhood returning to its tranquility.
Moments later, she heard Jackson call out from the kitchen.
"It's crazy out there," Jackson called to Erica, re-emerging from the kitchen a minute later with a packet of crisps in hand. “Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what all these ambulances are about."
“I don’t think its the weather that’s got everyone in a fuss, Jackson,” she said. “Remember that crazy flu thing that’s been on the news? They say it’s in the northern part of Texas. I don’t like this one bit. Got a call from mom earlier. She said it’s there too.”
She felt the area next to her depress as Jackson sat down next to her, opening a bag of chips. Vinegar and salt. Definitely not what she would’ve picked, but to each their own. She shifted as she learned against Jackson’s strong shoulders and snuggled in until she was comfortable. “More are going to he hospital everyday,” she said more so to herself. “The CDC said something about this being the flu. Can you believe that? If anything, the symptoms hint more so to hints of psychopathical tendencies mixed in with hints of schizophrenia. Neurotransmitter imbalance? The aggression and lack of the necessity of sleep. Serotonin? Maybe… Sorry. Geek talk.”
A loud rumble shook the room as the power went out. Erica looked around as she felt Jackson squeeze her hand reassuringly. “The storm’s really picking up,” she said. “I’ll go fish out the flashlights. Just in case. Wouldn’t want to stump a toe, if the lights go out, no?”
Before she could get up, the TV screen flickered off then back on. A high pitched alarm came from the speakers. Emergency Broadcast flashed across the screen. Erica stopped cold. Everything else seemed non-important as her attention went straight to those blocky, legible letters.
She squinted her eyes to read the screen. “Um … something about Texas National Guard being deployed. My god…” She sat up straighter as she re-read the reoccurring message. “They’re implementing quarantine around a number of counties. Hold on. Holy crap! Jackson, our county’s on the list. Wha—“
Erica jumped as a loud bang slammed against the apartment door. She stared at the door and then at Jackson. The banging continued as she got to her feet. She mouthed to Jackson: What should we do?
The pounding continued as the hinges of the door began to creak. Every single small hair on Erica’s neck stood on end. A guttural, wrenching scream came moments later. It was a terrible sound, something that was almost too unique to compare to. It sounded like a wounded animal, desperate to tear into its awaiting meal. A cold trickle creeped down her spine. She knew that feeling. Fear churned inside her.
If Twist of Fate opens up again, please let me know. I don't usually do supernatural story lines, but that one interests me a lot ^^!
A jovial atmosphere hung over the great hall. To a muggle, if they were to witness this by chance, special effects would have been their go to. With the numerous illuminating pumpkins, spiders spinning their webs high above, and various other decor, it was all quite overwhelming. However, special effects was hardly the explanation. Magic. To those who were privileged to have magic run in their family, it was through magic that a great many of these things could happen. However, even within the boon of magic, filthy blood still existed.
Detric sat at the Slytherin House table. He picked haphazardly at a piece of half-eaten pumpkin pie. The elves had done an adequate job at preparing the dish, but something didn’t strike him correct. There was a peculiar aftertaste. It left him in a sour mood.
He stared to his right as Stefan, his close friend, recounted the last Quidditch match between Syltherin and Ravenclaw. “That pretty little Ravenclaw took the bludger hard,” Stefan said. He was one of the Beaters on the team. While the nature of the position was indeed adversarial, Stefan’s vigor as a beater was borderline mad. “Broke the tie then. Shouldn’t have happened against the filthy mudbloods. Keeper held them off. But Detric here kept our winning streak going. Took the snitch right out of the Ravenclaw’s nose. Spectacular.”
Detric nodded to the group of listeners. “I fear Stefan may be exaggerating things a tad” he said. “The seeker certainly had skill. However, it seems I held the upper hand. By the way Stefan, the Captain mentioned extra practice for the beaters. How goes it?”
“Ulric took the bludger to his head. Went straight to the infirmary,” Stefan said. He took a sip from his goblet. “After we got him awake, we continued. Next game is against Gryffindor. We’ll knock ’em down. You just focus on that snitch.”
Before Detric had the chance to respond, the room grew hushed as the grand hall’s door swung open. Emerging from the doors were several dancers dressed in beautiful black dresses. The girl’s swirled in circle’s as the dresses followed their motion. Tiny diamond-like things embroidered into them shimmered from the candle’s light sending a thousand tiny flickers in each direction.
Coming from an affluent pure blood family, dancing was no foreign task to Detric. In fact, each month, a ball including close family friends and strangers alike was thrown. Detric often entertained a dance or two with ladies who showed interest in him. Gathering happenings within his community was also a favorite activity of his. He would converse with Lady Comstock about her dealings with the new and improved Ministry of Magic, Sir Wilhelm Laughlin and his close acquaintances in the reformed Auror program — even Luke Watkins with his booming business in Diagon Alley.
As the sudden dance neared its climax, the dancers suddenly stopped. Detric watched as the diamonds on their dresses floated up towards the ceiling. Each hung there in brilliant light. Spectacular. When the song ended, the whole room was engulfed in ethereal light. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his fellow Slytherin’s shield their eyes from the light. However, he kept looking on, engulfed in all its majesty. Soon his eyes shifted to a girl in particular. A dancer with lush, black hair.
Breaking the tranquility, Stefan scoffed indignantly. “Trying to blind us with their stupid light tricks, are they?” he said. Several others from the table agreed as crude remarks were given. “Heard that some of those Hufflepuff girls — the ones dancing — are filthy, blood tainted mudbloods. Defiling this school with their steps. Disgusting. My family wouldn’t stand for this. You listening, Detric?”
“Stefan,” he said quietly. “You’re ruining the moment.”
“What? You actually enjoyed this? I can deal with the ghosts. But this …”
“Stefan,” Detric said again. “Be silent. You’re ruining the moment.”
The Slytherin took his cue though it was clear there was still more he wanted to say. Instead, he began to pick at his plate with the aura of a whipped dog. Even with all his bravado, Detric could manipulate him so. Just with some vocal inflections and stares.
As the night continued, his mind only remembered one thing. Who was that raven haired girl? Memories itched at the boundaries of his mind, but nothing surfaced. Intrigued, he made a note to find out later.
Detric sat at the Slytherin House table. He picked haphazardly at a piece of half-eaten pumpkin pie. The elves had done an adequate job at preparing the dish, but something didn’t strike him correct. There was a peculiar aftertaste. It left him in a sour mood.
He stared to his right as Stefan, his close friend, recounted the last Quidditch match between Syltherin and Ravenclaw. “That pretty little Ravenclaw took the bludger hard,” Stefan said. He was one of the Beaters on the team. While the nature of the position was indeed adversarial, Stefan’s vigor as a beater was borderline mad. “Broke the tie then. Shouldn’t have happened against the filthy mudbloods. Keeper held them off. But Detric here kept our winning streak going. Took the snitch right out of the Ravenclaw’s nose. Spectacular.”
Detric nodded to the group of listeners. “I fear Stefan may be exaggerating things a tad” he said. “The seeker certainly had skill. However, it seems I held the upper hand. By the way Stefan, the Captain mentioned extra practice for the beaters. How goes it?”
“Ulric took the bludger to his head. Went straight to the infirmary,” Stefan said. He took a sip from his goblet. “After we got him awake, we continued. Next game is against Gryffindor. We’ll knock ’em down. You just focus on that snitch.”
Before Detric had the chance to respond, the room grew hushed as the grand hall’s door swung open. Emerging from the doors were several dancers dressed in beautiful black dresses. The girl’s swirled in circle’s as the dresses followed their motion. Tiny diamond-like things embroidered into them shimmered from the candle’s light sending a thousand tiny flickers in each direction.
Coming from an affluent pure blood family, dancing was no foreign task to Detric. In fact, each month, a ball including close family friends and strangers alike was thrown. Detric often entertained a dance or two with ladies who showed interest in him. Gathering happenings within his community was also a favorite activity of his. He would converse with Lady Comstock about her dealings with the new and improved Ministry of Magic, Sir Wilhelm Laughlin and his close acquaintances in the reformed Auror program — even Luke Watkins with his booming business in Diagon Alley.
As the sudden dance neared its climax, the dancers suddenly stopped. Detric watched as the diamonds on their dresses floated up towards the ceiling. Each hung there in brilliant light. Spectacular. When the song ended, the whole room was engulfed in ethereal light. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his fellow Slytherin’s shield their eyes from the light. However, he kept looking on, engulfed in all its majesty. Soon his eyes shifted to a girl in particular. A dancer with lush, black hair.
Breaking the tranquility, Stefan scoffed indignantly. “Trying to blind us with their stupid light tricks, are they?” he said. Several others from the table agreed as crude remarks were given. “Heard that some of those Hufflepuff girls — the ones dancing — are filthy, blood tainted mudbloods. Defiling this school with their steps. Disgusting. My family wouldn’t stand for this. You listening, Detric?”
“Stefan,” he said quietly. “You’re ruining the moment.”
“What? You actually enjoyed this? I can deal with the ghosts. But this …”
“Stefan,” Detric said again. “Be silent. You’re ruining the moment.”
The Slytherin took his cue though it was clear there was still more he wanted to say. Instead, he began to pick at his plate with the aura of a whipped dog. Even with all his bravado, Detric could manipulate him so. Just with some vocal inflections and stares.
As the night continued, his mind only remembered one thing. Who was that raven haired girl? Memories itched at the boundaries of his mind, but nothing surfaced. Intrigued, he made a note to find out later.
Hey great post! I'll be sure to get something your way asap!
Just a few clarifying questions: would people know that Analetta is a half blood? How strong is her relationship with my character? I think we talked about it, but I just want to double check.
By the way, great character as well!
Just a few clarifying questions: would people know that Analetta is a half blood? How strong is her relationship with my character? I think we talked about it, but I just want to double check.
By the way, great character as well!
Name: Detric Aurelius
Age: 16
Looks:
House: Slytherin
Blood Status: Pure Blood
Wand: 12.5 inch elder wood with dragon heartstring core
Pet: Logos, a owl that closely resembles a raven-black with white checkered pattern chest and crest hawk
Favorite Subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts
Personality: Reserved and often collected, Detric’s demeanor mirrors that of the traditional roots that binds the Aurelius family together. Proper in how he carries himself, ruthlessness to obtain what he wants to advance himself is nothing new to him. Rather than aiding others, Detric enjoys making others want him, which offers easy labor into things that he needs done — be it work or more sinister things.
History: Part of the Aurelius bloodline, Detric’s family’s influence stretches far within the country of Britain and into other parts of Europe. He grew up with the objective of carrying on the family legacy and ensuring that the bloodline stays pure — free from mud bloods and muggles.
Being a pureblood family, it comes as a surprise to many that those that lived within Voldemort’s time hadn’t joined the ranks of the deatheaters. While his mother is impartial, through his father’s comments, Detric sensed his father’s respect and desire to command such a force, to command such fear.
With that, Detric attended his family’s alma mater , Hogwarts, and has secretly begun to retrace the steps of He Who Must Not Be Named. While the wizarding world had yet to recovery from that dark time, it is the perfect time to slowly rebuild what Voldemort had. Except now, it would be Detric, and the Aurelius bloodline, that would assume the position. To create a world where purebloods remained at the top, the Aurelius’ scion knows the path that must be taken to ensure that.
Extra: While Defense Against the Dark Arts is truly what Detric excels at, he enjoys the nuance of Charms and sees the immense benefit in it all. When he’s not preoccupied into his Dark Arts related material, Charms is another branch of magic that he dabbles within.
Age: 16
Looks:
House: Slytherin
Blood Status: Pure Blood
Wand: 12.5 inch elder wood with dragon heartstring core
Pet: Logos, a owl that closely resembles a raven-black with white checkered pattern chest and crest hawk
Favorite Subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts
Personality: Reserved and often collected, Detric’s demeanor mirrors that of the traditional roots that binds the Aurelius family together. Proper in how he carries himself, ruthlessness to obtain what he wants to advance himself is nothing new to him. Rather than aiding others, Detric enjoys making others want him, which offers easy labor into things that he needs done — be it work or more sinister things.
History: Part of the Aurelius bloodline, Detric’s family’s influence stretches far within the country of Britain and into other parts of Europe. He grew up with the objective of carrying on the family legacy and ensuring that the bloodline stays pure — free from mud bloods and muggles.
Being a pureblood family, it comes as a surprise to many that those that lived within Voldemort’s time hadn’t joined the ranks of the deatheaters. While his mother is impartial, through his father’s comments, Detric sensed his father’s respect and desire to command such a force, to command such fear.
With that, Detric attended his family’s alma mater , Hogwarts, and has secretly begun to retrace the steps of He Who Must Not Be Named. While the wizarding world had yet to recovery from that dark time, it is the perfect time to slowly rebuild what Voldemort had. Except now, it would be Detric, and the Aurelius bloodline, that would assume the position. To create a world where purebloods remained at the top, the Aurelius’ scion knows the path that must be taken to ensure that.
Extra: While Defense Against the Dark Arts is truly what Detric excels at, he enjoys the nuance of Charms and sees the immense benefit in it all. When he’s not preoccupied into his Dark Arts related material, Charms is another branch of magic that he dabbles within.
@Daisuke
I'll PM you momentarily.
@ 2BitLover and bluemoon277
Could you two PM me? We'll hash out ideas and see where that takes us.
I'll PM you momentarily.
@ 2BitLover and bluemoon277
Could you two PM me? We'll hash out ideas and see where that takes us.
© 2007-2024