Prosaic

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{Interactions: @princess, @FunnyGuy, @SausagePat, @Conscripts}

""Adventure" is one word for it," He responds to Charlotte grimly. ""Mess" is another." Despite the rather tumultuous atmosphere of the park, he had managed to get his nerves to settle again. The day had long since promised to be bad, but Devan Vikena was... one to take things in stride, if it could be helped. The tinge of worry at the back of his mind told him that Charlotte was probably feeling much worse off in this matter, that having to deal with all of this drama regularly was bound to drive any person insane.

He didn't know what he could realistically do to help, but he was going to try.

"Dr. Williamson," He greets the gentleman with an inclination of his head, "It's a pleasure."

He does not comment on the fact that he watched this good doctor threaten the life of a man with a knife immediately upon arrival to the park, but it presses at the tip of his tongue. Charlotte manages to pull him from his thoughts to inquire about why he was here exactly and how his trip went. He wants to say something spiteful about his parents, to really act the victim in all of this but-- company. He clears his throat, and says instead. "I might have been giving my parents some trouble, I was... hopping from job to job for a period."

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "My mother started to imply that perhaps I needed a suitor to keep myself busy. I think my father just wanted me out of the house."

And out of the house, he was. Dumping him off at the Vikena Estate was not only lazy, it was an issue. His mother knew he was far too unpleasant to properly court anyone, or at least, that he would struggle quite a bit. "The ride over was mundane," he admits, a touch lighter. "Quiet, even. I feel as if I missed something terribly exciting though, with all of the drama that I saw this morning."

And with that, John begins to speak, telling Charlotte how his night went prior. Devan tunes into this, leaning on his elbow to give him his full attention. He takes a careful sip of his tea, scalding his tongue and silently cursing himself. All in all, by description alone, it sounds as if John didn't have the worst time. "Sounds like it was fun," he says affably, "Almost regret not having been there myself."

Not that he was much of a socialite, but he was well enough at pretending to be one.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Patch. Interactions ⋗ Zhalia Ramshorn @Benzaiten, Manon D'aureville @PatientBean, Scott Wheeler @Blizz, Phalko Ahn @CasLink School of Magic ⋗ Divination & Illusion Items ⋗ Suit / Crutches	_ _

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"Don't prioritize me."

He can't let himself be the reason these people get hurt. There's no noble bone in Simon's body, nothing that makes him more inclined to stand for anyone around him, if he were in their position, he'd have ran. There was a level of Darwinism to be acknowledged here, he was the deer with a limp and it made sense if they left him to his fate. Wolves had every right to feed, was it really fair to deprive them of what couldn't properly run from them?

--but he didn't really want to die, did he?

Not really in the sense that he had ever been able to imagine it. He had always assumed he'd go down bloody though, frankly, if it had happened like this then he wouldn't have been surprised. These people however-- there were two flanking him now. The older man with the beard and the pretty blonde with the accent. He was being supported on both sides because they wanted him to make it out of this alive.

He wondered if that was foolish, to some extent, to want to save a stranger.

Hardly as if he'd bring it up now, seeing that they were intent on escorting him to safety, on keeping the beast back. "I'm serious, you need to worry about yourself too." Which is about all he can muster, because Scott has already brought him beneath the protection of a shield. "Fuck."

In the corner of his eye, he just barely catches the flicker of Phalko retreating. One moment she's there, and in a flicker she's not. He doesn't have much experience with teleportation but he imagines it must take a lot out of a person. He can't see her blinking up ahead but he can almost feel it. There's a certain amount of determination that he imagines she must have to put forth all that effort to get back in time to warn someone. He really hopes that she doesn't burn herself out before she gets there.

There's a price to everything, even to kindness, he doesn't want to imagine what it'll be when it's all said and done.

He's moving though, as quickly as possible, carefully trying to avoid roots and rocks. His crutches will catch if he's not careful, he'll send himself sprawling. He doesn't want to make this go from bad to worse. He doesn't want to make these people carry him any further than they are. His head is sort of spinning from the idea that when this is over, someone will come to him demanding payment for something they did to help him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Patch. Interactions ⋗ Zhalia Ramshorn @Benzaiten, Manon D'aureville @PatientBean, Scott Wheeler @Blizz, Phalko Ahn @CasLink School of Magic ⋗ Divination & Illusion Items ⋗ Suit / Crutches	_ _

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Fear sunk into his chest.

Simon Hart was many things. A gifted hacker, a skilled clairvoyant, and a man who could make a mean spaghetti. He was not a fighter. None of his abilities were even useful in a fight, he knew that better than anyone. The sight of the Shuck fills him to the brim with terror and he draws back a step, watching it with wide, fearful eyes. He needed to go, he needed to get out of here before it had the chance to strike.

His suspicions against Zhalia have solidified, become a mass in the back of his mind. She seems unphased by the appearance of the beast, watching it in breathless silence. Of course, her unmoving frame could be a near clone of his own, he's gone so still that he could pass for a thing made of stone but--

Isn't it quite odd that it happened when she was obscuring her feelings?

There's a glimmer of blue and he steps back at it, bringing an arm up to guard his face unthinkingly. It's not until Scott speaks that he realizes there's a barrier between their group and the beast. His stomach drops all the same and he swallows down the bile rising up his throat. "I can't fight that thing," he says this clearly. His voice does not reflect the way that his heart is slamming in the back of his throat. "I don't fight. My magic is no good for fighting."

And it's right about now that he wishes he could cloak himself out of sight. He doesn't but he can't help wanting to.

A part of him wants to try to look further into Zhalia, to try to understand the recognition on her face at the sight of the monster that stands beyond them. He wants to press for more context. He's not certain he has the focus to do so but it presses at the back of his mind, begging for his attention. "I can try to cloak the group, I'm not entirely certain how well it'll hold but I can try."

He had not ever had a reason to use his cloaking on any entity larger than himself, he doubted he'd be successful in doing so but that didn't mean he was unwilling to give it a shot. Simon Hart was selfish by nature, but he was... realistic. He understood that the greater group meant more than a single person. As much as he despised it.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{Interactions: @princess, @Conscripts}

Charlotte was quick to embrace him, sweeping him into the second hug he'd experienced that day. It was not a bad thing, not really. It was embarrassing, for sure, but not bad. He exhaled in mock-defeat and returned the hug, if only for the breath of a moment. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to be cared for, these moments of kindness were few and far between with his parents.

"A'right, a'right," he says, waving her off playfully. "It's good to see you, Charlotte. It's been awhile." The smile he offers her when he says this is a vast improvement from the near-constant scowl he has long-since perfected. However, this smile lasts about as long as the hug did. "You're going to be seeing a lot of me, my parents have decided to dump me here."

He's very quickly distracted by the sound of Lorenzo shouting to Mayet. It's not exactly proper, not really that he's ever been one for propriety. There's a certain way that one must carry themselves when dealing with nobility, he's had a long time to put some type of effort into that.

Astonishingly, it seemed that Lorenzo had not.

Moreso, he's bothered by the fact that the Lady seemed to be accompanied by a tiger who looked as if it took even less kindly to Lorenzo's boldness. Devan was not one to be deterred by animals but he was willing to make an exception for especially large cats. He averted his gaze politely so it did not seem as if he was openly gawking at her and instead focused on the sound of Charlotte trying to direct the group away from the chaos. He nodded to her and fell in step behind her, eager to be as far away from any more of that as he could possibly get.

It wasn't that he couldn't appreciate a train wreck for what it was, but it was for the best that he didn't spend his first day here participating in said train wreck. Wouldn't my parents love that?

"Seems like it's been a chaotic day," he notes, "S'it always this bad? Or did I just shoot for a bad arrival time?"

There's a note of humor to his tone that nearly masks his concern entirely. Nearly. If Charlotte was dealing with this on the daily, he wasn't certain he envied her.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Patch. Interactions ⋗ Zhalia Ramshorn @Benzaiten, Manon D'aureville @PatientBean, Scott Wheeler @Blizz School of Magic ⋗ Divination & Illusion Items ⋗ Suit / Crutches	_ _

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Simon was feeling fine about his company until... well, right up until they started moving again. His intuition could be... sudden and strange, at times he chased feelings that he had no real answer for. A stray whim here, a stray whim there but this felt like danger. Well-- actually, maybe danger wasn't quite right, it felt like uncertainty, it felt like Zhalia was hiding something.

He and Manon were perfect strangers, people she didn't know well enough to be comfortably open with but it left him wondering. Zhalia started to list off the herbs they needed to find and he realized finally that he was boring a hole into her with his eyes. He broke his gaze to look out towards the forest beyond them, it looked much less pleasant in the gloom of nightfall. The branches were like reaching fingers, trembling at every breeze. The whole thing was making him feel trapped, like a prey animal surrounded in predators.

He almost didn't notice the approach of Scott at all. A man who had always looked just homeless enough to him that he never entertained the idea of being attracted to him. He was far more inclined to men without beards but he had noticed him around which was saying something. Scott had enough of a presence to him that he scarcely went wholly unnoticed. "Pleased to meet you." he says, although this is debatable and he's starting to feel crowded. "The more the merrier, right?"

Yeah, sure, let's travel in a pack into the woods.

"I feel a bit odd myself," he admits, although he's reluctant to point the blame at Zhalia, just yet. He looks to Manon, tries to make sense of what he thinks she must be feeling. There had to be some level of clairvoyance behind the claim, or perhaps she just wasn't a fan of the ambience. Either way, he found it hard to disregard. "Never much liked the woods."

This is perhaps the first entirely earnest thing he's said all night. He had never really been built for this kind of reckless exploration, it made his skin crawl when he thought about ticks, fleas or any other manner of parasitic insect.

He pushes onward despite his apparent discomfort with their surroundings, crutches digging into the earth for purchase. It was getting to be more and more of a workout, the further in that they got. "Just promise you all won't run off a ditch me here if things go south." He jokes lightly, although he can't help but feel a little grim about it.

He looked to Zhalia again, maybe hoping to gauge more information from her. He leans into his intuition here, hoping to find something.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{Interactions: @mellowdy, @13org}

There was some level of admiration for Mayet, something he attributed to her intelligence and strength. She did not seem to be easily deterred, he did not envy those who crossed her, even less than he envied Lady Harlow currently.

When she responded favorably to his quick response, he couldn't help but give a crooked grin in turn. It had been a risk to do, bold-face complimenting another noble could go one of two ways usually. Not that he was terribly worried about his reputation these days, it helped to not drag more attention to himself than necessary. "I try," he responded brightly, playfully even, "It helps that you didn't shoot that down."

And as the situation escalated and people hurled their respective insults towards Lady Harlow, he couldn't help but wonder if he really would have been better off at home. As much as he liked to see Crystal, she had taken off in a flurry of skirts to watch the archery competition and left him with a handful of plates. It wasn't as if they'd really spoken much at all. The awkward exchange of compliments hadn't done much but leave him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Mayet was interesting, at least. She was more than willing to stand for herself, now facing off with Lady Harlow, who he imagined was no longer feeling all that prepared. Though Mayet was not acting on behalf of his sister, he was still grateful for her readiness to step up to the plate. It wasn't that Priscilla couldn't handle herself, but he'd long-since come to terms with the fact that he could be a bit protective of the people in his life.

He was left contemplative and still holding one too many plates.

When the Duke Vikena called out to Mayet, excluding her title, even he couldn't help but wonder exactly what gave him the gall. He quite nearly opened his own mouth to comment, but rightfully, Mayet spoke up. Her annoyance at the situation was something he could sympathize with. Oftentimes when nobles gathered anywhere, there was an expected level of chaos but this was unexpectedly chaotic. He wasn't sure anyone could apologize enough to cover the sheer mess that had been made of the park that day.

"I know I don't speak for everyone but I do apologize your outing has gone so terribly," he said to Mayet, grimacing somewhat. "It seems, at times, some of us forget our manners."

This last bit was directed mostly to Lady Harlow, who he'd already offended once today and saw very little reason to refrain from offending more. The Duke however... well, he didn't have much experience with the Duke.

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙳 - 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚢, 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎

I believe I'll be retracting my submission, just due to time and mental health. The two rps I'm in already in here are about all I can handle, I think, but I look forward to watching this continue.

If Benzaiten is still with y'all, they're welcome to keep Silas in as a backstory element.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Patch. Interactions ⋗ Zhalia Ramshorn @Benzaiten, Manon D'aureville @PatientBean School of Magic ⋗ Divination & Illusion Items ⋗ Suit / Crutches	_ _

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There was something about Zhalia, maybe he simply felt bad for her. He'd wound up here at his own discretion, eager to be somewhere where he didn't feel misplaced.

It had not helped that problem. However, he didn't blame Shipden for this. Simon had long-since come to the realization that no matter where he was, he'd feel as if he didn't belong there. It was easier to dedicate himself to other things, find other passions, than it was to find that seemingly unreachable ideal of "belonging somewhere". He wasn't one for dwelling on details, the earth still turned regardless of if he felt he was turning with it.

"Few months, in my case," he says, brow furrowing a little in consideration. "Only ever lived in New York before this, it's a change."

He couldn't elaborate on if he felt that it was a good change or not. Shipden was odd in it's own way, secluded and safe from prying eyes. Zhalia continued, telling him that she planned to take an excursion into the woods and something about that made him feel momentarily odd. "I'd love to accompany you," he responds kindly, pausing only to acknowledge that Manon had approached them. "I don't mind at all, never a better night for it, eh?"

Manon was a pleasant-faced, blonde, young lady with smoky eyes and a nice smile. He'd never really afforded her a conversation, but he had seen her around. While Simon could be a bit hermit-like in his free time, he liked to make note of the people he saw, storing away whatever information he gauged about them. Manon seemed charming, well-spoken, and brave or at least-- confident. He offers her a hand to shake, bracing his weight on his other crutch.

"Simon Hart," he introduces himself, offers her that same nice smile that he mustered up for Zhalia. "Zhalia and I were just about to go into the forest to hunt for herbs, would you be so kind to accompany us? We can speak as we go."

He figured it would, at least, be safer in a group of three.

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙳 - 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚢, 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎

@Prosaic What supernatural incident did you witness ? I seemed a bit vague in your story. Could you be more specificz for example Eli was a victim of a vampire.

How do you end up in a cell with your sister, do you keep contact after you left home ?

@DeadDrop

Hi, I specifically left it unlisted as I was leaning more on the route of research leading him to knowledge but if he needs to have witnessed something. I'll add in that he saw something in regards to the murders that happened.

As for the bit about his sister, Benzaiten and I can discuss this but it can be assumed they came back into contact in recent years.

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙳 - 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚢, 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎

Silas Myers

_{◄ 42 ▎ MALE ▎ 6'0" ►}

_{P R O F I L E}
Silas is a quiet soul, not a man of many words, however the words that are chosen are often heavy-hitting in their way. It is because of this tendency that he comes off as well-spoken, driven even, when he chooses to debate or hold a discussion. He could once have been described as painfully shy or closed off, but as he's aged, he's become an easier nut to crack. It's not so much a struggle to hold a conversation with Silas as it once was, despite this, he's still prone to awkwardness at times. Silas does not seem very good at initiating conversation or going into depth about himself or his personal life.

He's a kind person though, extremely caring and empathetic. Silas puts other people before himself, quick to tend to their needs, even when it would be better to tend to his own. His natural love of helping and his inability to help himself often leads to him feeling emotionally drained. He can also be a bit of a "mom friend" at times, the kind of person to jump to making sure that everyone around him is in order. This does not much help his feelings of being emotionally drained.

Silas is brave though, unafraid to rush into danger. His bravery can border on recklessness if it's gone unchecked, but he is more than willing to face danger head-on. He prefers to tackle problems at the head and he loves to fight when he's given the right platform. He's a bright man too, someone who's quick to think and put forth ideas. He's a huge fan of research and learning all he can about a problem. Silas is not one to turn down a night of studying if it's necessary to working something out.

Silas is also good-humored, he likes to joke around with those who are dear to him and doesn't try to take everything so seriously. He will make light of situations at times in an attempt to keep froim over-thinking them, it can be important to remind him when it's not the time to do that. All in all, Silas tries his best and he's well-meaning in most ways. He can be a bit self-deprecating but... he's working on that.

_{D A Y S - G O N E}
Silas Myers was born in Brookyln, New York, to a fairly poor family, though his childhood was mostly quite normal. He had a pair of loving parents that rarely argued and younger sister who he loved dearly despite her tendency to be a bit annoying. They were a happy family despite their money situation and Silas was normal up until about the age of six. It was at this age that he began to suffer from sleep paralysis nightly. This was the first of many sleeping disorders that he would suffer from in his lifetime.

Sleepwalking followed close behind sleep paralysis, chronic and debilitating nightmares were next. His parents could not afford a sleep specialist, so they were tasked with finding solutions at home. He managed to find ways to break his sleep paralysis as he grew older, even ways to keep himself from wandering too far in his sleepwalking states but there was really no cure for the nightmares. He dreamt of terrible things constantly, plagued in nightmares that he couldn't shake, he often woke up cold with his own sweat.

It was because of these night terrors that he became prone to insomnia, staying up until his body absolutely demanded sleep and wishing every night for a solution.

Silas grew up well enough despite these issues, pushing forward out of sheer stubbornness. He was academically gifted enough that by the time he got to college, he was set to move forward into his career as a veterinarian. He found that the more he worked with animals and kept himself busy, the easier it was to cope with his parasomnias. Life wasn't perfect by any means, but it was bearable. Most of his life would be that way, continuing on despite his problems.

Silas' veterinary work saw many types. People who were kind and in need of help, people who maybe shouldn't have had pets at all and those that were just uncanny enough that they made him feel weird down to his core. He was... good at dealing with most of these people. When an impoverished area of Brooklyn was suddenly stricken with a string of violent murders, Silas would not only be alarmed and afraid, he'd lose a portion of these customers that he'd grown so used to.

Luckily, Silas was the curious sort as much as he was the reckless sort and this curiosity would eventually be the driving factor behind him asking a few questions that he maybe shouldn't have asked to a few people he maybe shouldn't have asked them to. The resounding discovery of the supernatural is one that would be world-shaking to Silas. A new and unsettling way that he would have to look at the world that he'd lived in for so long, an addition to his ongoing nightmares.

Silas, armed with this new idea about what existed alongside him, would find himself on a hunt for knowledge. This obsessive desire to learn more eventually got in the way of his work and lead to him moving out to Baltimore, chasing tales of what he didn't understand. This chase for knowledge would also lead him to the Cell, where he's currently trying very hard to get used to all of this.

_{M E M O R I E S}
Elliot Myers: Younger sister. He cares a lot about Elliot, however they haven't spoken in a few years.

_{C R E E D}
𝙸𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙶𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢.

_{D R I V E}
𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢: 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢?

_{E D G E S & P E R K S}
𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚛
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍.

𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜-𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜. 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢.

- Who They Are

A revival of an OC I haven't played in forever, please let me know if there's any changes I should make. :) Hope he looks okay.