Rhaevnn Xeno

Sound and Fury

<Snipped quote by Rhaevnn Xeno>

Honhon! I'm flattered. ovo Great character btw. Looks like we have a good crew so far.

@Tokki

It was just so clean and crisp, I couldn't resist! And thanks, you too! x3

The Prophecy

I didn't realize the Deo'lei were such a large organization ._.

Regardless, Shien hit the nail on the head, at least in Morgan's case: being "the bloodhound," Morgan was more of a tool vs. an actual thinking member of his squad. Even if other sniffers are usually treated better, Morgan was not. Also, when making Morgan's CS initially, I chose to place him in Seclyr because of their hate for magic (and anything associated with it), so that he would be sheltered from certain experiences, at least in his earlier years/time with the Seclyrian army. While he probably would have heard the deo'lei, it's safe to say he believed them more of a legend/hyped up order than anything else.

That being said, Morgan's only encounter with the deo'lei was with a demonspawn was after his time in the Seclyrian army as a sniffer. I haven't fully plotted out the exact happenings of the encounter, but I'm going to assume that the brush with said demonspawn was impactful enough that 1) he assumes that the deo'lei are all demonspawn 2) they all wear the badge mentioned in the IC post. He just placed two and two together from past experiences and believes his information to be fact.

Sound and Fury

@Rhaevnn Xeno, on Vint, I'd prefer if you removed the last two sentences of his history, just because I don't want codification on how the incident that sparked the RP present in character bios; you guys don't know how it happened, after all~
Once that's removed, he's accepted.

@Dawn

Taken care of!

Sound and Fury

-Deleted-

Sound and Fury

(While I don't usually do CS's in this format, I like how Tokki did his/her's. Therefore, I'm mimicking it ^_^; Also, thanks for answering my questions, @Dawn!)

Hider

Vincent "Vint" McCormick | Male | 27

"PIMP'N COOKIE"

(As Vint would say)

If a life was be to be a grand irony, Vint's would be it. The 5'6," wiry man started in a place he would very like much to forget: an union farm in the state of Georgia. The dreary existence was what his father lived through, and his father, and his father's father before him; Vint was doomed to a similar fate. On this farm, hours away from any real civilization, Vint's only real entertainment was provided by the four station cable TV. That, and the amount of marijuana that was grown and distributed to local farmers in the general vicinity. The drug itself almost became a contest between specific farmers, each wanting to create their own brand that would be coveted by rival farmers.

Vint, however, dreamt of more. The TV's shows of higher life and "more than farm life" caused him to dream about going to the big city, making millions, and being famous; which, of course, was mocked by his family, particularly his father. Eventually, at the age of 21, Vint had pushed to his limit. Tired of being told what he was going to be for the rest of his life and being under the abuse of his father's fist/mouth, an explosive fight broke between him and his father, which ended him driving away from home, a shotgun's barrel blasting away at his truck. Vint then pursued his dream in the city of Miami, vowing that he would become more than his father ever would be.

However, dreams don't always come true.

Vint quickly found out how hard it can be for a country boy in the big city. Rejected most jobs and eventually finding himself homeless, Vint turned to the only thing he knew he could do - drugs. Finding himself in the criminal underworld, the farmer boy pushed weed, eventually rising to drugs such as crack and meth. Then, an opportunity presented itself: a meth cook needed an assistant. While slow at first, Vint eventually learned how to cook meth, and cook it well over the course of three years.

He cooked and cooked until realizing a more profitable business: pimping. The cook found it easier than pushing, for his father's fists had taught him well in the art of extortion and punishment. Three years later, and the farm boy had become a iron fisted pimp, gaining a mini fortune through drugs and flesh (or at least compared to his father and this all that mattered).

Personality

Vint could have been called a sweet farmer boy at one point. However, due to his harsh upbringing and enrollment in School of Hard Knocks, he is a hard man. Border lining on down right cruel at most times, he is cunning, ruthless, cutting, short tempered, abrasive, sarcastic and violent. Not knowing the meaning of quiet, he has honestly become his father's son (though he refuses to admit it to himself): basically, a loud mouthed, thick headed asshole. To Vint, he owes nothing to the world, nothing can stop him from taking what he wants - after all, it's a dog eats dog world.

Skills
Due his rather interesting background and colorful experiences in life, Vint has an odd plethora of skills:

Growing: Whether it's plants/animals, Vint has a pretty solid grasp on how to do it (more plants than animals, but still)
Small engine repair: Due to the amount of tractor/truck repair that would be required, he is actually quite knowledgeable in this area
Hunting/Fishing: Since it was a favorite pastime of his father's (and many other farmers in the area), tracking, skinning pelts, rigging a line/net, etc. comes naturally
Basic Firearms: Goes hand-in-hand with hunting; knows how to clean/disassemble rifles/shotguns/some smaller firearms
Jury Rigg'n: Because sometimes, you had to make due with what you had... or because country hick ingenuity insisted that this was the only way
Awful Handy: Truth be told, it needs fix'n, he can do it for you
Wrassle'n: 'Cause having brothers does this to you
Improvised Fighting: Sometimes, all you have is a couple nails, duct tape, and a glass bottle; time to make use of it!
Drug Tolerance: Spending all that time smoking pot will do that to you
Drug Assembling; Marijuana: Being around it and selling it all the time, you'd pick up on it too
Drug Assembling; Methane: Taught by the best in Miami (or so Vint claims), basic chemistry is a talent]
Quick Hands: Gotta be quick if you don't want cops seeing you push drugs
Tough as Dirt: Being beaten by your father and then expected to get up to do the chores right after will do that to you
Farm Hands: Lifting, pushing, hoeing - all of that will make you rather strong and fit!

Weaknesses
(Felt this was necessary, due to the amount of skills he does have)

Lack of Education: Didn't have time for school after the 9th grade.
Just Mulish: Sometimes, that country stubbornness just won't budge. Ever.
Country Anger: "Yew said what 'bout mah ma?!"
Puff'n: Smoking, whether it's cigerettes, cigars, or weed, is great! And terrible for the lungs.
Oh, those kiddos: Despite being a hardened criminal, Vent can't do anything bad to kids. "It jus' ain't raight!"

Sound and Fury (Survival/Intrigue Roleplay, with a dash of PvP)

Fascinating...

But I do have a quick question: What are the character limitations on this? Such as do characters have to human only ooor they have to be within a specific age limit... you know, etc, etc. :3

The Prophecy

Eh, I have a question, Rhaevnn, which I've been pondering over for days now whether I should simply reply to IC under the assumption that such was the case or confer with you about first: does Morgan think Gaath is deo'iel? Because it sounds like that's the case... and does he think so because he presumes that all demonspawn are deo'iel?

@Dark Jack

Yes, he does think Gaath is deo'iel, and yes, he presumes that all demonspawn are deo'iel. This being his only experience with a deo'iel is that was one who was a demonspawn.

The Prophecy

As the conversation between both his newfound party and pair of demonspawn trackers continued, Morgan found himself becoming more and more annoyed with entire affair. While his face would be as blank as a stone statue (his default expression unless his inner beast decided to burst forth), the hidden movement of darting eyes would be examining all parties involved. Being a sniffer, he was supposed to hunt things of magical entity - everyone knew that. But what they didn’t know is that Morgan was forced to look for the smaller things in a person. It was a necessity for survival, to avoid his handlers’ wrath or to avoid looking idiotic when a good liar crossed paths with his hunting squad. The small signs of suffering, or in the case of the lame demonspawn, evident signs of suffering did not go unnoticed. The obvious restraint against something, paired with the side comforting of the blue haired huntress was impressive. ’Is it sheer will power that these two can walk among the common people?’ Thrainsson couldn’t help but wondering as he allowed Ixion and the penin to ask the questions. ’With such a delicate balance, it would be best if I didn’t provoke them…further.’

Morgan disliked—no, hated the law. Any badge, any authority of any lord, god didn’t matter. They were all the same, in all of their corruption, their cruelty and… The vampire caught himself, halt a forming snarl that was pulling upward on the right corner of his mouth. Gently closing his eyes, he once again inhaled, and then exhaled, smoothly and quietly. ’This is not the time, nor the place,’ he gently reminded himself as he turned to focusing his energy on paying attention to the movements of the sisters’ souls. However, his eye could not help but wander back to the badge. More hateful thoughts were about to rise into his mind’s eye, but then something dawned on him. ’Deo’lei?’ What were they inquiring about a demonspawn… ’Or rather, demonspawns…’

But someone who uses the name “Death.” Morgan’s attention had been dragged from his delayed discovery, his annoyance levels spiking at such blasphemy, as he practically immediately responded after the blue hair sister was done speaking, “A bold choice to name their own spawn after a god.” Morgan commented irritably, his masked eyes gazing directly in the huntress’s mirrored eyes, “But tell me, why is the deo’lei hunting one of their own?” He finished, his voice in almost accusing tone. The sniffer would have been more wise to heed his own warning, but the mention of his god had added fuel to his already smoldering fire of anger. Instinct was to again be followed over logic and reason. But then again, didn't it make sense? Two highly feared... beings were sent in an obvious elite group to track down a more dangerous member of their kind. It was small enough and the questions asked were subtle enough to play down any real sense of danger, at least until further inquiry was pursued. On the other hand, Morgan didn't like their tone they used when speaking about him, their words they used to ask pointless questions, their assumptions that he would know something about their own problem. In other words, prejudice was beginning to taint his judgement.

The Prophecy

@Mercinus3

Sure! I'll be posting some time tomorrow (at the airport as Iv been out of country for the past week)

*EDIT*
Post is up! Sorry for the lack of length, but with such small talk, I figured it would be better to go slow and short so nothing gets lost in the RP goodness.

The Prophecy

Feel free to Yoshua (unless Merc wants to go ahead)