Riven Wight

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

So, not quite a fortnight's wait, but close enough.

I'm honored to have you apart of it. ;-) It's been my absolute pleasure thus far!

... CURSE YOU, DELICIOUS-SOUNDING FOOD!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Ghent’s nod went unnoticed by Elayra. Her gaze shifted fearfully to their surroundings and to Drust. She could not decide which fate she feared meeting more: the ghost's cold, deathly fingers, or the wrath of a Curse-driven Drust.
She looked back to Ghent when the boy suddenly moved. A scowl on her face, she almost expected him to have passed out. Instead, she found him sitting on the ground in a meditative position.
She glanced to the dagger he had dropped, and her eyes narrowed. She could yell at him for that later. As much as she hated it, Ghent was their only hope at getting out of this mess.
“No matter what, Ghent,” she began in nearly a whisper, struggling to keep a tremor from her voice, “focus on contacting them. Nothing else. I’ve got your back.”
She stepped so she stood squarely in front of him. She held her sword at the ready, standing guard. Her eyes darted vigilantly about the trees. The light was already nearly gone. The grayness of the approaching night quickly replaced the last golden streams that had pierced through canopy, threatening to snuff out what little light remained beneath the thick foliage above.
She glanced to Ghent, his eyes shut tight and arms wrapped around himself. Her attention snapped back to Drust as he stirred yet again. He groaned heavily and his arm twitched. It rose jerkily toward his chest.
He was waking up.
Thinking quickly, Elayra swiftly shrugged out of Drust’s large pack and let it drop to the ground. She knelt beside it, her gaze shifting to Drust every other second. She stuck her saber in the ground beside her, then unbuckled the pack. With the visible innards nothing more than a gaping hole, she reached inside. She dug around frantically, searching for something, anything she could use to tie him up.
She pushed aside metal gadgets and wooden boxes. She thought she felt a scabbard that did not belong to his katana, but she spared it little more than a fleeting thought and kept digging. She reached in until even her shoulder was nearly consumed by the pack.
The rough, woolen fabric of his cloak brushed against her hand. Her fingers closed around it, and she pulled it out. It would have to do.
She grabbed her saber then hurried to Drust. She knelt at his feet and once more fed the blade of her sword to the ground, the metal resting between a couple of the vines snaking their way about the forest floor. Scrunching the cloak so it created as thin of a length of fabric as possible, she set to work wrapping it around him.
Instinctively, his legs pulled away. Gritting her teeth, she trapped his legs with the garment then forced the cloak around them.
Drust moaned, the sound long as consciousness sluggishly returned to him. One hand reached up to his forehead, and the other formed into a fist, his fingers scraping lines into the dirt.
Cackles and echoic battle cries began floating through the woods. Unlike the indistinct whispers of the day, these echoed about the trees loud and clear. As she worked, flashes began to appear steadily, yet randomly, between the trees. Wispy figures in the shapes of people appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye. The gentle breeze turned into a stronger, freezing wind. It sent a shiver down her spine as it mussed with Elayra's tangled hair, making it billow about her face and adding another difficulty to her task. Yet, the spirits still kept their distance, as if waiting, watching. But for what? To see if Drust did their job for them?
She shook her head and clenched her teeth harder. It did not matter. She could worry about that when she needed to.
With the garment wrapped around his legs a couple times, Elayra tied its ends together near his knees as tightly as she could. Though it would not hold him for long, she hoped it would be enough to at least trip him up and give her—and Ghent—a few precious extra seconds.
Still kneeling, she turned to face Ghent. She opened her mouth to snap an impatient, ‘Well?’ but she froze, her mouth going slack.
Ghent still sat where she had left him, her dagger embedded into the ground beside him. Only now, his body was as see-through as the spirits that haunted the forest.

Time is a cruel thing, especially when it seems to be working against you. For Ghent, time was not something he had to waste, yet still it moved treacherously around him. Despite his efforts, it felt like nothing was happening. With Elayra’s order to concentrate no matter what now faded, only the quiet surrounded him as he conjured the best mental image of a ghost fox as he could.
An excruciating moment passed after he called out. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. Or, perhaps, too much of nothing. Even the gentle breeze that had ghosted through the woods did not disturb him. The temperature had even settled into a lukewarm state, making the air unnaturally still and empty.
Without warning, sensations flooded over Ghent. A cool mist brushed against his skin, and a scent somewhere between smoky incense and festering rot toyed with his nose. Foggy white tendrils pulled from the mist and whipped around him amidst a world that had turned slate gray. Voices rushed by his ears, there one second and gone too fast to make out what they had said before another replaced the last. Should he try, no matter how much he may strain, he would find his legs frozen in place, unable to stand, to move anything below his neck.
The emotions seeping through Hallow Forest intensified. Terror and rage soaked into his very soul as if their only purpose in life—or death—was to see him torn asunder from the inside. The tendrils swirled dizzyingly around him, moving faster and faster until the many blurred into one.
“Enough.”
Though the feminine voice was soft, it sliced through the cacophony of thousands of disembodied words. The tendrils recoiled, cowering away from Ghent, and the emotions receded into the depths from whence they had come. A calm settled around him, the tendrils twisting irritably a few yards away from him.
“Not exactly the customary greeting,” the voice echoed around him, “but under the circumstances, I suppose it will suffice.”
Further away, the spectral fog parted, forming a path. A glittering emerald mist swirled amidst the clearing. It condensed before him, until it formed a translucent figure striding slowly toward him. A flowing green dress hugged the figure's curving bodice. She held her dainty fingers steepled in front of her, her long sleeves draping toward the ground. The hem of her dress swirled and shimmered impossibly around her feet, the fabric rustling like windblown leaves.
The closer she grew to Ghent, the more corporeal her form grew. Yet, it never fully shed its pale, ethereal beauty. Her hair, its front drawn behind her head, nearly glowed with the fiery colors of autumn. Her skin was white and as powdery-looking as freshly fallen snow.
She stopped a few feet from Ghent. Her eyes, greener than spring’s fresh buds, stared down at him, their fathomless depths filled with unimaginable anguish. She unhurriedly separated the tips of her fingers, turned one hand toward him, then waved it in front of her in a slow, fluid motion.
More of the emerald mist swirled around Ghent, a cool breath of a wind rising within its spiral. It lasted only a couple seconds before it sunk toward the ground and vanished into the grayness beneath him, the invisible force immobilizing him melting away with it.
The woman returned her hands to their steepled position.
“Welcome, young vinifcium.” Her head nodded fractionally in greeting, her voice simultaneously sweet and sorrowful.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

I look forward to reading it! Take your time, though. There's never any need for a rush on my end.

Glad you enjoyed New York! My gosh, that's crazy about the test. Wonder what they'll do about that. I mean, when the entire class fails, that should tell them something. Either their test is expecting too much, or no one studied. xD

It's been alright, thanks! :-)

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

Sorry, haven't been sleeping much lately, so haven't much wanted to write the last couple days. I hope to get something up here before the weekend, but, @Saltwater Thief, as long as it's good with the GMs, perhaps whoever gets to it first post first since the order does not much matter at the moment?

Shackles of Revenge

I do not believe any of that was covered, actually. But I could be wrong. There is nowhere in particular either of them is needed at the moment. Start her wherever you seem fit, and end it the same way! I can work around just about anything in this case. ;-)

For sensing Kyair... Maybe they could sense something unusual from a block or two away, with it strengthening the closer they get. That sound good? He would be skulking about. Being almost powerless during the day, he would not leave the shadows in the middle of a hunter community until dusk, but would use the opportunity to stake out those in his list. So, you are welcome to make a passing mention if the mood so strikes you!

Hey, everyone has those moments! Me more than most. Stop beating yourself up over it!

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

You know, I meant to ask this... *looks at when the last IC post was,* four days ago, but spaced. Should I wait for Saltwater to get Alexander out there as well before giving Ryker's parents' responses?

Also, @Kirah, no worries about a short reply in my book! I mean, you did categorize it as "Casual." :-) Oh, and did you want us to use character name headers each post? Or does it matter when playing only one character?

Shackles of Revenge

No worries! Really. And thanks. :-)



'Kay, 'kay! Also, if there ends up being important information or anything else, I that's what I put that "reserved" space for. Because OCD. And I'll add secondary characters that I throw in there to the Character tab as we go. Others not even worth going in there might end up in a section in the reserved tab.

"He's not worth it." I feel sorry for him already. But he probably deserves it. I like that, her knowing him through parental friendships. And them going on hunts together. Works in with Kyair's vendetta.

Shackles of Revenge

Theme Song

Full Name: Kyair Noctain. His kind don’t bother with diminutive human traditions such as “middle names.” Most of them don’t even bother with surnames, but Kyair’s family was always a bit odd. And high enough on the food chain to not be bothered about it.

Nickname(s): None. Unless you want to deal with his wrath.

Appeared Age: (Applicable in human form only) Usually hears between 17 and 19, depending on who you ask.

Actual Age: Undisclosed. But older than he looks, and a lot younger than his aura suggests.

Aura: Most creatures with heavy magic have some sort of aura. Though it’s often not noticeable enough for normal, untrained humans to sense, it’s still something they have. It’s one reason a lot of semi-sensitive humans get a “gut instinct” that there’s something different about them. To anyone who can sense such things, Kyair’s aura reeks of age and power beyond his years. Caged, dampened power after being bound, but power nonetheless. He quite enjoys the reaction his aura often gets him from those more sensitive to it. He’s encountered those who it has intrigued, but his favorite is when someone who appears older than him cowers away, simply because Kyair’s aura is “bigger.”

Birthday: Noxtren don’t usually care about that, let alone keep track, but October 31st by human calendar standards.

Race:

Noxtren

Often confused with a shade at first glance when in their shadow form. However, they aren’t the same; noxtren could eat shades for an afternoon snack, if they really wanted to.
Noxtren are a powerful race that is believed to have been hunted to extinction a little over a decade ago. With them thought extinct, very few modern hunters have bothered to learn much about them, but their existence is no secret among the supernatural community.
Not that their information is always exactly correct.

According to Most Hunters Aware of Them:

(A.K.A. the most Lydia would be capable of finding out among her own community, with one particular exception.)

In the hunter community, they are often thought of as a death omen, and categorized somewhere between demons and shades.
According to lore, they are the personification of darkness itself, and are volatile, cruel creatures that always leave pain and death in their wake, feeding on the very chaos they cause. It’s advised to never face one alone unless you have a death wish. If you anger one, or it otherwise gets the idea in its head to kill you, chances are, you won’t live to see the next sunrise.
If you happen to encounter one in its more human form, and they pretend to befriend you rather than you killing it on sight, beware; the joke’s on you. They’re cunning, conniving things, good at manipulating others to get whatever they want—when brunt force doesn’t do the trick first.
If, through some miracle, you manage to bind one, then you’ll have a powerful slave and guardian at your disposal until they—or you—die.

The Reality of It:

(A.K.A. What Kyair knows, but Lydia or anyone else wouldn’t unless he or the undisclosed hunter exception told her)

Though they’re creatures native to the shadow realm—known as Nocreum (NOCK-ree-um) by its denizens—they aren’t demons, though their powers are often great enough for that to have been considered. Again, their appearance and aura are similar to shades when in their shadow form, yet they aren’t the spirits of the underworld as what much of lore claim about actual shades.
While they can indeed be fierce, and crossing them is ill-advised, they aren’t actively malevolent creatures, in most cases. Instead, they’re rather docile, outright attacking humans and the like only if provoked. There have been some ‘bad eggs’ in their history, but the same can be said for any race, really.
Aiding their bad reputation and the reason that hunters decided they should be, well, hunted, is that noxtren feed largely off of fear, pain, and the unneeded essence leftover in a corpse after its soul recently left it (which is often what creates a ‘residual’ or ‘memory’ haunting).
While they are capable of feeding off of other ‘positive’ emotions, the ‘negative’ ones are what they actually need. Think of the positive ones as being a sub-par desert; they can taste sweet enough, but they’re empty calories that don’t do much. They aren’t typically worth the effort of eating.
The negative ones, however, are a main course; they hold actual sustenance, a noxtren’s body converting the energy from these emotions to power his/her abilities and keep him/her strong.
Their feeding needs has also inadvertently prevented the emotions from lingering in the atmosphere itself, which also causes more good than harm. Ever hear that crystals can ‘absorb negative energy?’ Well, noxtren are—or, rather, were—the real-deal, there.
With an abundance of those negative emotions existing on their own, it’s rare for them to kill or otherwise harm humans unless provoked. Though, again, it has happened a few times in their history.
Noxtren are known to be proud creatures, but they’re also extremely loyal. Befriend one, and you’ll have a powerful ally for life. But, on the other hand, cross one severely enough, and you’ll have to spend the rest of your life on high-alert.
As they feed on other emotions, they’re own emotions are known to be a bit on the volatile side. Though older ones are typically good at keeping up the appearance that their emotions are in check, it isn’t uncommon for their exact moods to swap on a dime. When they feel something, it’s often felt in extremes, and they can hold grudges for an eternity.
Though hunters have only wild speculations as to how this race multiplies ranging from turning lost souls into their own, to er, more typical means, they are—or were—in fact, born from darkness itself. Alas, the necessary requirements for this to occur tapered off over the years, leaving them at the mercy of hunters and the few other dangers in Nocreum that pose a threat to their race.
Though believed extinct, as far as Kyair knows, there are three of his kind remaining, including himself. And one of those three is on his revenge list, endangered species or not.

Alignment: Depends on the day. And what’s in his best interest at the time. “Chaotic neutral” would probably describe him well.

Appearance:

Human Form

> Kyair has a deathly pale complexion, which includes his lips.
> He stands at roughly 5”11.
> Weighs around 150 pounds.
> Regally straight posture. Most of the time.
> He’s rather lean and wiry, giving him more of a sage-like look, rather than the impression that he’s warrior material. No matter what or how much human food he eats, his physique never changes.
> The cold, mischievous gleam in his eyes gives off far from an affable aura, and shows strength beyond his years.
> He has a sibilant voice, which is somehow both quiet and rich at the same time.
> He usually always smells either like the last thing he cooked, or the scent that saturates the shadow realm. It is a cool scent, somewhere between the crisp freshness of decaying autumn, and the sharp, wet scent of winter.
> His pure black irises stand out amidst the whites of his eyes, his pupils and irises merging into one mass.
> His hair, which he keeps on the lengthy side, is darker black than what seems possible, excluding a portion of the tips at the front. These strands change color based on his mood and/or desires—depending on how prominent his emotions are, versus his willpower—when he manifests in his human form. On a typical day, he likes to keep them either red, gold, or electric blue.
> Since he’s a form of a shadow himself, he has no shadow.
> When he’s in this form, an important thing to note is that humans tend to overlook him, not noticing him until or unless he directly interacts with them. This is a racial trait that has helped keep noxtren under the human’s radar for centuries. The only human exceptions to this are those who are more sensitive to the supernatural, or extremely talented and well-trained hunters.

Shadow Form

This form is just as natural for him as his human guise. Existing more in the Betwixt than in the Physical Realm, he can take just about any shape he wants in his shadow form, without any distortions, though it’s naturally a silhouette of his human form.
As a shadow, when not surrounded by extremely bright lights, he’s darker than your average shadow, and seems to absorb the light around him. In this form, he can make his eyes and mouth glow with a white light when open, and is capable of interacting with other shadows.

Distinguishing Marks: A black symbol stands out over his heart. Which, I might add, is on the right side of his chest, not the left. A simple mark, it takes the form of a spiky, slanted S, its ends curling over. An infinity symbol spears through its center. This is the symbol of his bondage. It glows white should he disobey orders, and sends a fiery pain through his body, stopping him in his tracks should his disobedience lead intentionally to his mistress’ injury or demise.

The Mark

Clothes Wear: Embracing his shadow side, he’s hardly ever seen not in a plain black shirt that hugs his lean form, and matching jeans adorned with a few silvery chains. This is typically accompanied by combat boots, the bottom of his jeans just fitting over them. He usually uses the shadows to deepen the color beyond what your typical dye is capable of. When he’s feeling cryptic or eccentric, he will adorn himself in a cloak made of shadows.

Accessories: A decently-sized silver hoop earring in his left ear. A vial necklace in the shape of a teardrop. It’s sealed on the small end by a chunk of silver cast into a grinning skull, a thick cord feeding through its eye sockets like a worm to keep it around his neck. It’s filled with a thick, red liquid he claims is the blood of the last human who tried to keep him bound. Which, in reality, it’s not... though, it is blood. He has a black leather belt studded with silver spikes, and a skull buckle, its eyes made from glittering rubies.

Weapons: In a fight, he relies on his magic, but he does have two daggers. One he keeps at his belt. It’s relatively plain, its thin blade a shiny black with silver edges. The second is always at the ready to be summoned, stored away in his own personal pocket in the shadow realm. This second is one he stole off the corpse of a hunter who had the misfortune of getting on his bad side by trying to kill him. A tri-blade dagger, its blade is nearly eight inches long, black, and has three sharp sides that twist gently into a point. The metal is a mix of silver and iron strengthened by magic, making it a handy weapon against multiple supernatural races. Its handle is wrapped in ebony suede, and rubies circle where the blade meets the handle. Sadly, due to its design, it’s not as handy as the one he keeps at his belt when it comes slicing mangoes.

Personality: Like many of his race, Kyair is a cocky, proud soul. He is powerful, and he knows it. Though it’s not in his direct nature to physically harm others, he is rather hot-headed, and when he seeks out revenge, he’ll stop at nothing until he sees his enemies fall at his hands.
His mood can change fairly quickly, and he never does emotions half-cocked. So, basically, look out if you make him mad.
Though he feeds off of them and thoroughly enjoys being the cause of the fear he feasts upon, he does rather like watching the human race as it evolves and destroys itself. And, besides, the food they come up with is astounding! They deserved to live, if for nothing else besides their cooking creativity. Because of this, he has never killed anyone for the sake of feeding off of their death—he’s far more evolved than a mindless murdering monkey. Besides, the humans do enough of that on their own to feed a hoard of his kind for an eternity to come.
He has no problem killing those who he deems deserves it, though, such as anyone who severely crosses him, tries to kill him first, or the truly evil monsters out there.
Though he’ll never admit it, being one of the last of his kind is a rather lonely, treacherous business, and he does occasionally long for companionship.
One thing he’s always known about himself, is that he would never willing sacrifice is his freedom and life for anything or anyone. Which puts him in a bit of a pickle with being bound: his life now depends and revolves around the orders of the one to whom he is bound, eliminating any true freedom he had. Regardless of if Lydia treats him fairly or not, he loathes being bound, his pride shattered and powers weakened. He’s madly determined to find a way to break the bond, and regain his freedom. But if he does, it could bode ill for his mistress.

Major Positive Traits: Collected… usually. Determined. Semi-patient, at least when it comes to waiting for the pieces of the larger picture of a puzzle to fall in place. Adventurous. Fearless. Meticulous. Confident. Quirky. Adaptable.

Major Negative Traits: Easily angered. Temperamental. Arrogant. Conceited. Cunning. Callous. Impatient when it comes to waiting for smaller things. A bit on the brooding side, which can work both ways. Can be cruel, especially when hungry, and I don’t mean, “Bring me a cheeseburger,” hungry.

Likes: Scaring the crap out of people—besides being capable of feeding off that emotion, it’s also a blast to do. Gourmet cooking. Showing off. Using his powers, even when not trying to be a showoff. Traveling. People-watching. Animals. Good competition. Short, simple answers. Giving people second shadows, especially when he has to trail Lydia, and doesn’t feel like fully leaving the Betwixt.

Dislikes: People who kill just for the fun of it. Hunters. Bad cooks. People stronger than him, and who boast about it. People who pretend they’re better than everyone else. Tyrants. Being bossed around. People who act week or play the “Damsel in Distress” card. Overly complicated and convoluted answers.

Magic Abilities: Kyair is one of the most powerful of his kind history has seen, and was born to a line already revered for their strength.
Shadow-Based Magic: I’m lazy, so I’m lumping his abilities for shadows/darkness into one general sub-section. If it’s a power that has a basis in those elements, he can probably do it. Shadow travel, shadow/darkness manipulation, mimicry, solidifying shadows into something more tangible… While in the Betwixt—a space in reality where Nocreum and the Physical Realm meet—he’s also capable of messing with the shadows of other things, and affecting the actual item (or person) in the physical realm.
Realm Travel: He can easily go between Nocreum, the Betwixt, and the Physical Realm.
Empathy: Having a slightly different connotation as a magic ability vs. real-life application, since emotions are what he feeds on, he's capable of smelling, tasting, and sensing the emotions of those around him. If it's living, it usually has emotions. When he's well-fed, he's capable of ignoring most of them if he wants to, but if he's hungry, they're impossible for him to ignore. It can come in handy as a means of sensing people--though some supernaturals are capable of concealing their emotions, as soon as any emotion is felt, he can sense it and even roughly where it's coming from, as long as they're within a certain radius. The stronger the emotion, the easier it is for him to feel it. He does, however, have to be closer to the emotion's source to feed from it, than he does to sense it.

Magic Weaknesses:
> If he doesn’t keep his strength up or goes too long without consuming the essence left behind by fear, pain, and death, then his powers will weaken.
> The largest weakness to his powers is that, if he’s out in the open in the human realm or even the Betwixt during the daytime, they’re severely weakened from dawn to dusk. He does still have use of some of his abilities, but think of it like a video game character suddenly dropping down from level 99 to level 50 or so. The abilities are there, but they don't deal the amount of damage, and are easier to evade.
A stipulation to this, though, is if he's in a space that has no or almost no light (underground, or somewhere that's windowless, for example), then it doesn't affect him as severely while he's there. The more pure darkness or number of shadows there are around him or in the general atmosphere nearby, the more he can do.

Physical Abilities:
> Reflexes and agility that would impress a vampire. Not quite surpass a vampire’s, mind, but be impressive to one, and give him a good chance in a fight against one, powers aside.
> Handy and quick with his daggers.
> Virtually perfect aim.
> Has mad skills in the kitchen.
> He’s virtually untouchable/unkillable when in his full, ethereal shadow form—at least where creatures of the human realm are concerned.

Physical Weaknesses:
> Sunlight affects him physically, giving him severe headaches if he’s out in the brightest times of day for too long.
> If, at night, he takes on a more solid shadow form, he can be injured by extremely severe light. The only way for him to heal from light-related wounds is to remain in Nocreum for a time.
> He’s never had any need for it, so, while he knows just enough about it to get by (and cook plenty of delicious food), he hardly knows the first thing about modern technology. He once tried to toast a tortilla in a DVD player, and a chance encounter with a robovac ended poorly for everyone around. Especially the robovac.
> Though not human weak, he’s far from among the physically strongest creatures out there. His strength comes more from magic and mind than muscle.
> Though extremely quick when his powers are involved, chances are, he wouldn’t come first in a race while in his human form. Gymnastics, yes; Race track, no.
> Extremely bright lights can be an issue for him when he’s in his shadow form. They can force him to flee, and/or even outright weaken him, sapping him of strength and energy.
> He can be killed while in his human form by a gold stake or other large, sharp implement through the heart. Or gold-plated, if left in place long enough. Some hunters are cheap like that.
> Light-based weapons and magic can leave searing wounds in their wake, if it doesn’t deal a killing blow.
> A more obscure method is a blade made from or studded in diamonds. Such a blade can be used on him no matter his form, and can kill him as a normal blade to a human would. The stone can slice through from the physical into the shadow realm and deal damage if it hits its mark. However, if a diamond blade isn’t driven into the noxtren itself in a shadow form, it’ll instead hit whatever surface the shadow is on, and likely shatter the blade.

Mental Weaknesses:
> Losing those he gets attached to. It’s rare for his race to grow extremely fond of, well, anyone, especially outside their own family unit, but if he were to let his guard down and grow attached to someone in any emotional sense, losing them could break him, and fully turn him into one of those ‘bad eggs.’
> In general, he tends to be a tad bit mentally unstable. After all, to be capable of mastering an unstable element without it consuming them, they must be a touch unstable themselves.
> When he goes on a revenge rage (which, for the record, has only happened a couple times), he tends to focus only on his mission, making it easy for him to overlook details that could ultimately be extremely important.
> He’s never had any need for it, so, while he knows just enough about it to get by (and cook plenty of delicious food), he hardly knows the first thing about modern technology. He once tried to toast a tortilla in a DVD player, and a chance encounter with a robovac ended poorly for everyone around. Especially the robovac.

Greatest Fear(s): Death. He’s terrified of dying, especially because of being bound. He’s willing to do anything to save his own skin, no matter the cost. He’s also terrified that he’ll be bound to Lydia for life. As a veritable immortal (and with the binding turning Lydia into one as well), that prospect is one that’s given him plenty of restless sleeps.

Ticks and Tags:
> Goes shadowy if someone manages to startle him.
> Often toys with his daggers.
> Obsession with mangoes. Yes, it’s a strong enough obsession to be considered a tag.
> Has a secondary obsession with cheese, though it’s not as prominent as his one with mangos. Sadly, he has yet to try cheesy mangoes, but it’s on his list.

Family (Deceased): Parents: Zarnor and Yunaya Noctain
Siblings: Kelnin (elder brother by ten years) and Nyasha (elder sister by three years).

Other:
> Despite his obsession with it, he can’t actually survive off of human food.
> During the day, he spends as much time as he can in his little personal corner of the shadow realm. Though, since his corner doesn’t have an oven, he’ll deal with the sunlight when he’s in a cooking mood.
> Because his kind get their energy from emotions, he doesn’t need as much sleep as many other creatures; at most three hours of sleep is enough for him to function properly. However, since sleeping helps conserve energy, the more sleep he gets, the less emotional energy he has to consume. So, he quite enjoys his beauty sleep and naps during the day, especially since being bound.
> A grinning white face in a shadow is one of his favorite ways to freak people out when in his shadow form.

Being Bound and its Effects: Ask any supernatural, and they’ll tell you that being ‘bonded’ or ‘bound’ is just a nicer way of saying “enslaved.”
Though most believe it was an invention of the hunters combined with the efforts of a vengeful witch, bindings between a human and supernatural have been in existence for as long as most can remember.
With the right items (oil from a shaderose, a “golden tear of sunlight,” at least a drop of blood from the one doing the binding, and another from the noxtren) and correct incantation (which is shockingly simple, really), anyone besides another noxtren could bind themselves to one.
Because of how it can affect the one who instigated the binding, it has been banned among the hunter society. Disobeying this ban could potentially result in one being ostracized, if the offender’s community was feeling lenient when doling out punishment.
While it’s possible for a binding to be ‘stolen’ from someone, it’s more difficult and dangerous to accomplish on an already enslaved noxtren, and takes a powerful being to complete successfully.
Read on for what being bound means for Kyair and his mistress, Lydia.

For Kyair:

The Positives

None, actually, unless you want to count the ability to sense when his mistress is in danger. A binding specifically for his race was created with the sole purpose to weaken a noxtren, and give the one they are bound to complete advantage over them.
Fun fact: a noxtren was the one who discovered how to bind their own, and used that knowledge to his gain. Little did he know, the secret would not remain just between him and the person he had thought he was manipulating. All the same, it takes some digging to discover the trick to binding a noxtren, and only a handful of people alive, if that, still know the secret.

The Negatives

> Being bound basically means that he’s a slave.
> He can’t deny any orders Lydia gives him, so long as they’re within his capabilities, without facing agonizing pain. The only exception to this is his words. He can choose to lie to her if he wishes, so long as that lie wouldn’t knowingly lead her to her demise.
> If he tries to physically harm Lydia, the effects of the bonding would drop him then and there. Not kill him, mind, but would make him wish it would.
> The binding dampens Kyair’s powers, cutting them down by somewhere around half without Lydia’s orders to unleash them in full.
> If his mistress dies while he’s bound to her, then Kyair, too, will die. Thus, unless he wants to greet death, he has to protect Lydia with all he’s got. Her life being in danger is one of the few times where the chains on his powers will loosen their hold on him so he can better defend her.
> He can still die by the normal means for his race.
> No matter whether he’s in the physical or shadow realm, if his mistress calls for him, he will hear it, and be forced to come to her.
> Since his energy has a tie to Lydia, supporting what of his powers get fed to her as well as his own, he has to absorb more of the essence of fear, pain, and death than normal to maintain his own overall energy, as well as both his and his mistress’ transferred powers.

For Lydia:

The Positives

Geared in the binder’s favor, there are many positive effects for Kyair’s mistress.
> With her life linked to his, she’s ageless so long as Kyair is alive.
> If Kyair dies, Lydia will still live.
> Though Kyair remains more powerful in the abilities than her, she gains a small portion of the noxtren’s abilities. This includes:
-- Mildly enhanced agility and reflexes.
-- Heightened low-light visibility.
-- Minor control over shadows and darkness. Like manifesting shadow energy into something semi-physical.
-- Shadow scrying—Like how Kyair was capable of seeking out Lydia and Ava by talking to shadows. However, this won’t always work for her, and would depend on whether or not the shadows themselves have picked up on Kyair’s feelings toward her.
-- The ability to access a small pocket in the shadow realm, allowing her to store items there, or even hide for a short amount of time.
-- This shared energy allows her to safely travel to the Betwixt and Nocreum for a short time with no ill effects, so long as Kyair is with her on both accounts; she cannot travel to and through the actual Betwixt or Nocreum on her own.
> Unlike Kyair, her powers aren’t hindered by the daylight, so long as Kyair is of decent overall health and strength.

The Negatives

Though fewer negative aspects occur for the person to whom a noxtren is bound, there are a couple minor ones, and one major possible side effect. After all, no strong magic comes without a price.
> She can still be killed by most normal means for her race, diseases aside. Kyair’s magic prevents most diseases from harboring inside her.
> If Kyair dies while they’re bound, she’ll lose the abilities being bound granted her, and begin aging again at a normal rate.
> If Kyair dies, it’ll leave her filling ill for up to a month, and it’s not uncommon for the vanishing of powers to leave a sense of cold emptiness. Whether that emptiness lasts for a short time or the rest of their life varies from one person to the next, and on how much they utilized these powers.
> Because of the element that these powers originate from (and with how powerful Kyair is in them), there’s the risk that the powers will consume Lydia. While it wouldn’t kill her, in its first creeping stages, it could make her go insane and become excessively power-mad. If she were to completely succumb to the elements, it would ultimately turn her into a shadow creature and swap the bond; as a shadow creature, Kyair would have control over Lydia, and his powers would either return to normal, or be amplified from having his own personal slave at his side.
Kyair has no way to induce this—or prevent it, for that matter. That lies with Lydia and Lydia alone. It isn’t something guaranteed to happen, but it’s a main reason hunters have outlawed the practice of binding a noxtren among their own, and the stronger the noxtren in the elements, the more likely it is to overcome a human, even one trained as a hunter.

Bio:

Clicky

Though how noxtren are created or ‘born’ is a mystery to any not from Nocreum—and even for some of those who are from there—in order for you to understand the unusual circumstances around Kyair’s existence, it’s necessary for you to know the truth and rules of how noxtren come to be.
As creatures of a mix of darkness and magic, both is required to bring an infant noxtren into existence. But not just any magic will do.
Despite the dark nature of both their racial personalities and feeding habits, it takes the combined powers of a male and female noxtren who have the emotional bond of love flowing between them. Such a thing was a rare occurrence even when their race wasn’t on the extinction list.
That magic combined with the living, chaotic powers of darkness created a child.
Typically, a noxtren couple could have no more than two children—only that many could be created by one love-bound connection.
When it did create a child, it took the more powerful bloodline of the couple, making that line more dominant. The more powerful both lines of the parents, the stronger the child. The most powerful known noxtren line is the Noctains, who it is believed was one of the first lines of noxtren to exist, thus making them currently the oldest line remaining.
However, for reasons that continue to vex noxtren, long past, the darkness stopped merging with their powers, ceasing to create more of their ilk. Many tried, but the darkness seemed to fight against itself, instead harming those who tried to create more of their kind.
There are three major things that make Kyair an oddity:
First: He was the last of their kind to have been born, created nearly a week after the darkness began to refuse to create more.
Second: He was a third child to the remaining Noctain family, who had only tried for a third out of desperation for their dwindling race.
Third: He could feed off of the emotions of both humans, and supernaturals alike. Though, human emotions were more sustaining.
The Noctains were in and of themselves a relatively peculiar family in terms of the noctrem. While most noctrem went their separate ways the moment their children could fend for themselves, the Noctains often stuck together.
Though they would go their own ways, seeing what of the world they wanted when they wanted, more often than not, at least two of them would be together at any given time. They believed in strength in numbers. But they also believed in the freedom of choice, never keeping their children—or each other—on a leash.
Kyair’s parents raised him with the same firm hand as they had his siblings. Though, there was one difference: they kept both that he was directly theirs, and that he was the last noxtren to be born a secret. They had no desire to arouse any kind of suspicion. Instead, if anyone asked, he had been orphaned a couple weeks before the darkness began to malfunction, so they took him in.
All the same, they taught him to kill only when it was kill or be killed, to not be the direct cause of the pain or death they fed on, but his anger always betrayed him.
Though it took more than your average irritation to set him off to such an extreme, Kyair had a vengeful soul from a young age. Paired with the strength in his powers, his parents were always extra cautious, paying extra attention to correcting any ill behavior.
Kyair enjoyed tormenting and challenging his siblings, and they, in turn, enjoyed the challenge, and gladly returned his torments—despite their parents’ best efforts to school them to act more civilized.
As soon as he was able, Kyair took quickly to the human world. He found he enjoyed watching the humans and toying with the mundane ones and hunters alike. The satisfaction that settled in him from spreading the occasional bout of (mostly) harmless fear was surpassed by nearly nothing else.
Only the human’s food came in as a close second. He spent much time watching and learning how they prepared food, spending more time physically among the humans than any noxtren had in ages. Though he tried on many occasions to get his siblings to appreciate the wonders of the delicacies humans created and consumed, they mostly just laughed at him and his unusual obsession, incapable of finding the same passion or taste for humans’ cooking.
Then, roughly five years before he met Lydia, tragedy struck.
He had just spent a fair stint within Nocreum with his family, when the need to feed on human emotions dictated he return to the human realm. Instead of leaving alone, they all traveled to the Physical Realm.
They’d exited on the roads of shadows somewhere in America. Though they had initially intended on relatively staying together, Kyair decided to separate from his family. While they headed to one major, high-crime city, he went to New York. There was always something new there for him to explore, some new late-night to learn from, or club filled to the brim with overly emotional beings, their emotions ripe for the piking.
Alas, the next night when he went to join his family at a random rendezvous point, he was the only one who showed. With his family never ones to be late, he knew immediately something was wrong.
Using the knowledge of their last known location, Kyair started there. He searched his family’s typical haunts, even called on the shadows for direction, but found little evidence of them.
Until he paid one of their lesser visited spots a visit.
An old club in a rundown part of town, it had been closed for a few years. Still, he had run out of options. There, he found his family.
Or, rather, what was left of their human guises.
Each of them dead, signs of torture plagued each of their forms.
The best he could tell, they had been ambushed. Whether by only a couple people or many, he couldn’t say, and even the shadows cowered at the death of so many of their masters at once. Whoever had killed his family, had known what they were doing. They had cleaned up after themselves, leaving no significant evidence of who had been strong and cunning enough to bring down a family of noxtren.
Hurting and enraged, Kyair set out on a revenge mission. For nearly five years, he searched diligently for their murderers, ruthlessly following any and every lead he got. But they always lead him to a dead end.
He had all but given up hope, when another noxtren, Roanoick, came to him with news. Roanoick claimed to have overheard a discussion between a few hunters, a discussion that could only have been about Kyair’s family.
He’d claimed it had been a group of hunters who had taken them down, a couple families who had partnered to exterminate the Noctains. A group led by the a family by the name of Prescott.
Not knowing it was a lie stated in the hopes his hastiness for revenge would instead get him killed, Kyair set out to the little hunter’s community where he learned the family in question lived, intending to bring justice to the hunters who had wronged his family.

Shackles of Revenge

I'm happy you enjoyed it all. Though, that first half of "Two Weeks Ago" did not have Kyair. Would have used his name if it was. ;-) It was kind of a "prologue" to the whole thing.

Told you. I like making first posts pretty. xD

Are you okay with me naming the community? Lion's Ridge. If you had something else in mind for that, let me know! And I was thinking it would be a fairly large community, as those things go.

Either way works for questions. Here may make it easier to keep track of them and their answers. Instead of having to search through a bunch of older messages if the information ends up being needed again. Messenger could be quicker, though. So, it's up to you!

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

New York! Lucky. Well, lucky besides having to take a test. xD I hope you manage to find some time to enjoy NY in between studying! And have a safe trip there and back. No need for apologies. I completely understand. Study hard!

Best of luck to you!