Apr 10, 2021 14:01:12 GMT -6
Deimos Sin If it’s for you to live - it’s enough general info
appearance Five foot six and extremely light-weight, Deimos’s perhaps most defining feature is how slim and undernourished he looks, his body type struggling to get beyond the confines of thin or slender. With an extremely pale complexion and dark marks around his eyes - it’s a natural given that Deimos almost always looks sleep-deprived, even if that couldn’t possibly be the truth. He has sleek, midnight black hair that’s usually decorated by old but well-kept ornaments, that give a slight shine when the light catches them. His eyes are a dark green that could appear black in some circumstances, though there’s a small ring of crimson in the right one. personality Deimos is somewhat a complex person - though he really just has a lot of quirks. Savvy, quick-thinking and pretty cunning - Deimos can easily figure a situation out if needed - or find a way to get himself out of trouble. He’s somewhat secretive unless he finds a person to be of interest - or worth his time - in which case he can be something of an open book - especially if the right things are asked or his quirks are picked up on. abilities Natural: soul sensory, mild healing factor. Necromancy: Advanced. Fear Inducement: Mastered. Seance: Mastered. Minor Soul Manipulation: Beginner. Wing Manifestation: Advanced. backstory Trigger warning: witch trials and all the things witch trials entail, though it is not descriptive and more vagued over. Ever since Deimos was young, he found that he was helping out more than doing anything else. On one hand it meant wonders for learning practical skills as well as medicinal ones, learning how to make potions and cure various ailments, but on the other hand it meant he lacked a proper connection to his community that wasn’t service-based. He learned how to finely grind different flora and how much to add to any given dose - carefully guided and taught by his mother who functioned as the village’s doctor. She was very quick to correct him at any slip-up, no matter how minor, though this was good to prevent any true mishaps with any medicine. Father was a constant presence - passive yet hard-working and supportive. For his own credit, Deimos worked hard at what his mother deigned needed to be done - and Deimos never really complained. His natural affinity for the abilities of the witch blossomed and his mother utilized these talents to her benefit as the years ticked by with him doing a majority of her work - believing that one day something good would come from all of this. Unfortunately, as a strange panic began to take hold - no future or reward that he could have imagined would come to fruition. A strange malady he couldn’t cure arose, clogging the minds of the people like smoke, staying their hearts with a panic and fear like he could have never predicted. The townsfolk turned on his mother, whomst they once praised - and he remembers the rallying to rid their town of evil. He remembers the confusion in his voice - “Evil? But Mother, we help them. Why would they think we’re evil?” He remembers his mother’s eyes bright with fear, the harried chewing of the lip which eventually tore and bled. He followed her as she marched over to the door, flinging it open to reveal an angered crowd with torches. “You have mistaken me for someone else. The witchcraft came not from me, but from my son! Take the true culprit in my stead! You all saw him nursing that black kitten to health!” Deimos wasn’t sure what happened, but he remembered looking at his mother in fear and disbelief. Of course he knew witchcraft, he learned it from her! Only Father couldn’t use the arts. “Mother what are you-“ The boy’s question was cut off as he was pushed forward forcibly - out of the door and into the crowd, the old door being slammed shut behind him. Rough hands grabbed, bruising flesh and he was dragged to the town’s old jailhouse where he was shut in to await his sentence. He remembers pressing his back to the dirty old wall and curling up, shutting out and blocking away anyone who shouted or came to see or visit. Little was he aware that he wasn’t alone the entire night, a small black cat with green-green eyes lay curled at his side until the morning lights came. In a haze, as if ailed and drunk, Deimos was sentenced to death. Seventeen years old - not even allowed to reach full maturity. Heavy chains and lit torches were burned into the back of his mind, alongside with the oppressive and searing heat of consuming flames. He hadn’t begged or pleaded - knowing somehow that there simply had been no use. Tragedy alone marked the pages of the young man’s death. When he had first woken again, so much time later, he spent many years acclimating and wandering without aim. Guided from place to place by a smoke-black cat with too-green eyes, Deimos found himself falling in the good graces of many, as he still remembered how to make medicines from mere flora. Eventually he evolved as the time and ages did, growing along with the world to become someone savvy and cunning. misc *Deimos is an Aries. *Deimos has a natural ingrained mistrust and fear of fire. Being around it triggers flashbacks to how he died, and it runs the risk of causing him to snap or freeze beyond his own control. *Deimos has retained the habit of aromatherapy and natural medicine, though it isn’t something he gives others willingly. *Due to his past, Deimos has a natural distaste bordering on outright disgust for abusive women as well as cowardly women who would throw their own families under the bus to save themselves. *Deimos has a soft spot for black or grey cats. | roleplayer info ☆ NAME Kitsune ☆ RP EXPERIENCE Forever ☆ TIMEZONE CST ☆ GENDER Female ☆ OTHER CHARACTERS Many ☆ FACE CLAIM Necromancer, Asutsuo Johannes-Faust ---------------------- THIS CHARACTER BELONGS TO kitsune. DO NOT STEAL. |
MADE BY ★MEULK