The Lightbringer

 

Gleeon Onyx

 

⚜ Former Billionaire ⚜ Warlock ⚜ Half human, half Draconic ⚜ Immortal ⚜

 

Occupation:

 

Gleeon has and still operates a safe haven for supernatural, beast-like, and other non-human-type beings, any entity that seeks refuge from mankind without the fear of being poached or persecuted. This can include everything from mages, to anomalous people, vampires, sentient creatures not of this world, and even dragons. All are welcomed if they are not a liability or a risk to his group. Not a place for murderous beings to hide.

This haven can be found his estate: A large property that sits on a lakefront, surrounded by woodland mountains and forests. Since a few members of his group consist of giant reptiles, it provides wide-open spaces with the terrain obscuring it from the sight of his neighbors. 



Disposition:

 

Selfless is one way to describe him, more than willing to aid others in need. Regardless of what species, ethnicity, religion, or what world somebody is from, they’re always welcomed with open arms, no individual is antagonized for their background.

Gleeon is both kind-hearted & a warrior all in one, low-energy, and often seen as the voice of reason by those in his group. He's proactive in tending to those in need, also a good listener when somebody needs to get something off their chest. Can be a good mentor figure for younger individuals in his family of monsters.

When it comes to entertainment and hobbies, he's into a lot of Sci-Fi shows, reading, swimming (thanks to a certain Siren), and model-building.

Beware: He's a bad cook. So much that he burnt tea. Others in his group have banned him from making anything in their kitchen.

Appearance:

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Skin Tone: Pale

 

Hair Color: Jet Black

 

Eye Color: Gold irises with black scleras

Feral Form

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Skills/Attributes:

 

Long ago during his youth, he caught a fatal illness. Unable to bear the thought of losing a child, his adopted mother of a Dragoness injected him with her own blood. This process rewrote his DNA, which in turn gave him extremely high resistance to many diseases and viruses, with inhuman strength, and increased senses.

Due to the wish of a siren he courted, the man was bestowed with immortality. This does not mean invulnerability, only that dying of old age is no longer a risk.

Gleeon is well-versed in the use of Aeromancy: Wind magic. This enables him to manipulate the very air molecules, either by creating jetstreams of air, conjuring up tornados, use it for levitation/flight, or redirecting the wind. This can include the ability to make spheres of compressed atmosphere before launching them as explosive projectiles once the pressure is released. Since Gleeon can tap directly into oxygen molecules, he can cause a vacuum to instantly put out fires, or as a counter against pyromancy.

Sorcery aside, the Warlock also favors the use of modern firearms, useful for the sake of avoiding unwanted attention since magic can be quite destructive. His preferred ranged weapon is a Judge or Governor pistol, despite having a collection of rifles and many other items, many of which are unsurprisingly illegal. 

 

 

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Three decades ago...

 

Amazons, a large warrior tribe comprised of all women from ancient folklore that still exist to this day who live a life of isolation in the modern world, being nothing more than a shadow of the conquers they once were.

To sustain a consistent population, women of the tribe venture out of their territory to find and seduce men, where they intentionally impregnate themselves to later give birth to baby girls. However, doing so comes with an occasional problem: Sometimes they will receive a boy instead. Any male offspring are usually disposed of by dumping them off in the wild, typically in forests in hopes they’ll be mauled to death by predators or die from exposure. 

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However, there is one known case where one of these discarded children survived. Roughly thirty years ago, one Amazonian diverted from one of the usual dumping grounds and left the child by some ruins instead for unknown reasons. 

 

 

 

Little did this cruel mother know that there was a Dragoness inhabiting the temple, an eastern one. Upon discovering the abandoned kid, she took him in and raised the boy. Gleeon, as she named him, would grow up under her guidance, learning how to wield air-based magic, and many other talents that would aid him in life. The two formed an inseparable bond.

Not long after he became of age, the young man was sent out by her for him to experience life and mingle with other humans. The first few years were rough, having to scavenge for food, find temporary shelter, avoid arrest while snatching leftover meals, and seek a job simultaneously. Eventually, his efforts paid off.

As for the specifics of what exactly happened and led his current situation in life, that is for you to find out, should you embark on that adventure.

 

  

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~Side Characters~

 

Abraham Sullivan:

 

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Perhaps the last and only surviving World War One veteran still alive to this day, in addition to being David Sullivan's twin brother. Well over a century ago, Abe was drafted and enlisted, having become the driver of a Mark Five tank his crew nicknamed: Steelheart. 

 

 

The final operation they would participate in was the siege of a weapons lab, under the control of another nation called the Dominion. He and his crew managed to break through enemy lines and enter the facility, only to discover a device capable of freezing time in its immediate vicinity called a Stasis Bomb. Rightfully fearful of what would happen to their fellow troops, Abraham and the others loaded it onto their vehicle before driving away in an effort to move it off-site. Unexpectedly- it went off, putting him and the surviving crew into suspended animation in time for the next hundred years.

 

Upon being released into the modern age from the stasis bomb deactivating, he was discovered by Gleeon's group and taken under his wing. With help from the family man himself and Cassella, Abe was brought up to speed for the most crucial things with the current era and history. Slowly but surely, they assisted him with integrating back into modern society, which felt like a whole new world to him.

Abraham is indifferent and welcoming to most newcomers, well-disciplined, along with not wanting to start emotional conflicts or participate in one. While not the most talkative person out there, he still attempts to socialize with others.

Personality aside, he has a few passions due to having some artistic skills: Sketching, aviation enthusiast, model trains, automobiles, naval architecture/history, and rail-fanning. (Due to him being a railroad engineer before the Great War.)

Being a man with no special powers, Abe is heavily experienced with firearms and operating large vehicles from driving a tank during his military career. Thanks to a number of other smaller conflicts on Gleeon's end, he became even more battle-hardened.

 

Valery Koslov:

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Out in the wilderness of the city Pripyat in Ukraine, a young mage was growing up under the care of a witch, who had been orphaned at the time. The infamous Chernobyl nuclear disaster occurred, which unsurprisingly contaminated its surroundings.

Much of the radioactive smoke and particles came down on him. Valery had sustained a fatal dose and radiation burns, which left him bed-ridden in what was thought to be his last few days alive. Unexpectedly... A deity of some sort had entered his home. This mysterious being cast a number of powerful spells upon him before immediately leaving.

In a short time span, Koslov mustered enough strength to rise out of bed, no longer falling victim to cellular death across his body. The spells used gave him immediately to radiation, and the ability to absorb it at well. While this was a blessing, it did not undo the cosmetic damage: His face and skin were ruined far beyond recognition, making him resemble a charred zombie.

 

To hide his horrific appearance, he wears a cloak and covers his face/skin in white bandages. Valery wields a sharpened shovel as a melee weapon, which he dipped in damaged uranium fuel rods to make it volatile. This vile item can cause severe radiation burns to anyone struck by his shovel, or foolish enough to grab it. Any living being can expect to get cancer later on and experience radiation sickness in the short term. In addition, he uses pyromancy-based magic, often lacing it with radiation for more devastating effects.

While his methods for defending himself are highly questionable, Val is a cinnamon roll for the most part, one with a lot of energy. He tends to be an extrovert around anyone that won't judge or find his appearance suspicious. Currently, he travels the world in search of anything that could help him achieve his ultimate end goal: Reconstructing his face.

In the present, he's recently joined the Sullivan family and has developed a close friendship with Cassella.

Some notes on the admin:

#1 Because this is usually an ongoing problem with a lot of peeps, if you lose interest, get bored, or experience writer's block in our thread, don't hesitate to let me know, no hard feelings.

#2 If I take a really long time to respond (maybe two weeks or so) you can shoot me a reminder. I tend to be forgetful about things since I sometimes have stuff going on at my end.

#3 When it comes to writing, I prefer long-term story arcs over one-time threads that end in a short timespan. I'd rather not go through all the effort of plotting something elaborate, only for it to be cut short for whatever reason.

#4 If you're the kind of writer that's rapidly changing your OC or constantly swapping characters, I won't be interested since the thread would likely end in just a few replies. I tend to see a lot of people make pages just for show and not use them after their creation. (Can we all agree it gets kinda annoying?)

#5 No killing off my character, it's a common courtesy to respect other people's creations and not force them to undo their work.

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Character Age

32


Character Gender

Male


Character Relationship Status

Single


Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella


Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Romance, Anime, 18+, Action


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Comments

  • Are you interested in plotting at all? I know her page isn't updated yet, but Kyrah's character is about a decade old so if you have any questions I'm happy to answer! & I can of course give you a summary.

  • Thank you for the add, love!

  • ||I would love to write, it sounds intriguing. ^^ Unfortunately, I'm only taking on one thread since I'm just getting back into the swing of things and don't want to get burnt out. If a spot opens up or I'm ready for more threads I'll let you know! Thank you for understanding. ^^ ||

  • || Thank you for the add, doll. ||

  • Over and over, we see it; lies breeding more lies, one small yet leading to the birth of another fouler, and so on and so forth - now, add to this the inherent backstabbing nature dwelling within all children of the night, and such tips easily the scale of frail mortality and reason in Robin’s mind on what he could and should say in order to sway Abraham swiftly to his side; he finds himself favouring and choosing dishonesty over what in the back of his subliminal self he knew he ought to adhere to steadfastly. He reasons thusly and rather coldly: 'I have to kill this mortal at the end of this bitter journey either way, uphold the Masquerade for the sake of my immortal self; why even should I bother?’ No doubt this trail of dark thoughts has spawned from the loss of so much vitae in his body, his loss of self in a way; blood being the one thing maintaining his physical form, keeping it up and moving, animated. Of course, the sun helps little in this - an oppressing orb of light pressing down on him, assaulting every part of his senses. It’s torture, really. 

    "Well," he begins, starting his line of noxious lies that unquestionably would come back and haunt him in the future, ruing perhaps whatever seed of a friendship had been planted today or at least corrupt it at its very outset: Robin explained how there were a few measly, low-level vampires having held up and made their haven within a large mansion somewhere undisclosed in Lousiana and that they were the ones that had originally sent those bounty hunters as they were far too weak to deal with any threats themselves. Robin added, in the end, “It will be easy. I promise this.” Another lie.

    “Now,” he said, taking a few steps back towards Ralph, “I must be going. I will wait for you for twenty minutes; this is as much time as you are given to make up your mind before we must depart. I’m sorry that it rushed, the time you have so little, but none of it can be wasted - we are on a tight schedule, one that I am already behind.” 

    After this is said, Robin informs Ralph, who, with a sigh, returns to his car along with Robin. On the way, Mr Harker looks back a final time, “Twenty minutes to decide. Not a minute more, sir.”

  • Her arms cross in a defensive stance as she flicks her gaze back to Mel. Seeing such human expressions on an inhuman face is strange, but she refrains from commenting on it. Instead, she opts to stare Mel down.

    She wonders if coming here was a mistake. Although kind, these people (or rather, creatures), are too lax for her comfort. It makes her anxious that she could easily be located. This location is a far cry from her usual hiding places, so it will buy her some time until she can think of her next move.

    Nodding at Valery, Scarlett is all too eager to get her introduction with Mel over and done with. She pivots on her toes, blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders with the movement. One step ahead of Valery, she heads back to the house where she won't be surrounded by water. "I don't need a hug," she says, unsure if she wants to scowl or laugh at the offer.

  • Bitter was the taste of lies as they rolled on Robin’s tongue: him considering such crude tactics nothing more than a mere petty coward's shield to hide behind or pathetic poison against one's enemies. And so now about to avail himself of such things, he in principle stood starkly in opposition; well, it did not sit right with him - to shanghai someone in the manner as he was about. Regardless, it was the only way he could think of to get Abraham to come along as his temporary pal. And so he follows him, perhaps a bit too closely for the mortals' comfort, in tow behind as they step off together and a bit away from the others; luckily unfollowed by Ralph this time, for the latter's safety. The taxi driver had perhaps finally wisened up to give a wide berth, catching on to the fact that Robin was treading a dangerously thin line between civility and murder. He remains in the background, fiddling with things that perhaps he ought not. And if no eyes were on him directly, sneakily, he would possibly be placing an item or two within his deep pockets. He figured it was the least he could ask for, considering the mess Abraham and Robin had left in their wake in his car - blood did not so easily wash out as it does in the movies.

                                               ………………….…………..

    Robin could speak freely now, away from any possible words of scrutiny or wishes to accompany them - because it could not be so. And so the bloodsucker moves about in his place, lips parting, mouth preparing the ejection of venomous lies into the atmosphere between the two. No friendship should ever start with lies, yet the vampire could care less at the moment, and luckily thanks to his innate nature, they come as naturally to him as breathing does a mortal. 

    “So,” he says, struggling to bring some sweetness to his tone, the wet tip of his language articulator grazing past his upper lips. “I asked for you, and only you, because Ralph informed me, although I do not know how he amassed or concluded… that Gleeon is a magic user. And in this mission that I am about to undertake, any hints or semblance of sorcery will be sniffed out, and the entail fails before it even has a chance to begin. And so I ask you, who was mortal same as me long ago. I will reward you, of course. Fifty thousand dollars. In hand, shortly after, we bring word to my employer of our success.”

    Some silence follows the mention of such an outrageous amount of money but is filled in soon when the leech speaks again. “I will not lie; it’ll be dangerous, for sure. I can, however, guarantee your safety - you have my word as a gentleman.”

    Oh, Robin.

  • A slow blink. Once, then followed by another. Scarlett wonders if Valery is making a joke about his own appearance beneath the bandages, but his commitment to the bit gives her doubts. She supposes it's entirely within her ability to do away with Valery's problem regarding his deformities should he so desire. But that would require a relic, a wish, or worse; both. Too risky. The less these people know about her, the better. Whatever kindness Valery extends to her is no reason to become attached or go soft. She sighs softly, her gaze falling away from the mage as he gestures for her to follow him.

    Led outdoors, Scarlett doesn't bother to stop the scowl as they approach the lake. As expected, the air becomes cooler as they approach the water. Despite not feeling quite cold, she shivers at the subtle change in temperature and pulls her jacket tighter around herself. Her jaw clenches at Valery's whistle, irritated by the high-pitched sound but not saying a word about it. Nothing happens for a moment, but she trusts the little mage and waits.

    Quite honestly, she should have just refused to come out here because a giant water-dwelling dragon(?) dredges from the murky water. Instantly defensive, Scarlett's posture moves into something more balanced that makes it easier for her to spring into action if need be. She attempts to make it subtle, willing her closed fists to stay still at her sides. Her palms are warm, she is aware that her anxiousness over Mel is causing a flicker of heat to pulse under her skin. But, she ignores it. Tilts her chin up and stares at Mel with feigned indifference.

    "Hello, I'm Scarlett. You should have done something if you sensed me, you know. I could have killed somebody." She is curt. Not much of a pleasant greeting, honestly.

    When Tempest is mentioned, Scarlett's uncomfortable expression deepens. She steps closer to Valery and lowers her voice to an almost whisper without looking away from Mel. "I don't care what you say, but if this Tempest thing is sleeping in the lake, I refuse to go." Unnerved, she looks over her shoulder back to the house. Back to Mel. Back to Valery. Frowns deeper, then crosses her arms over her chest like a sulking child.

  • Valery's commentary leads Scarlett to extend a hand toward his face, but she pauses just inches away. "What happened to you?" She asks, head tilted.

    She thinks back on her journey here. There were no alarming signs of life when she crossed the forestry, and as ever-vigilant, as she can be, she wonders how this so-called security member could have been in the vicinity without her knowing. Since her safety is dependent upon these strange people and their oddly homely base, she decides it is in her best interest to understand the mechanics of their security systems. Or, as she fears to suspect, lack thereof. A sleeping security guard feels far too unsafe for her liking.

    With a swoop, she drops her heavy backpack onto the air mattress. Once she had checked she has everything she could need on her person, she turns back to Valery. "Please," she nods, "I'd like to meet the others. I am particularly interested in this Mel person who finds it fit to sleep on security watch." It is difficult to understand Scarlett's emotions given the almost monotonous manner she speaks. Her expression also gives little away, almost as if she were trained to keep secrets.

    The time she spends here will be minimal. Only long enough for her to wait out the chaos currently erupting within the sect; the reasons for their sudden interest in her eludes her, but she does not wish to know anything more. Knowing only brings more trouble. She wants nothing to do with them. While her life now is a far cry from peaceful, she has grown fond of the routine she has found. The sooner she can return to it, the better. She has little choice but to keep her head low and bide her time with this group for the time being. But first, she'd like some assurance of elevated security.

  • Each question directed toward her is met with a tick in her brow; the only clue to her increasing annoyance at the impromptu interview. It would not be in her best interest to pick a fight with the people she is seeking refugee with, but Gleeon's line of questioning irks Scarlett. The less these people know about her, the better. Nothing good will come from her sharing her identity so freely. Some secrets and scars are best kept hidden under lock and key. So, she worries her lips between her teeth and furrows her brow in thought as she calculates her next move. She could lie. It cannot be something too damning lest she comes to regret it later on.

    However, Valery saves Scarlett the trouble by inviting her deeper into the home with such open friendliness that it renders the woman almost speechless. She does not bother to stop the smug look she delivers in Gleeon's direction as she bypasses his line of questioning and waltzes after the small mage. I win, she seems to be saying with a pointed stare from ocean eyes.

    She makes no effort to conceal the curious manner she looks around the home. Silently cataloging the layout of the home in order to become more familiar with it. There is not anything special about this place, she thinks. At least it would appear that way on the surface. Once entering what she presumes to be Valery's room, she gazes at the personal items strewn about. It would seem this little being has a few hobbies.

    "Valery," she responds in a gentle tone as she takes the mage's hand. Her grasp is light and airy; as if she would blow away with the wind should the handshake be too rough. A soft tilt of her head that resembles a bow is accompanied by a slight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Scarlett." First name only.

    As if it were an afterthought, she looks over her shoulder to Gleeon.

    Ah.

    She's glaring at him. Apparently, she has decided her kindness will only extend to one of the two of them. "Hello, Gleeon," she says, ice in her words that holds more childish disobedience than any real malice. "I thank you for your hospitality."

This reply was deleted.

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Groups

Gleeon and Space Samurai are now friends
Monday
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Friday
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"Sup!"
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