Remember me?
I am everything
you could not control
S Y N O V A
M O R T I F E R A
S h a d o w F o x || O l d G e r m a n i a n O r i g i n || ~500 y e a r s
"Syn" || "The Shade" || "That Damned Fox"
The Mortifera's Shadow
Bouncer of the Sanctum Café
> THE FOX varies in size: he is able to increase and decrease in size at will depending on the amount of darkness cast over the area. His figure can range from a small, ghost-like silhouette upon the wall, to a seemingly normal vupine, to a monstrous amalgam of eyes and teeth.
The shadow swirls and flicks like smoke every time the fox moves, not unlike a candle freshly blown out.
The darker the area and the thicker the shadow, the stronger and larger Synova can become.
> MILKY WHITE irises lack a pupil and to throw a white, lantern-like glow, which highlights a wry grin that remains a prominent feature etched across his carefully-chiseled features.
That grin,
that damned G R I N is hardly quick to fade
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- The fox has a f a c e -
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> There is not much to say of his "Dweller" form, or "Stolen Skin" as he calls it, for it was taken in a time of dire need. Synova snuffed out the life, the very soul that inhabited the body and claimed the shell as his own.
This humanoid shell stands at a height of approximately 5'10", and bares ink-black hair against pale physiognomy.
He has the EYES of a Fox: they are Striking gold in color with vertical pupils when he wishes them to be.
Charismatic ✔ Meticulous ✔ Bold ✔ Determined ✔
Egocentric X Presumptuous X Blatant X Audacious X
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> IT IS needless to say that Synova is an incredibly sly, cunning, and quick creature. He will use his sharp skills to his advantage, and is known to manipulate others to his will.
He is a rather arrogant and oftentimes presumptuous individual who tends to prod at other people’s nerves using discreet tricks and sarcastic snaps to push his company to the limit. These are usually mere tests to see if they are "worthy" of his company, or could possibly be useful to him in some way, shape or form. Either that, or he simply finds you interesting.
Synova is not the sort who will easily resort to physical violence, and takes little pleasure in blood-drenched rampages. However, If one succeeds in crossing him, Syn will be more than willing to stoop to the lowest of lows to get back at them, using dirty tricks and debouched strategies to make the offender suffer sevenfold.
He enjoys the occasional cold-blooded hunt, but prefers to not waste the effort on needless activity
Synova is very intelligent and has a talent for strategic planning. Yet surprisingly, he is oftentimes incredibly lazy and bears a lack of moral motivation. He chooses to scheme, hunt, and "work" on his own, unless he knows he will be able to get something out of working with others. Never before has he helped another out of the "goodness of his heart." The Fox always has reasons behind everything he does. He lacks empathy for the most part, so he cares little for taking lives or putting others in danger to meet his own goals.
However, there are a few... particular, and exceedingly rare exceptions to this.
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Comments
Risky indeed. It was a wonder that the HSHQ did not sense such a strange specimen among them. He was tall, dark, handsome as the devil. He got wayward glances from some, concerned looks from others. Witches whom narrowed their eyes at him as if attempting to pinpoint who this strange man was were nervous in seeing him. But they could not, who could they get mad at one whom was just here like the rest of them? Just a hunter helping the least fortunate of people to cross paths with a supernatural, sadly they were fully mistaken.
Alice was indeed alone in her room. The smell of pumpkin latte was coming out the room like ribbons of smell through the air. Music was also heard, the hum of it drumming from the door that he was making his way to. Jason was out seeing his daughter, a place that perhaps Synova himself might be able to trek down too if he knew the right places to be, but it looked like the fox that Alice had only seen once, long ago at a holiday party was coming too.
The taps at the door paused her, she looked up as to who that might be. Jason knew better than to knock, he knew to come in. Nobody dared to speak to her, she as not a talkative person, so who the fuck was this. She knew better than to ignore it should it be something important so she paused the music--Micheal Jackson at the time--and swung her legs off of the bed towards the door. It was swung open within the next moment and she laid eyes on the man that seemed to be seething shadows off of him like a radiator. Her chocolate cold eyes took him in then those brows turned downward. "Who are ya an' what do ya want?"
Was his statement heard? Jason hardly thought so. Yet he knew they had to have been; the man was hardly so soft spoken that they wouldn't. Frozen in place where he had found himself, until the final confirmation was given. The silence- the tension between the stare was something that felt as if it were ready to snap like a rubber band. To what response was given, there was no telling the actions of either. Any could get him killed just as quick as the others.
The gap he had given himself was diminished to none with the fox's strides forward. Leaning back heavily on one of his heels, Jason would find himself still. His jaw tightened when persistent words came. There was a subtle twitch of his fingertips, the inventory of what he had on him running through his head out of habit.
His stare dropped to the hand offered in front of him with less certainty than was present going in. His lips pursed, and he gave a shake of his head. "You can collect your down payment, you'll find it in the theatre... I'm out."
Amusement was hardly shared between one and the other as a stern expression landed on Jason’s face. As he listened along, the imagery he had come to in talking to Donivan once more entered his head. The child, the house, the flames. Perhaps he had known all along what side the fox lingered on within the story. He still didn’t know what to make of it moving onward. When the fox gave an itinerary until morning come, he said not a word. Sorting out what was overloading his thoughts already.
The silence was a shared thing for the next expanse of time. Without eye contact offered, he still kept his stare on the obsidian creature’s form as if it would slip out of his vision if he didn’t. Was there more to be said, or was he going to be left at that? Words were forming in his throat to be spoken if it was the case, but before he knew it Synova’s tone drifted through the air once again.
“So it wasn’t the kid, the family, not Donovan… it was the whole damn army.” Jason muttered as if to note bitterly, all the while Syn’s current human form had shrugged. He fell back into listening, weighing this information in his head. What would have happened, then… if Donovan had known of the fox’s presence? Was there any stopping what had happened? And the amalgamate of a creature that had forced its way into the library?
Before a hypothesis came, Syn continued on to answer promptly. The further along, the more it put a pit in the man’s stomach. Remembering the Devourer, the flames. Putting forth an image to his head. “And if they had never infiltrated… the building wouldn’t have burned, then?” Jason suggested. Around the corner they turned, his boots stopping on the pavement not long after the other had. To the sight of the scroll being unrolled, hesitation shone in blue hues. There was something in the air. Something in his gut that was telling him to take a step back.
“Some third party, or the kid himself, then.” Jason concluded under his breath. The words seemed dissociative as his mind lingered elsewhere. So he’d killed the man on purpose. Maybe he should’ve been asking himself why he cared. What the matter had to do with him, and- …well, that’s just about all he was thinking about.
“I’m out.” He spoke. Just as fast as the words came as conclusion. Jason stared back at Synova almost startled that he had said it aloud. Something of a wild look in his eyes while his expression was stone cold. “Unless you’re planning on telling me the whole damned story, but you don’t seem like the type to do it, are you. You’re gonna have to find some other pawn. I’m out.” The man spoke lowly, a bit more certain of himself. A couple steps back were taken to accompany it.
Sounds seemingly bounced off the walls of the library space, none louder than the pounding of the man's own heart in his ear drums. In a place where very little sense was allowed to be made, given the split seconds that accumulated into his time within the library. As for the current, those split seconds erupted in what were the sounds of the beast's thrashing. The slightest of attempt to glance back were given, attentive to the creature at hand as well as the cryptic task given.
To the sight of the child, Jason's heels pressed to the ground in an attempt to stop himself, shifting direction to follow best he could. Silence struck him no differently than as if a cold air had swept through the building. A wayward glance was cast over his shoulder to where he had once precariously checked for the whereabouts of the amalgamate. The screeches lingered as absent, replaced by the footsteps. Heeding the warning, Jason glanced back to the fox nearly apprehensively before his back turned again. Listening in what was silence until the huddled frame of the youth was found.
"Here you have it. What the hell's next?" Jason muttered quietly. A tone accustomed to the quiet that was the once-library space. The man's jaw tightened ever so slightly as the boy was hoisted upwards. He wasn't a child killer. And yet, it wasn't his job to finish all the same, was it? Taking a pose as still as a statue, the fate of the child was all but decided in his eyes. As the flames rose up, a brow furrowed to the withering of the second entity. Had he imagined that? All concentration would hardly stop a subtle flinch to the grasp of his wrist, eyes snapping to the fox.
Jason took long strides in pursuit of the doorway, leaving the building behind while there still was a building to linger. "...Do you feel like telling me what the hell is going on here, yet?" The man had the gaul to finally ask, feeling heat on his shoulders dissipating the further they went. "It was you then, wasn't it. You set the place ablaze back then... purple flames and all?" While adrenaline worked wonders on getting him to open his mouth, his feet were moving quicker.
Until suddenly, they weren't. Practically running into the other he forced his boots to halt. Blue hues snapped wide open. His jaw tightened once more, and seemingly every muscle in his shoulders-up went rigid. He should've moved. He should've ripped his head back, and yet, he seemingly couldn't. Jason's stare came as a mix of something aggressive, and confusion. Stuck frozen peering back at golden hues that housed something violent they hadn't prior. When released... he let a breath escape that he hadn't realized he was holding. Shaken, was a word of choice over the matter.
"Young kid, acting strange, speaking to imaginary friends in his room. Obsessed about it, he said. Drew pictures of an animal of some sort and put them over the walls. You wouldn't know anything about that... now would you?" His eyes settled heavily on Synova. "He said people might've thought he started the fire that took out the Soulbound's royal family... Violet flames." The ending word lingered to leave a sour taste in his mouth, the further he thought. Jason's tone of voice dropped as he continued. "So, what do you know about all of this..?"
An amused snort bubbled up from his smirking lips. Nose crinkled in amusement. “Only a monster who hasn’t been caught.” Wasn’t it so? Gods were adored because none of their transgressions were aired for all to see. Yet monsters, around every corner, were labeled and categorized with defining attributes. Ask any mortal and they’d practically give you a formal for your average monster.
But Gods. They were undefinable. They had yet to be categorized and every action they took, every word said, it’d all remained hidden because ‘only the privileged’ have the right to know.Gods were no better than Monsters. They were all monsters in the end. Mild shock from those flames made his eyes widen. The only one who’d be able to notice is the kind of creature that looks for that sort of thing. “Glad I didn’t disappoint.”
His movements were supernaturally quick. Careful not to blink or else, Synova might miss his movements. Apollo’s torso curved just enough for the blade to pass as he avoided it. Narrowly missing Apollo struck out by wrapping a quick hand around Synova’s wrist firmly. Some might be more focused on disarming their enemy, but Apollo’s caustic smirk only grew wider. He yanked the arm he held onto forward, dragging Synova with it, right towards the knee Apollo hoped to impale into his enemies gut.
Harsh wisps of smoke drifted upward into the night air like oil in water. There was no smooth exhalation from his lungs as the smoke snaked from his lips slowly. For a moment, he considered himself a dragon and not a blood sucker, a devour, a monster. An anomaly even for his kind. Whatever everyone wanted to put a name to it. Who fucking cared. Certainly not him. Not now.
One hand held upward so that glacial hues stared into the burning cherry end of the cigar. The glow held no comparison to the vermilion flash in his edged eyes. Behind him, the deep bass of the music reverberated from the speakers within the club. Yet there he stood, behind the bar, with bad intentions and intoxicating vices. Ears twitched at the heavy footfalls of the approaching stranger.
One monster to another his lips curled into a caustic smirk. Heavy was the head that wore the crown and for a night, he was ready to cast it all aside. This shit torn kingdom made of blood and bones. What would be left when he was done if the only thing he brought in his wake was death? Shadow cast from platinum locks over his eyes. “Tell me,” he mused as he puffed on the cigar once more. “Have the Gods finally come to claim my soul?”
Because let’s be real, what man named Apollonius or Apollo, didn’t think that one day the Greek God Apollo would come to smite him for all the dishonor he wrought on the name? There’s no denying the instant identification Gold in the stranger's eyes or the foreign dagger from a world he doesn’t know. “I’ll warn you though,” he growled through the caustic smirk. Fangs evident in that smile. “Don’t expect me to go quietly or at all.” In the seconds it took the stranger to close the distance between them the cigar made a slow free fall for the asphalt.
The swing was a success in severing flesh, which, seemingly had long since been expired from whatever life it might have once had to it. The weapon finished out its course with the lack of resistance, yet the shrill sound that left the morbid creature caused his ears to flatten against his skull, a step or two taken back. The club was returned to neutral, held tight in a two handed grip waiting for the next move of the devouring beast.He watched as the bones and shards gathered, knees bent some to whatever oncoming atta-
Kei's body went rigid and he flinched at being pulled back. Registering the arm far too late for any other movement, doing his best to keep grip on the weapon in the very least. When he stopped moving his head whipped to the source. Pose gave away his confusion mixed fear, staring towards the unfamiliar figure briefly before the voice was of a source he couldn't mistake. The collision abruptly took his eyes off the fox, to the bookcase where the Devourer had landed itself.
The space went up in flames. A hand was taken off the club to raise up to in front of his torso, expecting nothing less than flames until he noticed the fox's hand raised. Incantations spoken.
The cat saw something move out of the corner of his vision. With a turn of his head, a chill could have gone down his spine to the surprise. There was the librarian. He caught the sight of crimson midst the carnage, the tendril bored through the man's chest with so little as a pulse to be spared soon enough. There was a pit in the man's stomach as the chaos has unfolded within the space.
A moment's hesitation was given to the remembrance of the child in the space. Back when he had stepped inside to a calm atmosphere. When the man's reaction was the greatest fear he may have had to the evening, but no. Kei started moving. The sound of flesh being cut came down like a lightened guillotine in the space. Turning a wayward glance back he saw not the head of Donovan... but the absence. For a moment he lingered frozen.
What the hell is going on, here..!? Why did he!? How did this?
Jason, get your fucking head straight.
It's a job. That's all there is to it. Subtle reminders were repeated in his head as the bookshelves were now scoured through, mindful of the exits of the space. As he moved, blackened dust fell off his form and the flesh of his face returned as humane. His hues opened a moment after, sweeping around the space in search of the child.
Jason watched the man take up combat with what seemed to be little more than the air in the room itself. He watched as there was a ripple. A disturbance. Something hidden in its own cloak in the space and yet there was no doubting something was there. Very much there, as he watched Donovan take a swing. The weapon hitting something. No trick of the hand could get a weapon to stop on a dime like it had.
His eyes snapped from the disturbance to Donovan more directly in the calling of his name. His words came with a chill he was certain wasn't just shock of the event. Natural temperature wouldn't change in such a way either. His vision shifted. Even with the curse taking over his being, his normally crystal clear vision shifted. The ringing in his ears made quick work of flattening those now feline-like upon his head. The noise rang irritably in his head turning acute hearing into a downside all the same. They grew closer and closer to his skull the more the sounds leeched out of the vague distorted image of the...
Devourer!? Fuck.
The ringing was entirely too much, and he let the curse falter for the sake of saving his head. Although human wasn't any better it was still the difference of high definition or not. Jason stared up at the sight, reluctant to drop the weapon to cover his ears. His eyes weren't working right, worse if anything. Yet the clearer it became the more his eyes widened. Jaw dropping even. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was something left without comprehension the more and more he caught details of the creature towering upon the second floor. Donovan's actions no longer left to the imagination he watched the being's appendages lash out time and time again. What in hell's name..?
He had his own problems coming closer, it seemed. Eyes upon the staircase he took in the sight of the... thing creeping its way closer. The grip on the bladed club he was granted tightened, attention less on why he had the weapon and more so to the fact that he was gonna need it. He flinched when the blackened mess of tar and flesh jumped down. Instinctively flesh withered to bone and the curse returned, ringing or not. It was reaching closer... and closer. And closer. Kei tensed and once more secured his grip on the weapon. When the thin fingers of the creature reached too close for comfort, he pulled the club back and took a hard swing defensively.
"Fucking emo."
|| Notice me,Senpai.
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