"You'd better watch your step around that one, they say he knows black magic"

(Story is a work in progress)

Brown eyes | Black hair | Bronze skin

Zeke has a strong athletic physique. The man is fond of boxing and has the body to prove it; his muscles are toned and bare real strength as opposed to being simply for looks. His skin is unblemished and bares no tattoos, his only scars exist on the palms of his hands where he has used blood for rituals and spells. Zeke stands six feet and four inches tall making him quite the intimidating man though often his eyes tell a different story; filled with unpredicted friendliness even toward strangers. These eyes can however turn into quite the haunting stare should someone make themselves an enemy. It's rare Zeke dons facial hair though if he does it is light and never longer than the hair on his head; which is always kept short. Zeke prides himself on his appearance and is admittedly somewhat vain.

Healing | Spirit summoning | Curses

Ever since Zeke was a child he was able to speak to the dead. Over time this connection has only grown stronger. Zeke can only see the dead if he concentrates his power, though their voices never fully leave him. Selecting a specific spirit, Zeke can summon it and allow it to speak through him- this can be a particularly dangerous act for if he finds a powerful demon it may not wish to leave his body or latch onto someone else if he is holding a seance. Zeke can also bind a spirit to a person, object or building providing there is no blessing on the object or building ahead of time. If they have not been blessed prior to the binding the only way to remove it is to seek forgiveness from Zeke and ask him to remove it or get some divine blessing more powerful than the spirit bound. Zeke can also curse people, surround them in a negative aura and cause unlucky things to happen to the specific person. An example of this would be causing the loved ones of the cursed person to die tragic deaths within a specific time range. The bigger the influence the more power the curse requires and energy it drains from Zeke. Each curse eats away at a section of Zeke's soul meaning he uses these very rarely. Zeke's primary subject is healing. Despite all the harm he is able to cause for his own personal gain healing brings him more joy than anything else he's able to do. Healing always requires ingredients and participation from the subject's side though over time he has had a complete success rate. This could bring him fame and fortune should he share his gift with the world however he chooses to keep it mostly secret along with the rest of his powers. Some people are simply meant to die and immortality is much more a curse than a blessing.


Zeke is a fragile little human. Please don't permanently damage him. A few scars are alright but a missing limb is not.

I'm open to any sort of subject, providing it fits in with the storyline we roleplay. Violence and dark themes are more than welcome here.

I can't be here all day and night, I'm also on a different time zone to most on here. Please bare this in mind.

Threads: Open

Ghost of winter's past: Owe reply

Ellison (pm's): Owe starter

Josh Washington: Owe reply

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  • (Hello! Was wondering if you'd care to write sometime~ I know you're away now, just figured I'd leave this here for later! Hope to speak with ya soon!)

  • *Temporary hiatus due to health*

    Y'all haven't been forgotten about. Might be gone a week or two.

  • HOLLYWOOD HILLS, Washington Mansion, 11:32

    At first there was a feeling of dread, of something not quite right, an itch or mist upon the horizons of his mind. He could feel the hard painful lump in the back of his throat as the tears began to form. "N-NO no no no no, not AGAIN!" Slowly his breathing hallowed itself and a small but intense pain struck the top nerve in his head. Before he knew it, or could recognise the voice, there was shouting. They weren't his, yet they seemed so distant, yet so near and familiar to him. He couldn't quite place their origin. Tears streaked across his face, staining his shirt. "I....don't want THIS. STOP. P-please" He is whimpering now, like a whipped dog.

    He stared forwards, at the monochrome wall ahead of him as he sat crouched atop of his bed in an almost fetal position. It was then that he heard it again, that scream which made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. It came from within the wall.

    A blood curling scream from someone trapped, in pain and needing help. He could hear them...or it...pounding now, pounding against the paper-thin walls. And then, that all too familiar voice again, and this time, he knowing just who it was.

    "Help me, JOSH. HELP. It's lonely in here. SUFFOCATING."A crack appeared on the wallpaper as Hannah spoke, pleading for help from her dear brother. Small and barely noticeable, yet a trail of red blood came pouring out, running down and pooling at the floor. And then, all of the sudden, the entire thing cracked wide open and intestines spewed onto the floor in pinkish brown coils along with a shit ton of blood. He noticed then amongst the gore lay his poor sister Hannah. Lifeless. Her brown hair was scattered in multiple places, stained with dried blood; crimson. Her emerald green eyes were wide open, but her jade irises held a sudden sadness. Her body was slumped over, half-sitting, half-laying on the many intestines decorating the mahogany floor and maggots, flecks of doughy white, nestled within her mangled flesh, feverishly squirming into hunks of gore. A foul stench emanated from the entire scene, and Josh would recoil, look away,  but he didn't. He couldn't look away and betray his sister once more. 

    He knew somewhere inside that what he saw, that it wasn't real and just a figment of his fragmented mind. But that didn't stop him from feeling regret, pity and longing for being with his two sisters again.

    A sudden PING woke him from his haze and he stared around, eyes darting madly around the room. It was normal. He was okay. It had been just another trick of his own inner demons. He was shaking like a leaf. He needed some air and so he pulled himself out of bed, slid into some pants and trudged on out of the house. His mum wouldn't like him leaving without supervision, but he figured he wanted to go some place. Without being watched and or followed by her, that is. He'd get scolded when he returned. But right now he set his sights on downtown, which lay...quite a long walk from Hollywood Hills.

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