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:
Skin Tone: Pale
Hair Color: Jet Black
Eye Color: Gold irises with black scleras
Feral Form
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.
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.
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.
~Side Characters~
Abraham Sullivan:
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:
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.
Comments
Rally? Thats actually amazing, what a fun little coincidence! We love that 😅
Thanks for the add my guy! I appreciate it!
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.”
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.
it would be my pleasure ))
He listened attentively as well as he could when the other man spoke, but the infernal face of the unrelenting sun constantly bearing down over the vampire’s neck was starting to have an ill effect on him, invoking feelings of immense seething irritation, anger and frustration. The darkness was beginning to stir within his chest, having been starved and prodded for far too long. Consequently, Robin was starting to drool like a mad dog over the ripe and possible prospect of sinking claws or fangs into his next victim. In his head, vile scenarios of ending a life played happily, like flipping through image cards, with each one progressively becoming grimmer and more imaginative than the last. Yet, despite that, the bloodsucker got the bulk of the story to sink into his head. But he highly doubted its validity once it did, weighing it against reason. Because how could it be anything but a right load of old codswallop? Because the whole thing seemed as if ripped from one of the pages of a Jules Verne novel. Like a silly sort of fantasy, like Tír na nÓg. Then again, he thought, challenging his rational mindset about what he thought he knew in his human life. Because of course, back then, the idea of the walking undead had once had him laughing wildly with disbelief. And, well, considering what he himself was…. So who’s to say that Abraham’s queer story does not yet have a speck of truth to it, if not all? Looking at the photograph given, Robin finally says with a voice that betrays his discomfort, “This - this is…a lot of information to take in.” He didn’t say anything more, and the photo was returned in awkward silence. Robin was hardly convinced, not just yet. Meanwhile, Ralph, the short American-Italian man, tugged on Robin’s sleeves. He pulled him off to the side rather sharply and with surprising strength for a guy of his stature.
The short cab driver excused himself, head flipping like he was in a L'Oréal commercial, back to Abraham and Gleeon, showing them a fake smile across his puffy cheeks. “Excuse us, gentleman,” He said. An entire arm was then wrapped around the vampire’s side. His voice was toned down so as the others could not hear. “Look, Robin,” he begins, licking his chops to prep his lips for sum ‘smooth’ talking. “I know you're hangry. You got a perpetual bitch face going. But unless you want to piss these people off, I suggest you reel it in a little.”
To this, the vampire responded coldly, with a hint of a warning hiding beneath the tone of his voice. Swiftly came his reply, “If you have something to say, I suggest you do so quickly. My patience is thin as paper.”
The warning was taken, but Ralph was hardly perturbed. He continued in the same manner as before. “Yes, well. My idea,” he clears his throat, “and no need to quote my brilliance here, but look, here ya have an opportunity, Rob. You clearly need some help; you aren’t going to be yourself until night, right? And the clock is ticking, ain’t it? So why don’t ya go over there and simply ask for some help?” The idea seemed almost to be some sort of a lark to Robin. An amused smirk spread across the vampire’s cheek, imagining all manner of torture to befall these newfound ‘friends’ on the journey ahead. It amused him, and he hated that it did. He stopped his smile from infecting the rest of his face, wiping away all traces of emotion, negative or positive. But before that, he could not help but express his scepticism in passing. He opened his lips, speaking with an uncharacteristic voice of contempt, asking with a hiss, “I’d drag them into this? A mortal?” Ralph shook his head. “See, now you are talking mosquito lingo, even. Stop that. Just go over there and ask for help. I’m betting they’re willing to listen if you offer them the right carrot. Just don’t offer any of ‘em money. I had my hands all over that car. Those babies ain’t lackin’ for cash. And I’d say you should only offer that geek. If push comes to shove, you can yeet his punk ass out. Don’t bring the sorcerer, though, yeah? I can smell a goodie-two-shoe magic user from miles away. And for fuck sake, hurry. I don’t wanna add Dracula to the paper list of people who want me dead, or else I’ll feel bad for being the root cause of deforestation. Ya getting me, pal? So swallow that vampiric bloodlust and go be a smooth diplomatic asshole.”
Ralph was right, and he loathed that he was - the little imp was getting on his nerves. But he was right. With an intentional sigh, the bloodsucker shook free of the little man and joined the two, Abraham and Gleeon, in front of the tank. “I’m sorry. I had a momentary lapse of character. I am unused to being in the daylight in… in such a condition as this. But I wonder, may I have a moment alone? Just between Abraham and me?” That last question was directed towards Gleeon.
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