Landon Factor
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_2337525.jpg)
Landon Factor
Fallen
Tattoo Maker and Psychopathic Murderer
Landon Alexander Factor, codename "Factor", is one of the more dangerous Fallen this side of the world. He's mentally unstable and suffering from antisocial personality disorder, making him a heartless, remorseless killer. He's no petty criminal. Anyone would be a fool to go after him. Fallen may beware as well. He's quite the spontaneous one. He looks about twenty, has fair skin, and very soft, light blonde hair, unruly and wavy. His eyes are a bright green, with darker green centered around his pupils. He's muscular, athletic, and has a very well toned body because of it. His most prominent scars are along his chest. He smiles, but it's a ruse. He loves to kill and be killed. He will cut you up and tear you apart in any way he sees fit. Multicolored tattoos run up and down his entire left arm. He looks happy most of the time and carefree.definitely not appearing as the criminal type. But one wrong move, one moment of letting your guard down, and he'll rip you in two for so much as looking at him funny. If there's one thing he likes, it's killing. If there's another thing he likes, it's art. Only because of his power. From a young age, he was curious, creative, and exceptionally happy. It's not a happiness normally expressed by young children, for what sort of child laughs with unsurpassed glee when they just choked an infant animal to death? A child like Landon of course! But when he discovered that the stick figures he drew came to life, he became inspired. His art became his tool of murder. Everything he draws, paints, sculpts, or otherwise, comes to life at his will. The only downside, would be that any injury they received would be felt by him, but he avoided this obstacle simply enough or simply ignored the pain. He became an amazing artist, mostly drawing demonic, disturbing creatures that he would then send out to kill people. He loved killing, though it is odd to say so since feeling like "love" and happiness are rarely, if never, felt by someone with antisocial personality disorder. For years he went unnoticed, for who would ever bother to look at a little boy when there was no reason for it. He never left a trail behind, never a trace. But some of the kids he lived near always whispered rumors about him. The blonde haired boy with the bright smile, and the sketchbook with bloodstained pages. Now he is an adult and a full fledged criminal, escaping to the Organization to avoid the nuisance of the police. Recently he has devoted his life to being an avid member of the Organization, personal intentions unknown. He's like a ghost, never being where he's supposed to and appearing in the strangest of places. He isn't even around all the time for certain killings, using his creations as an extension of himself instead. This helps him stay invisible, and keeps the description told by victims always changing. To say he's heartless isn't far from the truth. Does he have any sort of heart? Yes. The people he cares for are few and far between, but they are out there. Somewhere.
Fallen
Tattoo Maker and Psychopathic Murderer
Landon Alexander Factor, codename "Factor", is one of the more dangerous Fallen this side of the world. He's mentally unstable and suffering from antisocial personality disorder, making him a heartless, remorseless killer. He's no petty criminal. Anyone would be a fool to go after him. Fallen may beware as well. He's quite the spontaneous one. He looks about twenty, has fair skin, and very soft, light blonde hair, unruly and wavy. His eyes are a bright green, with darker green centered around his pupils. He's muscular, athletic, and has a very well toned body because of it. His most prominent scars are along his chest. He smiles, but it's a ruse. He loves to kill and be killed. He will cut you up and tear you apart in any way he sees fit. Multicolored tattoos run up and down his entire left arm. He looks happy most of the time and carefree.definitely not appearing as the criminal type. But one wrong move, one moment of letting your guard down, and he'll rip you in two for so much as looking at him funny. If there's one thing he likes, it's killing. If there's another thing he likes, it's art. Only because of his power. From a young age, he was curious, creative, and exceptionally happy. It's not a happiness normally expressed by young children, for what sort of child laughs with unsurpassed glee when they just choked an infant animal to death? A child like Landon of course! But when he discovered that the stick figures he drew came to life, he became inspired. His art became his tool of murder. Everything he draws, paints, sculpts, or otherwise, comes to life at his will. The only downside, would be that any injury they received would be felt by him, but he avoided this obstacle simply enough or simply ignored the pain. He became an amazing artist, mostly drawing demonic, disturbing creatures that he would then send out to kill people. He loved killing, though it is odd to say so since feeling like "love" and happiness are rarely, if never, felt by someone with antisocial personality disorder. For years he went unnoticed, for who would ever bother to look at a little boy when there was no reason for it. He never left a trail behind, never a trace. But some of the kids he lived near always whispered rumors about him. The blonde haired boy with the bright smile, and the sketchbook with bloodstained pages. Now he is an adult and a full fledged criminal, escaping to the Organization to avoid the nuisance of the police. Recently he has devoted his life to being an avid member of the Organization, personal intentions unknown. He's like a ghost, never being where he's supposed to and appearing in the strangest of places. He isn't even around all the time for certain killings, using his creations as an extension of himself instead. This helps him stay invisible, and keeps the description told by victims always changing. To say he's heartless isn't far from the truth. Does he have any sort of heart? Yes. The people he cares for are few and far between, but they are out there. Somewhere.
Severin Gael
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_7644068.jpg)
Severin Gael
Fallen
Bodyguard, Head Hunter, and Assassin
Severin Gael is a lean, tall young man with cruel teal eyes and soft, blue-green hair that falls into his face all the time. He has pale skin, to the point it has a frosty luster to it. He is primarily seen in black and teal, his trademark colors. He prefers his shirts baggy and boots to shoes. He has a quiet, aloof air, and some kind of superiority. Like he's better than most people. He doesn't say it or act like it, its kind of an aura he gives off. Severin is soft spoken and well mannered. He doesn't talk unless someone's talking to him or if its necessary that he does. He can be very poignant and outspoken on occaisons. Just blurting stuff out wether he really means to or not. He hates beating around the bush and likes to arrive at the point. His bluntness gets him into trouble on and off, especially among other violent folk of the Clans. He doesn't seem to care what people think of him but he seems to care a lot about his impressions of other people. A first impression better be the best impression on earth because that is what will solidify in his memory. Unless he can watch the person grow and change, he has low expectations about them. He is one of the most violent MoonClan members you shall ever meet. He kills first and doesn't bother asking questions later. It is extremely unlikely that he won't kill people right off the bat. He won't even say hi or make his presence known. He'll just come to life and stab someone in the heart before they can say "Severin". His only reservation seems to be towards little children or people he presumes are weak and not worth his time. It seems to be his unspoken goal to kill everything and everyone that so much as dares to breathe on this planet. He still retains human emotions though and human conscience, he's not a heartless killer. He just has the drive the annihilate driven to the max. Another out of whack trait about him is his sense of smell. He's like a bloodhound. Picking up the faintest of smells, able to distinguish things just by their presence. This is a bit of a plus as he is partially blind in his right eye. The vision comes on and off in that eye which gets downright annoying and irritating. Without his greater sense of smell, he would be fumbling about and probably be very dead right now. Speaking of stumbling, he seems to have a habit of stumbling into the thick of danger. He doesn't mind it so much. It's a way for him to test the extent of his ability: physical strength, senses, strategy, etc. Whatever is he doing here one might ask? What a perfect question. The Underworld. That was his home for so many years. A mere Fallen with suppressed powers, recently come to this beautiful, heart rending sphere called Earth, only to be shackled and dragged down into the fiery pits of hell. Then the evil came. It tainted him. Ruined him. Suffered him. He doesn't remember it though. Remembers absolutley nothing of the pain and the fear and the darkness that plagued him. His memory began when he returned to Earth. Awakening somewhere in a dark forest, then running off into the night to kill some woman he never knew. That someone left their mark though. While he attacked her relentlessly, she gained the upper hand and tore his left arm clean off. He would have died had it not been for a passerby who heard his screaming. A different person. A young girl. He doesn't remember her very well either, but he knows she saved his life. He has a single memento of her. A pocket watch. Engrained in its lid is the scene of a mystical ballerina twirling in the snow. When he opens it, music plays. Like a little music box, only it makes far more sounds than the gentle tinkling of ordinary boxes. He keeps it with him, though he doesn't know why. He isn't the sentimental type after all. He distantly remembers waking up, holding the pocket watch in his hand. He was in some, forgotten alley, the girl nowhere in sight. He smelled blood. Heard screaming. Thought it was the girl. So he stumbled to his feet and sought her out. Sought out the screaming and the fear. What he found was not the girl, but some woman. He saved her, her attacker being a vampire no less. When she recognized him to be Fallen, she had him unwillingly join up with the group of Fallen, since she had some authority over them as part of the Organization, though he paid her little to no heed. He doesn't know why he lets himself be dragged about by these people or why he follows their orders. All he knows is they feed him. Not food. They feed his instinct. His instinct to kill. At first they didn't feel as threatened, seeing as he's half blind, missing an arm, and seems to suffer from some sort of memory loss or other. A possible trauma that resulted in amnesia but then they discovered his nature to kill. He has no say in the matter of his actions. Pure, unhindered instinct takes hold of him and drives him recklessly and dangerously onward. It bothers him, sure, he sometimes does wonder why he kills. He ponders about it to the same extent as someone may ponder the reason why they breathe, or why leaves grow on trees, or why water is a liquid. And the answer is always the same: because it is. There's no further explanation than that. Either it is or it isn't, and in Severin's case, killing is the nature of things. Comes as naturally as the aforementioned breathing. Severin gets about just fine in the city. He feels no need to worry about himself. Even during the cold and storms, or days when he's sick or starving, he still doesn't worry. He never really thinks about death or what would happen if he died. He just lives life in the moment, never looking ahead. He looks back though. As far back as his lost memories allow him. He remembers the people he's killed. They haunt him in his sleep.
Fallen
Bodyguard, Head Hunter, and Assassin
Severin Gael is a lean, tall young man with cruel teal eyes and soft, blue-green hair that falls into his face all the time. He has pale skin, to the point it has a frosty luster to it. He is primarily seen in black and teal, his trademark colors. He prefers his shirts baggy and boots to shoes. He has a quiet, aloof air, and some kind of superiority. Like he's better than most people. He doesn't say it or act like it, its kind of an aura he gives off. Severin is soft spoken and well mannered. He doesn't talk unless someone's talking to him or if its necessary that he does. He can be very poignant and outspoken on occaisons. Just blurting stuff out wether he really means to or not. He hates beating around the bush and likes to arrive at the point. His bluntness gets him into trouble on and off, especially among other violent folk of the Clans. He doesn't seem to care what people think of him but he seems to care a lot about his impressions of other people. A first impression better be the best impression on earth because that is what will solidify in his memory. Unless he can watch the person grow and change, he has low expectations about them. He is one of the most violent MoonClan members you shall ever meet. He kills first and doesn't bother asking questions later. It is extremely unlikely that he won't kill people right off the bat. He won't even say hi or make his presence known. He'll just come to life and stab someone in the heart before they can say "Severin". His only reservation seems to be towards little children or people he presumes are weak and not worth his time. It seems to be his unspoken goal to kill everything and everyone that so much as dares to breathe on this planet. He still retains human emotions though and human conscience, he's not a heartless killer. He just has the drive the annihilate driven to the max. Another out of whack trait about him is his sense of smell. He's like a bloodhound. Picking up the faintest of smells, able to distinguish things just by their presence. This is a bit of a plus as he is partially blind in his right eye. The vision comes on and off in that eye which gets downright annoying and irritating. Without his greater sense of smell, he would be fumbling about and probably be very dead right now. Speaking of stumbling, he seems to have a habit of stumbling into the thick of danger. He doesn't mind it so much. It's a way for him to test the extent of his ability: physical strength, senses, strategy, etc. Whatever is he doing here one might ask? What a perfect question. The Underworld. That was his home for so many years. A mere Fallen with suppressed powers, recently come to this beautiful, heart rending sphere called Earth, only to be shackled and dragged down into the fiery pits of hell. Then the evil came. It tainted him. Ruined him. Suffered him. He doesn't remember it though. Remembers absolutley nothing of the pain and the fear and the darkness that plagued him. His memory began when he returned to Earth. Awakening somewhere in a dark forest, then running off into the night to kill some woman he never knew. That someone left their mark though. While he attacked her relentlessly, she gained the upper hand and tore his left arm clean off. He would have died had it not been for a passerby who heard his screaming. A different person. A young girl. He doesn't remember her very well either, but he knows she saved his life. He has a single memento of her. A pocket watch. Engrained in its lid is the scene of a mystical ballerina twirling in the snow. When he opens it, music plays. Like a little music box, only it makes far more sounds than the gentle tinkling of ordinary boxes. He keeps it with him, though he doesn't know why. He isn't the sentimental type after all. He distantly remembers waking up, holding the pocket watch in his hand. He was in some, forgotten alley, the girl nowhere in sight. He smelled blood. Heard screaming. Thought it was the girl. So he stumbled to his feet and sought her out. Sought out the screaming and the fear. What he found was not the girl, but some woman. He saved her, her attacker being a vampire no less. When she recognized him to be Fallen, she had him unwillingly join up with the group of Fallen, since she had some authority over them as part of the Organization, though he paid her little to no heed. He doesn't know why he lets himself be dragged about by these people or why he follows their orders. All he knows is they feed him. Not food. They feed his instinct. His instinct to kill. At first they didn't feel as threatened, seeing as he's half blind, missing an arm, and seems to suffer from some sort of memory loss or other. A possible trauma that resulted in amnesia but then they discovered his nature to kill. He has no say in the matter of his actions. Pure, unhindered instinct takes hold of him and drives him recklessly and dangerously onward. It bothers him, sure, he sometimes does wonder why he kills. He ponders about it to the same extent as someone may ponder the reason why they breathe, or why leaves grow on trees, or why water is a liquid. And the answer is always the same: because it is. There's no further explanation than that. Either it is or it isn't, and in Severin's case, killing is the nature of things. Comes as naturally as the aforementioned breathing. Severin gets about just fine in the city. He feels no need to worry about himself. Even during the cold and storms, or days when he's sick or starving, he still doesn't worry. He never really thinks about death or what would happen if he died. He just lives life in the moment, never looking ahead. He looks back though. As far back as his lost memories allow him. He remembers the people he's killed. They haunt him in his sleep.
Anders Willridgemore
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_3170895.jpg)
Anders Willridgemore
Werewolf
Anders is a nineteen year old werewolf yet appears to be closer to sixteen. He's not short or anything, he just comes across as young. He's vibrant and lively, with magenta-maroon mixed hair and golden-coral colored eyes. His wolf form is a giant, blood red wolf with similar golden eyes. Anders comes across as rambunctious and a daredevil, possibly immature at times. He's always smiling, joking, pranking, teasing. But he's a surprisingly incredible leader. He has a huge amount of confidence and a bright streak of charisma. He's very smart despite his sordid screw ups on occaison. He might seem flighty and fickle, but it's his only way to feel some kind of relief from all the pressure and hardship of being the Alpha. Being an Alpha means making some of the hardest decisions, taking the greatest risks, choosing one life over another, sacrificing others for the greater good. It's hard, and many times he struggles just to push on into another day. He suffers in silence and hides behind a mask of childlike foolishness to smother the screaming, crying boy inside that wants the suffering and the pressure to end. In battle, Anders is ruthless. He will often be heard shouting out, "Take no prisoners!" and "Run them to the edges of the earth!" He will not let his enemy live to rise again. He also enjoys humiliating his defeated enemies. Where some see this as a sign of savagery, he makes no discernment. War is war. Fighting is fighting. There is no honor or shame to be found in it. Only one can get out of battle alive: him or his opponent: and by the fallen it had better be him! Anders is a strange personage: ruthless, sly, immature, promiscuous, and unpredictable. He's an effective leader, a brave fighter, and none should try and fight him for he will run them into the ground until there's nothing left.
Werewolf
Anders is a nineteen year old werewolf yet appears to be closer to sixteen. He's not short or anything, he just comes across as young. He's vibrant and lively, with magenta-maroon mixed hair and golden-coral colored eyes. His wolf form is a giant, blood red wolf with similar golden eyes. Anders comes across as rambunctious and a daredevil, possibly immature at times. He's always smiling, joking, pranking, teasing. But he's a surprisingly incredible leader. He has a huge amount of confidence and a bright streak of charisma. He's very smart despite his sordid screw ups on occaison. He might seem flighty and fickle, but it's his only way to feel some kind of relief from all the pressure and hardship of being the Alpha. Being an Alpha means making some of the hardest decisions, taking the greatest risks, choosing one life over another, sacrificing others for the greater good. It's hard, and many times he struggles just to push on into another day. He suffers in silence and hides behind a mask of childlike foolishness to smother the screaming, crying boy inside that wants the suffering and the pressure to end. In battle, Anders is ruthless. He will often be heard shouting out, "Take no prisoners!" and "Run them to the edges of the earth!" He will not let his enemy live to rise again. He also enjoys humiliating his defeated enemies. Where some see this as a sign of savagery, he makes no discernment. War is war. Fighting is fighting. There is no honor or shame to be found in it. Only one can get out of battle alive: him or his opponent: and by the fallen it had better be him! Anders is a strange personage: ruthless, sly, immature, promiscuous, and unpredictable. He's an effective leader, a brave fighter, and none should try and fight him for he will run them into the ground until there's nothing left.
Kazimierz Stryker
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_3092234.jpg)
Kazimierz Lief Stryker
Human
Owner of the Dark Wonders Emporium
Contracted to Sin
Dark chocolate hair, eyes the color of allspice, skin as smooth as newly spun silk, and a face flawless of any markings or blemishes; Kazimierz Lief Stryker is not nearly as ordinary as he looks. He is completely aware of the presence of any and all supernatural beings that inhabit the surface and shadowed workings of the world he is a part of. In the heart of the city, a poor boy commoner and one with the crowds of lowly lives that dwell in the festering sewers and streets of the proud city's inhospitality, he is well acquainted with the crime and conspiracy that taint the hearts of hundreds. His own tainted heart has long tasted the black and bitter satisfaction of anarchy, murder, and sin. He is not pure by any stretch of imagination and though many can claim innocence at young ages, he cannot. He is a wandering soul, without a purpose and searching for a calling. He has partaken of many human indulgences, particularly those dealing with the bedding of women and the acquiring of wealth. He ceased in both activities entirely not too long after his sixteenth birthday. Nearing seventeen, his life had taken an unfortunate turn of events, events he will not name. In accordance with these events, he summoned a demon and bound the creature to his will. His demon of choice; the sinister and psychotic Sin. Despite Sin's sworn duty to protect Kazimierz until the night she shall consume the boy's soul, she finds a fancy to torturing the young man, both physically and mentally. Kazimierz has nowhere near gotten used to the tortures, but he is no longer as surprised that they occur. It is a part of the demon's nature that he simply had to learn to deal with. Sin also proves maddeningly unhelpful, and doesn't care about Kazimierz' well being. Kazimierz is something of a go-to guy for anything regarding dark arts and supernatural matters. He owns a small shop called the Dark Wonders Emporium. It seems to sell interesting things enough, but in the back, it is also a black market for whatever otherworldly things he stumbles upon or steals. Some of the things he has gathered from the varied creatures he has killed; werewolf pelts, vampire fangs, and other items. Some speculate (at least those who know about Kazimierz and his shop) and spread rumor that he has a Fallen's main weapon as well, but even Kazimierz says that claim is ridiculous. Having returned to his killing, thieving ways, it appears that the young man, now seventeen, hasn't changed all that much from the way he was before he summoned Sin, but he has. He really has. It's what's on the inside that has transformed so drastically, not the outside facade he parades in. As far as anyone knows, Sin is more or less Kazimierz' servant or bodyguard, perhaps partner in crime. Not even those aware of the Supernatural know that the two of them have entered a contract. Kazimierz has a strange symbol on the back of his neck, right where the first vertebrae can be felt. He keeps it hidden by wearing collared shirts or jackets. Occasionally a choker, collar, or scarf.
Human
Owner of the Dark Wonders Emporium
Contracted to Sin
Dark chocolate hair, eyes the color of allspice, skin as smooth as newly spun silk, and a face flawless of any markings or blemishes; Kazimierz Lief Stryker is not nearly as ordinary as he looks. He is completely aware of the presence of any and all supernatural beings that inhabit the surface and shadowed workings of the world he is a part of. In the heart of the city, a poor boy commoner and one with the crowds of lowly lives that dwell in the festering sewers and streets of the proud city's inhospitality, he is well acquainted with the crime and conspiracy that taint the hearts of hundreds. His own tainted heart has long tasted the black and bitter satisfaction of anarchy, murder, and sin. He is not pure by any stretch of imagination and though many can claim innocence at young ages, he cannot. He is a wandering soul, without a purpose and searching for a calling. He has partaken of many human indulgences, particularly those dealing with the bedding of women and the acquiring of wealth. He ceased in both activities entirely not too long after his sixteenth birthday. Nearing seventeen, his life had taken an unfortunate turn of events, events he will not name. In accordance with these events, he summoned a demon and bound the creature to his will. His demon of choice; the sinister and psychotic Sin. Despite Sin's sworn duty to protect Kazimierz until the night she shall consume the boy's soul, she finds a fancy to torturing the young man, both physically and mentally. Kazimierz has nowhere near gotten used to the tortures, but he is no longer as surprised that they occur. It is a part of the demon's nature that he simply had to learn to deal with. Sin also proves maddeningly unhelpful, and doesn't care about Kazimierz' well being. Kazimierz is something of a go-to guy for anything regarding dark arts and supernatural matters. He owns a small shop called the Dark Wonders Emporium. It seems to sell interesting things enough, but in the back, it is also a black market for whatever otherworldly things he stumbles upon or steals. Some of the things he has gathered from the varied creatures he has killed; werewolf pelts, vampire fangs, and other items. Some speculate (at least those who know about Kazimierz and his shop) and spread rumor that he has a Fallen's main weapon as well, but even Kazimierz says that claim is ridiculous. Having returned to his killing, thieving ways, it appears that the young man, now seventeen, hasn't changed all that much from the way he was before he summoned Sin, but he has. He really has. It's what's on the inside that has transformed so drastically, not the outside facade he parades in. As far as anyone knows, Sin is more or less Kazimierz' servant or bodyguard, perhaps partner in crime. Not even those aware of the Supernatural know that the two of them have entered a contract. Kazimierz has a strange symbol on the back of his neck, right where the first vertebrae can be felt. He keeps it hidden by wearing collared shirts or jackets. Occasionally a choker, collar, or scarf.
Jocelyn Hemsworth
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_7124303.jpg)
Jocelyn Demeter Hemsworth
Human
Human
Anselm Hemsworth
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_4489998.jpg)
Anselm Mathieu Hemsworth
Vampire
Anselm gave up his life, his soul, his everything to save his sister's life. Now she hates him. She doesn't remember anything, her memory completely altered beyond the norm. She hates her brother. Despises him. Rejects him. Enraged at the result but still thankful that at least she's alive, he has resolved to leave her alone as she asks, staying to the shadows and watching over her from afar.
Vampire
Anselm gave up his life, his soul, his everything to save his sister's life. Now she hates him. She doesn't remember anything, her memory completely altered beyond the norm. She hates her brother. Despises him. Rejects him. Enraged at the result but still thankful that at least she's alive, he has resolved to leave her alone as she asks, staying to the shadows and watching over her from afar.
Loose
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_4844795.jpg)
Loose
Demon
Loose is a small demon, appearing as a sweet, ten year old boy with unruly white hair and catlike silver eyes. He's a freak of nature and a force to be feared. He's ruthless, cunning, and though he might be a young demon, he is older than he seems, having existed for seventy years. Loose has a very potent power and one he uses often. His power is that he can manipulate the memories of others. He enjoys it in a sick, pleasurable way, always twisting people's minds to his advantages. He doesn't care if he harms them or leaves their lives in chaos, so long as he gets the results he wants. The effects may be permanent or temporary depending on the depth of concentration he uses. He also has some minor abilities based on his simply being a demon as well as his control over his demon nature and form. He can change his age appearance, going from a ten year old to a twenty year old to an eighty-five year old. He prefers his ten year old form as he is more small, agile, and able to blend in better. He cannot change his physical appearance much though. He can hide his, er, tail, and his usually pointed ears, but that's about it, his hair, skin, and eyes remaining the same. As for his tail, it's kind of mousy, long and thin, but surprisingly strong. That's another ability. He can turn the end of his tail into nearly anything, from either a snake's head to a dagger to a whip. It's strong enough for him to swing and hang from it like a monkey but also nimble and skinny enough to deal damage when he wields it like a whip. His tail is basically a second weapon. His first weapon is his naginata. He loves it dearly and loves running it through people. Loose is as loose as his name implies. He's carefree, unpredictable, free and changing as the wind, and he has no ties or loyalties to anyone. When he's a child, he's manipulating, thieving, and having fun. When he's an adult, he is wining and dining and sleeping with anything on two legs. He's rarely ever old and doesn't stick in that age for long. He loves to explore, have adventure, and just be doing whatever. Doesn't sound so bad. Hah. He's cannibalistic, eating souls, blood, organs, flesh: anything he can sink his teeth into. He uses every part of the buffalo as the saying goes. He likes killing and often takes a literal blood bath every week. The younger his victims the better. He often preys on young woman or children.
Demon
Loose is a small demon, appearing as a sweet, ten year old boy with unruly white hair and catlike silver eyes. He's a freak of nature and a force to be feared. He's ruthless, cunning, and though he might be a young demon, he is older than he seems, having existed for seventy years. Loose has a very potent power and one he uses often. His power is that he can manipulate the memories of others. He enjoys it in a sick, pleasurable way, always twisting people's minds to his advantages. He doesn't care if he harms them or leaves their lives in chaos, so long as he gets the results he wants. The effects may be permanent or temporary depending on the depth of concentration he uses. He also has some minor abilities based on his simply being a demon as well as his control over his demon nature and form. He can change his age appearance, going from a ten year old to a twenty year old to an eighty-five year old. He prefers his ten year old form as he is more small, agile, and able to blend in better. He cannot change his physical appearance much though. He can hide his, er, tail, and his usually pointed ears, but that's about it, his hair, skin, and eyes remaining the same. As for his tail, it's kind of mousy, long and thin, but surprisingly strong. That's another ability. He can turn the end of his tail into nearly anything, from either a snake's head to a dagger to a whip. It's strong enough for him to swing and hang from it like a monkey but also nimble and skinny enough to deal damage when he wields it like a whip. His tail is basically a second weapon. His first weapon is his naginata. He loves it dearly and loves running it through people. Loose is as loose as his name implies. He's carefree, unpredictable, free and changing as the wind, and he has no ties or loyalties to anyone. When he's a child, he's manipulating, thieving, and having fun. When he's an adult, he is wining and dining and sleeping with anything on two legs. He's rarely ever old and doesn't stick in that age for long. He loves to explore, have adventure, and just be doing whatever. Doesn't sound so bad. Hah. He's cannibalistic, eating souls, blood, organs, flesh: anything he can sink his teeth into. He uses every part of the buffalo as the saying goes. He likes killing and often takes a literal blood bath every week. The younger his victims the better. He often preys on young woman or children.
Luca Trune
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/_1774485.jpg)
Luca Spade Trune
Fallen Warrior
No one knows his story and few bother to ask. He's the shadow. The lone figure in the corner. The ghost that flits here and there, unsure of how to cross over. He doesn't seem to belong anywhere yet belongs everywhere at once. He's just himself. He's Luca Spade Trune, the Fallen Organization's warrior. Because he's so invisible to everyone, to say he's quiet and a loner is something of an understatement. He's not sociable whatsoever and most people don't even know what his voice sounds like. "Oh, that guy over there, what's-his-face, he's a warrior here right?" "Oh, I guess so. He's got a sword..." "Well what are you doing tonight..." And that's how an ordinary conversation will go on about him. People forget him as soon as they bring him up. On the other hand, he can be the subject of gossip. "Oo, what do you suppose he's like?" "Oo, why is he a warrior here?" "Oo, what is he all about?" He's not much of a talker and doesn't bother to explain himself. In some instances he is people's scapegoat. He doesn't seem to care about himself whatsoever, like some mindless shell that mimics life on a day-to-day basis. If anyone bothered to learn about him, they'd probably be heartbroken at how utterly pathetic he is. He's a perfect puppet, obeying any and every order giving to him, so long as it is a Fallen ordering him around. He has no free will of his own and seems devoid of all emotions. Luca is about nineteen, possibly twenty, years old. He has spiky red hair the color of cranberries and golden eyes that are so pale they are almost white. His skin is white. That's how pale it is. Not a sickly white. More like snow. It sort of compliments him. He dresses simply and is never one for theatrics or flair. He can always be seen carrying his simple katana around. On the base of the back of his neck is a tattoo of an upside down ankh. It's purpose and power is unknown to all. The tattoo suppresses all his free will, emotions, and conscience. He is an effective killer as a result.
Fallen Warrior
No one knows his story and few bother to ask. He's the shadow. The lone figure in the corner. The ghost that flits here and there, unsure of how to cross over. He doesn't seem to belong anywhere yet belongs everywhere at once. He's just himself. He's Luca Spade Trune, the Fallen Organization's warrior. Because he's so invisible to everyone, to say he's quiet and a loner is something of an understatement. He's not sociable whatsoever and most people don't even know what his voice sounds like. "Oh, that guy over there, what's-his-face, he's a warrior here right?" "Oh, I guess so. He's got a sword..." "Well what are you doing tonight..." And that's how an ordinary conversation will go on about him. People forget him as soon as they bring him up. On the other hand, he can be the subject of gossip. "Oo, what do you suppose he's like?" "Oo, why is he a warrior here?" "Oo, what is he all about?" He's not much of a talker and doesn't bother to explain himself. In some instances he is people's scapegoat. He doesn't seem to care about himself whatsoever, like some mindless shell that mimics life on a day-to-day basis. If anyone bothered to learn about him, they'd probably be heartbroken at how utterly pathetic he is. He's a perfect puppet, obeying any and every order giving to him, so long as it is a Fallen ordering him around. He has no free will of his own and seems devoid of all emotions. Luca is about nineteen, possibly twenty, years old. He has spiky red hair the color of cranberries and golden eyes that are so pale they are almost white. His skin is white. That's how pale it is. Not a sickly white. More like snow. It sort of compliments him. He dresses simply and is never one for theatrics or flair. He can always be seen carrying his simple katana around. On the base of the back of his neck is a tattoo of an upside down ankh. It's purpose and power is unknown to all. The tattoo suppresses all his free will, emotions, and conscience. He is an effective killer as a result.