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Sauron Serpentis || Adrian Barrios || Silas Cavanaugh || Jesse Llyr || Cualli Yolotli Doyle  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessTrue Name: Corryn mac Keltar Age: 122 Shift: Lycanthrope Disposition: Doyle is a quiet, gentle individual without an ounce of malice or hatred in his heart. He had been out of the general society for a long time and is a bit antiquated in his manner of speaking and the way he perceives people. His heart is larger than his brain, and he often thinks with it first -- but when it comes to those he loves and those who love him, that is never a bad thing. History: The lycan we now know as "Doyle" was born Corryn mac Keltar in the later years of the nineteenth century. He was born among a tight-knit and longstanding pack of lycans that all shared the same quality -- controlled shifting, black or charcoal-grey wolf forms, an affinity for water. It wasn't unheard-of for the whole Keltar pack to leap into the frigid waters of the North Atlantic, cavorting with the cubs and teaching them to appreciate the sea and her cleansing and healing properties. Being a lycan in Scotland was tumultuous in those days, since the Druids' rule had long since fallen and Christianity ruled with an iron cross. They were hunted as cursed beings and destroyed in the most brutal of manners. The Keltar pack lived in secrecy because the elder Alpha and his next-in-commands understood the threat and did not tempt it. But Corryn... Corryn was a naughty, inquisitive little cub. He disobeyed the commands of the Alpha and went into the town as a wolf, sniffing around the livestock and setting the shepherds' curs to barking. Those dogs knew lycans; they knew lycans very well. Lycans just didn't smell like any old wolf. Corryn fled when the attention fell upon him, but it was much too late. One of the curs tracked him to the Keltar pack's caves, deep in the hills... and the rest is grisly history. To make a horrid story short, the Keltar clan was destroyed. Having not spent much time fighting, the elders were not prepared for the onslaught, and of course the cubs weren't. They were all killed in a manner of a night -- except for little Corryn, the one who started it all. Corryn fled to the ocean and hid, his scent masked by the water and his cries muffled by the crashing, roaring surf. He was never found. Traumatized and self-loathing, Corryn left the region altogether and found himself traveling for months. He scrounged for food and became very self-sufficient by instinct and necessity. He no longer shifted to wolf form, afraid of the misfortune his parallel form brought. He soon found himself in what would soon be a bustling metropolis -- London. A Scotsman residing in that town came across the adolescent Corryn and took him in without question. Since Corryn claimed to not have a name (he was ashamed and did not want to invoke the wrath of the family he'd betrayed), the Scotsman gave him a new name and his own surname. Corryn mac Keltar became Tristan Doyle. Tristan did very well in London. He learned to suppress his emotion to ensure his survival, and he threw himself into the trade his surrogate father taught him -- blacksmithing. He became an adept metalworker and made Sir Doyle very proud; proud enough to claim him as true family even though he really wasn't. Tristan's brooding good looks also made him quite the social favorite with the young maidens, but he never pursued them. He knew karma would come for him one day for betraying his pack, and he didn't want to tempt it by trying to be happy. But eventually, he did tempt the furies, and that was when he became a young adult. He was tired of being the brooding teenager he'd always been, so on his birthday of that year, 1901, he got raving drunk and bedded one of the maidens. She ended up pregnant, which did not escape the notice of her father. Unfortunately, her father was a big, brawny, man-of-the-Lord type who did not think well of anyone bedding his daughter without asking him for her hand in marriage first. He beat said daughter until she ratted Tristan out, and then he came for Tristan. Sir Doyle was aghast at this scandal and immediately revoked his protection from Tristan, claiming he brought this upon himself and how could he, he'd been such a poster child? Tristan ran for his life like he'd been so used to doing, but Fate wasn't letting him get away with it twice. His pursuant got a few helpers and they all ran him down on their noble steeds, far from the town and far from the view of innocent bystanders. They beat Tristan to a pulp. They would've killed him, but Fate stayed their hand just in time -- She had a better plan. They concussed him quite well, and when Tristan finally recovered in an infirmary in another town, he found that his memory was faulty and no one there knew who he was. When he was released from the infirmary and they gave him back his sparse belongings, he found an iron keyholder in the pocket of his trousers. He'd made it, but he didn't remember that he'd made it. The keyholder bore five block letters, carefully and painstakingly carved: "DOYLE". That must be me, he thought. I am Doyle. From then on, in all his travels, he knew himself to be Doyle and nothing more. His memory became more and more faulty until he finally remembered nothing before the turn of the twentieth century at all. He came to the New World and eked out a meager life for himself, learning of the cruelty of all creatures and the harshness of his lot. He became even more reclusive than he had been, sometimes not speaking to anyone for months at a time, and never staying in one region for longer than a year. Doyle is by nature a brooding and lonely individual, but he does derive joy -- from being near the water. He doesn't know why, but I imagine you do, by now... History Updates: Doyle has long since regained his memory in the timeline of LegionofDarkness. He has also courted death twice and has fallen victim to death once. In the latter case, he was found by his lover, the Pride host Umbriori, and brought back to life by the Demonic Empress Ella as a gift to Umbri. Umbriori and Doyle were slated to be married when he realized that not only did he love the demon, he loved the Alpha of the LoD pack, Keket Misika Fairuza, as well. He was forced to choose between one and the other, and he chose Umbriori, but always felt as if he’d done wrong in choosing though he loved them equally. That problem was “solved” when he fell from a cliff in a drunken rage and bashed his head against an outcropping of rock. The Watcher, who is always present when Doyle knocks on death’s door, sent him back with a little gift to keep him happy and therefore out of harm’s way -- It erased the memory of Umbriori from his mind so he would no longer be tormented with his choice. Keket and Doyle’s relationship has blossomed from there. Thorin Frey Skjold  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessNickname: Thor Age: 24 Shift: None -- Disposition: One of the reasons (besides the obvious) that Thorin's nickname is "Thor" is that he's boisterous. He looks tough -- and much of the time he is -- but when he loosens up, he really loosens up. It's the extremes in his personality that makes his quieter, patient brother a good foil for him. -- History: Dane and Thorin were born fraternal twins, and shifters. They bore the mark of the skin-changer on the backs of their necks. The only way this could have happened is if they were born of one or two shifters -- and neither of their "parents" were. Their mother had been raped by a shifter but had never told their father. Their father hated them from the outset because of this, so they spent most of their youth avoiding his wrath. Knowing it was them against a world that loved to loathe them, they grew up close -- as if their twin-ness didn't already afford them extreme closeness. Their "father" abused their mother for her transgressions, and Thorin got sick of it after a while. One night, their mother knocked unconscious, Thorin flew into a sudden rage and killed the man while Dane looked on with a queer impassiveness. Thorin and Dane left Norway that same night, knowing their fate in that country was sealed... Dane Jusse Skjold  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessNickname: His brother calls him "Slither"... Age: 24 Shift: Snake, panther, fox, otter. -- Disposition: A quieter sort, though not devoid of personality for it. He is easily bemused by others, especially boisterous types -- he grew up with Thorin, it only makes sense. He is quite shy, to the point of almost being painfully so. He has a romantic side, but he rarely showcases it, to the point that some think it doesn't exist at all. A lot of his mannerisms and ideals are simply leeched from Thorin. -- History: Dane and Thorin were born fraternal twins, and shifters. They bore the mark of the skin-changer on the backs of their necks. The only way this could have happened is if they were born of one or two shifters -- and neither of their "parents" were. Their mother had been raped by a shifter but had never told their father. Their father hated them from the outset because of this, so they spent most of their youth avoiding his wrath. Knowing it was them against a world that loved to loathe them, they grew up close -- as if their twin-ness didn't already afford them extreme closeness. Their "father" abused their mother for her transgressions, and Thorin got sick of it after a while. One night, their mother knocked unconscious, Thorin flew into a sudden rage and killed the man while Dane looked on with a queer impassiveness. Thorin and Dane left Norway that same night, knowing their fate in that country was sealed... Devi Marchand  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessAge: 21 Shift: Lycanthrope. Disposition: Devi's a hellraiser, and has always been one. She's clever, snarky at times, and doesn't take shit from anyone no matter how big and bad they think themselves to be. A realist by nature, she doesn't sugar-coat or deceive -- what you see is what you get. Nine times out of ten you can find her hanging out with all guys instead of chicks, and her mindset is most definitely masculine in a lot of areas. Appearance Notes: Devi's hair is almost always swept up into a sloppy deathhawk when she's in public; undone, it tends to flop haphazardly over her partly-shaved skull. Her eyes are light brown, and she's just a bit shorter than the average female. Her clothing style is a defiant mix of deathrock, early punk, and neo-goth with a bit of vintage thrown in. History: Devi's history is about as unremarkable as it comes; born in a sleepy town in Maine and growing up hating every banal, backwoodsy aspect of it, all Devi ever thought about was 'getting out'. The feeling only intensified as she got older, and family secrets started to creep out of the woodwork. At the onset of puberty, Devi's mother began to administer a strange medication to her daughter, keeping its identity and purpose a secret. Devi bitched and moaned about it, but her mother was so adamant and fervent that Devi didn't bother trying to get out of it. She figured once she left home, the weird shit would stop. But Devi graduated high school (in a class of fifty students) and went on to college in Augusta, and mother got even more stringent. She would actually track Devi down when the time for the shots came, and the more Devi tried to avoid it, the more embarrassing it ended up being for her in the end. In Devi's third year of college, she had a bit too much of the little blue pill and fell into a feverish semi-consciousness, somehow slipping through the invisible doorway that divided Earth from the Legion and waking up in a new and unfamiliar environment... Fionn O'Reilly  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessAge: 54 Shift: Lycanthrope. Appearance Notes: Fionn is a lanky, athletic, youthful individual, his long curly hair always haphazard and tangled, his hazel eyes sparkling. Unlike many of the Legion's denizens (even other lycans), he possesses a human-like capacity for facial and body hair. His fashion sense is extremely casual, and Fionn dressing up always marks a very important occasion since he never does it. Disposition: His eternally youthful appearance is a perfect segue into his equally lively disposition. He's a voracious drinker and a notorious tease, and it is perfectly obvious how much he loves life and people in general. There are few people who've seen Fionn truly upset or angry, and they never speak of those times. History: Fionn was born to a long, robust line of O'Reillys, all of whom had made their home and living outside of the reach of humankind -- even before the Legion was formed. Fionn has actually never seen a human in his life; as soon as he was old enough, he was sent through the gateway to carry on the O'Reilly legacy in the Legion. He inherited the Tavern from his grandfather, and by that time it was already an established and well-loved business. Fionn's effervescent nature only added to its popularity, as he continued to build upon a legacy of open-door friendliness and good will. 'Everyone loves an O'Reilly' is a common saying in the Legion among its best drinkers. Simply ironic to him, since it seems that when it truly comes down to it, no one truly loves Fionn O'Reilly. Perhaps because, despite his openness, no one knows Fionn O'Reilly... Sebastiaan  Current Storyline(s): LegionofDarknessAge: Ageless; date of birth unknown as Faerie time runs differently Shift: Gryphon, dragonfly, sea otter. Appearance Notes: Sebbe's skin is slightly prismatic, glistening in any level of light; it is the most predominant evidence of his fae side. His burnished-gold eyes and hair are perfect complements to his bronzed skin, and his features are both delicate and masculine in equal measure. He tends to wear very simple clothing, if only for the ease of removal... Disposition: Sebbe is an obvious flirt, a male who enjoys being exactly what he is and enjoys the company of anyone and everyone as long as they are pleasant and honest. He is rarely given to anger and almost never given to violence, preferring to be the cool-headed one in the midst of any conflict. His confidence is sometimes mistook for conceit, but he is quite unselfconscious in reality. History: A shapeshifter gave birth to Sebastiaan in the Hedge between Faerie and the mortal realm, having been seduced by a wicked little satyr in her travels. The child was abandoned in the Hedge, the cowardly shifter convincing herself that some fae or another would take care of it. In actuality, Faerie's denizens cared little for children, preferring to let them find their own way instead of being coddled and guided into maturity. Sebbe grew up on his own, nourished by the sentient plants of the Hedge, and eventually ventured into Faerie proper. But Faerie didn't want him; his mortal blood was a stain upon his fae purity, and consequently a stain upon all of Faerie. He was shoved away, cast back into the Hedge to stumble his way into the mortal world. Shunned in this world as well, as the Wars between humankind and other-kind were just beginning, Sebbe went into hiding if only to preserve his sanity. A metaphorical hand reached out for him one night in his fae-wine-inebriated sleep, and he was pulled into the Legion by dint of his shifter blood. Within days, he had a job and a dubious identity. His first time being accepted for what he was -- except he still feels that his particular brand of genetics will always keep him distant from the rest... Sauron Pyrrhus Serpentis Current Storyline(s): -- Age: 24 Shift: Snake. -- Abilities: Shifting, manipulating his body temperature... (over time I want him to learn how to transmute his own body into water, but he cannot do it as of now.) -- Appearance Notes: HUMAN - Six feet two, well-built, bronzed skin no matter what the season. His curly hair is a golden blond hue and the subject of many compliments. He is flawlessly sculpted, the result of the good genes on both paternal sides. His eyes are what gives his second form away; they are the same in both forms and retain the attribute of a snake's. He also has delicately pointed canines, representative of the fangs he has in snake form. SNAKE - 40 inches in length, a butter-yellow color, with the same amber eyes he has in human form. In the right light, parts of his human skin can appear to be snakeskin. -- Disposition: Sauron is a wicked sort, the kind you wouldn't leave your impressionable daughter or sister around alone even if he's not likely to do anything with her. He is arrogant, haughty, and yet... somehow, he manages to charm people into liking him. Everything he does is simply a cover, to make himself feel more normal and more human. Like a snake, he can be manipulative and conniving as well, but this trait of his only comes out when done wrong. Hell hath no fury as Sauron scorned... 
--History: Sauron was born of a human female and a snake spirit in human form. His upbringing was uneventful and relatively normal, hence his apparent stability. But there was always something a little... unconventional about the male. It is a little known fact among those that have known and even loved him over the years that what dominant, arrogant Sauron desired most was to be able to feel -- pain, touch, whatever. He was born with diminished nerve endings in his human form that only weakened as time went on, rendering him unable to physically feel anything. He feels no pain at all, even if gravely injured -- and likewise, he cannot feel a loving touch. Therefore, sex does nothing for him either. Sauron hides his discontent with this under his caustic wit and personality quite well, but occasionally, he does let it bleed through... ever so slightly... (In his snake form he regains feeling. He retreats to this form often.) Adrian Barrios  Current Storyline(s): --Nickname: Dreamkeeper [given to him by his pack's Alpha] Age: 26 Shift: Lycanthrope -- Abilities: A touch of oneiromancy , including the ability to project an image or series of images into a sleeping person's mind. Many use this for malicious or self-serving purposes, but this is never Adrian's intention. Eventually, with enough dedication, he could learn how to project his astral body into another's dreams and communicate with the person's astral self that way. His lycanthropy allows him to see and cross into the shadow realm, the domain of all spirits and ghosts, and also the realm that astral bodies tend to traverse in. In his pack, he was a guardian of souls, protecting the vulnerable from malicious entities that they couldn't see. His oneiromantic skills was the best avenue for this. -- Disposition: Adrian is a calm, balanced individual. He is gentle to the point where people make the mistake of doubting his strength or will, until he is compelled to prove his masculinity. He has an inherent sense of peace, where the stresses of everyday life do not weigh upon him as heavily. He is known for his generosity and empathy, and his ability to calm the most tempestuous storm in another individual. Of course, even a calm-tempered male such as he has his triggers, but never does he lash out at another, even when triggered. -- Weapon: Since self-defense is paramount, Adrian does carry a short blade. Of course, he would much rather use his hands and body as its own defense as long as it is possible. -- History: Adrian was born to a pack known as the Protetores, or the Guardians. Their Alpha guarded the whole region, keeping the land and its inhabitants safe from forces that would harm either. The males of the pack guarded individuals or domains within the Alpha's purview. When Adrian became of age, he was given the realm of dreams, as his affinity for oneiromancy was expressed. Adrian was adept and vigilant, not to mention innately skilled at keeping the worst of the dream-demons at bay. The children of the village loved him most, since he possessed infinite patience and was kind... and of course, they knew with the innate knowledge of the innocent that he was the one that gave them their delightful dreams. But the Alpha of the pack was growing old, and with every passing year he grew weaker, though he was too stubborn to allow another to succeed him before he became too weak. As a result, he neglected to mend a tear between realms, and something got through. Something of considerable power and might, and with a thirst for the lycanthropes' blood. Adrian was the only member of the pack that escaped the demon's massacre, to his knowledge; he was asleep and his astral body was elsewhere, rendering his body's aura diluted, so he was passed over as inconsequential. He arose to the smell of his family's blood. After that fateful night, no one in that region saw Adrian again. Silas Cavanaugh 
Age: 21 Shift: Lycanthrope -- History: Silas's childhood was as uneventful as it could get. He played with the neighborhood kids, he went to school and learned his letters, and he developed at a perfectly acceptable rate. And then, the same day he found a curly little pubic hair, he fell victim to the curse of the full moon laid upon his family by a vengeful suitor of his mother's, and amidst much agony, turned into a wolf. Vengeful suitor, indeed... his mother had broken up with a male known to be a curse-caster, and instead married Silas's father, who was an upstanding and completely conservative citizen. He divorced Silas's mother immediately when Silas's secret was found out some few months later, leaving the woman heartbroken and fostering her growing distaste and soon-to-be hatred for her only son. The hatred festered as Silas reached his late teens, and she blamed him for every ill in her life, claiming the only reason she was still raising him was to keep more bad luck from reaching her. One night, during a heated argument that was quickly escalating thanks to Silas's antagonizing, she grabbed the same knife she'd used to cut up tomatoes and swung it haphazardly in Silas's direction, slicing his throat clean open. She called for medical attention immediately afterward, and ended up detained by the local authorities. Silas was rushed to the ER and was miraculously saved -- well, almost all of him. His vocal cords were irreparably severed; to save them was to lose the young man himself. So to save him, they left him without voice. But the gods were looking favorably upon their unfortunate son, because soon afterward, during a very strange dream, Silas found himself gifted with the ability to speak to another through touch. It was not long before Silas finally left the town of his birth, left the mother who was now being imprisoned for her brashness, and struck out to see if there was still any good left in the world... His wolf mien will forever be stalled in cub form, symbolizing the man's yearning to reclaim what he'd lost upon coming into his lycanthropic identity. Jesse Llyr  Current Storyline(s): AtlantisAge: 294 Height/Weight: 6'3" standing, 170 lbs. Shift: Merman -- Appearance: In human form, Jesse is a lean, sinewy male with creamy porcelain skin that seems to shimmer like scales in the right light. In mer-form, he takes on an iridescent appearance, to the point where his skin reflects light as a prismatic shimmer. His tail is technically a cobalt blue, but the prismatic quality in light makes it appear to be all colors. In both forms, his hair is past his waist and a bluish-white, and his eyes are the same cobalt as his tail. -- Abilities: Advanced healing abilities, both diagnostic and treatment-related, but only when he is in contact with water. The ability to lure others to him with the sound of his voice. -- Disposition: Jesse is a quiet, introspective individual, still running from ghosts of his experiences and trying to find the peace he would need to become a whole being. He is not unfriendly, but often finds it hard to relate to others, especially since he seems so different from most. Mainly he longs to connect to others, like most beings do. -- History: Wherever Jesse went, it seemed as if he was a commodity, a being created solely for entertainment purposes. From early childhood he was goaded to do dolphin-like tricks, to 'show his scales' when he was in human form, to let people touch his tail. He was rarely treated like just another being in the world -- no, he was poked and prodded, oohed and aahed over. Much like a child star who had no say in her sudden thrust into the limelight, he was very unhappy with this. All the attention served to make Jesse shy and withdrawn, wanting to blend in as much as possible so people would leave him alone -- even though a young male with bluish-white hair and shimmery skin didn't have many places to hide. But as time went on, he found that the attention didn't go away just because he willed it to. And sometimes, it got worse. Sometime in the second quarter-century of his life, he was enjoying a swim in the ocean near his home when a ship loomed on the horizon. It was an ocean; Jesse thought nothing of the fact that there was a ship coasting along on it. Dismissing its presence, he didn't see the net until it was too late. Jesse was captured and put on display in a carnival-like atmosphere, a sideshow freak among bearded ladies and two-headed men. He was kept in a large aquarium tank, swimming around and around in circles and never allowed out of the tank. He is still not completely over the self-loathing that he earned from being labeled a 'freak', and still suffers from acute claustrophobia that shows no sign of abating. However, there was one carnival-goer that didn't leer and giggle at him when they passed by; a young woman, who found Jesse fascinating. She came to visit him frequently, standing at the glass with her hands pressed to it and a yearning expression on her face. At first, Jesse paid her no attention, thinking her just obsessed with his freakiness. But she kept coming, trying to get his attention, and he started to take notice. And one day, he put his hands up to the glass too. Late that night, when the carnival was shut down and the organizers were asleep, the girl came back, and sprung him from the tank. When she realized he could walk when on dry land, that his tail transformed into legs, she was incredulous. She managed to get them to the edge of the carnival grounds before the three-headed dog started barking. She clung to him tenaciously as the dog kept them from passing and awoke the managers, who immediately set to prying them apart. Jesse was unwilling to lose the one person who hadn't treated him like a freak of nature and fought the men holding him, managing to break free just as the men holding the girl snapped her neck. Jesse ran then, not caring that he was being chased and they were gaining fast. He ran until his legs burned like wildfire and his lungs felt like they would collapse. And what do you know, he reached a lake, and dived into it all the way to the bottom, where those chasing him couldn't reach without losing their breath halfway down. He made it out of the snafu alive, and took to wandering until he got far away from that land... but sometimes, Jesse still feels like he should be running. Cualli Yolotli  Current Storyline(s): --Age: 94 Status: Leader of the Shifters Shift: Ocelot -- History Cualli was born unto one of the Arcane Ones, the King of Shifters, Tlacelel. The wars and the arduous construction of Dalea had taken its toll on the ancient one, and he only wished peace and good will to his offspring after so many years of suffering. As all parents did, he simply wished a better life for his children, hence his ardent participation in the creation of Dalea. Cualli was brought up with love instead of being taught hatred of the humans. It was not an easy task, as so many of the Arcane Ones still harbored their hard-earned hatred, but Tlacelel was determined that his son know something more of the world. Even his name was a testament to this, meaning 'good heart'. Cualli was to be a peacemaker, one who would not foster warmongering among his fellow Shifters. The time for war, in Tlacelel's opinion, had passed. Of course, this did not mean Cualli was not taught to defend himself. He learned to be stealthy and quick on his feet, and learned to constantly be aware of his surroundings, for not all would be as benevolent as he. And then came the time when he reached his adulthood, when he shifted form for the first time. His second form was an ocelot, a beautiful creature that humanity's carelessness had rendered extinct in some species and nearly extinct in others. This was a sign to the young male's father that he would, indeed, have the blessing of the gods and goddesses as he was lovingly released from the den and sent out into this world, Dalea... |
