Name: Hazel Chene
Alias/Nicknames: Cloud; The affectionate nickname given to him by his late guardian because Cloud was absent minded and often lost. He often uses this as his alias when he does not wish to give out his true name.
Birthdate: 23rd day of the fourth cycle, year 151
Age: 214 yrs
Race: Incubus-Charneldar
Soul Type: Newborn
Gender: Male
Religion: Towards the Muse of Nifel Loren, Shalien, he owes the privilege of being in possession of a magickal ring which absorbs and stores magick essence. And to Shalien he will remain loyal.
Appearance: 5’ 11” (180 cm)
dull viridian eyes
silver with occasional highlights of midnight grey
long hair, pulled back into a ponytail at the last third
143 lbs
light, lavender skin tone (a convoluted color of his dark side [mwaahahaha])
smells like the deepest section of a dank forest
Vicious claws, incubus horns, lacking tail
Identifying marks/scars: No scars, though he has a tatoo which consists of adjacent lines of varying width, being nearly half the circumference of his arm. Of assumption, Cloud can guess that it is a scientific categorizing system of some sort.
Transformation: Typically conceals the abnormal claws, horns, and tail belonging to his incubus genes
Personality: Often comes off to humans as bipolar, where during such sessions he experiences his incubus and dark elf personas collide, and attempt to claim his soul. Occasionally he has nightmares about the procedure in which bound his unbindable lineage together. Though, these bouts of terror are occasional and are often times short lived. As long as he doesn’t stay too long around one place enough to get settled in, he has no problems taking his mind off things.
In early years, he found that sticking in one place made him a nervous wreck. His guardian who took him in as a young child post-experiment, raised him during early adolescence, though following a tragic accident involving a fell alchemist, he fell ill and passed away. This left Cloud traumatized and alone, at which point he left fast and ran far away from his fears. This is how he discovered his phobia of comfortable living.
He never frees himself from his demons, and fears the uncertain day he becomes overcome by these that torment him, like most incubus do. Though in later years his personality has settled to an introverted shade, in the attempt to feel no remorse or emotion, as his feelings settled down and this became a viable coping method with his incubus emotions. Thus possibly rendering immortal, as, theoretically incubus are immortal despite their emotions. This has allowed him to be able to stay around the same area without nervous fears or emotion clouding his thought and taking form as it has in the past...
Through his distant travels, he has studied with many people of all walks of life, and has learned self control as well as extensive knowledge of illusionary magicks.
Though, on the incubus side of things, while his strong willed dark elf persona takes care of most of the instability young incubus experience. Cloud has had no problems in his past of gender identity or confusion regarding sexual matters. That is not to say he doesn’t engage in such activities, he simply does not often do them with …. malicious intent. He partakes in much of the artistic culture wherever found, as well as sketching the beautiful sights he has seen in his travels
Alignment: True neutral
Political Alignment: Loyalties remain nowhere aside from his current client. Tends to stick around Howldon- the district of Wolfenham- where he was birthed from a laboratory experiment. Though there was a time when he was an explorer- learning, travelling, discovering. Then his actions were placed in nothing but learning, doing, and whomever he was closest to at a given time.
Languages Spoken: Avarin, Eldarin, vague though literate understanding of Noldorin, learned from his contact with his home peoples of both sides, an illiterate understanding of Hexxarin (can pick out a few words and recognize few phrases, though can certainly not speak it),
Job/Class: Current: Mercenary/information broker. Often found in the shady corner of a bar or inn, accepts most offers- more commonly than not accepts at high price. Well known throughout the city of Howldon, as a threat as well as a broker.
Past: Nomadic broker/gypsy
Weapon: some rope he carries in his backpack and uses for setting traps for hunting
Armor: N/A
Item: Once gifted to him by a curious as well as generous Muse of Nifel Loren, a ring with a bank of mysterious magick imbued in its gem is worn and used on occasion.
The origins (other than who he received it from) are unknown to Cloud, and though he has gotten it appraised he still has yet to get a clue.
The ring holds on to Cloud’s finger at a decent size, taking up ⅔ of the digit, while the gem- having a sky blue hue to it- takes up the entire surface area of the top.
The gem is eternium, and the ring is [the metal of] dark silver. Both materials of which draw energy from what surrounds them. The eternium is identified to be very young, though enternium identity methods are notoriously inaccurate due to the nature of the gem, as well as the method being relatively young and the element newly discovered.
Inventory: The clothes on his back and his wits about him. He also has a small backpack.
Talents: He cannot sing, never had an interest to dance, although he has always been talented in the ways of creativity and artistic commodities. He is decent at drawing painting. He is naturally curious and mildly above average humans in terms of intelligence… Even despite his demons he is a very confident and motivated individual. (these are talents- right?
)
Skills: Because of the nature of aether being not only the base of Dreams as well as magick, aether is speculated to be the medium for light. Cloud, with the help of an interested muse, has pioneered a technique he has dubbed “sovereign light,” which involves the bending and warping of aether to make the appearance of controlling light itself. Towards the present he has near perfected it, and when he has a vast bank of magick available to him he can create detailed illusions. Other than this, he has knowledge, but no power over, other disciplines.
If its relevant- basic incubus abilities are still there, though slightly diluted: Empathic power over prey, advanced through contact.
Ability to entrance through the medium of scent, touch, and the eyes and voice of an incubus.
Production of natural aphrodisiacs
Ability to sap vitality and youth via emotion
The 'Three Marks' have deadly applications in combat
Cloud has also learned a number of combat techniques from people he has come in contact with, traveled with, and studied with, ultimately granting him the acrobatic and martial arts prowess in which many will dream of but few will reach. (though not of superhuman standards… he's not from naruto lol)
Background: The original thin version: Formed by rogue scientists at the university of Howldon working with Alabaster tech. They strove to genetically splice a incubus together with another race, with nothing but science- though at the end of the procedure they saw it as impossible to avoid magick. Cloud is initially sealed together with a spell, though instead of casting it upon him, they imbued him with it, thus creating a dream keeper.
Cloud, who only learned of this unique procedure from his late guardian, has speculated that the only reason they would be spurred to do this, even in such a lawful city as Howldon, was that they were trying to understand the biotech used in such undead, as to not fall behind in miscellaneous sciences- such as soul binding and bioengineering.
Cloud, who experienced an early tragedy after the death of his guardian, became a wanderer at a young age because of his distaste of normality, and lack of parental guidance.
The new and still slightly thin (WIP[if I feel there's something that needs to be added]): His eyes fluttered open and he shot up. Cloud proceed to profusly rub his eyes as they began to stream with tears. Waking up in morning is not a pleasant task in the slums of Howldon. You wake up and your eyes sting, the smog is visible in the air- the fact the it condenses on your face, the walls, the sheets in the morning helps nothing. When he finished this morning routine, he hoisted himself off his bed to his little five year old toddler legs then skipped into the adjacent room…. the only other room in the cramped “area for rent”. It was Sunday, and every Sunday Ger, his guardian, fried sausages for the two, despite their financial issues.
Cloud was certainly a normal child in all aspects other than his lavender skin and odd marking inked into his upper arm on the left side. It consisted of adjacent lines of varying width, being nearly half the circumference of his arm. And because of all the diversity which Cloud observed (he always went out to the marketplace with his guardian), there was no reason for himself to feel left out or offput. (it was never a secret- his unfortunate birth) The way he saw it everybody was different- he could have had seventeen foot ears and nobody would second glance. That was his go-to comparison when people asked about his arm-mark or skin-color, it made him giggle every time.
Cloud rounded the corner to see Ger, his guardian, saucing up some sausage- as he always stated it when prompted. “Whacha doin Ger,” he poked.
“Saucing up some sausages” he added playfully “ my dear. Would you like some?”
During his early years as a toddler he had no problems deciphering his outlook on life. He was optimistic, curious, and lucky- thus having no reason to not to share his love with everyone else, seeing as it was obviously the only proper conduct. Gradually though, he began to become insecure.
Early adolescence: nightmares every night. He saw people fighting, violence, hatred- and most of all extremity. He saw himself forcing it on others. Each of which are forgotten every morning, though dreaded every dusk. It wore him down. These emotions materialized in front of him. It began to take shape in his everyday life, the hatred and violence.
His eyes fluttered open and he shot up. Cloud proceed to profusly rub his eyes as they began to stream with tears. Waking up in morning is not a pleasant task in the slums of Howldon. You wake up and your eyes sting, the smog is visible in the air- the fact the it condenses on your face, the walls, the sheets in the morning helps nothing. When he finished with this morning routine. He hoisted his muscular legs off the bed to the floor, glancing down to his calves- he admired them for a moment running his eyes over the bulging veins, sexy, he always thought it looked… forgetting his situation. He wondered if the work outs he did before bed really did help with his slow muscle building.
He walked into the adjacent room…. the only other room in the cramped “area for rent” in which he had been living in for years. In his mind he quickly and specifically rewound the horrifying events which forced themselves through his head the previous night. it was terribly vivid for some reason. His normal nocterror’s stories were forgotten as soon as his feet touched the floor. Today he could remember it all, beatings, blood, the usual… Just particularly vivid. Lately Ger, his guardian, had sent him to a dream specialist to help him out with his nightmare problems. He’d have to mention the increasing vividity of his nightmares to the specialist. He thought about Ger. He smiled at the concern he gave towards a lost child who wasn’t even his to begin with. It was annoying sometimes, but he understood perfectly what Ger could be going through… or at least he thought he could. Cloud liked to consider himself empathetic.
Cloud liked Sundays because he always could recall the images of the previous night’s torment for longer, helping him get over the unnerving feeling. At least until he began eating the sausage. … the sausage. He could smell it.
He rounded the corner, gone. Ger where was he? He twisted an looked around the corner again to view his bed.
It was then the realization hit him. He’s gone. How did he forget? How does someone forget something like that? Ger is gone. It’s over. It wasn’t a dream.
He broke down. Cloud doubled over on the floor, he put his forehead to the dank floorboards, weighed down by thought of the reality of his nightmare.
Alias/Nicknames: Cloud; The affectionate nickname given to him by his late guardian because Cloud was absent minded and often lost. He often uses this as his alias when he does not wish to give out his true name.
Birthdate: 23rd day of the fourth cycle, year 151
Age: 214 yrs
Race: Incubus-Charneldar
Soul Type: Newborn
Gender: Male
Religion: Towards the Muse of Nifel Loren, Shalien, he owes the privilege of being in possession of a magickal ring which absorbs and stores magick essence. And to Shalien he will remain loyal.
Appearance: 5’ 11” (180 cm)
dull viridian eyes
silver with occasional highlights of midnight grey
long hair, pulled back into a ponytail at the last third
143 lbs
light, lavender skin tone (a convoluted color of his dark side [mwaahahaha])
smells like the deepest section of a dank forest
Vicious claws, incubus horns, lacking tail
Identifying marks/scars: No scars, though he has a tatoo which consists of adjacent lines of varying width, being nearly half the circumference of his arm. Of assumption, Cloud can guess that it is a scientific categorizing system of some sort.
Transformation: Typically conceals the abnormal claws, horns, and tail belonging to his incubus genes
Personality: Often comes off to humans as bipolar, where during such sessions he experiences his incubus and dark elf personas collide, and attempt to claim his soul. Occasionally he has nightmares about the procedure in which bound his unbindable lineage together. Though, these bouts of terror are occasional and are often times short lived. As long as he doesn’t stay too long around one place enough to get settled in, he has no problems taking his mind off things.
In early years, he found that sticking in one place made him a nervous wreck. His guardian who took him in as a young child post-experiment, raised him during early adolescence, though following a tragic accident involving a fell alchemist, he fell ill and passed away. This left Cloud traumatized and alone, at which point he left fast and ran far away from his fears. This is how he discovered his phobia of comfortable living.
He never frees himself from his demons, and fears the uncertain day he becomes overcome by these that torment him, like most incubus do. Though in later years his personality has settled to an introverted shade, in the attempt to feel no remorse or emotion, as his feelings settled down and this became a viable coping method with his incubus emotions. Thus possibly rendering immortal, as, theoretically incubus are immortal despite their emotions. This has allowed him to be able to stay around the same area without nervous fears or emotion clouding his thought and taking form as it has in the past...
Through his distant travels, he has studied with many people of all walks of life, and has learned self control as well as extensive knowledge of illusionary magicks.
Though, on the incubus side of things, while his strong willed dark elf persona takes care of most of the instability young incubus experience. Cloud has had no problems in his past of gender identity or confusion regarding sexual matters. That is not to say he doesn’t engage in such activities, he simply does not often do them with …. malicious intent. He partakes in much of the artistic culture wherever found, as well as sketching the beautiful sights he has seen in his travels
Alignment: True neutral
Political Alignment: Loyalties remain nowhere aside from his current client. Tends to stick around Howldon- the district of Wolfenham- where he was birthed from a laboratory experiment. Though there was a time when he was an explorer- learning, travelling, discovering. Then his actions were placed in nothing but learning, doing, and whomever he was closest to at a given time.
Languages Spoken: Avarin, Eldarin, vague though literate understanding of Noldorin, learned from his contact with his home peoples of both sides, an illiterate understanding of Hexxarin (can pick out a few words and recognize few phrases, though can certainly not speak it),
Job/Class: Current: Mercenary/information broker. Often found in the shady corner of a bar or inn, accepts most offers- more commonly than not accepts at high price. Well known throughout the city of Howldon, as a threat as well as a broker.
Past: Nomadic broker/gypsy
Weapon: some rope he carries in his backpack and uses for setting traps for hunting
Armor: N/A
Item: Once gifted to him by a curious as well as generous Muse of Nifel Loren, a ring with a bank of mysterious magick imbued in its gem is worn and used on occasion.
The origins (other than who he received it from) are unknown to Cloud, and though he has gotten it appraised he still has yet to get a clue.
The ring holds on to Cloud’s finger at a decent size, taking up ⅔ of the digit, while the gem- having a sky blue hue to it- takes up the entire surface area of the top.
The gem is eternium, and the ring is [the metal of] dark silver. Both materials of which draw energy from what surrounds them. The eternium is identified to be very young, though enternium identity methods are notoriously inaccurate due to the nature of the gem, as well as the method being relatively young and the element newly discovered.
Inventory: The clothes on his back and his wits about him. He also has a small backpack.
Talents: He cannot sing, never had an interest to dance, although he has always been talented in the ways of creativity and artistic commodities. He is decent at drawing painting. He is naturally curious and mildly above average humans in terms of intelligence… Even despite his demons he is a very confident and motivated individual. (these are talents- right?
)Skills: Because of the nature of aether being not only the base of Dreams as well as magick, aether is speculated to be the medium for light. Cloud, with the help of an interested muse, has pioneered a technique he has dubbed “sovereign light,” which involves the bending and warping of aether to make the appearance of controlling light itself. Towards the present he has near perfected it, and when he has a vast bank of magick available to him he can create detailed illusions. Other than this, he has knowledge, but no power over, other disciplines.
If its relevant- basic incubus abilities are still there, though slightly diluted: Empathic power over prey, advanced through contact.
Ability to entrance through the medium of scent, touch, and the eyes and voice of an incubus.
Production of natural aphrodisiacs
Ability to sap vitality and youth via emotion
The 'Three Marks' have deadly applications in combat
Cloud has also learned a number of combat techniques from people he has come in contact with, traveled with, and studied with, ultimately granting him the acrobatic and martial arts prowess in which many will dream of but few will reach. (though not of superhuman standards… he's not from naruto lol)
Background: The original thin version: Formed by rogue scientists at the university of Howldon working with Alabaster tech. They strove to genetically splice a incubus together with another race, with nothing but science- though at the end of the procedure they saw it as impossible to avoid magick. Cloud is initially sealed together with a spell, though instead of casting it upon him, they imbued him with it, thus creating a dream keeper.
Cloud, who only learned of this unique procedure from his late guardian, has speculated that the only reason they would be spurred to do this, even in such a lawful city as Howldon, was that they were trying to understand the biotech used in such undead, as to not fall behind in miscellaneous sciences- such as soul binding and bioengineering.
Cloud, who experienced an early tragedy after the death of his guardian, became a wanderer at a young age because of his distaste of normality, and lack of parental guidance.
The new and still slightly thin (WIP[if I feel there's something that needs to be added]): His eyes fluttered open and he shot up. Cloud proceed to profusly rub his eyes as they began to stream with tears. Waking up in morning is not a pleasant task in the slums of Howldon. You wake up and your eyes sting, the smog is visible in the air- the fact the it condenses on your face, the walls, the sheets in the morning helps nothing. When he finished this morning routine, he hoisted himself off his bed to his little five year old toddler legs then skipped into the adjacent room…. the only other room in the cramped “area for rent”. It was Sunday, and every Sunday Ger, his guardian, fried sausages for the two, despite their financial issues.
Cloud was certainly a normal child in all aspects other than his lavender skin and odd marking inked into his upper arm on the left side. It consisted of adjacent lines of varying width, being nearly half the circumference of his arm. And because of all the diversity which Cloud observed (he always went out to the marketplace with his guardian), there was no reason for himself to feel left out or offput. (it was never a secret- his unfortunate birth) The way he saw it everybody was different- he could have had seventeen foot ears and nobody would second glance. That was his go-to comparison when people asked about his arm-mark or skin-color, it made him giggle every time.
Cloud rounded the corner to see Ger, his guardian, saucing up some sausage- as he always stated it when prompted. “Whacha doin Ger,” he poked.
“Saucing up some sausages” he added playfully “ my dear. Would you like some?”
During his early years as a toddler he had no problems deciphering his outlook on life. He was optimistic, curious, and lucky- thus having no reason to not to share his love with everyone else, seeing as it was obviously the only proper conduct. Gradually though, he began to become insecure.
Early adolescence: nightmares every night. He saw people fighting, violence, hatred- and most of all extremity. He saw himself forcing it on others. Each of which are forgotten every morning, though dreaded every dusk. It wore him down. These emotions materialized in front of him. It began to take shape in his everyday life, the hatred and violence.
His eyes fluttered open and he shot up. Cloud proceed to profusly rub his eyes as they began to stream with tears. Waking up in morning is not a pleasant task in the slums of Howldon. You wake up and your eyes sting, the smog is visible in the air- the fact the it condenses on your face, the walls, the sheets in the morning helps nothing. When he finished with this morning routine. He hoisted his muscular legs off the bed to the floor, glancing down to his calves- he admired them for a moment running his eyes over the bulging veins, sexy, he always thought it looked… forgetting his situation. He wondered if the work outs he did before bed really did help with his slow muscle building.
He walked into the adjacent room…. the only other room in the cramped “area for rent” in which he had been living in for years. In his mind he quickly and specifically rewound the horrifying events which forced themselves through his head the previous night. it was terribly vivid for some reason. His normal nocterror’s stories were forgotten as soon as his feet touched the floor. Today he could remember it all, beatings, blood, the usual… Just particularly vivid. Lately Ger, his guardian, had sent him to a dream specialist to help him out with his nightmare problems. He’d have to mention the increasing vividity of his nightmares to the specialist. He thought about Ger. He smiled at the concern he gave towards a lost child who wasn’t even his to begin with. It was annoying sometimes, but he understood perfectly what Ger could be going through… or at least he thought he could. Cloud liked to consider himself empathetic.
Cloud liked Sundays because he always could recall the images of the previous night’s torment for longer, helping him get over the unnerving feeling. At least until he began eating the sausage. … the sausage. He could smell it.
He rounded the corner, gone. Ger where was he? He twisted an looked around the corner again to view his bed.
It was then the realization hit him. He’s gone. How did he forget? How does someone forget something like that? Ger is gone. It’s over. It wasn’t a dream.
He broke down. Cloud doubled over on the floor, he put his forehead to the dank floorboards, weighed down by thought of the reality of his nightmare.
Last edited by cloud on Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:09 pm; edited 8 times in total (Reason for editing : Revising religion)
