Post by Cillian Nook on Jan 7, 2013 22:48:04 GMT -5
Character Name: Cillian Nook
Gender Identity: Male
Age: 19
Species: Human
Do you already have a character here on DRH? If yes, who is it, and who gave you permission to make this one?: No
Physical Appearance: Cillian is about 6’2” and has a strong athletic build. He has light green eyes and dark brown hair, dyed blond at the tips and usually worn spiked up. He has many scars marring his body from various fights, most notably though are the four jagged scars cutting across the left side of his face.
Personality: Cillian is a bold and friendly person, easy to talk to and even easier to trust. He is almost always smiling, though that smile doesn’t always reach his eyes. He can be cocky and arrogant at times, but his charismatic personality makes it hard to be mad at him. He is a natural born leader and sometimes seems to have no fear and no limits. He has moments when he is more aggressive than others and tends to withdraw into himself.
Character Background: Cillian lived the average life any rich kid would live: pampered, sheltered, and spoiled. He was content with his life, having everything he could possibly want. When he turned 17 though, his life was changed for the worse. While he and his family were celebrating their home was attacked by a pack of werewolves. Cillian watched as his family was slaughtered by the beasts, and in a rage he fought back, wiping out most of the pack. Orphaned, Cillian fell from the top of society to the bottom. He dropped out of high school and dedicated his time to learning all he could about paranormals, intrigued by them. When he learned about the mysterious school for paranormal creatures, he couldn’t help but join, finally having a chance to satiate his curiosity.
Roleplay Sample:
Smoke billowed in foul plumes up from the smoldering mansion. Flames licked hungrily up at the sky, reaching for more fuel, craving sustenance. The white washed walls were stained black, though most of the building had collapsed under the hungry grasp of the fire. The flickering light casted ghastly dancing shadows on the drying lawn. Mingled with the acrid smell of the smoke was the reek of burning flesh and hair.
“This is what Hell smells like,” Cillian thought as he watched his home crumble.
Gashed knuckles were white with the strain of the hold he had on the splintered ax handle. The wood was drenched in scarlet and clumps of fur clung to the frayed spires. Smoke, sweat, and blood burned his already tear inflamed eyes. He tried to steady his shaking breath, tried to keep himself composed, but not even he could act nonchalant now. With a howl of rage and grief, a sound almost as feral as the snarls of the creatures that had caused this carnage, the young aristocrat dropped to his knees. Violent sobs wracked his body and he doubled over, hugging the fragmented weapon to his chest.
“Cil-Cillian!” a hoarse little cry called out.
A tiny flicker of relief kindled inside of Cillian and he looked up to see a shuddering, huddled form staggering toward him. He tried to smile but pain flared through the gashes in the side of his face. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, reaching the approaching figure just as it crumpled to the ground. All hope left the young man as he gazed down at the tiny form in front of him. He knelt down and brushed the grubby curls from the little girl’s cherubic face.
“Lizzie,” he whispered in a gruff, strained voice. The tears he had managed to stop threatened to flow again.
The little girl looked up at him, half her face was mangled, reduced to a shredded mess akin to ground beef. Cillian felt as if he would vomit. The little girl, his sister, tried to reply but her body seized and jerked in his arms. The horrid bite in her shoulder spoke to the reason.
“Cil, please…” Lizzie coughed, “don’t let me.” The little girl cried out, her whimpers morphing to a faint snarl.
Cillian’s heart felt still in his chest as he stared down at her, baffled by her request. “No. I can’t…”
“Cil, please!” she screamed before another spams could rip her words away.
Staring down at her, Cillian could see the desperation, the pleading in his sister’s wide green eyes. She didn’t want to become one of the monsters that did this to her… that killed her family. And he wouldn’t let her. Tears flowed in relentless torrents down the boy’s bloodied faced, the salt stinging his wounds, as he lifted the frayed wooden stake in his hands and plunged it into his sister’s heart.
References: N/A
OOC Name: Cil
How did you find out about Dragon Ryder? (OOC) I know the creator
Gender Identity: Male
Age: 19
Species: Human
Do you already have a character here on DRH? If yes, who is it, and who gave you permission to make this one?: No
Physical Appearance: Cillian is about 6’2” and has a strong athletic build. He has light green eyes and dark brown hair, dyed blond at the tips and usually worn spiked up. He has many scars marring his body from various fights, most notably though are the four jagged scars cutting across the left side of his face.
Personality: Cillian is a bold and friendly person, easy to talk to and even easier to trust. He is almost always smiling, though that smile doesn’t always reach his eyes. He can be cocky and arrogant at times, but his charismatic personality makes it hard to be mad at him. He is a natural born leader and sometimes seems to have no fear and no limits. He has moments when he is more aggressive than others and tends to withdraw into himself.
Character Background: Cillian lived the average life any rich kid would live: pampered, sheltered, and spoiled. He was content with his life, having everything he could possibly want. When he turned 17 though, his life was changed for the worse. While he and his family were celebrating their home was attacked by a pack of werewolves. Cillian watched as his family was slaughtered by the beasts, and in a rage he fought back, wiping out most of the pack. Orphaned, Cillian fell from the top of society to the bottom. He dropped out of high school and dedicated his time to learning all he could about paranormals, intrigued by them. When he learned about the mysterious school for paranormal creatures, he couldn’t help but join, finally having a chance to satiate his curiosity.
Roleplay Sample:
Smoke billowed in foul plumes up from the smoldering mansion. Flames licked hungrily up at the sky, reaching for more fuel, craving sustenance. The white washed walls were stained black, though most of the building had collapsed under the hungry grasp of the fire. The flickering light casted ghastly dancing shadows on the drying lawn. Mingled with the acrid smell of the smoke was the reek of burning flesh and hair.
“This is what Hell smells like,” Cillian thought as he watched his home crumble.
Gashed knuckles were white with the strain of the hold he had on the splintered ax handle. The wood was drenched in scarlet and clumps of fur clung to the frayed spires. Smoke, sweat, and blood burned his already tear inflamed eyes. He tried to steady his shaking breath, tried to keep himself composed, but not even he could act nonchalant now. With a howl of rage and grief, a sound almost as feral as the snarls of the creatures that had caused this carnage, the young aristocrat dropped to his knees. Violent sobs wracked his body and he doubled over, hugging the fragmented weapon to his chest.
“Cil-Cillian!” a hoarse little cry called out.
A tiny flicker of relief kindled inside of Cillian and he looked up to see a shuddering, huddled form staggering toward him. He tried to smile but pain flared through the gashes in the side of his face. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, reaching the approaching figure just as it crumpled to the ground. All hope left the young man as he gazed down at the tiny form in front of him. He knelt down and brushed the grubby curls from the little girl’s cherubic face.
“Lizzie,” he whispered in a gruff, strained voice. The tears he had managed to stop threatened to flow again.
The little girl looked up at him, half her face was mangled, reduced to a shredded mess akin to ground beef. Cillian felt as if he would vomit. The little girl, his sister, tried to reply but her body seized and jerked in his arms. The horrid bite in her shoulder spoke to the reason.
“Cil, please…” Lizzie coughed, “don’t let me.” The little girl cried out, her whimpers morphing to a faint snarl.
Cillian’s heart felt still in his chest as he stared down at her, baffled by her request. “No. I can’t…”
“Cil, please!” she screamed before another spams could rip her words away.
Staring down at her, Cillian could see the desperation, the pleading in his sister’s wide green eyes. She didn’t want to become one of the monsters that did this to her… that killed her family. And he wouldn’t let her. Tears flowed in relentless torrents down the boy’s bloodied faced, the salt stinging his wounds, as he lifted the frayed wooden stake in his hands and plunged it into his sister’s heart.
References: N/A
OOC Name: Cil
How did you find out about Dragon Ryder? (OOC) I know the creator
