A supernatural creature is targeted by hunters, wanting to capture or kill the creature for one reason or another. But the creature discovers a way to protect themselves- binding a reaper to themselves for protection.
So that’s just a basic intro that we will kind of go off of. I made this because I have a Reaper character that I am in the mood to use. This will obviously have fantasy themes, and definitely some romance.
Guidelines:
- Rated R/MA for possible violence and gore, profanity, and sexual situations (will be taken to PM though).
- LGBTQ+ is accepted (even preferred for this!).
- Characters can have abilities/powers/be other races, but please try not to be too OP.
- Please be literate, can’t stress that enough! (Preferred sentence count is three.
- Two if fine I guess, but make the two sentences strong ones. No one liners though, they are hard to go off of).
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Preferred Pronouns:
Sexuality:
Race/Species:
Appearance:
Personality:
Strengths/Talents:
Weaknesses:
Their “Type”:
Background:
Other:
(Yeah, totally! Here’s my Reaper character, just as a reference thing..)
Name: Thatcher Wain.
Age: 928 years, but looks to be around 21-24.
Gender: Male.
Preferred Pronouns: He/Him/His.
Sexuality: Pansexual (prefers males), possibly polygamous.
Race/Species: Reaper (names appear on a sheet and those are the only people he can heal/kill. If there are no names, he is completely harmless to everyone. Can do something like teleportation by turning into a ‘murder’ of crows. He is still able to get hurt and feel pain, but a Reaper can only be permanently killed by their own scythe. Can be bound to someone to do their killing/healing by a spell or writing that command (you are bound to ‘insert name here’)).
Appearance: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/617345061395939577/, toned/slender build/features, tall (around 6’4), black tattoo of the silhouette of a scythe on his inner right forearm.
Personality: Ambiverted, independent, calm, proper, friendly (when not working), standoff-ish (when working), passionate, affectionate, romantic, generally quiet, almost seems to be emotionless, very dominant.
Strengths/Talents: Manipulation, lying, observation, can speak multiple old languages.
Weaknesses: Showing his feelings, tends to look down on humans/other creatures, not good at keeping what he is a secret.
Their “Type”: He tends to like someone who is more sensitive, or someone that he feels the need to protect and shelter.
Background: Developing…
Other: When he was around 636 years old, he found a female three headed hound puppy, which he raised and named Nike
ame: Halo Starr
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Preferred pronouns: He/him
Sexuality: Closeted Gay
Species: Fallen Angel
Personality: Halo is a gentle and kind soul. He'd never hurt a fly and is always there when people need him. He's gentle and quiet, never really raising his voice. He hates seeing his teammates/friends hurt, so he will do everything in his power to love and protect those who can't. He is a loving soul with basically a laid back attitude. If you punched this kid, he'll just let you. He won't fight back unless he absolutely has to. But when it comes to protecting his friends, he snaps and will literally kick your butt to kingdom come if you mess with the people he cares for. But, on the inside he's really hurting. What seems like a child that always smiles, he's broken. Oh, so very broken. He doesn't dare let anyone see his tears though, he doesn't want others to take his burden.
Looks: Halo has pure white hair that swirls around his neck and sweeps into his eyes, his eyes are a clear color, you would think they're made of glass. He has snow white skin that burns relatively easily. He doesn't exactly have any birthmarks, blemishes, only scars on his back, chest and a few on his arms from shattered glass. Halo normally wears white related colors, such as white, cream, snow colored, stuff like that. The darkest he'll go is a grey, and a light grey at that. He also wears a light jacket, finger-less gloves and a simple combat boots. He has dog tags, but who they belong to is a mystery to everyone but him. He is a fair height of 5'10 but is on the leaner side. He has basically no muscles, and is mostly just skin and bone since he never eats. He has huge white angelic wings.
Strengths/Talents: Dancing, flying, drawing,
Weaknesses: He's not very social, he's difficult to understand, he's shy when it comes to talking with others.
Their “Type”: Someone who will love him for who he is, and understand that he needs time to open up to others.
Backstory: There's a reason why Halo is so quiet and reserved. From a young age, he was taught to never speak his mind, and to never fight back. He was always hit for it if he did. His parents hated him, his brother abandoned him in his time of need. He was a burden to everyone that crossed his path, at least, that was what he believes. He's never had a true friend before, and he's always only given. He never asks for anything in return when he helps someone and he takes others burdens, loading them on his own back. He fears his gift, since he was unable to control it. He hates using it and is always filled with fear that he's going to be rejected… by everyone.
Extra: Halo will welcome you and talk to you, but if you ever try getting close to him, he will only push you away. He also has a small black dog, a Japanese spitz breed, named Glitch, his only companion.
(He looks great! Would you want to start on the ‘getting hunted’ intro, or we could summarize that up after the ‘binding’ scene?)
Hmm, which one would you like?//
(I guess we could go on ahead and just go to the summoning scene, and Halo could explain what had happened to him, if that’s okay with you.)
Okie. Would you mind starting? I'm bad at starting.//
(That’s all good, I’ll start.)
Thatcher felt a pull that he could have recognized anywhere. He had not been bound in a few centuries, and the last man who he had been bound to was terrible. So many innocents died at that time, and he prayed to the gods that it wasn’t happening again. But, he appeared suddenly in front of an ongoing spell, his eyes a tad wide with surprise as he stared down at the young man who he assumed had cast the spell.
Halo takes a breath, chanting the spell, before slowly opening his eyes. He stumbles back slightly, then releases a breath. "S-so it works…" he says softly. Halo's wings flutter nervously and he sighs softly, shaking his head. He shakes his head, "I… uh-" He clears his throat. "You're a reaper?" He asks softly.
Thatcher frowned down at the young man who had summoned up, eyes glancing up up and down slowly. This male looked a bit frail, so he could understand why the male would want to bind someone like him. “I am a Reaper, yes-,” he answered with a nod of his head. “-and you must be the one who summoned me.”
Halo nods, watching cautiously. His clear eyes are filled with slight fear and curiosity. "Y-yes. I'm the one who summoned you." He says softly, his voice cracking a small bit. His wing ruffle sightly, showing his unease.
“An angel?” Thatcher wondered, more to himself than to the male. Upon closer observation, the very pale boy had wings. He rubbed at his eyes, still feeling a tad nauseous from the spell work. He then wondered where his hound, Nike, was. He was positive that she could find him, but it still slightly worried him to think that she was alone at the moment. “Now you have bound me..” he said with a faint huff in his tone. “Why?”
Halo reveals a long gash in his wing. "I'm being hunted." He says softly. "They want me for my wings, and it's been two months… I need protection." His voice trembles. He was so scared, his wing ached, his body was beaten an bruised and if you looked close enough on his wrists, faint scars from chains could be seen.
Thatcher leaned a tad closer to the angel, eyes narrowed softly as he glanced over the injuries. “I see… You look like an innocent soul, someone who has never done much wrong before,” he said, reaching into his pocket to take out a slip of paper and pen. “These hunters you mentioned- they are made morally evil for hurting the innocent, and lucky for you, that is exactly who I was created to kill. I can assume you know how this works, then.”
Halo steps back slightly when the reaper leans forward a tad. He was never one to like his personal space intruded. He tenses slightly as the other inspects his injures. He was somewhat of an innocent soul, but he had a very dark past, that was for certain. His eyes wander the other male, his eyes full with curiosity and innocence. He gulps at the sight of the paper. "Just tell me what to do." He says softly.
Thatcher holds out the paper and pen for the angel to take. “Write down the name of one of the hunters, and I will take care of it from there,” he answered, adjusting the collar of his trench coat. The angel looked nervous. Whether it was because of the hunters or how unapproachable he might look didn’t matter to him. So far, he hadn’t established any sort of connection to the angel he was bound to.
He takes the pen and paper with trembling fingers and slowly writing the name on the paper. He takes a small breath then hands it back. "H-here…" He says softly. He runs a hand on his wing, shaking his head, "That's the leader of the hunters." he says quietly. The fallen angel takes a small breath, his pale hands folding across his chest.
Thatcher took the paper back from the angel after he had written the name down. He nodded his head slowly before looking back at the angel. “He will die suffering,” is way he simply said, tucking the paper back into the pocket of his black trench coat.
Halo squeaks softly and nods, "O-okay." He folds his wings around himself, "Thank you." He says quietly. His eyes wander the reaper before him, watching as he places the paper in his pocket.
Thatcher didn’t say anything in response to the thanks. He wasn’t fond of being bound, and he would rather just be free, in a sense, to do what he pleases. “Do you know where he could be found?” He asked the angel.
"Close by…" He says softly, glancing around. "They're never to far behind me, no matter how far I fly…" he whispers. Halo looks at the other, "Are you alright? You seem… upset…" he asks quietly.
“Upset? No, I’m not upset,” Thatcher responded before stepping away. With a flick of his wrist, what looked like a tendril of shadows poked out from his trench coat sleeve. It went up his palm and looked around his fingers before expanding into a tall scythe with a long, sharp blade. “I will take care of the man.”
Halo nods, his eyes wary of the other. He squeaks and stumbles a little when the scythe appears in the mans hand. "O-okay…" He says softly. "Good luck." He mumbles, shifting a little bit.
