Padca truly loved his work - many would even say he loved it too much, and that he would benefit from "having a life". As far as Padca was concerned, books were life - his solace and work.
Naturally he loved the library as well - an entire building full of books, a bastion of learning, the most soothing environment he'd ever found, and he got to work there as he pleased now.
When "going to work" was rather more like "coming home", why would he ever want to spend time elsewhere?

Ahem, anyway, the point being that he does love the library. Even if right now he was fighting a frustration that was all too common in his most favorite of places - being unable to locate a book. The system in place was wonderful, practically perfect, with only room to argue about what section books ought to go into - and that was just invigorating discussion! (Even if the other librarians viewed it rather differently)
But misplaced books! How hard was it to put a book back in its proper place?? Just return it where you found it! Everything is labeled and if you cannot recall, there are many working here - himself included! - that could put it away for you! Finding books in all manner of places was endlessly frustrating, and looking for such misplaced books ate up precious time.

Deep breaths Padca, your master always told you so, deep breaths and relax ("or you'll give yourself an ulcer boy, I swear"). The book was not in its place, and according to records it had also not been checked out. This did not bode well, BUT before giving in to the need to scour the entire building, there was one final avenue he could try - checking the few scattered tables. Perhaps the book was already being read, or sitting in a pile with others, by one of the various scholarly sorts who stopped in to work and study. He sincerely hoped that was the case - he'd rather know where the book was than be faced with a building-wide search, even if he had to wait to use it.

The first few occupied tables bore no fruit - just folks blinking at him as he stopped to inspect the spines of their chosen reading - but at the table nestled further back he was stopped in his tracks. Not due to finding his elusive book, no - there was someone at that table, but Padca couldn't properly make out their features as they were currently using a book as a pillow.
It was even open!!
Oh gods above, why?? The pages were going to end up creased! And the possibility of facial oils, basically impossible to remove! What if their mouth was open???

Thoroughly horrified, though with irritation just around the corner, Padca quickly approached the table and rapped on it sharply with gloved knuckles.
"Excuse me?? Please wake up. You are mistreating that book terribly."

On an otherwise lovely and unremarkable day, while a rather tall man with dark hair paused out of the passing foot-traffic to look at the shopfront practically overflowing with flowers, a passing beast of burden spooked and startled badly. Before it could be brought back under control, its thrashing shook the heavily laden cart behind it, rocking the huge containers dangerously until they tipped too far - the snapping of wood as the wheel collapsed proceeded the crunch of the side of the cart as all the containers broke free.

While there was a lot of startled yelling and scrambling out of the way, most folk had instinctively shied away as soon as the animal bellowed and began to struggle, the rest moving after to give a wide berth once the overburdened wagon began to rock. Had one lone man not seemingly missed all the signs of danger, the accident would have been only a terrible mess rather than a tragedy. Instead, the stranger had turned just enough to glance back at the danger as it collapsed directly atop him, and in an instant he disappeared beneath hundreds of pounds.

A silent moment of shock passed, eerily still, before the small crowd erupted into noise and action.
Was that man dead?? Somebody needed to call for a healer! Where were all the able-bodied folk, they needed to start lifting those crates! Surely he had not survived that?? You're responsible, over packing the cart like that! Everyone step back, things could still shift and fall! What made the animal spook like that??

Then the pile abruptly shifted, causing another ripple of panic, before the bloodied figure of a man re-appeared, standing carefully as he easily shifted aside the various crates and barrels and sacks and such that had previously been crushing him. Other than being disheveled and, uh...the blood...he seemed otherwise unperturbed as he blinked a bright blue eye at the crowd now staring back at him.

"I am alright."

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Qadir Darzi
Age
27
Gender
Female (trans)
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Adelan (Serenian ancestry)
Height
5'10"
Occupation
Noble, previously Master of the Archers
Residence
Ketra

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Qadir greatly resembles her Serenian ancestry, very obviously having Fae blood in her. It is most evident in her hair, which is cut fairly short and is all white, aside from a chunk of bangs that are streaked with lavender. Her one good eye is also rather unusual, being of a rich teal color - the other is always covered by a faded red cloth eyepatch, as a devastating wound relieved her of the organ entirely. Her skin is sandy brown, though it does not seem to vary in hue even when out in the sun for extended periods, and she has a few scars on various parts of her body from her life as a Yeoman (longbow archer). She's somewhat lanky, with extremely powerful yet lithe muscles. Her upper body is very toned, with clear definition in her arms and back especially, and her fingers are very calloused.
Thanks to being nobility now, Qadir can afford fabrics in deep, rich hues - though she always goes for comfort over fashion. Her top of choice is robe-style (which she often leaves pretty well completely open) in a relatively thick navy blue material. Her pants are dark purple and quite loose, especially around her lower legs, so that they easily fall over her soft brown leather boots. Her only accessory is a silver chain and pendant - the pendant greatly resembling crosshairs inside a circle (yes really lol).

Personality
Qadir is...definitely a soldier. Not just in her ability, but also her general demeanor. She lacks manners and social graces, and quite frankly doesn't give a damn. She's very vulgar, using language that would never be appropriate around 'proper' lady folk, and tends to just speak her mind at all times. Yuudai often describes her as 'mildly insane', simply due to Qadir's brash, fiery, straight-on approach to any and all problems. If she knows she annoys someone, she will often go out of her way to continue to do so, delighting in their irritation. She's very flippant about sex, considering it quite fun and patently refusing to be shamed about how much of it she has. As one might assume, she also does not take orders well, and she worked hard to attain the rank of Master of the Archers so that she would only have to answer to the head General. It's only during a fight that Qadir seems to buckle down, and despite her seemingly obvious personality issues, she is extremely skilled at leading others and getting things done in as quick and efficient a way as possible.
Qadir knows she's brash and without censor, and she allows Yuudai to act as her 'better half'- her voice of reason, so to speak. Yuudai is one of the few people Qadir whole-heartedly respects, and she loves the man like a brother, so she's often more than willing to comply with Yuudai's wishes (even if she complains -loudly- the entire time).
Like her best friend, Qadir is not handling her 'retirement' well, and she is going crazy with boredom. She often takes to terrorizing her own house staff (and Yuudai's) as well as any and all nobility she runs into at social functions. Hobbies, the local brothel - anything to keep her entertained!

Magic/Abilities
Archery Master - Qadir is a master of the longbow. While all Yeomen are trained to rapidly fire arrows with precision, Qadir is a head above the rest and she knows it. Her accuracy is to the point of being inhuman - even with a lost eye, her ability to put an arrow where she wants it is master level. It may be due to her Fae blood, but her eye and muscle memory have continued to make her a fearsome archer even with her handicap.

Swordsmanship - Of course, she couldn't always rely on a bow and arrows in a battle. Thus, like all Yeoman, she was trained extensively with a melee weapon as well - her choice being duel-wielded falchions. She did a lot of training with Yuudai, and thus she too knows many different weak points on armor. She generally goes for the armpits, the joint where the leg armor meets the torso armor, and any other joints/openings she can spot - her goal is to hit major arteries so that her enemy simply bleeds to death in moments.

Hunting - Due to boredom. With nothing else to do, and wanting to keep her archery skills sharp, Qadir has taken to hunting regularly. Often she keeps the meat to be used at home and gives the pelts to Yuudai for his leatherworking hobby.

Horsemanship - Due to boredom. As an offset to her hunting, Qadir started to master the art of properly handling horses. Her favorite is makeshift agility courses, where she trains her horses to jump and turn sharply, testing both their abilities and reflexes.

Metalworking - Due to boredom. Yet another hobby taken up to pass the time, Qadir has a small workshop where she makes all manner of things, from trinkets and jewelry to tack for her horses. Often unable to use everything she makes, she likes to randomly give it away as gifts - or as she views it, getting rid of junk she doesn't actually need.

Relationships
Yuudai - her best friend and brother from another mother, Qadir is distantly related to Yuudai but she met him during training. They became fast friends, and have remained close through thick and thin. Qadir was injured in the same battle as Yuudai, losing her right eye. If he is her 'voice of reason', then Qadir is his 'agent of chaos'.

House staff - They will likely be teased and annoyed by her constantly, though she's not really mean spirited about it (most of the time). If she gets to be too much, you can always complain to Yuudai - his Disapproving Stare is one of the few things that will actually make her shamefaced.

War buddies - People she battled alongside and trained and what have you: friends, rivals, people she slept with (or all of the above)

Brothels - Qadir likes to flirt and fuck (and especially so when she's bored) so she's become a rather common face in any local establishments. She treats sex-workers well and never shirks payment, so even if she's an irritating little shit she is also quite well-liked.

Romance & the like - Qadir will be the first to tell you that she loves sleeping around, and that she has no interest in romance. While the first is genuinely true, the second may not be - Qadir has struggled with gender and gendered expectations her whole life. Yuudai would be willing to bet her staunch avoidance and outright derision of 'love' and 'settling down' is largely due to spite (and her innate desire to be contrary) - were she to stop fighting every hint of Feelings, she might actually fall head over heels. Frankly, Yuudai would pay good money just to see Qadir with a crush.
Regardless, Qadir is pansexual - if it seems fun/interesting, she's down to try it. Much like how she refuses to feel shame about her number of sexual exploits, she also refuses to feel shame about her atypical anatomy - if you have a problem with her dick, she's happy to introduce you to her killer right hook.

History
Qadir comes from a family line of Yeomen, and she never really had any other path but to join the military. She always had a headstrong personality, and she hated taking orders - this did not endear her to her peers or supervisors. Since Yuudai quickly grew tired of listening to her bitch about it, her friend told her if she hated taking orders so much she should just become the man in charge. And that was exactly what Qadir did - she worked her ass off to become the Master of the Archers, and she was damn good at it too.
Her fight to sit atop the hill nearly came undone when she finally started to live truly, authentically as herself - it probably didn't help she did this by VERY publicly announcing (to the full mess hall) that she was and always had been a woman, was tired of letting people assume otherwise, and that if anyone had a problem they could come fucking fight her about it. Qadir proudly boasts that not a single shithead challenger managed to beat her that day (though Yuudai has to mention that was only due to him literally watching her back during the absolute mess that turned out to be).
She suffered only one truly terrible injury that resulted in her losing her right eye, and like Yuudai, she's spent the better part of a year healing. Due to her exemplary service and loyalty (even if her personality left a bit to be desired), she was given a lesser noble title and 'retired' from active service. To her, it's very much like a punishment, and she would love to give those in charge a piece of her mind. Luckily, though Yuudai will humor her musings about the crazy things they could do to lose their noble title, her friend keeps her in check - it helps he lets her use some of those ideas to scare off his annoying suitors.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Yuudai Kita
Age
30
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Adelan
Height
6'4"
Occupation
Noble (ex-Knight)
Residence
Ketra

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
With broad shoulders and a narrow waist, it's very evident that he used to be a knight, retaining much of his muscle mass and strength despite living a newly 'posh' life as a noble. His skin is a sandy brown, though it darkens even further out in the sun, and is marred by pinkish scars from his time in the military. Many of the scars are from bladed weapons, or smaller puncture wounds, though nothing obviously life threatening - apart from one. On his left side, there is a massive scar, and four of his ribs are very obviously bent if one were to run their hand along them - it's the result of a mace blow that crumpled his armor into his body. Interestingly, this is not the wound that forced him off of active service. A rather nondescript scar on the inside of his right thigh, just above his knee, holds that distinction. A spear pierced the joint of his armor, tearing through muscles and tendons and gouging his inner knee. He's been recovering for months now, and is about as healed as he's going to get, though he walks with a noticeable limp and lacks the mobility he once had.
He keeps his ink black hair long these days, able to keep it nice now, though he never does anything fancy - it just gets tied off at the nape of his neck or braided. His only particularly unusual trait are his dark turquoise eyes, always with a sleepy sort of half-lidded appearance. He generally wears a white shirt that has a very wide neck, ending at the very edges of his shoulders. The long sleeves would generally be loose and puffy around his lower arms, but a crisscrossing of leather cord on his forearms holds it down. He has form fitting, deep indigo pants, with a thick red sash tied at his waist. He wears rather basic black leather boots, which hug his calves and have just a few silver embellishments on the clasps, toe, and heel. Not one for wearing many accessories, he sports only a pair of silver drop earrings, inlaid with turquoise (a gift from Qadir).

Personality
Yuudai is a friendly, laid back man much of the time. He takes life at his own pace, though he's quite well versed in taking orders from others (since he's done it most of his life lol). He's usually rather polite, but he knows how to cut loose with friends and banter back and forth. Overall, he has a rather strong 'big brother' streak, just naturally taking care of and looking after others with genuine concern. Sometimes his mother-hen tendencies can bother others, but he honestly cannot help himself. He will bend over backward for friends and family, often giving into their whims and spoiling them whenever possible - even when he knows he probably shouldn't.
For all his soft smiles and calm demeanor, Yuudai is fiercely loyal to his kingdom, friends, and family. There are some things he simply will not budge on, and he can become quite steely when pushed about certain topics. His gentle personality also takes a back seat when he's fighting - he becomes a completely focused, brutally efficient killer. He does what is necessary to ensure the safety of his home and its people, and he's more than willing to put himself in harm's way to protect everything that is important to him.
On that note, he finds his new 'retired' life to be rather...boring. It was nice for a while, but he feels useless without a weapon in his hands - he would much rather be out fighting, or at least training the next generation of knights. Some days it's a lot like watching a panther pacing his cage.

Magic/Abilities
Glaive Mastery - Yuudai's weapon of choice is the Glaive, and he wields it with frightening proficiency. He uses his height and strength to his advantage, and has learned the weak points in many types of armor. Most often he will aim for the neck and face, and it is not uncommon for him to completely behead a foe with one strike. Of course, these days he's not as nimble and able thanks to the lasting wound he received, but he makes a point of practicing anyway: rain or shine (pain or not).

Cooking - Due to boredom. With little else to occupy his time, Yuudai has taken to cooking almost all his own meals. Once proficient, he quickly began to experiment, and currently his repertoire of recipes is rather formidable.

Tailoring - Due to boredom. Once cooking was mastered, Yuudai then took to handling his own clothing, often buying nice fabrics and then creating whatever he fancies wearing, however simple it may be. Right now, he's begun dabbling in embroidery, embellishing the hems and such of his pants, tops, and sashes.

Leatherworking - Due to boredom. When sewing seems too tedious and he's already eaten his most recent meal, Yuudai takes to leatherworking. Often using the pelts of animals that Qadir has caught, he creates all manner of useful and frivolous things, enjoying the fact it's a bit more akin to manual labor. Generally he doesn't really know what to do with his finished products, and so they are given freely as gifts.

Relationships
Qadir - Related to her a few generations back, Yuudai actually met her during training, and they quickly became friends. Due in equal parts to their ability to get along, the number of harrowing fights and adventures they've survived together, and their shared blood, Qadir and Yuudai are very much like siblings as much as they are best friends. Just about every crazy story (and bad decision) Yuudai has ever made leads back to Qadir.

House staff - He only has a handful, as he tends to do things himself out of sheer boredom. He has not taken to being "cared for" very gracefully lol, and his cabin-fever can make him boorish and stubborn.

War buddies - Other people he knew/fought with/trained from the Adelan military - both friends and rivals!

Lovers & the like - Yuudai is on the ace spectrum somewhere, but he makes for a very enthusiastic lover when it's on offer. As Qadir was often the one dragging him out to find some "fun", Yuudai has an impressive amount of experience - this fact tends to surprise people as Yuudai generally forgets sex is even a thing if someone isn't actively reminding him. His past life of transience as a knight made him reluctant to enter into any long-term relationships - it wasn't that he didn't care for people, but rather he felt it unfair to try and commit to or promise a future when he was very likely to be killed in the line of duty. Now that it seems that's no longer an issue, he thinks it might be quite nice to settle down and have a family (he'd like kids!) - of course now he has to deal with opportunists that see his noble title, however small, as a chance to increase their own standing through marriage. Frankly it's a bit more amusing than annoying, and Qadir comes up with some truly hilarious ideas to scare suitors away.
While Yuudai would say he doesn't have any real preference (and that is true re: sex/gender), Qadir will gleefully expose him as a "monsterfucker" any chance she gets. (This will always turn into an argument as Yuudai is firm that 'monster' is an offensive thing to call people, but he can't actually argue that he vastly prefers distinctly non-human lovers)

History
Yuudai's family has always been relatively involved with the military, as they are low-born and without much land with which to produce something to sell. Many of their sons have enlisted simply to feed the rest of the family. Yuudai was no different, and he's always been very proud of his family's history in the knighthood of Adela. He threw himself into training and ascended the ranks quickly thanks to his level head, loyalty, and hard work - not to mention a habit of surviving his battles. His life up to this point has been rather garden-variety knighthood, with many clan skirmishes and border patrols under his belt.
He had a bout of inactivity after taking a mace to the chest plate, requiring a lot of rest and healing sessions to survive it, and coming out on the other side with a handful of bent ribs and yet another scar. Unfortunately his second bad knock took him out of the running entirely, and he's spent the better part of a year undergoing treatment on his leg, though he will always have a limp. The only consolation is that Qadir was injured in the same battle, and required just as much care, so he at least had his best friend there to keep him company.
Thanks to his service and loyalty, he was granted a lesser noble title so he might live the rest of his life in relative peace and comfort. Unfortunately to Yuudai it's much like a prison sentence, and he has not adjusted well at all. However, he's far too grateful and polite to ever bring this up to those who 'promoted' him, and so he remains in his perpetual state of 'cabin fever'.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Rheinallt
Age
38
Gender
Male (trans)
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Serenian
Height
6'2"
Occupation
Gryphon Keeper
Residence
Featherfall, Serendipity

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description Rheinallt is a big guy - he fills out his tall frame with wide shoulders and a broad back, all of him well muscled by way of genetics and a habit of physical activity. He definitely appears to take after some strong human blood rather than fae, though his features are attractive enough. His skin is naturally a peachy-pale, but often darkened to a tan thanks to a lifetime under an ocean sun, an abundance of freckles over his nose, shoulders, and thighs. He has bright sea-green eyes, ever creased with laughter, as his mouth is usually turned upward in a smile. He has a mane of hair that easily reaches his shoulders, all of it slightly wavy and generally windswept into disarray if he didn't have the forethought to braid it (and he often doesn't). It is a rich fiery red with streaks of orange and yellow, as if it were all made of flames. Unless he's being forced to attend a formal event, Rheinallt will always dress for comfort and durability over fashion - he's generally out getting into trouble anyway, so it's best to be outfitted with rugged boots, thick pants, and a rough top. He's also terrible about properly lacing/buttoning his shirts, so there's usually a generous swath of chest and a bit of curled red hair to be seen in his day-to-day wear. He even tends to go barefoot whenever indoors...basically he's a bit of a wild-man in appearance, oblivious to the whims of 'polite society'.
On another note, he does possess a few scars - large ones, at that. Mostly along his ribs, back, and thighs - large raking things, likely made by talons.

Personality Loud, bright, vivacious - Rheinallt is full of life and vitality. He brightens and warms any room he enters, usually smiling and brimming with good humor. There is hardly a mean bone in his body, and even in the face of antagonism, he can generally make them feel the fool by being even more friendly. Though he does not enjoy stiff formal events (and he's always anything but 'stiff' when attending them) he luckily has a natural wealth of charisma and an innate love of people. All the same, he is most comfortable outdoors, doing something with his hands. He can be considered laid back almost to a fault, though if a dire situation is explained as EXTREMELY IMPORTANT, he will buckle down and do what is necessary.
Sometimes described as a hyperactive child, he does often come across more like an overgrown youngster when excited or impatient. Otherwise he's a lot like a giant walking teddy bear - go on up and give him a hug, he'll likely hug you back!
He can turn on his charm when he wants or needs it, sometimes surprising those around him (as his default setting is something of an adorable doofus). And despite being big, loud, and energetic, he's very careful with lady-folk, children, and the elderly - he watches his language, and is always gentle and kind to them.

Magic/Abilities
Gryphon Taming - He's always had a knack for working with these animals, ever since he was a boy. He's not afraid to get in there and be physical with them (hence his scars) but he would never be cruel to these majestic creatures. He has a healthy respect, and an overabundance of love, for Gryphons.

Swordsmanship - Practices this daily, and relishes in the exertion. He's also gotten rather good at it, after so many years!

Water Magic - Ironic given his appearance, but Rheinallt is quite proficient in many types of magic involving water.

Relationships
Entirely open! Friends, coworkers, family, lovers, etc - come at me, Rheinallt has a bear-hug with your name on it!

He is of noble lineage, but he was raised with members of the family fairly removed from the main branch and so did not learn anything relating to 'high society' or 'proper bearing' and all that junk. Family members from the main family would likely not have a great opinion of him - he hideously embarrassed everyone the only times he was invited to attend events. His profession and free-loving lifestyle do not help this.
As for any family that lives with him near the coast, they are much more likely to be much more like Rheinallt himself, rather than tied up in politics and drama.

He's as gregarious a lover as he is a friend - he loves enjoying the company of others, and pleasure is a joy to give and receive! Unfortunately the fact he doesn't believe that companionship should be limited means he often upsets lovers who had expectations of monogamy - Rheinallt doesn't understand why people won't just say these things from the start so he can set them straight BEFORE things go south! (nevermind that he never thinks to do this himself, too much the type to 'go with the flow' instead of remembering consequences).
He's a loving, doting partner, but any of his relationships will be open and/or polyamorous in nature.

History
Born and raised in Featherfall, he spent more of his time roughhousing with Gryphons than bothering with most anything else. He is technically of lesser nobility, but having always lived away from the main family and any sort of political stomping grounds, he is pretty far removed both literally and figuratively. He was properly 'introduced' to society when he came of age, and attended one other event after that, but it went...uh....rather poorly. Well, not for Rheinallt, he had a blast poking around and eating fancy food! But his absolute lack of anything approaching 'proper' etiquette and behavior thoroughly scandalized high society, and he has NOT been invited back by his family since. He's considered quite the black sheep, fully a failure, to be at his age and unmarried, still tromping about with his Gryphons.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Pyr
Age Unknown
Gender Agender, he/him
Species Demon
Ethnicity N/A
Height 6'7"
Occupation Tourist Wanderer
Residence N/A

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description Tall and broad shouldered, Pyr tends to attract some attention when first walking into a room. He's very pale skinned, with straight ink-black hair that's roughly shoulder length - almost all of it is pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck, while a large chunk falls over the left side of his face, hiding his eye. The underside of his hair is bright blue, so it shows through here and there. His eyes are a similar shade of intense, rich blue - however his pupils are actually a darker shade of blue rather than black. Both of his upper and lower canine teeth are bigger and sharper than typical in humans. The only other remarkable thing, though usually covered, are the large scars that spider out across his back.
Overall he looks remarkably human-adjacent, easily passing as many humans have non-human ancestry to account for odd hair or eye colors. His facade can slip up at times when he's exerting his demonic powers, generally causing the whites of his eyes to turn black, his blue irises to glow, and for his pupils to become white. If he really lets himself go, the demonic energy begins to coagulate over his head in a ring of dripping blue-black ichor.

Personality
To put it simply, Pyr is deeply curious and intrigued by all manner of life on earth - although it's not easy to tell at first. His default expression is completely blank, as if he were not thinking or feeling anything - it's incredibly rare for him to show anything on his face. This isn't to say that he doesn't experience emotions, he's just terrible at expressing them (Emote who? Not him!).
After one gets over his often intimidating stone-faced appearance, it becomes very apparent that Pyr is incredibly gentle and passive. He takes great care not to hurt others, and expresses earnest concern over them in his deep monotone if they should get injured. He most often observes those around him, quite happy to just watch all the various creatures go about their daily life. Children in particular seem to be a favorite - from their tantrums to their playing, he never grows tired of watching them. He seems to find all personal interaction with others to be very precious, and he tries very hard to do it "properly" - it often becomes apparent that he doesn't quite understand what that means though, and generally things turn out awkward thanks to his complete inability to properly convey emotion and follow general social norms.

Basically he is perpetually either confused or curious, while blank-faced the entire time.

Despite being almost entirely unflappable, with the world's strongest case of stoicism and a monotone that has never met inflection before, Pyr has a really, really, really long fuse on a really, really, really bad temper. It's VERY hard to bring out of him, but once you have, it's 0-to-100 in about three seconds. Protip - if he sweeps his bangs back against his head, you should probably get the hell out of dodge because that is the only outward indication that you've managed to piss him off.

Pyr has another interesting...trait. He has horrible "luck", which likes to manifest in bodily harm. Generally things are constantly falling on him, impaling him, exploding near him, etc. Being nearly indestructible however, Pyr seems to have gotten quite accustomed to this - his usual reaction is to just blink, and then continue on with his day. As one might expect, this causes those around him a great deal of surprise (and possible trouble) - though if you hang around him long enough, you'll grow used to it quite quickly due to the frequency of these accidents.
This "bad luck" is actually more of a curse, one that he chose to bear as a payment of sorts to be able to pass into this realm - he is not meant to exist here, and like a thorn in the side of reality, the world itself seeks to reject him.

Magic/Abilities
Superhuman strength - He's a demon, it's pretty standard fare. He takes great pains to keep his strength in check though, so that he does not accidentally hurt others or break things.

Superhuman speed - Again, demon, he can move faster than the eye can follow...if he really needs to, which he generally doesn't.

Nigh-indestructible body - He can be injured in a number of ways, but never mortally it would seem. It's as if his body has a 'damage threshold' and once that level is reached, his body rejects further harm. An example would be an explosion - he'd likely become burned, suffer shrapnel, and potentially even lose a few bits, but he would not be blown completely to pieces or die. He also begins to heal almost immediately, generally within seconds of the initial injury. His body will also reject all foreign objects, such as pellets or knives, and force them back out of his flesh as he heals.

Flames of hell - If he needs to use his powers, he generally just summons blue-black flames and turns everything around him into fine white ash. The flames are incredibly intense, far worse than any sort of flame one could find naturally or through most magic on earth.

Reflexes of a dead cow - It may just be due to the fact his body is basically death-proof, but the man does not know how to duck or get out of the way, despite his speed and strength. Throw something at his face and he'll...probably take it to the face, blink, and then ask why you did that.

Relationships
He sometimes ends up with a traveling companion, should they not mind traveling with a demon (and yes, he's quite upfront about that fact, even though he is careful to maintain a 'human' form). Unfortunately, if one travels with him for any length of time, his "bad luck" seems to rub off on them. Slowly but surely they will begin to experience all manner of mishaps and misfortunes, and it only grows steadily worse the longer they stay with Pyr. Eventually, if they do not leave him themselves, Pyr himself will disappear to spare them from reaching his level of "bad luck" - having a house collapse on you tends to be fatal to those with normal bodies.

Should he come across someone who is largely immune to his "luck", it would be quite the find! Pyr genuinely enjoys the company of others, and it would be quite welcome to have a companion he did not have to leave behind for worry of harming them inadvertently. Please come be friends with the walking brick walk, he can offer awkward hugs and cuddles!

For other sorts of relationships, Pyr is asexual but otherwise has no preferences regarding sex - though in deference to his carefully controlled strength he would rather be a more passive partner with anyone he was not entirely sure of being unable to hurt. He doesn't bother to manifest genitalia most of the time, though if he is going to be nude he'll default to traditionally 'male' - that said, his body is a construct and he can change it at will!
Romance is something he is (probably) capable of, but it's not a concept he fully understands due to the culture he comes from - and in a similar vein love has a different definition and weight for him. Of course this means he is fascinated by the many ways people of this world "love" one another and the relationships they form. Fall in love with him at your own risk - he'll most likely treat it like a school research project in his attempts to understand.

Also if anyone wants to try playing one of the other "Princes" from his realm, please hit me up for brainstorming!

History
Pyr is a demon from the recesses of hell, who has only recently come "topside" in this world for reasons entirely his own. His true name is hidden, and he is one of the Seven Princes of his realm - the most powerful once-angels who now rule over all other demons.
He refers to the other princes as his "brothers", and seems to hold some amount of respect for them. Other than that, he just worries one or more might come looking for him, and that they will not be as 'subtle' as he was when emerging in this realm - they would likely cause a great deal of destruction as collateral damage, unaware or uncaring for the fragility of the earth and its mortal creatures.
Still, he will maintain that he did not run and he is not hiding, so there's a good chance his brothers know where he went, if not why. Though he's very open about being a demon, it would be very difficult for anyone to learn who he really is, as he would rather his identity remain a secret.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name Padca Heis
Age 23
Gender Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'10"
Occupation Scholar/Translator
Residence Moonspear, Serendipity

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description His hair is blunt cut and yellow-blond, just barely brushing his ears, and he doesn't do much so far as styling so it just lays where it falls. His eyes are a silver-blue color, and probably the most striking thing about him, once you get past the resting bitch face - too many hours spent reading tiny text in the dark have made the squinting near-permanent, and his mouth is always pressed firmly into a small frown as though he were perpetually disappointed at everything around him. His skin is light brown, and he has very few scars (some on his knees, one on his left elbow, and a knife wound on his lower right back). He is toned, but somewhat on the slender side, as he does not put forth a lot of time into working out (that bookworm life). He always covers up when in public, all the way from his neck to his toes. He wears a cloak that slips over his head (sort of poncho-like) and it has belled out sleeves. Under this he wears a long sleeved shirt that has a high collar, with gold clasps down the front. His pants are form fitting but not tight, the ends of which bell out a bit and fall over his boots. He also wears a pair of gloves at all times, unless necessity dictates he must remove them. All of this is white with gold around the edges/hems, and is very finely made - a testament to his relatively high social standing.

Personality Padca is polite, but generally cold to people when he meets them. He is not fond of handshakes or physical touch of any kind, and actively avoids it, going so far as to ask people not to do it. He is usually pretty soft spoken, and between his education and chosen field he has a rather deep vocabulary and, at times, obscure manner of speech. He will keep up the polite veneer for as long as he is able, even in the face of extreme frustration and irritation, but eventually he will prove to have a temper. Luckily his anger is a bit like a firecracker, explosive and abrupt but lasting only a brief moment. His mind is too full of other things to bother with petty grudges, and frankly he just doesn't like holding onto anger - he'd rather forgive and forget (less forgive, more forget) and move on from it.
Something of a homebody, Padca much prefers to remain indoors where he can study and read in peace. He enjoys puzzles and problem solving, making him an asset to his colleagues, even if he is not the best conversation partner. He's an insomniac as well, so he is often up at odd hours of the night, and his lack of sleep can sometimes make him more irritable than normal (and his eyebags worse).
Many of his problems (read - all of them) are due to certain dark events in his past which dwell deep in his psyche. He has a fear of people and their touch, though he cannot remember the reason why. Somewhere in him he longs to have normal human contact and relationships, but he can't seem to get over the terror and disgust it brings in order to reach that goal.

Magic/Abilities
Language Savvy - Padca has the uncanny ability to pick up new languages. Though speaking the languages takes much longer, he can easily learn how to read and write them in just a matter of days. This has led to his main job as a translator of old and magical scripts.

Swordsmanship - Surprisingly enough, Padca is quite skilled with a blade, and it is probably his only real sport/exercise regiment. Like with languages, he has an active role in learning as many different styles as he can, though obviously mastering them in a practical setting takes a lot of time and dedication he doesn't really have to give. If he's not working or taking a ride, he can most often be found practicing.

Horsemanship - Perhaps more of a hobby than anything, Padca is a competent rider when he fancies taking a horse out for a gallop. He mostly does it because he enjoys the sensation of moving quickly, and thus the faster the horse, the better he likes it.

Imagination/Magic Item - Padca has in his possession a very unique comb that appears to be made out of some white material similar to polished bone. It has an inscription that looks as though it was burned into it, but the inscription changes frequently and without warning, into a variety of languages. One must be able to read the inscription in order to activate the odd comb - once done, the comb will transform into anything one can imagine, though that mental visual must be very lush and detailed, and it seems to be mass-locked to nothing bigger than a large horse or smaller than a pea. Luckily Padca has the skill necessary in both areas to use this object effectively, though he generally keeps its existence a secret in case others should try and take it (as they have in the past).

Relationships Currently he tries to keep everyone at arm's length, and prefers to keep all relationships professional if he must have them at all.
His fellow librarians, and anyone working with translation work are a given! Anyone who may want to hire him would also work well, and while his social strata is fairly high, it's purely due to his efforts in his field so he lacks the sense of entitlement of higher-born folk. Unsurprisingly, this means he does not get along well with nobility and high-born folk when occasionally forced to attend social functions - his lowborn status is not exactly a secret.
People from his past in the orphanage are also welcome! (well, by me, maybe not by him)
Lovers and the like have an obvious hurtle to overcome due to his past, and the healing will be rocky. He has not allowed himself to ponder his own inclinations much, but he is attracted to men & masculine-presenting folk.

History Padca grew up in a rather large orphanage, and remembers nothing of his parents. (TW: childhood SA)

Spoiler

While growing up, he was regularly molested by a worker there, who often climbed into his bed at night and forced him to be silent while he was violated

[close]

- this is the main reason for his insomnia, which is an innate fear of sleep, to say nothing of the nightmares he still suffers. Speaking of nightmares, they tend to be the only way in which his mind can access these memories, as they have become deeply repressed. Though repressed, the ordeal has affected him even in his waking moments, such as in his loathing of being touched by others - it absolutely makes his skin crawl.
As he got older, he worked various odd jobs in an attempt to get a footing in the world without a family - luckily his ability to learn quickly and savant-level language skills helped him immensely, and eventually he found himself working for an old scholar who would later name him a formal apprentice. This in turn led to his recommendation to a large library, and from there his intense studying simply landed him positions at bigger and more renowned schools and libraries. Now he works in the largest library Serendipity has to offer, and he is thriving in his career, if not in his social life.

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The sun was only just beginning to warm the sky with yellow and pink, and already the modest kitchen was smelling of food. There was some kind of porridge bubbling softly in the hanging pot, smelling savory and with a hint of spices. He'd gone out to nab a fresh loaf of bread (before the sun was rightly awake, but by now the baker down the road was used to seeing him walking up in the semi-dark), which was now sitting next to some fruit he'd purchased on a whim the day before (he had a weakness for children peddling various things on the streets). It would make for a good breakfast, all things considered.

Which he most decidedly needed on this particular daybreak.

He'd not slept properly at all the night before, for who knew what reason, and had spent almost the entirety of it tossing and turning heavily in his bedding. Thus, he was looking a bit more haggard than usual (for Yuudai was nothing if not an insufferable morning person, already bright and alert at first light), with his long black hair barely contained with a tattered ribbon and circles under his eyes. He was even leaning against the hearth as he watched the fire crackle and cook his morning meal, arms crossed loosely across his middle. Hopefully he could wear himself out enough today that he'd sleep like the dead tonight. He had to entertain a small smile though, because it was rather laughable that one single night of no sleep could cause this much fatigue in him now. There was a time not so long ago he could go days without proper rest and still be alert and ready.

@Rhi-Rhi

The summons had finally arrived. Ghost wasn't particularly surprised - a monarch wouldn't hire someone like him on a whim. At least, not generally. No, it was quite likely something had already been afoot long before he was brought in, and now perhaps he would get his first glimpse at what that something was. Eyes safely blindfolded, and again dressed only in his simple clothes, he made his way back to the throne room by memory alone. When you lived in self-imposed blindness most of your life, you become rather adept at these things - though it helped he was not human.
The servants had been an interesting concept, but truly he did not often call for them. Even now, he could easily have had one lead him to the meeting with the Queen, but he felt more comfortable going by himself. He'd dismissed the messenger without giving them the chance to escort him.

Stepping into what was indeed a grand room (he'd scouted the grounds in the evenings, and had finally become privy to their gorgeous architecture). Bowing low to the Queen's presence, he slowly straightened.
"You summoned me, my Lady?"

@Rhi-Rhi

As it turned out, the garden was a wonderful suggestion. Not that he doubted the Queen's word about her own abode. Still, she seemed to have an uncanny understanding of him already, and they'd only just met. Hopefully, it would make for a good working relationship - though he well knew that sometimes it worked in the opposite.
With the help of the servant (honestly, this was the first job where he'd ever been given such treatment), he made it to the aforementioned tree and settled down in the cool shade. Settling into a calm, relaxed pose, Ghost focused on the soft sounds around him. The water and rustling leaves were perfect, and the smell of not so distant blooms was just sweet enough. Honestly, this might become his new meditation ground, assuming he could find what times it was least likely to be used by others.
There would be a room waiting for him soon, made to his specifications. He had a lovely spot to clear his mind. His new employer was, from his estimate (which was always pretty good), a gracious one.
Smiling ever so slightly, he tried to remember not to get too ahead of himself. Life was good, yes, but he was going to have to earn this lifestyle. And when you are employed by the ruler of an entire country, the jobs would be no small feats.

Well, this was great. Really great. They were tracking their happy way through a mountain pass, where it was growing increasingly cold, and the air increasingly thin. Trudging along after the rather feral looking pink-head a fair bit ahead of him, he kept his grumbles mostly to himself. He was (mostly) used to this by now, though sometimes Rafa took them into places that he’d rather have just avoided.
Like hiking up the side of a bloody mountain, for goddess’ sake.

Half stumbling (again) he picked up a small stone as he straightened and chucked it at his lover’s back.
“I’d like -wheeze- to remind you -wheeze- that I lack your particular -wheeze- constitution.”
That was code for ‘stop or I swear you’re not getting laid for a month’, for Lukas himself had already halted and was resting his hands on his knees. Damn but if it wasn’t getting harder and harder to catch his breath. Somebody had once said that the tops of mountains were nearly impossible to live on because the gods didn’t want you getting so close. Right now, Lukas was half willing to believe it. And they weren’t even up into what seemed to be still-snowed caps. Just thinking about it was enough to make him want to wither and sit - but he knew if he actually did, he probably wouldn’t be getting up again that afternoon.

Sometimes he wondered why he let this man drag him around through every backcountry they came across, honestly.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Nagendra (originally Kekoa)
Age
19
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Yoreiqi
Height
6'1"
Occupation
God Avatar
Residence
On the Run

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Nagendra is tall and well built like his yoreiqi heritage would dictate, but he's far more slender and lanky than most normal island dwellers, not having to do a lot of physical activity. Though tall, he has a habit of hunching and slouching. His skin is a rich brown color all over, though paler than usual due to a general lack of sunlight. Super dark, ink black hair reaches to well below his shoulders, but its always braided, and then the braid is curled up at the back of his head and pinned in place. A large chunk of hair is left free, below chin length, that covers the right side of his face and is capped with a silver cylinder. His left, visible eye is highly irregular - the white of his eye is pure black, his iris is crimson, and his pupil is a slender black slit.
His attire is nearly entirely black. A lace-up vest top, sleeveless, sports a small collar of grey fur, while snug detached sleeves run from his elbows halfway down his hands. His pants lace up the front and back, leaving diamonds of skin visible. Calf hugging black boots finish off his ensemble. He doesn't generally carry anything else on him.

Personality
Nagendra is not the most friendly of individuals. He's cold and prickly to everyone, generally lashing out with harsh words or flat out ignoring others. It's very clear he definitely does not have the yoreiqi hospitality gene - his social skills are totally lacking. That being said, he tries extremely hard to be helpful wherever possible - he's just loath to admit it. He's desperate to be something other than the scion for a dark god - he wants to do something other than destroy and maim.
Under all that puffed up irritability, Nagendra is still Kekoa - a kid from an open island nation. He's terribly afraid, and extremely lonely, almost always a hair's breadth away from completely breaking down. He warms up to those who put up with his nasty demeanor, which slowly disappears to reveal what's left of his real personality. Basically, he's a giant emo tsundere lol.
He's homesick but also afraid to go home - the last thing he wants is to bring indiscriminate destruction to such a loving, peaceful place.

Weaknesses People in trouble/danger; light/holy magic; cat gods (directly clash with dragon-snake god)

Strengths Powerful sense of right and wrong; incredibly powerful magic; highly resilient body; high pain threshold

Likes Birds, the ocean, fruit, bright colors, people, tattoos, wings, sweet foods, warm days

Dislikes Snakes/dragons, cold/wet weather, pity, restrictive clothing (his clothing is actually cloth and very soft and flexible), sour/bitter foods

Magic/Abilities
Nagendra Avatar - He is the avatar for the dark dragon-snake god Nagendra. He can directly channel the god's powerful magic. Apart from various sorts of destructive dark magic, he can also create wraith like dragons, as well as use blood magic to summon actual dragons (they instantly become tainted by Nagendra and are essentially mad)

Familiars - he can summon a large raven/hawk/vulture type bird, pitch black in color, and about the size of a California condor (essentially a bird the size of a small child lol). He can also summon a set of wolves, unusually large and of very poor disposition, which have coats that are a mix of black with some white. They are his most constant companions, but he's known to be very violent and abusive toward them at times.

Dagger play - he has a wicked curved dagger tucked into his boot that sometimes appears when he needs to defend himself at close quarters. It doesn't often happen that someone can get that close during a battle, but he knows how the use the blade with a frightening degree of skill. While using his magic, he tries hard to hold back - when he resorts to the dagger, he seems to lose himself in a bid to slaughter his enemy.

Relationships His village would have been his family, but he hasn't seen them since he was about eight. This is open!
The cult that kidnapped him and have created what he is today, he's on the run from them. Also open!
And of course, anybody he meets on the road!

History
Born Kekoa on the islands of Yoreiq. He was a child of rich, dark colors - vibrant blue streaks in his hair, eyes the color honey, and wings of ebony with more vibrant blue and green, a touch of metallic sheen to them. He lived the sort of happy, bright life that one might expect, frolicking on the beach and picking up hunting and fishing techniques in that awkward way children do.
Nobody had any suspicion toward the group of visitors to the island until it was too late and one of their own was already missing. His naturally trusting and friendly nature had lead to his capture by the Nagendra cult members - they knew they could easily pluck a young boy from the island known for its hospitality and lack of technology and magic.
From the age of eight until a few months ago, he was groomed to be the avatar of their dark god, a twisting mass of serpent and dragon. He was trained brutally and treated cruelly, even if he was given the very name of that god - he was but a body that the god would soon be occupying in order to enter the physical realm once again. The god had a distaste for the wings, and so they were cut from his body when he was eleven.
His 'coming of age' ritual at 15 was to have the god's brand burned across his right eye, allowing the god to start seeping into his body. The god also didn't enjoy his vibrantly streaked hair, and soon enough that began to turn completely black, just as the god bled into his eyes to get rid of their 'cheery' color.
When the dagger training began, he was urged to kill his sparring partner for a chance at freedom. When he finally did, he was told he'd have to kill the cultist watching him for that day - a feat he only managed three times. Realizing it was hopeless, he began trying to take his own life instead - amused, the god never stopped his attempts, but always healed him short of death, leaving him with many a scar to remind him of his folly.
Burning with hatred for his fate, one day he actually managed what was originally a taunt to make him fight - he killed his guards for the day, and fled.
He struggles daily with the god tainting his body, desperate for a way to stop the progression and remain himself.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Hikaru Suzuki
Age
34
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Serenian
Height
5'10"
Occupation
Mageknight Commander/Noble
Residence
Serendipity

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Hikaru is a surprisingly solid, muscular man, considering his high-tier lifestyle. Not terribly broad in shoulders, his waist still narrows a slight bit. His physical build is far closer to human, but the magic - and fae - is still very present. Bright cerulean blue hair is cut very short, with only a slight bit longer on top. His habit of running his hand through it means it's almost always fluffed up a bit, which looks surprisingly good. However short the rest of his hair, he does have two long slender braids at the nape of his neck, which fade from that bright blue, to a bluish green, and eventually into a golden yellow. His eyes are sharp pink, a rather unusual shade, but they do nothing to lighten his usually stern expressions. He prefers clothing that are form fitting, with crisp lines. Not bothered with money, he can afford clothes in various hues of blue, usually a bit muted like a stormy sky. His skin is naturally rather pale and peachy, and he will burn if he stays outside too long. Something that he always keeps covered are a pair of insect like wings that rest along his back - they are usually compact and small, rather dark in color. When he unfurls them and flushes them with blood, they literally 'grow' and extend into four velvety soft butterfly-esque wings with glittering blue-green eyespots - even the 'black' of the wings is shown to be an impossibly dark purple.

Personality
Hikaru is a bit humorless, being very focused on the task at hand - whatever it may be. Lots of thinking and planning shows on his face, giving him a shadow of a frown and a creased brow more often than not. Most people assume him to be unpleasant, but he's surprisingly soft spoken and polite. Usually gentle, and hard to rouse, Hikaru is very level headed and calm - which helps when he's coming up with new strategies for war and for teaching. He can be a stick in the mud when it comes to following rules, one of the few times a stubborn streak shows through. Not usually flustered, he doesn't know how to react to things outside his comfort zone. He hides his wings due to the stigma against actual Fae - he's not sure if he should consider himself one, and it's not a question he can legitimately ask anyone without revealing himself. He prefers to think of them as a birth defect, and ignores them as much as possible.

Strengths
Intelligent, level headed, master strategist, teaching, fair, observant, quick learner

Weaknesses
Rigid, unfriendly demeanor, kind of awkward, workaholic

Likes
Strategies, teaching, magic, stormy weather, being up high, rustling of trees, children, quiet days

Dislikes
Chaos and discord, rule breakers, excessive violence, carelessness, messy quarters

Magic/Abilities
Strategy - Excellent at coming up with ways to best utilize the mage units of the military. Naturally, there hasn't been any legitimate war during his term, but he's just as good at coming up with strategy for small skirmish battles in the northern regions of Serendipity.

Teaching - he oversees the training of all the military's mages. He's skilled at teaching mages how to best utilize and control their powers, regardless of the type of magic. If he meets someone his normal tactics don't work on, he is tireless in his search for a method that will succeed.

Storm magic - a bit unusual himself, Hikaru's magic is extremely powerful. Most often he manipulates electricity, but he can also create incredible wind powers as well. His control over water is fairly limited, but he can control the weather at will.

Relationships
Open!

History
Born into a lesser noble house, his magical powers manifested early - he was known for creating clouds in his playroom. He was given a very good education, and he thrived in the intellectual setting. His wings began to come in as he hit puberty, and he has hid them ever since, even as they've grown. He's just grateful they are usually shrunken and out of the way - he wasn't sure he was willing to maim himself to get rid of them. He entered into the military as a young adult, and easily climbed the ranks to attain the title of Head Mage/Commander. He's always been humble and hard working - he moved up by way of hard work, not cut throat drive.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Lukas Falk
Age
19
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Adelan
Height
5'10"
Occupation
Healer
Residence
Generally dragged along with Rafa

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Lukas tends to appear even taller than he really is, having rather long legs and a more tapering waist, though still having fairly broad shoulders. He's in shape, just not overly muscular - after all, he's supposed to be a healer, not a fighter. His sandy brown hair just barely covers his ears, but it curls loosely naturally, and he tends to find it an annoying half curled mess - he just can't figure out if it'd look worse or better if he cut it. His eyes are a very dark green, with just the slightest speckling of golden flecks if they catch the light. His skin is usually on the pale side of tan, but he's found himself outdoors a lot more these days and he's darkened up a few shades. Fashion isn't a huge concern for him. He'll shell out more for comfy clothing, but that's about it - comfort is paramount. Usually soft pants and loose fitting tops, comfy boots, those sorts of things.

Personality
Lukas seems laid back and sweet on the surface, totally harmless. Naturally that's a lie. He's incredibly sharp, always keeping an eye on people, despite his lazy smile. While being a healer means he's helping people in need, he will never allow himself to be taken advantage of - if you're looking for a free handout, you'll have to look elsewhere. That's not to say he turns people away who genuinely need help, he just doesn't let them off the hook for free - not always money, sometimes goods and services work just as well, or even a few favors to be called upon later. He keeps a running tally in that brain of his, and don't hold your breath if you're waiting for him to forget. On top of this, Lukas is incredibly deadly. He's made sure to know how to defend himself and then some, and gets a little scary when violence is involved.

Weaknesses
Hot guys Rafa, people in pain/injured (unless he was the one who injured them), animals (they're just so cute), mistrusting/extra wary, a little too good at faking things, emotionally detached/flippant, heights (gets weak in the knees, can faint)

Strengths
Very cool and level headed, does what's needed without hesitation, can add levity even to serious/deadly situations, surprisingly loyal, very reliable

Likes
Hot guys Rafa, eye candy, relaxing, swimming, browsing markets, animals, healing others, banter and joking around

Dislikes
Manipulative people, liars, overly hot or cold weather, being uncomfortable, being told what to do

Magic/Abilities
Healing - a very skilled healer, it's his only type of magic. Can quickly mend most surface wounds. Deeper wounds, broken bones, internal bleeding, and disease are also within his ability, though they take much longer and must be healed in stages over the course of days or even weeks.

Knife wielding - his weapon of choice, he's quite good at using knives and daggers to mess people up. Actually most small, pointy objects are rather deadly in his hands. He really dislikes swords though, and refuses to learn how to use them.

Relationships
Rafa - His current 'boy toy'. Well, okay, boyfriend. He's not used to being so attached to someone, so much so that he really doesn't bother ogling other guys. It's weird okay. He doesn't know how Rafa does it.

History
I really honestly don't know, and Lukas tends to just shrug. He doesn't really feel like his life was very exciting, up until Rafa started dragging him around the countryside. Now every day is some sort of crazy adventure.

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Hey bros, I've been pretty much MIA all December (Nov was nanowrimo, totes different excuse lol) due to a car accident I was in. Work, chiropractor appointments, and phone tag with insurance people is taking up a lot of my time and energy.
I'm sorry for the huge delay in posts, I'll reply when I can, and hopefully this gets wrapped up soon!

Luck was not a constant gift - it was fickle and ever changing. Sometimes small changes, sometimes big, but things could not always be in your favor. Today was a reminder of that fact, and it was a lesson he would well remember...if he survived it.
The sun had sagged low in the sky, casting purplish orange fingers across the darkening sky. It was likely the elongated shadows that had helped them elude capture, for it was not their fleet of foot - there was a fair amount of staggering to their fleeing this day.

For the first time Sorin felt he was the reason for their level of danger, rather than the one helping them to escape it. He'd not been sharp enough - his ears and eyes and nose had not been keen enough. Perhaps he'd simply not been 'enough' of anything. The arrow had not grazed, but pierced cleanly into him, at his back, above his hip. He knew it had hit something important, and he knew his body was straining to keep him upright even now.
Lavi had little Lumi on her slender back, marching along with determination despite the sweat on her brow and the worry pulling her puffy lips into a frown. Sorin stumbled along behind her, trying to keep unnaturally vivid, bright green eyes on the girls so as not to get lost. The edges of his vision were fuzzy with tendrils of unconsciousness, and he could feel life leaking out of the hole in him, the sticky trail traveling all the way down his leg to meet the Earth. Luckily it seemed She had not abandoned him this day, for where he left a bloody trail, She sent up shoots and knobby things to grow into the crimson and cover it, hide it, so that he could not be so easily followed by his pursuers.

Lavi had never before been in charge of getting them somewhere safe. She did not know where to take them, where to go. The forest was thin here, and she did not feel safe. All she knew was she needed to get brother somewhere he could rest - if he died, she did not know if she had the ability to keep herself and Lumi alive. They relied so much on him...the least she could do was try and find a safe place.
Instead, she ran into a town.
Freezing on the other side of the hedge ,she just stared at the lights springing up as night engulfed the land. There were houses here, people. While most might see this as a welcome thing, it sent nothing but a pit of fear and hopelessness into the depths of her stomach. This was not where they should be. This was the worst place for them! But could they turn back? She did not know where the hunters were...and brother...could he bring himself to backtrack?

Coming to a lurching stop behind her, Sorin blinked unfocused eyes at the view before them. Their feet had led them to a pit of snakes...yet perhaps it was what the Gods wanted for them. To hide in the place you are least expected...
Wheezing and rasping with exertion, Sorin did not bother trying to speak. He simple nudged Lavi, and motioned weakly to a house on the outskirts, near enough for him to make it there.
Without question, the silent girl led the way to the cottage, and then charmed the bolt on the hind door to allow them entry. Somehow they slipped in with silence, the door closed and locked behind them.
Sorin had enough lucidity to notice they were in a storeroom of sorts, likely a corner of the house near the back, before his shoulder brushed a wall and the sense of solidarity forced him to crumple to the wooden floorboards.

Lavi breathed in sharply through her nose, and set Lumi's bundled form onto the ground so she could tend to him. The little blond child watched with no real understanding, save that it was best to be quiet - a lesson she had learned in her time with them.
Sorin still bled from the wound in his back, a slow leak of life. He'd broken the shaft of the arrow but left the head inside of him, and Lavi had been told not to remove it until they could be still for a time and staunch the bleeding.
Unfortunately her brother was all but dead to the world, and she could barely pull him forward enough to see the wound, let alone tend to it. Besides, for this, she would likely have to fill it with ointment or stop the bleeding with a hot knife...she had neither the ingredients for healing nor a fire to use.
An abrupt sense of helplessness overwhelmed her, and silent as the dead, hot fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

So there may have indeed been something on his agenda for the day that had mentioned a proper breakfast with the Queen and a few of her relatives, planned well in advance as was everything on said agenda, and likely told to him at one time or another, perhaps even several times, leading up to this actual morning of.
And on this morning of, there were at least a dozen servants and the like looking with desperate abandon for the man who may have indeed had something to that effect on his agenda for the last three months.
A man who was not in fact at the table at that very moment with his Queen and her mother, father, aunt, and younger sister.

A man who was currently well outside the castle, in the aerie he'd had built, currently trying to wrestle one of his seven Featherfall Gryphons into allowing him to trim an errant talon that had gotten a few inches too long. He had already lost a good portion of his shirt in the process, as the gray-and-black mottled beast was determinedly nipping him with it's hooked beak, grazing his tanned skin in a determined show of protest. Of course, given the number of excessive scars he already had, he didn't even bat an eyelash at the multitude of small scratches currently appearing across his broad back.
He would get this damnable talon under control. It was a matter of pride now. Well, and it wouldn't do to have the talon grow into the poor creature's foot!

Yes, this man...was the King of Serendipity, one Rheinallt Di'Veera, and he was unaware of being in a whole heap of trouble.

He was beginning to understand the differences between the cities. They just seemed to be full of buildings and people, and the overall hustle and bustle of life was so overwhelming that he could hardly take it all in, even after watching for twelve hours straight (though eventually the townsfolk had gotten rather uncomfortable in that particular situation, and he'd been asked to move). Still, he was quite proud to say he was beginning to notice the 'feel' of a city, and this one in particular was quite intriguing.
The overall energy was incredible, and very strange. Like two different sides of a coin, always connected yet perfectly opposite.

Without knowing anything about the city itself, he had unwittingly planted himself right on the invisible dividing line between the two halves of this eclectic city. Incredibly tall and dressed all in sleek black, he was practically a living pole in the road, causing others to skirt about him with curious or perturbed looks. For his part, he looked peacefully blank, though his sharp blue eye was watching all the wonderfully diverse humanoids going about their daily lives. The sun was beginning to sag, yet the flow of people had hardly abated at all, so unlike many other topside towns he had visited thus far.

Strange though he was, he had no idea that anybody might have the innate ability to see his demonic aura. Not that he wouldn't come out and say what he was if asked, but he'd taken great pains to make himself seem as 'human' as possible so as not to frighten the native denizens of this bright, vibrant plane.
Tonight that seemed likely to change, though even he had no inkling of it yet.

She skirted around a clod of people, shoving their ridiculous ruffles and stiff lace out of the way as she went, ignoring their indignant cries. Yeah yeah, I'm a filthy urchin, touching your gawdy clothes, cry me a river.
I also have my grubby little hands all over your precious coin purses, heh heh heh.
Grinning devilishly to herself, the fat little lumps of coin now nestled into her own ratty top, she laced her fingers behind her and ducked around a corner calmly. Pick pocketing had become almost painfully easy for her, but then she'd been doing it almost since she could walk. When your next meal rides on your ability to pilfer something, you get real good real fast - or you die.
She was completely unapologetic about her rather specific skill set. It was all that kept her alive most days.

Pausing at the open end of the alley, she watched people bustling by in their rich jewel tones and formal muted browns and grays. The air was a bit ripe when the wind shifted, but overall it smelled like food and dust. To her, it smelled like home - the streets were all she knew. She rubbed at her nose, smearing a bit of the dirt covering her freckles. Of course now she had a different kind of home...a secret place, filled with people like her. She was already itching to use some of the things Sachi had taught her...she was only holding back now since her 'mentor' had a few more things to impart upon her young impressionable brain. Oh well, she obviously hadn't needed the new tactic today - ducking further into the shadowy passageway, she withdrew one of her new shiny gold coins, grinning at her warped reflection on it's glimmering surface.

(TERRIBAD STARTER POST IS TERRIBAD)

Another crisp, cold morning, their breath hovering in the air on mist laden clouds. The chill in the earth had seeped into their bones, and he knew that they had reached the time when they would begin making their beds in the trees. Winter was coming, and it was not kind this close to the mountains. Wrapping his blood red scarf more securely around his face to keep his nose safe from the nipping air, he tended to Lumi with still stiff fingers.
He worried most about the fair haired toddler - she did not have the vitality for this lifestyle, and yet he could provide nothing different for her. He had added to her usual cloth wrappings the pelts of a few hares stitched together. Their fur would shield her somewhat, but she sniffled pathetically and buried her face into his bare chest as he attempted to resituate her wrappings. Her nose was wet and cold, and he let her rest against him, petting the back of her tiny neck when she whimpered a few times.

A rustle came from nearby, and he knew Lavi was there even in their silence. She was dressed in naught but a 'skirt' of similar rabbit skins and a 'necklace' of bird leg bones, beaks, and talons. Like Sorin, who had an equally sparse wardrobe, she did not seem terribly bothered by the cold aside from the lingering numbness of their earthen bed. What she did want, however, was some breakfast - the stare she was giving him told him as much.

The three of them did not oft require words to communicate, and even the littlest Lumi, untouched by the gods and goddesses, had learned how to pick up on their subtle cues and hints and to give her own. Thus in silence they broke camp and began to trek quietly through the woods, Sorin at the head, abnormally bright green eyes scanning the trees ahead for food in a way that only a wild creature could. Behind him, Lavi moved just as silently, and though she was but a child herself, she had Lumi strapped to her back, the toddler still dozing off, head lolling to one side.
Thus they continued, unknown to most of the civilized world - just how they liked it.