Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2013 22:48:05 GMT -8
JETRA BLAISE KEIRAN-- SIXTEEN-- RAVENCLAW
full name: Jetra Blaise Keiran
nicknames: Jet, J, Blaze
age: sixteen
birthplace: Winsford, Cheshire
blood-type: half-blood
sexuality: biconfused
year/occupation: fifth year
three words to describe character: sarcastic, witty, ambitious
play by: Andrew Biersack
Holy shit. It seemed that in the blink of an eye - while the boy blinked, in fact - his world changed. A strange feeling crept over him, a sort of ache right in his heart and stomach that was commonly known as terror. A figure far larger and stronger than little Osirus now rose from the sand, fangs - Fangs! That guy has fangs! - bared, a growl resonating from him... The slender, short boy was frozen in place. Well, at least for a moment.
I have control of this being. It didn't take long for quick-thinking, witty Osirus to make a solution from his confusion and fear. This demon would be his. "Hierodinious." Now that the name seemed real and had substance, it carried a new weight on Sir's tongue. He tentatively stepped forward, raising his head despite being far shorter than the extremely intimidating monster before him. Surely he was dreaming. This couldn't be happening. It was too frightening, too impossible. Logic? Logic had already gone home, leaving this fantasy caricature of life in the wake of its absence. Within that realm that seemed neither real nor tangible also lurked this personage straight from myth. Sir's slate-blue eyes went slowly, almost ponderously, to the book and back to the apparent fabrication it had summoned. And then the skinny boy removed his hood and hat, walking several steps forward with the book still in hand. The flashlight, along with the hat, would come to rest on the vaguely violet sand.
"Welcome to your new home," the boy had the nerve to say in a calm voice, though on the inside he was still shaking like a frightened child. He wanted to smile, but he was afraid if he did it would falter; above all things, the new master wanted to keep his facade strong. Primarily because any average human could very well injure the boy badly... He had no intention of letting a momentary lapse of calm be his demise. He didn't know the rules, he hadn't bothered with the thought of them. Could the demon even hurt him? (Who wanted to find out?)
"I am Osirus." He figured if this was to work, names would be a good start. However, he was curious to see just how volatile this intimidating time bomb was, without triggering it. Those that had no education defusing bombs would be stupid to try, and quite honestly, there was no way Sir could have gotten the proper education for this. Oh man. He thought of all the things suddenly made possible. And the implications. He rather hoped things would soon be better than a mess of growling and a ball of ice in his stomach, twisting it as if Sir's strength was fragile wire. What had Osirus gotten himself - and the demon - into? Don't back out of this, me. This is for the best. Why would I lie to you? I'm you! At least nobody was around to see this. The boy gently closed the book, and set it on the ground with his other belongings, and silently thanked the sky for moonlight. In the bone-white glow of the lunar body overhead, little Osirus truly saw the "fabrication", and how it looked like something that could easily disembowel a faint little human. And yet, he was also strongly human, a very attractive sort of human. Sure, if Osirus had been aiming for something more his style, Hierodinious wouldn't have been his selection... But he wasn't shallow, and he didn't have that on his mind. He was still getting over the fact that the book's lines had actually worked.
nicknames: Jet, J, Blaze
age: sixteen
birthplace: Winsford, Cheshire
blood-type: half-blood
sexuality: biconfused
year/occupation: fifth year
three words to describe character: sarcastic, witty, ambitious
play by: Andrew Biersack
Holy shit. It seemed that in the blink of an eye - while the boy blinked, in fact - his world changed. A strange feeling crept over him, a sort of ache right in his heart and stomach that was commonly known as terror. A figure far larger and stronger than little Osirus now rose from the sand, fangs - Fangs! That guy has fangs! - bared, a growl resonating from him... The slender, short boy was frozen in place. Well, at least for a moment.
I have control of this being. It didn't take long for quick-thinking, witty Osirus to make a solution from his confusion and fear. This demon would be his. "Hierodinious." Now that the name seemed real and had substance, it carried a new weight on Sir's tongue. He tentatively stepped forward, raising his head despite being far shorter than the extremely intimidating monster before him. Surely he was dreaming. This couldn't be happening. It was too frightening, too impossible. Logic? Logic had already gone home, leaving this fantasy caricature of life in the wake of its absence. Within that realm that seemed neither real nor tangible also lurked this personage straight from myth. Sir's slate-blue eyes went slowly, almost ponderously, to the book and back to the apparent fabrication it had summoned. And then the skinny boy removed his hood and hat, walking several steps forward with the book still in hand. The flashlight, along with the hat, would come to rest on the vaguely violet sand.
"Welcome to your new home," the boy had the nerve to say in a calm voice, though on the inside he was still shaking like a frightened child. He wanted to smile, but he was afraid if he did it would falter; above all things, the new master wanted to keep his facade strong. Primarily because any average human could very well injure the boy badly... He had no intention of letting a momentary lapse of calm be his demise. He didn't know the rules, he hadn't bothered with the thought of them. Could the demon even hurt him? (Who wanted to find out?)
"I am Osirus." He figured if this was to work, names would be a good start. However, he was curious to see just how volatile this intimidating time bomb was, without triggering it. Those that had no education defusing bombs would be stupid to try, and quite honestly, there was no way Sir could have gotten the proper education for this. Oh man. He thought of all the things suddenly made possible. And the implications. He rather hoped things would soon be better than a mess of growling and a ball of ice in his stomach, twisting it as if Sir's strength was fragile wire. What had Osirus gotten himself - and the demon - into? Don't back out of this, me. This is for the best. Why would I lie to you? I'm you! At least nobody was around to see this. The boy gently closed the book, and set it on the ground with his other belongings, and silently thanked the sky for moonlight. In the bone-white glow of the lunar body overhead, little Osirus truly saw the "fabrication", and how it looked like something that could easily disembowel a faint little human. And yet, he was also strongly human, a very attractive sort of human. Sure, if Osirus had been aiming for something more his style, Hierodinious wouldn't have been his selection... But he wasn't shallow, and he didn't have that on his mind. He was still getting over the fact that the book's lines had actually worked.
DEE -- NINETEEN-- NONE
