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Fantasy I Was Reborn As A Demihuman And Became A Mage Apprentice (Characters) [Full/Recruitment closed]

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TanteRegenbogen

The Person formerly known as Anii ⚧
Character Sheet:

Name
Age
Gender
Demi-Human type (for example: dog, fox, mouse, bear, raccoon,...)
Appearance
Clothing (steampunk or victorian type. Can be a little more modern such as shorter skirt or shortsleeved.)
Personality
Background
Likes/Dislikes
Optional:
Alignment (how good natured or malicious your character is)
Favorite item (can be a stuff animal for example)
 
Name: Neria Bocq/Caretaker
Age: 70, appears early 30s
Gender: Female
Demi-Human type: Fox
Appearance: 1607995291314.png Usually has fox ears and a tail, but can easily hide them.
Clothing: Most of the time, she wears a long skirt and a button up blouse with a ribbon. Sometimes she wears a long dress with a tie. When formally presenting as a magic user, she wears a long blue and white hooded robe with a black turtleneck underneath. Non magic user formal attire would be a blue evening gown with either a blue or black choker.
Personality: Neria is a mostly kind spirited woman. She tends to and protects the children she freed from slavery as if they were her own. She however doesn't take kindly to malicious intent on behalf of the children and wont just scold them, but punish them accordingly. Neria herself tends to be nicer to demihumans than humans and will sometimes go out of her way to teach humans who mistreat demihumans a lesson. This mostly comes as turning them into demihumans for a day or so. Because of such actions, she is mostly referred to as "the witch" in town.
Background: Not much about her past is known. She likely came from a demihuman village and learned magic from a powerful wizard. Whether the wizard was demihuman or human is unknown. After travelling for a bit, she decided to settle down in the human settlement of Ambreville. After becoming well known in Ambreville for creating useful tinctures and healing mysterious ailments, Neria became a city council member for a while. She still holds a lot of influence these days. One day when in the neighboring city, Neria came across a slave market and spotted demihuman youths among the slaves. She decided to buy and free them while in a disguise, adopting them and planning to make them her apprentices.
Likes: Likes toying with people, creamy cakes, black tea, her adopted children
Dislikes: Disobedience, people who hate demihumans, the fact that slavery still exists
Optional:
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, she basically does what she wants regardless whether it is considered good or evil
Favorite item: Her wand which she can summon into her hand. It's compact form looks like a small wand with a purple crystal on it. In full form, it is a staff with a large purple crystal on it.
She also has a walking cane, not only for ease of walking but also for self-defense.
 
Name: Fennel Ravel
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Demi-Human type: Rabbit
Appearance: Has a short white tipped tail
1608173253410.png
Clothing: Tends towards semi-formal button up shirts and slacks even in casual situations

Personality: A studious and polite boy Fennel would normally be the sort to keep to himself but he is convinced that he was reborn for a reason driving him to stick his nose into trouble and try to help people. While his willingness to do favours can make him appear subservient he quickly becomes resentful when exploited. While wary of possible mistreatment from humans Fennel feels there are those that can be trusted and is well aware that demihumans are not automatically good.

Background: Once a recently graduated business studies student starting out in his first job in his field the young man was rather put out when he was slain during a train accident and came back as the child of a destitute demihuman family living in the slums of an industrial city. After just over ten years of half-starving and half-choking on factory fumes his 'family' decided they needed one less mouth to feed and felt like making a bit of extra cash in the process, one night Fennel found himself being handed off to a trafficker in exchange for a pittance.

Fennel's first trip to the auction block led to him being purchased by a wealthy old man with a large demihuman staff on his estate, while he chafed at being enslaved he quickly found his new master to be the kindly sort who treated his staff well and Fennel's seemingly prodigious head for business allowed him to flourish as best as being enslaved would allow.

As time passed the old man's health began to fail and Fennel learned that he had left instructions in his will to free all his slaves after his death as well as leaving a small sum to each of them, when he finally died however his nephew who inherited the estate instead kept everything for himself and swiftly scattered all of the demihuman slaves selling them off at different markets to stifle any cries of foul play. While at market for the second time he caught the eye of The Caretaker.
Likes: Music, cookies, keeping clean
Dislikes: Trains, physical labour, grime
Optional: Suffers from a constant cough due to early exposure to pollution.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Favourite item: A violin given to him by his former owner.
 
Name: Caelum Leonis Elisedd

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Demi-Human type: Bat

Appearance:
1608272800234.png
Clothing: Comfort is a big thing for him. He wears whatever is the easiest to move around in but he also tends to wear 2 different outfits depending on the time on day. He wears more formal clothing in the daytime often accented with some odd metal accessory but at night he wears darker clothing that doesn’t stand out as much. He wears his wings over his shoulders like a cloak when not using them and his bat ears are hidden underneath his hair. When he does have them out, they are pointed out more for emphasis. He also is sure to have his hands covered in some way when he is out in the daytime.

Personality: Caelum acts differently depending on who’s around him and how well they know him. Around strangers he’s polite and civil, often using words and charm to avoid situations of conflict. When he’s with friends he’s more relaxed however he still doesn’t reveal his true self. Only when he is alone, hunting, or with those who he considers family does he show himself, a hunter, a tease, and to some…a monster and not in the was demi humans are considered. He will torment those he wants without fear of response. He loves scaring others but with family he doesn’t take it so far that they’d be traumatized, he saves that for his prey. Caelum does study and is smart but also fairly bored in normal situations. He does have a temper at times. Those who he cares for don’t have to worry when he’s near as he’s very loyal. His version of hunting is merely him scaring them to the point that the faint.

Background: Once a man who’d become depressed and disillusioned with life. He felt stuck and stifled by the world around him and by how well others he knew were doing and how they’d done incredible things with theirs while he hadn’t made any real headway. He constantly looked back on his life with several regrets over what he’d done and how he wished he could do things differently. He hoped that a person or event would come into his life and give him that hopeless optimism that he once felt when he was a child. He often wished that life was more like the shows he watched with over-the-top powers and plot lines if only a little. One day while driving for no particular reason other than to not be cooped up in his home, a vehicle ran a stop sign and he passed on.

He had been born into slavery not really remembering his family at all. As a bat demi he was considered unusual for having wings instead of a tail but was still sold nonetheless. However, he’d actually been sold previously. The 1st time was when he was a small child. His owners attempted to teach him to hunt others for money. He was taught that fear would be his best weapon as his flying power made his seem like a monster. This is where he developed the taste for the hunt. Yet when the time came for him to actually take the life of someone, he found that he couldn’t do it no matter what they did to him he refused to do as they wished. He was sold but not before putting tattoos on his palms to mark him as someone who would not kill others, a weakness in their eyes.

Likes: To scare others, playing tricks, flying, this new world despite its flaws, dares, dancing, stories

Dislikes: Closed spaces, killing, mundane tasks, people who complain too much, rotten or flavorless food

Optional: Claustrophobic

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Favorite item: Tattoo on each of his palms
 


  • Nisha Syrvi
    Previous Name: Taylor Bell


    EiVkehsUwAIFKJ1.jpg

    Age: 15
    Gender: Female
    Demi-Human type: Cat
    Personality: Nisha can be rather hard to describe by others, as sometimes she seems to be rather extroverted and optimistic, while other times she's a tad bit shy and quiet. With the whole "new world, new me" schtick she got, she wanted to ditch her old personality and better herself as a person, so she could really make the most of life, especially after her previous life was cut short. Nisha could be seen as a rather excitable individual, as she's always fascinated and excited to see what kind of magic there is in this world. For the most part, she's a kind, friendly and sometimes outgoing individual, attempting to make friends with whoever she can, even those who would look down upon her for her race.
    However, she doesn't really ever trust anybody, not even her closest friends. Between her trauma in her past life and having been forced into slavery in this life, she's lost any ability to trust anybody else. She heavily dislikes having other people do something for her, as she never expects them to go through with it, and will usually attempt to do it herself. Of course, she doesn't show her distrust towards everybody publicly. She could even be seen as naïve, with how she acts "trusting" towards everybody, in order to try and regain that ability to trust others.
    Likes: Her bell, magic, learning new magic, practicing said new magic, her new self, music and having people she can "depend" on.
    Dislikes: Loud noises, thinking about her past life and what happened after she got reincarnated into this world, people who betray her trust/expectations, getting hurt, desecration of the dead and violence.
    Optional: She wears a collar with a bell attached to it around her neck. It used to be a normal bell which could be rung by her previous owners to control her actions/emotions, however it's been remodeled and attached to a collar, which she can ring whenever she wants to to help her calm down if she's ever in a panic.
    Alignment: Neutral Good
    Favorite item: Her bell collar around her neck.



d
 
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Viz
6959b93b946c1a413fe519fd23748496736a2670.jpg

Age
18

Gender
Female

Demi-Human type
Wolf

Appearance
ea081a247555f829348317336211628806688436.png
Viz stands at 5'6", and has a lean, somewhat muscular build. She sports snow-white hair with black tips, and has soft, light blue eyes, though their depths do not hold any warmth. Her body is heavily scarred, though she covers this up very nicely with her clothes. However, one ugly gash across her left eye and one across her thigh still remains visible to all.

Clothing
She wears a black dress with a shortened skirt, and a white vest, complete with a torn black overcoat. She tends towards shiny brooches and jewelry to accentuate the black.

Personality
Viz is...strange, to put it lightly. Much of what she does is contradictory. She values camaraderie above all else, yet she is the sort of person that is most likely to do things alone if it comes down to it. She is watchful and cunning, yet she exudes an air of callous recklessness, doing only what she wants, when she wants with seemingly little care of what others think or do otherwise. She likes to believe that she is a free spirit, yet she shows fierce loyalty towards certain people. There is more than the loud ball of energy than meets the eye, but until someone catches her when she is sullenly contemplating her next move, she will always remain the chaotic furball that everyone knows and (maybe) loves.

She seems to enjoy poking people and testing their limits by making fun of them. It's all harmless fun on her end, and she never really gouges her targets too deep, but she has a way with words and actions, using both to get a rise out of others just to amuse herself. There is no deep meaning to this, apparently- she explains that she simply enjoys seeing people get flustered or panicky. However, it seems that she only does this to familiarise herself with others, and she tends to tone it down a bit more when she finally gets used to them. If she doesn't engage in these kinds of frivolities with someone, it's a clear sign she doesn't really care who they are or what they do, and are expendable to her.

She despises people who are uncertain of things, and hates hesitation. She advocates decisiveness, and pushes others to take action rather than mull over their thoughts. Hesitation is what costs many their prize, from her experience. She also has a problem with authority, and believes that strength is what determines who is right, not a bunch of words in some stupid book. However, this also means that a show of strength is enough to impress her and earn her respect. This also kind of showcases that she is not someone who views things skin-deep, as her idea of strength also extends to that of the heart. Someone who holds fast to their ideals rather than giving it up at the slightest provocation earns her respect as much as, if not more so than, someone who can lift a wagon single-handedly.

Background
She remembered a time when she wasn't herself. In another time, another world, she was part of a family, much bigger than a normal family. There were no fathers or mothers, just brothers in arms. She was happy then, happy to drink, party, and enjoy life with her big messed up family. Of course, life in such a family came with its dangers, and her past self found its conclusion at the end of several barrels of guns. Whoever she was, they died with a smile on their face, taking down as many as they could before they finally breathed their last. She was confident that those she knew celebrated her life as much as they mourned her death. Going down like that was probably how every single one of her family members envisioned their ideal ends to be. 'Never go into that night without putting up a fight,' as they used to say.

So when she was born into the same kind of messed up family in this world, she loved every second of it. Vicious highwaymen, bandits, and marauders, each and every one of them, and yet they cared for their own. She fit right in amongst them. She never knew her father or her mother, and when she asked, all the others could answer was that she was merely a child of a mutual acquaintance of theirs. She didn't care anyway. She was happier this way. She fought, bled, ate, laughed, and slept alongside her brothers and sisters in this world, just as easily as she did with her brothers in the previous. She didn't know if this was a second chance, or some screwed up way that providence was making fun of her, but as long as she was alive, she decided that she could enjoy this life as much as she did the previous. Providence could go suck it. Like she did her previous family, she loved this one just as much, and made the same promise to them as she did her old family. She would protect them, old or young.

So when her family was beset by a group of mercenaries hired by lawmen, she took up the last stand once more. Ready to die for a second time, she stood her ground, and chased her own family away. Her eyes ablaze with mad joy, she defended the honor of her family, and eventually fell to her wounds. Angered by her interference and the fact that they wouldn't be earning their keep because of their failure, the leader of the mercenary group decided to use the demi-human to make up for their losses, and sold her off as a slave. Of course, beatings rarely worked on this wild beast, and she is convinced that once she saw the opportunity to escape, she'll make it. No one can contain her.

Likes/Dislikes
+Fights
+Weapons
+Magic
+Strong (both in heart and body) people
+Meat
-Stagnation
-Weak and soft-hearted people
-Wishy-washy behaviour
-Traitors
-Vegetables

Optional:
From where she came from, no one had a family name, and only went by their given name. As such, Viz is the only name that people refer her by, and the only name she knows.

Her previous name was Yamada Kaoru.

Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral. She truly embodies the idea of 'I do what I want', and has little regard for what others think, or what the rules say.

Favorite item:
A gold cross. It seems to remind her of something. She can perfectly recite a few sayings from a certain religious book that doesn't exist in this world as well, showing that she is somewhat well-read.
 
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Jade Hawkwood
cutieofsig.png

Age: 19
Gender: Female
Demi-Human: Bear

Clothing: Her uniform is loud and purposefully garish. Its bright blue and orange stripes are eye catching, but worn and stitched in a number of places. The pieces of armor she has donned are polished to a near-perfect degree, but doesn't put off the fact that it's a patchwork of platemail, only protecting her chest, forearms and leading leg in battle. Out of uniform, she prefers men's pants, and deigns to wear a woman's blouse if she has to look nice.

Personality: Jade is a very straightforward person. If she doesn't like something, she'll be upfront on how much she doesn't like that thing. If she finds somebody useful, she'll state out loud how much she appreciates that particular person being around. As such, she comes off as an angry person, and that would be a proper assessment. Jade is incredibly confrontational with people, but not out of malice. She finds that taking the most direct route is the best way to get your point across to somebody else, whether they choose to understand it once you ram down their gates to deliver a simple note is up to them, in her opinion.

However, she isn't "on" all the time, looking to start a fight or a heated conversation. She's got energy to save for the important stuff. Most of the time, she'll let most things slide right off her rugged hide. Insults, poor calls of judgement, or reminders of mistakes she's made she takes in stride with a shrug and a mumble of "That's life." She believes that people often choose to fight and die on the wrong hills, but when she does it, the true firebrand inside of her begins to spark up. However, that's just for whatever hill she deems worthy enough to stand and die on. She's more than content to admit her failings in that regard, especially to those she doesn't see as worth her time.

Most of all about her though, Jade doesn't like when injustice takes place, and values actions over words. People may say they believe in one thing, and do another. People change, and people choose to make mistakes sometimes, only to let others pay for it. With actions, there is no room for confusion or lies like there is with words. If you go out of your way to help people, then you're a good person, simple as that. If you've bled for others, then you have a heart of gold, and that she can respect. Jade has always been something of a glacier when people have dealt with her: unable to be moved on much, unreadable, and slow when coming to decisions, but actions have always spoken louder than words to her. She would rather turn her blade on a disingenuous ally than on an enemy who is true to themselves and their opponent.

Background:
Even before she was brought into this world, in her previous life, Jade was known to be an exceptionally strong willed individual, known to push herself to the limits, and break them. Before she became Jade, she was an Olympic swimmer who died and early death from recreational diving due to a drowning incident.

Reborn into the world as a demi-human, she was found as a mere baby on the side of a well worn road between small towns. Luckily for her, a band of mercenaries known as Hawkwood's Ravens -known for aiding those in need and asking for little in return- were passing through at the time, and their leader, James Hawkwood, found her first before anyone else. With two brown ears at the top of her head and nobody else around to lay claim to the naked, crying baby, Hawkwood took it upon himself to raise her as his own. He had never had a child before, never had a woman for more than a week either, but he took her in nonetheless, making sure to keep her status as a demi-human secret from the rest of his mercenaries. By the age of 3 she had learned how to walk, and at the age of 6 she had learned how to properly swing a sword.

However, James was reaching the end of his human life. He was one of the rare few mercenaries who reached 60 years of age, and by the time Jade was about 15, it had definitely been showing. After a particularly bloody battle from a series of roving thugs, Hawkwood breathed his last, and his second in command came into power. Jack Dunham. He wasn't so focused on the strong core of morality and fellowship the Ravens originally stood for, and instead focused the group around things more befitting of mercenaries: money. Cheap jobs that paid well and were simple. Escorting goods, shaking down merchants entering and leaving cities, clearing out groups of bandits. It was when Jack had accepted a job for clearing out another group of outlaws that things began to change.

Jade was now 19, of age, when they had come across another group of woodland bandits, but something was different this time. They had come across the lot of them, and they had started to scatter. Typical, or so she thought. People who began to chase were stopped in their tracks by a single girl. Just one, who seemed to capture everyone's attention all at once as their marks disappeared into foreign woods. There was no doubt that they had ruined their mission. However, rather than turning and running, this single girl stood and fought. She fought so hard, that after many wounds, she finally succumbed. That night, scorning their defeat at the hands of a single girl, the group had decided to imprison her and toss her to the hungry jaws of slavery the next town over. Jade however, felt very differently. Bandits never had a sense of honor about them, they would sell their mother for the quickest spot of coin to cover them for the next week if need be, but she had never seen self-sacrifice. Not from a bandit, and most certainly not from a demi-human.

That night, a conflict of morality and financial interests came to mind. Jade brought up how she remembered Hawkwood feeding these people, supplying them so that they could stop stealing and taking, and perhaps become a part of society again. Dunham reminded her how they gave up their own food for those vagrants, and they wouldn't eat for a few nights because of that. Because to them, they were just free food. Dunham's men, new recruits who shared his idea of profit began to stand for him, while Jade and the veteran members rose for what the Ravens stood for, and what Hawkwood believed in. Blades clashed that night, and after her sword shattered, Jade lost her hat. Revealed as a demi-human in the midst of men, her followers looked at the young protege of James Hawkwood differently, and the tides turned again.

In the morning, she was sold off just the same as the other demi-human. Years of training and trust from her former comrades faded away as she saw money exchange hands. She still bears all her scars, but the new ones are of torture and slavery, not the glory of battle and fighting for true belief.

Likes/Dislikes:
+Training
+Caring for her things
+Travelling light
+Eating with a group
+Doing good
+Fishing
-Lying, and liars
-Getting tricked
-Killing without reason
-Getting into pointless arguments
-Spineless people
-Sleeping without the (implied) company of others

Alignment: Neutral Good. She grew up with a really strong sense of morality and doing what's right. She follows the rules, but when the rules are clearly wrong, she's not afraid to challenge them.

Favorite item: It's her broken great sword. She still keeps it in her sheath, but it's more an unwieldy dagger or an axe with very little blade.
 
Doreon Nocte
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Age:
19

Gender: Male

Demi-Human type: Hyena

Appearance: Animalistic features aside, Doreon appears as a young man that barely exceeds average height. However, under his flamboyant formal clothing hides a well-defined athletic build; not bulky enough for his muscles to be visible under his clothes. In contrast to his very formal way of dress, the messy mop of ashen grayish hair that falls down his back, is the characteristic feature that stands out at first glance. Often carries around this disinterested/indifferent gaze that oddly complements his light blue eyes.

Clothing: Although he wasn't quite fond of everyone's over the top formalities, he found himself very infactuated with the search for donning the perfect attire; something that assimilated the former 'business man' style he had in his past life.

And so he stuck with wearing a proper suit and tie that reminded him of the one he wore back then. He became obsessed with it, rather; wearing the same black dress shirt and blazer (Complimented by matching slacks, of course) everyday, no matter the occasion.

Personality: To sum up his jumbled mess of a personality into simplified words, Doreon is an extremely lazy and nonchalant person that often avoids future conflicts/complications by making use of his disinterested nature at his favour. His imposing lack of energy tends to latch onto the people that get to have a conversation with him and either piques their interest in a very peculiar way or turns them into an apathetic husk of a human; like himself.

Although his deadpan responses to everything might come off as unenthusiastic and make him seem as a bored individual that finds no joy in life, he actually holds a very powerful passion for the small things in existence.

All he really wants is a peaceful, relaxed life devoid of problems. And he tends to get serious whenever someone disrupts the peace he so eagerly craves.

Background: Once known as Fushiguro Kageyama, Doreon's only memories of his past life were filled with discontent and disappointment.

In Fushiguro's youth he was seen as your typical everyday spike-haired troublemaker, roaming the streets with his deadbeat crew, beating anyone up for god knows what reason. Though his wannabe yakuza years were cut short in the span of a few days.

Back then, Fushiguro's only father figure was that of his grandfather. Of course, death catches up quick when you're of age, and Fushiguro's gramps was no exception.

Even though cancer made it extremely hard to talk, he made sure his last words were heard; a message directed to his grandson. He'd been imparting his wisdom to Fushiguro every day he could, although not once did his grandson pay attention. Therefore when Fushiguro's eyes swelled up with tears as he heard his only family's parting words, the old man passed away with a wide grin plastered on his face.

After hearing how saddened his grandfather was at what he'd become, Fushiguro realised he'd been wasting away his youth. It was a rather powerful blow for him, he acted like the toughest of the tough but in reality he was just as soft as everyone he'd harassed throughout the years.

He was devastated, to say the least. But his drive to change his delinquent ways was burning ablaze, so he took his gramps words to heart and worked harder than the rest.

At the age of 28 he managed to keep a pretty stable life, having a somewhat respectable career as an office worker. The overzealous happy-go-lucky personality he had at first slowly turning more aloof and stoic as time flew by.

Stealing from the customer, making the rich even richer. That's how Fushiguro's day-to-day routine was. It was no surprise that he'd found himself wasting his life away again, but he knew this time there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Worn down by the expectations set by his grandfather, Fushiguro truly gave in to his mundane practices; casting aside his happiness for a semi-decent income, every waking moment wondering if this is what his grandfather wanted for him.

Until one whimsical, fateful twist of events led him to his death. He didn't quite recall what it was that killed him, all he really remembered was the feeling of cold steel puncturing his gut followed by a complete sepulchral silence. And then the blackened wings of death took hold of him in a warm embrace.

The moment he regained consciousness he was already huffing black clouds and doing heavy duty. No real possession to his name, only a number and a change of clothes. Of course, most would find breathing toxic fumes and carrying around heavy loads everyday non-stop as a maddening task, but Fushiguro was used to working extra hours with no rest. Most of his days were spent doing what he was told whilst looking off into the horizon with a thoughtful expression.

All the work he was given was entrancing enough for him to reflect on his current situation. Of course he didn't really have to overthink about whatever happened to him, he automatically understood it was one of those situations, instead he reserved his brain juice to scheme a solid escape plan.

Every moment he wasn't exactly working, he began exercising like a maniac, mostly to let his mind wander off. However, not a damn break was wasted. As he'd build himself a reputation around his captives as the overworking slave, the guards mistakenly took his hard work as loyalty. And so he waited for them to let their guard down to run away as fast as he could.

It would've been an infallible plan if not only for all the fatigue his body had built up over the years. He was caught and sold to slavery once again. But, by a whimsical, fateful turn of events... a benevolent hand reached out to him.

Likes/Dislikes:
+Peace and tranquility
+Hard work
+Professionalism
+A nice meal
+Comradery
-Disingenuous people
-Betrayal
-Chaos
-Senseless violence
-Flashy magic

Optional: May or may not come off as condescending sometimes.

Alignment: True Neutral

Favorite item: A piece of paper with his 'number' on it, reminds him he started from the bottom.
 

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