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character name
#chupacabra #marlon teixeira #tba
โ™งcode by dirtโ™ง
 
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โ€” DOSSIER.
Name: Callum Beckett
Nicknames: Cal, Beck
age: 27ish ?
Gender: Male
Sexuality: bi-sexual / bi-romantic
Date of birth: unknown
Place of birth: unknown
Race: gnome/human hybrid

โ€” VISAGE.
Hair: brown, side part with a taper fade, typically disheveled or under a hat
Eyes: golden / honey brown
Skin: light, sun-kissed
Height: 5โ€™11โ€
Weight: ~170
distinguishing features: left cheek dimple nearly hidden in a scruffy beard, doe-eyed, lightly freckled cheeks
Wardrobe: comfortable, earth tones - jeans, flannels, loosely fitted t-shirts
Face Claim: Jensen Ackles

โ€” PERSONA.
Personality: Callum is friendly, and mostly easy-going. Though he typically stays to himself out of habit, not preference, he can also become the life of the party if provided with the right time and place. He is a lover of adventure, animals, and items he deems valuable beyond a price point. (There are many items he deems valuable beyond a price point.) Cal has a debilitating sense of direction, and almost never knows where he is in relation to common landmarks. He quickly becomes hangry, and in turn wants to make sure those around him are well-fed too.

Cal allows his conscience to direct him, with little regard to what others expect of him. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of the society in which he lives. This moral compass in turn causes him to believe that those who seek to rule others are corrupt by nature, and he holds no qualms in undermining the authority figures of whom he deems unjust.

Remaining loyal in the face of adversity is one of Calโ€™s strongest traits, as he would readily give his life in the defense of another. He is supportive of those he loves and holds dear, even if his support may cause himself some discomfort. Though he has many invaluable items heโ€™s collected over time, his most treasured possessions are the relationships heโ€™s formed with those closest to him.

Alignment: chaotic good
Positive traits (4+): generous, loyal, charming, contented, honest
Negative traits (4+): tactless, impulsive, headstrong, forgetful
Likes (4+): baked desserts, rainy/snowy sundays, christmas lights, collecting
Dislikes (4+): packaging peanuts, spiders, complaining, being late
Fears: spiders, burnt food, organized religion
Ailments: n/a (for now)

โ€” SPECIES.
Species: Gnome/Human hybrid
Relevant information: raised by humans, only just became aware that non-human beings exist and is finding his way amongst them in Lazaruth
Powers: escape artistry, supernatural strength, night vision, illusion awareness
Extra: oblivious to his own powers, in search of someone who can help him learn about himself and possibly find his father

โ€” HISTORY.
Background: Callum had a relatively normal upbringing, raised by humans. His adoptive parents, gardeners with a large plot of woodland behind their house, were planting their yearly vegetable crops when they noticed an abnormal amount of rustling in the foliage just beyond their property line. A bunny or a raccoon, theyโ€™d thought, until they heard what sounded like a child giggling. The humans looked at each other inquisitively before deciding to take a look around in case of trouble. Carefully weeding their way through the long vines, wildflowers, and muddy terrain of the forest, theyโ€™d almost given up their search, writing it off as the wind, or a bird - until another distinct laugh filled the air to their left. Their heads swiveled with a quickness, believing a child must have wandered off on their own, they ran toward the sound. In a small clearing, lit with the glow of golden rays of sunlight through the towering trees above and surrounded by beautiful trilliums, violets, lilies, and bluebells, sat a boy, no older than a year, playfully batting at two butterflies fluttering near his red-hatted head. Another soft coo, followed by a giggle, rang out and the gardeners quickly stepped closer to scoop the child into their arms, looking around them for any sign of the parents. With no sign of any other human life in their immediate surroundings, they began their door to door trek to their neighbors in hopes of reuniting the boy with his family. Unfortunately no one recognized him, and their local and state police departments had not received any Amber alerts or calls of missing children, so they began the long adoption process as their hearts grew more and more fond of the honey eyed boy.

Calโ€™s childhood was as typical as the other suburbanites heโ€™d grown up with. He had a few good friends his parents would often find playing pretend in the ever-thriving forest behind their white picket fenced home. His father and mother figures, Charlie and Julia, would laugh at the wild stories heโ€™d come home with; tales of gnomes, fairies, and goblins filled the air around their dinner table each night. They didnโ€™t realize just how truthful their boy was being about the strange little creatures that lived in the forest, thus writing it off as simply a wondrous imagination. As he grew older, Cal built a sort of resentment toward his adoptive family and the friends heโ€™d used to have. He didnโ€™t understand why theyโ€™d stopped believing in the gnomes and fairies, as if becoming a teenager meant he was automatically lying. And so, in his later teen years he continued his treks into the woods with the new, more outcasted, friends heโ€™d made who would fuel his stories with the help of marijuana, alcohol, and sometimes even magic mushrooms if theyโ€™d gotten lucky. He didnโ€™t mind that they used his tales as entertainment though, at least they still listened. Though the stories he once knew to be real, he began to question - committing them to memory as just his imagination, as his parents had dictated to him many times.

He followed that group of friends to college, understanding they may not have been the best crowd to surround himself with once the heavy drug use started. He did his best to separate himself from the more hardcore substances, though he did indulge in the occasional psychedelic. What started as an experiment to simply see if he could, quickly became an entire grow operation practically in his parents backyard. Heโ€™d built a small tree house for himself in the biggest tree he could find, overlooking the small clearing his parents had explained he was found in. In that small clearing, heโ€™d taken notice of the overwhelming plant life that continued to flourish as opposed to the surrounding areas and wondered if growing his own supply of magic mushrooms was possible, so he began. The mushrooms thrived in the small patch of what must have been nutrient rich soil, earning him a killing amongst the local burnouts. So much so, heโ€™d had a plethora of them packaged, frozen and awaiting sale - and on the eve of his adoption day anniversary, heโ€™d decided a trip on his own supply was in order. He packed himself up into his treehouse, with snacks, a sleeping bag, and stringed lights aglow, alone and ready for the introspective trip of a lifetime. The experience began as any other heโ€™d had, colors and patterns appearing within the seemingly breathing wooden panels surrounding him. Cal closed his eyes, focused on his breath as he knew the fun was just beginning, he could nearly feel the oxygen spreading through his bloodstream. Then began the spiral.

His eyes opened after some time, the colors and movement increased in intensity and he could have sworn he saw the little creatures of his childhood scurrying along the windowsill cut out. Chuckling to himself, he wiped his eyes, knowing his high had begun to peak. โ€œKnew you were real.โ€ He said aloud to the make-believe beings that had moved themselves from the window to the shadowy corner across the room, mostly as a joke to his child self. A small voice sounded, โ€œYou can see me again?!โ€

Cal shot up from his sleeping bag, hastily backing himself to the opposite side of the treehouse with heavy breaths. He took a moment to compose himself, almost forgetting the mind-altering substance heโ€™d ingested until the vivid rainbows and wavy designs made themselves more pronounced once again. Letting out a shaky breath, he rubbed his hands through his hair attempting to rationalize with himself, โ€œThis is some good shit.โ€ He steadied to his feet, making way to the dark corner to convince himself there wasnโ€™t actually anything there. Pulling a strand of lights out of their staples, he balled them up in his hand and quickly shoved them in the direction of the shadowy corner only to be greeted with the authentication that he was not, in fact, imagining things. There a small man stood, clad with foliage as clothing and a fresh flower as a hat, triumph on his face as he realized Callum could see him. The tiny humanoid spoke, inducing a fainting spell into Cal that would last until the next morning.

โ€œHello again, son.โ€



Relationships (family, friends, dating, etc): long lost father somewhere, the rest are open for plotting!
Extra: Cal awoke the next morning from his psychedelic trip to find a small piece of wood scribbled with a note, from what heโ€™d assumed to have been left from the small human who called himself his father. The only thing written was โ€œyour journey begins hereโ€ followed by some coordinates, of which he followed, finding himself in Lazarus City and beginning a new life amongst supernatural beings he wasnโ€™t aware existed, including himself.







the best part about getting lost is finding yourself



Cal









โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก
 
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basics



appearance



psyche



background



gallery











  • basics









    the banshee































    Paint it, black



    Ciara






















    true name



    Unknown ( With power comes control, to avoid, Fiadh rarely gives it away. )










    chosen name



    Fiadh ( pronounced: fee-ah )










    nicknames



    Fee ( or rather, 'Fie-fih-foh-fum' as titled by the children she used to govern. )










    age



    Unknown ( Appears to be in her mid-late twenties )










    place of birth



    Ireland ( Fiadh doesn't have a place of belonging and is drawn to places of imminent and violent deaths. )










    date of birth



    Remembering birth isn't in the cards. But, she celebrated it once on the summer's solstice.










    species



    Celtic Fae ( specifically, a banshee, the link between 'this' world and the 'other' world )























โ™กdesign by natasha., coded by uxieโ™ก
 
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filler! ignore


filler! ignore


filler! ignore


filler! ignore


filler! ignore















  • nisha rani



    nisha rani














    nagini.








    โ

    โž





โ™กdesign by low fidelity, coded by uxieโ™ก
 
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  • 04
    03
    02
    general
    siren
    full name
    calypso.
    age
    unknown, appears to be in early 20s.
    gender
    female
    sexuality
    bisexual
    date of birth
    unknown.
    place of birth
    unknown.
    she who conceals - calypso
    ethnicity.
    Appears to be white.

    occupation.
    Stripper.

    known languages.
    Calypso is able to speak English, French, Italian, Danish, German, and likely countless other languages. how she obtains these languages is unknown at the moment, even to her.

    fc.
    Megan Fox.
left
 
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Aleksander MacGowan
















# dullahan




# thomas doherty










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก



 
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  • Niamh






    Tuatha Dรฉ Danann




























    the willow maid






    erutan























































    name


    niamh. (neev/eve)






    age


    tbd.





    species


    celtic fae.





    gender


    female.






    p.o.b.


    ulaidh, ireland.






    d.o.b.


    tbd.





































































nine lives

 
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  • H
    I
    R
    O

    Y
    O
    S
    H
    I
    D
    A










    โ
    Laughter is like a windshield wiper. It doesn't stop the rain but allows us to keep going.


    โž
    โ€” auliq
    ice​

    ​

    ​









    FC: Takuya Kimura
















    click





coded by xayah.
 
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The Loveless















scroll

Jin Ahn







ใ…Žใ…Ž














01.

Name




Jin Ahn








02.

Age




199 years old, appears to be in his late twenties








03.

sexuality




Pansexual Demiromantic








04.

D.O.B




December 18th, 1822








05.

P.O.B




Gwacheon-si, South Korea









06.

P.O.B




East asian






































  • Heartbroken



    You're coming back and it's the end of the world













โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก
 
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Content Warning: Parental Neglect, Body Horror: Insects+Arthropods+Arachnids
  • ???
    work in progress




    01
    name
    William Toussaint
    02
    nickname
    Guillaume (mother; birth name)
    03
    age
    fourty-three
    04
    date of birth
    November 11th
    05
    gender
    cis male
    he/him
    06
    sexuality
    panromantic homosexual
    07
    occupation
    Grenoble, France
    08
    ethnicity
    french
left
right
coded by natasha.
 
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submitting without the cool formatting lets g o
Sebastian Aro Nieto Delcro
" Lambs don't get lost, they regret. "
<> ,---, <>
SIMPLISTIC
Full Name: Sebastian Aro Nieto Delcro
Nicknames What you WILL call me: Sebastian, Bull-Head, S.A.N.D
Age: The chances of you finding my age has the same number of digits.
Appearance of Age: Early 30's, if you ignore the scars
Gender / Sexuality: I will be perceived in a Masculine way.
Date of birth: Let's say, April 3rd.

<> ,---, <>
VISUAL STIMULI
Hair: Despite a young complexion, for a demon at least, he sprouts an untamed crown of grey, almost white hair. A sharp contrast from the rest of his body, it wasnโ€™t always white. His natural-born hair was such a deep brown it was almost black. After the possessions started, though...
Eyes: Have you ever ripped open a fleshly rib cage, and stared within, at the swirls of red and pink? Stare into his eyes, and youโ€™ll experience a similar feat. Deep, coursing red, sometimes fading to stained pink during moments of anguish. Practically never blinks either, once they lay upon your figure they wonโ€™t look away.
Skin: Like a long lost treat you threw under the counter, it resembles a dusted caramel, long faded thanks to time and erosion. But instead of mold, his body adorns scars of past encounters with unsavory folk. Scars that reach from one wrist to his shoulder, from foot to upper back. Like the sky had finally fallen, his body tells a story his mouth is reluctant to retell.
Heightt: Can you reach 6ft in the air? He can.
Weight: Do you truly think you can weigh a demon? If you really tried, all you would find is 133 lbs.
Distinguishing Features: Underneath the attempts at hiding his physical appearance lay a vast array of wounds and words, all engraved into his very flesh. Some are written with ink, others are carved as a shallow chasm through his very skin. Some are etched down to bone, like a red waterfall. Despite these lacerations, he ignores them in his movements, and disregards the pain he is steeped in. But like internal bleeding, it will eventually seep to the surface.
Wardrobe: Interesting is not a term known by him, especially in regards to his clothes. When out of the light and fierce winds of the outer world, he sports just a red-stained white T and faded grey cargo shorts, the pockets of which filled with junk and debris at any given time. Inside a homestead, he never covers his feet, but if required, he will adorn a pair of black sandals that have been snapped in half just as much as they are covered in tape and nails to fix. When the darkness finally falls, he will emerge in a thick however moth-eaten dulled blue turtle neck with an accompanying yellow and black raincoat. Even in the mids of a drought, he will never leave behind the coat, for if a passing witch wishes to downpour on his residence, well, he'll be prepared now won't he? He also travels in the outside with heavy, partially torn open black boots. The soles of these will leave a special mark in murk or sand, for he himself engraved his own mark into them. The untrained eyes would never notice, however. Some sparse pieces of jewelry are also in his collection, but he only adorns them when he is wracked with paranoia.
tumblr_oulylp1ddu1wvp85ko1_1280.jpg


<> ,---, <>
MIND AND SOUL
Personality: A punch to the face after dead silence, just staring down a deep hole covered in sigils and runes of a long lost language.
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Positive traits: Stubbornly Loyal, Truthful, Direct, Problem-Solving, Sharp Whitts
Negative traits: Paranoid, Snappy, Short Fuse, Somewhat Anti-Social
Likes: Silence, Dissection, Magic Crafting, Spell Writing, Reading, Sitting in absolute silence as the walls slowly eat him alive
Dislikes: Any liquid matter, Music, Banishing spells and wards,
Fears: Returning to the Underworld, Being Caught by his demons, Someone finding his basement

<> ,---, <>
HORROR
Species: Catholic-centered Demon
Relevant Information: Resides in a humans body he possessed a long, long time ago. The physical attributes, voice, and so on are not of his direct own but him projecting his sentience through the body. He resides, and hides, inside of it at all times, and avoids anything that could sever his control and ties to the body. Whoever used to own it has long since been devoured.
Powers: For a Demon, Possession often comes naturally. For him, it is something he is far too done with doing. He has taken residence in one last body and plans to live out whatever existence means inside of it, even if that means giving up the twists and turns other demons own. To witness a possession on his side would be witnessing ego death. As one could describe it, A Taste For The Occult is something he also possesses. Almost like how a human can comment on fresh baked bread down the street, he knows where magical live wires are, and the maws they're attached to. He can almost taste the magic floating around him at any given time, with painful accuracy.

<> ,---, <>
HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF
Background: It all started in a basement, in the shed outback. Just as quickly as someone can fuck around with chalked down sigils they found in books of distant memory, they can find out what it really means to bleed. From the floor boards, never cleaned, tiny legs scattered from the liquid that spread across the floor and up their legs. With a snap, he emerged out of the dozens of circles on the ground, but all they could see were a pair of red eyes, staring from the dark. They fucked around, and boy did they find out what a "Demon" was.

That was the earliest memory Sebastian ever bothered with. An accidental summoning sigil very well could've breathed his life into the world, but whoever, or whatever, was truly responsible for his annoying, beating heart, he didn't want to meet, never face. Nor did he face the path of mischief he blew into every household he found himself sneaking into. Normal people who'd never spoken a lick of the old tongues, coming face to face with a crown of skulls and a smile dripping their late loved ones blood. The nonsensical blabbering humans made when looking at him was enough fun to keep him going, but when he finally caught someone out at night, and took on their face instead of his, that is when it began.

Instead of tormenting every creature he laid eyes on, he simply took their life away from them, before their own eyes, their own hand and mouth moving without their consent. He would play through their lives like some board game, not caring as connections and structures fell one by one, thanks to the poisoned words he slipped into the air everytime someone greeted him. Soon enough, there was nothing the human could possibly give up, Sebastian had taken everything. As he laughed at the tormented soul, his own chaos finally caught up to him - someone finally banished him from that humans body. Some would call it exorcising a demon, he calls it scolding, red, hot chains through the chest.

Sebastian didn't need further convincing to leave that person, that street, that whole city. He fled from there as far as an ethereal being could. The severe pain he withheld after that exorcism may make one think he'd never try it again, but maybe fools lambs don't learn, and just go back to what they did in the past. The cycle repeated, faster and faster, till the most recent exorcism almost delivered him to the lord, same day shipping. With the damage he'd sustained, he feared another exorcism may leave him actually dead and banished back down to the underworld, if he even came from there. He vowed not to do the stupid shit that got him caught in the past, but he couldn't bare his own body no longer. the damage it sustained was too much for his liking. He needed a new body, one that would be the last.

He searched all forms of civilizations, big and small, spread and clustered, for something fitting his wishes. Human years passed before he found one that caught his eye, just roaming a worn away path, slouched and trembling. As he materialized before the human, no expression came to their face, nor their eyes. Even as they vanished under the same night they were walking under, there was nothing pushing against the demons will. There was nothing there anymore. Almost as quick as a drop of rain hit the ground, the human was gone, and only Sebastian remained.

At the time, he did not question the interaction that had just occurred. Instead, he continued on the path they were walking, and within the moon rising overhead, he arrived at Lazarus City for the first time.

Relationships: Everyone he's ever had a "connection" to is now lost to time. He now remains a lone, red shadow in the city.
Extra: why did this take so long it doesn't even have coding and I have no clue if the backstory is too long aaa
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