welcome to the otherside.
the otherside.
"How can you live, knowing you've been nothing but lied to?"
"The same way you live, knowing no one has ever loved you."
From the moment our eyes met, we knew. The moment, the truth was spoken and the magic was lifted. You knew you needed to leave.
But could I get you to come with me? Could I save you from the lies you were so wrapped up in?
I never doubted that you'd take my hand, and come with me.
I welcome you, to the Otherside.
tricksters, and foolsThe Otherside is a Mirror Realm to the Mortal Realm. The Otherside, operates nearly the same, but will less laws and rules, and are more careful, and its inhabinets are anything but mortals. Theyre creates that are though to be fictional, they're gods, shapeshifters, fae, magic users. But, when they stumble through the portal into the Mortal Realm, they lose their real form, and become something demonic. Some creatures can spell themselves to look normal, but that's from old magic, something that hasn't been practiced and taught in 5,000 years.
The Mortal Realm isn't aware of the Otherwise, and think its creatures are Demons. Demon Hunters are popular and many. They're ruthless, and cruel and kill anything or keep it as a pet. Welcome to The Otherside, where the creatures run wild, and mortals live in fear with weapons, trying to stop them.
out of worlds, character.Name: Rune Peterson
Apparent Age: 20
Birthdate: October 10
Gender: Male
Height: 5'5"
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Body Type: Soft-toned (where if he focused, he could have better defined muscles)
Attire: Whatever is clean and fits best, not really pickyRune is what some would call naturally quiet and soft-spoken. He's grown accustomed to the others talking louder, talking longer, and talking over him most of the time. The rest of the family are loud, brash, and like to have boasting, bragging rights, making almost everything a competition. Rune hates competitions, probably because he is always last at them. Seriously, the others have all these athletic abilities, and muscles, and stuff, while Rune... eh.
Rune gets bored when trying to follow his family's exercise routine, mainly because again, it is made into a competition. Who can do the most sit ups. Who can do the most pull ups. Who can run the fastest. Okay, Rune likes the running parts. It's about the only one he actually would enjoy, if they hadn't accused him of cheating the time he won. Rune had put his everything into a race, just to see what he could do. And he won, but they said he had to have cheated, cut the course, used a hidden bike or something to get ahead. Because Rune just couldn't have won the race all on his own. Whatever. He still runs, just in private.
If given a choice of how he'd like to spend his time, it would be definitely be in the woods. Rune enjoys nature, from watching birds, to learning about the plants. At least that's one thing his family encouraged him on, herbalism. Knowing what plants are poisonous, or edible, or could be broken down to make potions. His family is fond of coating their arrows and bullets in various remedies made from plants. Plus, it allows the rest of them to focus on what they like best, pretty much any weapon they can get their hands on.
Likes: Running, rain, wolves, forests, watching birds, herbalism
Dislikes: Competitions, guns, killing things without just causeRune knows he's adopted. As far as Rune was told, his birth family had been killed by savage animals, and he was given to the Peterson family to raise. Any questions about what his birth family was like had been answered with generic words; 'good', 'strong hunter family', 'greatly missed'. They never had any real weight, not in his mind. He wanted to know more. What did they like, dislike? How did his mother and father meet? What did they want for their son?
How could he make them proud?
The last he never asked out loud, but it ran through his head almost every day, and colored his actions more than he'd like to admit. Something inside him, call it a gut instinct, didn't think they killed without a good reason, a just reason. And only after all other avenues had been explored. Not like the Peterson family. They enjoy hunting, displaying their trophies throughout the home. As soon as he could walk, they have been trying to instill in Rune the same sense of gun-loving-kill-all-the-creatures enthusiasm his brothers and father had.
If he hadn't known he was adopted, Rune would have had some serious concerns about how vastly different he felt from the rest of the family. It was something his brothers brought up whenever there was a fight or argument. Phrases uttered a million times, and echoed in his head a million more. Words beat into him almost as painfully as their fists.
"You're not one of us."
"They just took you in because they felt sorry for you."
"You're not the same caliber, you'll never amount to anything. Just give up and play with your plants."
So Rune focused on learning all about the plants in their area, and out of their area. What could be eaten raw, or which ones needed to be cooked first. Plants that could heal, that could kill, and so much more. It became something Rune enjoyed as much as running in the woods when he could get away from his family. It made him almost invaluable for when any of the family needed something to coat their arrows in, or add to their bullets for an extra punch.
Maybe that's what changed their mind. They were going to take him on one of their hunts before he 'became a proper adult' at age 21. They even said they'd let Rune into the basement, where they kept their extra special trophies. He had never been allowed in the basement, wasn't given permission to even glance at these 'special creatures' they brought home in bags. If he did well on this hunt though, they'd let him in. Maybe he'd feel accepted then, part of a real family. Maybe. Rune wasn't completely convinced it was worth killing something, just because he could.
Lately, Rune's been having those dreams again. Dreams where he's a wolf, running through the forest faster than anything he's ever seen. He used to have them a lot as a kid, and again when he was going through puberty, but they've been gone for a while. Now, they're back. Truth be told, Rune really enjoys the dreams. He's never felt more free, and more alive. When he wakes up though, the crash to earth hurts tenfold, and the rest of day is spent with Rune feeling depressed, and wanting nothing more than to be left alone.Mother: Diana Peterson (formerly Allcott)
Father: Frank Peterson
Siblings: Richard Peterson (30), Harry Peterson (27), Tom Peterson (24), William Peterson (22)
Diana had been pregnant for a fifth time, but had miscarried shortly before the family went out on a hunting trip. When they brought back a one month old baby, she took to raising him as her own. The name 'Rune' had been embroidered into the blanket he was swaddled in, and Diana kept the unusual name. It might have been better if she had given the boy a more 'traditional' name. Rune might have felt more like one of the family then. Instead, the name was a reminder of how he wasn't a blood relative.
His brothers never really seemed to accept him, unless picking on the youngest was their way of showing how much they cared. With bruises, cuts, and sometimes a broken bone or two. Yeah, Rune didn't buy it either.
wynorxs, character.โ name;; cel'rim o'wyn.
โ nicknames;; cr, cel, ciel, crow.
โ real age;; 8,887
โ physical age;; 21
โ birthday;; june 6th
โ gender;; male
โ species;; avian shifter.
โ special feats;; cel'rim is capable of taking the full form of a crow, or even partial. typically he'll take the partial form. where he has a large set of feathered wings coming out of his back. the feathers are black but often gleam in shades of blues, greens, and purples when the light hits them. in this form, he'll also have random feathers about his body. often little patches of them on his jaw by his ears, the backs of his hands, the sides of his neck, shoulders, ankles, wrists, and sometimes up the sides of his calf. furthermore, cel'rim is naturally gifted in magic, a feat most tend to call innate spell casting. because of his nature his body, and blood pulse with magic energy which allows his to cast spells more easily than most. along with that, because of his age, he knows old magic better than new magic, and can cast is as if it was still being majorly practised and taught. because of this, cel'rim was met at a young age with a duty that he still does to this day. cel'rim is a messenger of gods and a traveller of the realms, because of that cel'rim has an easier time travelling between worlds, and on rare occasions can open portals to other realms himself, typically when gods influence his magic.โ height;; 6'4"
โ body type;; slim muscular, cel'rim looks like a twig, but he's actually not.
โ hair colour;; dark teal
โ eye colour;; light grey
โ skin tone;; pale
โ clothing style;; cel'rim dressed in a sort of messy grunge fashion, but sometimes also dresses rather proper and of the wrong time period, typically the 1800's, which he says was one of the best time periods to live in.โ overall persona;; cel'rim has always been a trickster. since he was young he learned simple illusion spells, along with how to control his avian side. he's always been hardworking, but someone who goofs off. as he grew up, he stays the same but started to focus more on being a trickster. cel'rim being an avian shifter, was often harassed and bullied, and often called everything he wasn't. being a crow wasn't easy, he was called harpy boy, and cheater. two things he wasn't. and after thousands of years, it drove him a little nuts. cel'rim developed minor anger issues, and a blood lust he refused to act on. because of that, cel'rim put 100% of himself into his work for the gods and playing tricks. he didn't want to hurt anyone, and he was scared at heart.
โ likes;; music, tricks & pranks, magic, flying, being alone, and causing trouble
โ dislikes;; harpies, murder, hunters, sleeping, being picked on, reading, silence.
โ hobbies;; relay flights against harpies, playing tricks, cooking.
โ talents;; spell casting, remembering old things.
โ habits;; picking his feathres prematurely, thoughts about murderโ family;; cel'rim has repressed all memories of his family. not because something bad happened to them, but because they left him. birds of a feature, didn't stick together. he does remember he had a mother, a father, and 3 younger sisters. he doesn't remember names, faces or ages.
โ background;; Cel'Rim is the eldest and only son of his family. He grew up in a loving home until he was about 700 years old. At that point, his parents took his sisters and left. Cel'Rim never noticed much wrong at home, everyone seemed happy, constant smiles and laughs for most of his memories. Sure, there were the bad times, the dark times, the times after classes, after hours of being harassed were too much for him, and he'd break something, cuss someone out, and that one time he nearly set the house on fire. But Cel'Rim swears that was an accident and he didn't think the stove flames could reach that high. Maybe, he was troubled, on top of that and all the tricks and illusion spells. He still never felt like that was enough of a reason to leave him. He felt betrayed and worthless for the next 400 years, sitting in the old house, in the old rooms, watching things fall apart around him, as he still went about his duty with the gods. as he still paid for the bills and the house and went about his life. During that time he took lessons, on people and learned from those he was interacting with, and learned about himself. He didn't want to drive anyone else away. So he worked through his issues, and by the time he was turning 3,000. He felt better, he got out of his rut about his family and bettered himself. He spent more time than just the 400 years of mourning and self-hatred and spent an entire century to bettering himself. Cel'Rim returned to himself, or at least, as close to himself as the damaged version of him could be. He couldn't let go of his issues, and his damage, and the pain that was caused to him, because it was him. But he controlled his outburst, his anger. He stopped the urges, and only got them sometimes when something really bad happened. Ce'Rim was unstable in that sense since classes, but he didn't mind it.
Cel'Rim visits the mortal world, whenever there's an open portal because for him it's fun. He likes spelling himself to look like them to talk like them to be them. It's fun to act and pretend to play. The Mortals and the Otherside are like a funhouse of mirrors to him. Except, they're more fun, more brutal. There's blood and people and tears and laughter. The tricks and games make him smile. Even when hunters find him and try it with him. A snap of his fingers and he's released some of his locks, allowing him to unleash the urge for a moment, to just let it happened and let it take control. But he never lets himself do it. But, with that last encounter, he was glad he didn't get the chance to even touch his locks. Cel'Rim was too focused on another to even think about himself. It was funny, to see humans being so stupid.
