My name, is Kael Vanlichtentein.
I was born sixteen years ago...with a sister and another brother. My mom, Skyler, gave birth to us as if we were triplets, because, technically, we are. Each of us were born in different forms. My sister, was human. My brother, human as well, though with obvious canine attributes. I, was born as a wolf. Deemed to likely be a feral, mother and father were the only ones who helped me change. Staying in their own pure forms to coax the first shift.
It's been many years since then. I now know what I am. What I can do.
The moon is my only master, it holds my shifts in it's hands with a grip firmer than my own. It's been several weeks since an involuntary shift, and I've been dodging the full moon for months. With such modern marvels as planes, and cars, I have been sneaking away from the night when the full moon boasts it's curse.
I keep my whips on my person at all times, normally in a briefcase. It is the only way to prevent them from being spotted, as most people take heavily to their sadistic appearance. Studded and coiled with silver filaments, they are everything necessary to slaying my own race in the most painful manner.
"Murderers should be punished for the agony they cause not only to their victims, but to those whom live on."
It has been years since my father has made any contact...even longer since I've spoken with mother, but I will find him. He will pay, for ruining our lives.
Hm? Ah, hello. I, am Kyro.
Shrouded in mystery, the form of a cloak is what you find me wearing on most days. Steely boots, and traditional samurai pants line the covered flesh of my legs. A rapier hangs from my hip, made of an alloy containing many metallic properties, noteable metals in it's make are currently: Silver, and Umbranum, a metal which can only be harvested in the incorporeal plane, which gives the weapon the ability to hit even a ghost in it's incorporeal state.
I can fly, yes. It's not as fun as it seems, trust me. There are so many places one can fly in a state of undeath that bring even the tiniest iota of happiness. Oh? You caught that. Yes, I am dead. Yes, I am alive. That makes me one with the undead, a wraith of sorts, something like a friendly ghost. Keep your hands to yourself, and we will likely get along, let your fingers slip, and there's a chance you will join me in undeath.
My hair is long, somewhere near mid-back at this point. It's strands are beautiful in my eyes, a brilliant shade of silver, created from many a different streak of gray, chrome, silver and platinum. My flesh, a colorless shade of gray, is soft to the touch, but to call it cold would be an understatement. I have seen hypothermia creep up a man's arms before he could even finish his last breath. The unwanted touch can take a life in a matter of milliseconds, however, if allowed, a touch that is consented can be kept for nearly half a minute. Dreadful, isn't it? Only the most strange of creature have had the necessary protection to live after a touch.
I have been dead for a long time now. Though not as long as my counterpart, he has been undead for far too long, and personally, I believe he has lost 'it'. In any case, it has only been some odd hundred years since my death, not more than two hundred though, I'm sure of that. My life memories are blurry, like a dream, though, I'm rather sure they were just that, a dream.
Name: Mei Mie Mitorigi
Age: 17
Race: Fey (Blinkwing)
Powers: Shrinking, Teleportation, Flight.
Eye Color: Bright Yellow.
Skin: An exotic and creamy blue, which seems to get
darker with sunlight exposure, but
lighter with deprivation.
Natural Height: 3 inches 2 centimeters
Human Height: 5 feet 10 inches
Persona: Shy in most cases of tenderness and love, however, sex for his race and the ranks of most faeries is something natural, and thus, nothing to be shy about. He is often finicky, and timid, teleporting away from most unfavorable situations.
Character name Nikolie "Nikky" Mustakrakich
Age: 19
Alignment: Neutral Good
Bio After moving out, Nikolie lived a illegal life. Taking a turn for the drugs, and soon after: the raver scene. His mind half gone, and body kept so very beautiful, his days are spent ever so wonderfully. Enhancing each moment with thoughts of new things, or even things he'd done before. Lost, without a real sense of what to do with himself, he parties his life away, intent on having as much fun as he can before that tragic day should come, and he won't be allowed another breath. Social, he finds himself often either wishing to be with friends, or being with them, finding that no matter what, they always manage to keep his spirits high, and he can't be so down when surrounded in loving peers.
Personality A Social Butterfly, however quiet he may be, and almost exclusivly laid back. Though having his own little bits of philosophical and deep lifestyle, he chooses not to dwell on the big picture, for it's a spooky one indeed. Instead, he keeps a smile on, and with a bit of contagious happiness, helps others do the same.
Appearance Hair of a ashen grey, hangs to his shoulders in the back, at it's longest layer, and only to his noses tip, in the front's longest layer. Though many layered, and quite straight, it always seems to kinda flip out and away from his cheeks, his forehead, standing out a bit, almost as if styled. Eyes each, bare different shades of color, one, the left, is a beautiful sea-green, around the edge, though starts off as more a sage. While the right, starts off in the shade of a dark, dark blue, almost black, before bursting into a rather light, baby blue. Finally, the male's flesh, is a pale white, not pastey, but a creme, soft, and easy to catch oneself staring at, though he'd find it to be something blush-worthy. Upon his neck, there is a small necklace, or a chocker, rather, clinging to his form with a small, crimson cross, created of a hard, though flattened steel. It's chain, is a simple black, as are the very ends of it's arms, though they do more fade to black, than simply become so. A White sweatshirt, with special little spots of color, which only appear in blacklight, and it's cut-off arms, to make it appear like a T-shirt. Soft to the touch, with a pair of black, thin lines that run from collar, to sleeve-hem. Black stitching, and a gray zipper, though usually kept only zipped up to the belly-button, to keep cool, are the only constantly-visible color variations. A pair of stretchy, light gray gloves, adorn each hand, cut at the knuckles, and letting the back of his hands peek through a neat little circle, they ride about to the place where a loose-wrist watch would fall, before growing loose themselve, and becomming lost in hem. Upon his hips, a pair of acid-green, and black pantaloons, brand-spankin'-new, they don't have a single rip upon their hems yet, and hang loose, nearly to the soles of his shoes. Mostly that vibrant green, though the lap has a pair of straps, sewed on, with the same acid-green, and colored in raven black. A pair of steel loops, hung from each strap, and allowed for various things to be clipped on, though normally, he had no clips to keep there. Cargo pockets on each outside calf, each with the top rectangular part of their tops being black, and stiched with green. Each of his feet adorn a pair of Converse Hightops, ChuckTaylor Allstars. Each one different, the left, is a standard, black and white, original flavored Chuck. However, the right, is a inverted colors 'custom made'. Where the one on the left is black, it is white, and where there is white, it is black. Even the star on the inside of it's ankle, is inverted, for added appeal.