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Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 12:31 AM


Zeraphia

Lightbringer
 
Posts: 66124
#3077591
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A college for demigods. What could possibly go wrong? Gangs, gangs could go wrong. Frats and "clubs" that have drawn lines in the sand so-to-speak. If you're part of that club, you couldn't talk to them. If you were a demigod of so'n'so absolutely not.

...

so what happens when a pair of demigods... accidentally... well... fall in love?

What sort of outrage might happen? Or will the gods themselves get involved?

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 10:17 AM


Zeraphia

Lightbringer
 
Posts: 66124
#3077610
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Full name:
Lucius Hayden Zeller

Age:
23

Gender
Male

Sexuality:
Demiromantic

Grade year:
Sophomore

Godly Parent:
Zephyrus

Magical power:
Oh you thought Lucius would gain some fun power from his heritage? Haha, lol. No, the only thing remotely magical about Lucius is the bright creamy-white wings that he can't hide no matter how hard he tries.

Appearance:
Standing at a solid 6'0" even (God genes do come in handy sometimes), Lucius tends to have a much more broad looking torso. His shoulders are wide and set in place. Of course that helps when one quite literally has to have broad shoulders to accommodate two extra appendages and all of the tendons, nerves, muscles, bones and the likes. He does, however, have a shorter torso because of that. However, his long legs make up plenty for the lack of torso. Legs for days, man. Legs for days.

That aside, Lucius sports soft blue eyes that remind him of the color of an aquamarine jewel with just a hint more blue to it than the usual stone would have. The soft blue color highlights, and compliments, the way his face is peppered with soft freckles. (As well as his neck, shoulders and back but who's looking?) Adding to the look, his hair is a warm golden blond color, the kind of color that really reminds one of the "amber waves of grain" that flow like the sea across most of the Midwest.

However, his school clothing is really lacking in color. He finds that he prefers the soft greys, subtle tones and the saddle-back shoes to compliment the whole look. All in all, he really doesn't want to stand out.

That's nye impossible of course with the large set of wings that he sports along his back. With creamy white feathers that collect his look in a sort of angelic-like manner, Lucius tends to stick out like a sore thumb. Which probably doesn't help at all considering his personality.

Personality:
If you expected Lucius to be some sort of gentle, calm, quiet individual, you're in for a wild awakening. Not really rude, per se, but definitely wild. The child of a god... and his mother. His mother was... rather eccentric. His mother had some wild opinions. Settling in to a mix of the hippie movement that swept across a large part of the world and some strange free-range parenting sort of vibe, Lucius didn't exactly have any strict guidance. His self-preservation is close to none. It's a miracle he's managed to survive this long without any major injuries.

His bright flashing smile, cunning grins and easy-going personality tend to draw him to strange people, odd situations and the fact that he can simply pretend that you're a friend even if he's just barely gotten your name.

He really doesn't see a problem with how he is, after all, that's how he's supposed to be! Elvis, The Beach Boys, the Beatles, everybody is loose, fun, carefree and having fun, right?

The concept of 'no, Lucius, you're supposed to be more mindful and quiet' is long gone. But, that being said, he does have a fierce loyalty to any and all he calls friends. Which... is often where he gets in the most trouble.

For whatever reason, his mother didn't approve of swearing. Rather than fight her on it, he's come to the ability to create odd comments, insults and the likes without swearing once. This ability likely wouldn't have happened if she wasn't so strict but hey, what's done is done, amiright?

However, Lucius refuses to be the center of attention. He will, can and has, shoved it onto someone else. Always bringing others to the limelight, but hanging in the wings himself. (Lol get it?)

He does get flustered and embarrassed rather easily, though. With a pale face, who can say no to that rose red blush that just creeps up over his cheeks, his nose and into his ears.

Background:
Lucius is in the college to get a degree in... history. He loves history, absolutely adores learning about history, about what it was like to live back in the days. Something about research is fun and he wouldn't mind being a teacher later on. Y'know... for the demigods.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 11:20 AM


Lackadaisy

Neutral
 
Posts: 143
#3077615
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Asrifeon Bære Åseson

"I don't cause chaos for the sake of destruction - well, mostly - but because it's the only way to feel truly alive. You wouldn't understand, would you? Being stuck in the mundane... it's suffocating."
~
Nicknames
-
Asrif, As, Feo, [OPEN]
-
Name Pronunciation
-
AZ-ri- FAYE-on , BAH-reh , OH-seh-sohn
-
Name Meaning
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Asrifeon ; Unknown Origin , "Angel", "Seraphim"
Bære ; Norse , "Bear"
Åse ; Norse , "Ridge"
Åseson ; Norse , "Son of Åse"
-
Age
-
23
-
Gender
-
Demiboy, Genderfluid (Depending on the form they take)
-
Pronouns
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He/Him/They/Them
-
Sexuality
-
He's unsure what, exactly, but knows he's Androphilic.
-
Grade Year
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Junior
-
Godly Parent
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Loki
[This making Feo half demigod, and not half god]
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Moral Alignment
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Chaotic Neutral
-
Personality
-
Asrifeon is a force of chaos, much like his infamous father, Loki, reveling in unpredictability and thriving on mischief. They live for the thrill of throwing plans into disarray, causing mayhem with a devilish grin and a sharp, quick wit. The rush of a good fight—be it a battle of wits or a physical clash—lights a fire in him, and he never shies away from a challenge. Their love for chaos is palpable; they wear it like a second skin, their mismatched eyes gleaming whenever the world seems to tilt toward disorder.
But beneath this stormy exterior lies a softer, quieter side they guard fiercely, as though afraid the world might ruin it if it were to see. Asrifeon has an unexpected reverence for nature. Despite his love for noise and action, he often finds solace in places untouched by chaos. Meadows bathed in sunlight, where the wind carries the sweet scent of wildflowers, draw him in like a moth to a flame. He’ll sit for hours in the tall grass, letting the warmth of the sun soak into his skin, their usually restless mind at peace. Forests, too, are their refuge—calm and quiet, with only the whisper of leaves in the breeze. The stillness of the trees, the soft crunch of moss underfoot, and the gentle rustle of unseen creatures soothe something deep within them, as though they’re reconnecting with a part of themselves that thrives on balance.
Asrifeon’s love for nature is as much about escape as it is about connection. The serenity of these places offers him a rare reprieve from the constant push and pull of his dual nature. In the silence of the woods or the golden glow of a meadow, they allow themselves to simply be, free from expectation or pretense. These moments of calm are a stark contrast to the chaos they so often seek, but they are no less a part of who he is.
He also has a special fondness for snakes, finding them utterly fascinating and adorable in a way that surprises even him. Their quiet, graceful movements, the sheen of their scales in the sunlight, and their unblinking, knowing eyes captivate him. They’ve been known to speak to them softly, almost reverently, as though they are kindred spirits—misunderstood creatures existing on the edge of human perception. A small, serpent-shaped charm rests hidden among their trinkets, a silent testament to his affection for them.
This love of nature, like his adoration of snakes, is something Asrifeon keeps hidden, wrapped in the same layers of secrecy that protect his most vulnerable emotions. For all their love of chaos and mischief, they treasure these quiet moments more than they would ever admit. They are his anchor, his reminder that even in the wildest storms, there is beauty in stillness—and even a trickster needs a place to rest.
-
Type of Neurodiversity
-
Asrifeon’s unique blend of divine chaos and mortal vulnerability could manifest as traits associated with neurodiversity, making him a deeply layered and relatable character. Here’s how his neurodiversity might present:
ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder):
Asrifeon’s boundless energy and love for mischief could stem from traits commonly associated with ADHD. He thrives in chaos, finds excitement in constant activity, and struggles to sit still when things are calm—except in those rare moments when nature’s stillness captures his attention. His mind is constantly racing with ideas, which makes him a brilliant strategist and quick thinker, but it also means he can sometimes lose track of details or jump from one thing to the next without finishing. When hyperfocused, though—whether on a fight, a prank, or quietly observing a snake in a meadow—he’s unstoppable, deeply absorbed in the moment.
Autism Spectrum Traits:
Asrifeon’s deep connection to snakes and nature might reflect an intense special interest, a hallmark of autism. He sees beauty and grace in things others might overlook, like the quiet movement of snakes or the stillness of a forest. These interests bring him immense joy and comfort, acting as an anchor in his chaotic world. Socially, he might struggle to navigate the complexities of relationships, sometimes leaning on his mischief as a way to mask vulnerability or avoid deeper emotional connections. At the same time, his loyalty to those he cares about is fierce and unwavering, even if he struggles to express it in traditional ways.
Sensory Processing Sensitivity:
Asrifeon might experience heightened sensitivity to sensory input, both as a gift and a challenge. He might find bright lights, loud noises, or chaotic crowds overwhelming, even as he creates chaos himself. His love of quiet meadows and forests could be a way to regulate this sensitivity, providing him with the calm and grounding he needs to recharge. On the flip side, he might also experience joy more intensely, finding euphoria in the shimmer of sunlight on his hair or the feel of moss under his fingers.
Oppositional Defiant Traits:
His love for challenging authority and breaking rules could reflect a natural opposition to being controlled, a hallmark of his divine trickster heritage. While this might occasionally get him into trouble, it also makes him fiercely independent and deeply empathetic to those who feel stifled by societal expectations. His defiance is not born from malice but from a deep-seated need to question the world and carve his own path.
Emotional Intensity and Dysregulation:
Asrifeon’s emotions might run deep and powerful, swinging between extremes. When he’s happy, the world feels alive with possibilities; when he’s angry or hurt, it’s as though the very air around him ripples with his frustration. His tendency to mask these emotions with mischief and charm might sometimes backfire, leaving him feeling isolated or misunderstood. His love of nature and quiet, stable environments could be his way of finding balance in a world that often feels too overwhelming.
Hyper-Empathy and Complex Emotional Processing:
While he might present as a carefree chaos-lover, Asrifeon likely has a strong sense of empathy, especially for creatures like snakes or people who are misunderstood. This empathy might not always come out in expected ways; instead of comforting words, he might offer a distraction, a prank, or even a fight to help someone feel alive again. His understanding of emotions, both his own and others’, could make him an unexpectedly profound confidant for those who get past his chaotic exterior.
By embracing these traits, Asrifeon becomes not just a larger-than-life demigod but also a deeply human character with strengths and vulnerabilities that make him compelling and relatable. His neurodiversity adds complexity to his personality, shaping how he navigates both the mortal and divine worlds.
-
Appearance
-
Asrifeon is a mesmerizing blend of divine chaos and mortal fragility, his appearance a perfect manifestation of the liminal space he inhabits. Their most striking feature is their eyes—one a piercing, icy blue that seems to hold the stillness of glaciers, the other a vivid emerald green that shimmers like sunlight through dense forest leaves. These mismatched eyes are alive with mischief and wisdom far beyond their years, flickering subtly as if they harbor secrets of realms unseen. His gaze is disarming, playful yet unnerving, as though he can see straight through the layers of reality and into a person's soul.
Their hair, untamed and wild, cascades in soft waves that shift in hue between shadowy black and a subtle green sheen, reminiscent of verdant moss caught in moonlight. It flows like liquid silk yet seems to move with a will of its own, almost alive, hinting at the shapeshifting chaos that lies at their core. Streaks of pale silver thread through his locks, adding an ethereal quality that speaks to his divine heritage. The way their hair catches the light, changing in intensity with their mood, is hypnotic, as if their essence refuses to settle into a single form.
Asrifeon’s face is a study in contrasts, their androgynous beauty both delicate and sharp. Their soft jawline balances high, angular cheekbones, and their skin carries a faint, otherworldly iridescence that catches the light at unexpected angles. Scattered freckles adorn his nose and cheeks, each one glowing faintly like tiny stars, a subtle reminder of the cosmic forces that shaped him. His smile, quick and fleeting, is as enigmatic as he is—both disarming and dangerous, a trickster’s grin that promises amusement but rarely reveals its true intent.
Their arms and shoulders bear intricate tattoos that appear as static designs at first glance, but on closer inspection, they writhe and shift, alive with chaotic energy. These markings resemble ancient Norse runes and serpentine patterns, constantly rearranging themselves in mesmerizing loops and twists. When Asrifeon channels his shapeshifting abilities, the tattoos seem to flow with his transformations, glowing faintly as if in harmony with his power. This innate connection to change and fluidity defines their very essence, as they shift effortlessly between forms, embodying Loki’s legacy as a master of transformation.
Clothing, too, reflects their dual nature. Asrifeon wears a tunic-like garment that blends the aesthetics of ancient Norse tradition with modern sensibilities. One half of the tunic is deep emerald, intricately embroidered with gold threads that form delicate, vine-like patterns, symbolizing their human heritage and connection to the natural world. The other half is crafted from a void-black fabric that shimmers like smoke under moonlight, edged with faint silver patterns reminiscent of frost. This duality captures their in-between existence, neither fully mortal nor entirely divine, but something uniquely their own. A braided belt of leather and enchanted ribbon cinches their outfit, adorned with small charms and trinkets they’ve collected, each imbued with a story or memory.
An otherworldly aura clings to Asrifeon, their presence impossible to ignore. When calm, their aura is cool and serene, like the stillness of a misty forest at dawn. In moments of heightened emotion, however, it shifts dramatically, warping and distorting the air around him as his shapeshifting nature asserts itself. His form flickers at the edges, becoming fluid and indistinct, a visual reminder of his connection to chaos and transformation. This ability to adapt and change at will makes him an enigma, both powerful and unpredictable, his very existence defying definition.
They wear two items that anchor their identity: a silver pendant shaped like a coiled serpent, gifted by Loki, and a pair of mismatched gloves. The pendant serves as both a protective charm and a symbol of their divine lineage, pulsing faintly with energy when they invoke their powers. The gloves, one crafted from supple leather and the other from an unearthly material that shifts like shadow, enhance their shapeshifting abilities, allowing them to mold their form with precision and grace. These relics are as much a part of them as their ever-shifting tattoos, reflecting their role as a child of the trickster god.
Asrifeon moves with an otherworldly grace, their steps so light they seem to barely disturb the ground beneath them. He exudes a magnetic energy, equal parts enchanting and unsettling, as though he might simply step out of reality and into another realm at any moment. To behold Asrifeon is to witness the perfect harmony of chaos and order, mortal and divine—a being who exists not in spite of their contradictions, but because of them.
-
Voice & Accent
-
Asrifeon's voice would be unique and captivating, carrying an air of mischief and charm with an undertone of calm confidence. A perfect voice claim for him might be someone like Tom Hiddleston, but with a softer, slightly younger edge. His tone would be smooth, articulate, and slightly melodic, with a playful lilt that makes it hard to tell whether he’s joking or being serious.
His voice might shift depending on his mood or intent. When he’s causing trouble or engaging in witty banter, it’s quick, sharp, and teasing, with an almost sing-song quality. In quieter moments—like when he’s sitting in a meadow or talking to a snake—it would be lower, softer, and more introspective, like a gentle breeze rustling through the trees.
Perhaps Ben Whishaw would also fit, especially for the calm and introspective side of Asrifeon. His voice would carry that same ethereal, almost otherworldly quality, effortlessly blending warmth and mystery.
-
Type of Supernatural / Abilities
-
As a "demi-demigod", Asrifeon’s shapeshifting abilities are a direct reflection of his divine heritage, but they’re far less powerful and more unstable than those of his father, Loki. His shapeshifting is tied to the chaotic essence that runs through his veins, but the scope of what he can change is limited by his mortal side and the lack of complete control over his abilities.
Asrifeon’s shapeshifting allows him to alter his physical appearance, though he can’t fully morph into other beings or gods like Loki can. He has the ability to change aspects of his body—his size, hair, facial features, and skin tone—though these changes are often imperfect and temporary. He can transform into someone else entirely for short periods of time, but these transformations usually require a great deal of concentration and leave him exhausted afterward. His forms tend to be more fluid and less structured than Loki’s, often flickering between appearances before settling into something more stable. This means his ability to disguise himself isn't foolproof, and those who pay close attention might notice subtle shifts in his features.
Though Asrifeon can transform into animals, his shapeshifting in this regard is less sophisticated. While he can take the form of snakes, wolves, or birds—creatures he feels an affinity with—his transformations tend to be more instinctual than intentional. When he shifts into a snake, for example, his form isn’t as sleek or graceful as it would be if Loki performed the same change. He might be larger than expected, with some parts of his body still resembling his humanoid shape, or the transition might take longer than he intends, leaving him in an awkward half-shift for a while. Asrifeon’s shapeshifting into animals is often a reflection of his emotional state—he might turn into a snake when he's feeling particularly unsettled or confused, or shift into a large, imposing wolf when he's angry or feeling protective.
Unlike Loki, who has supreme control over his shapeshifting, Asrifeon’s abilities are tied to his emotional state. His transformations are often linked to his inner turmoil, with his form sometimes flickering or shifting involuntarily when he's overwhelmed by emotion. When he’s angry, for example, his form might grow in size, his skin taking on an almost reptilian quality, while his mismatched eyes glow brighter. When he’s scared or anxious, he might shrink or distort, his features becoming almost ethereal or intangible. The more extreme his emotions, the more difficult it becomes for him to maintain a stable form, and it’s not uncommon for his appearance to become an ever-shifting blur when he's in the midst of a crisis.
While Loki can hold his transformations indefinitely, Asrifeon’s shifts are fleeting, often lasting only a few minutes at most. He can manage longer shifts with intense focus and energy, but these can drain him quickly, leaving him weak or disoriented afterward. His shapeshifting is also much harder to maintain during periods of stress or exhaustion. This limitation forces Asrifeon to rely on quick changes and improvisation, using his powers for short bursts of trickery or escape rather than long-term deception or battle.
Asrifeon’s shapeshifting powers are inherently flawed. While Loki can transform into any form with perfect precision, Asrifeon’s attempts are often imperfect, humorous, or awkward. His transformations tend to be slightly out of proportion, with body parts that look a little too large or small, or his new form might look distorted. For example, when shifting into a human, he might inadvertently retain too much of his divine features—his green-sheened hair might flicker through, or his mismatched eyes could betray him. His shifts into animals can also result in comically oversized paws, wings that aren’t fully formed, or scales that appear in places they shouldn’t be. This imperfection makes his shapeshifting less reliable but no less dangerous or interesting.
On occasion, Asrifeon can use his shapeshifting to create illusions of himself, similar to Loki's powers of illusion. These projections are not true transformations but are instead tricks of the mind, manipulating how others perceive him. He can create multiple versions of himself, or disguise himself to look like someone else, though the illusion is less solid and convincing than Loki’s. This is one of Asrifeon’s more refined skills, as it requires less energy and focus than full transformations. However, it also doesn’t allow him to truly change his form, so if someone gets too close or looks too intently, they may notice the slight flicker of the illusion.
Despite his heritage, there are things Asrifeon simply cannot change. He can’t alter his divine aura or hide his heritage—his otherworldly energy still leaks out in subtle ways, making it clear that he’s not just an ordinary person. He can’t shift into completely new forms, like other gods or mythical creatures beyond animals, and he can’t transform into inanimate objects. His shapeshifting is far less versatile than Loki's, and its power wanes when he's under physical or emotional strain. If he’s injured or overly tired, his ability to shift becomes much weaker or impossible.
In short, Asrifeon’s shapeshifting is powerful but imperfect, unpredictable, and largely tied to his emotional state. It’s a skill he’s still learning to master, a gift that brings him closer to the chaotic nature of his father but remains grounded by his human side. While it allows him moments of escape and mischief, it also serves as a reminder of how far he still has to go to harness his full potential.
-
Strengths
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Chaotic Creativity and Strategy
As the child of Loki, Asrifeon is a master of creative thinking and improvisation. His ability to think quickly on his feet and come up with unpredictable solutions to problems makes him an exceptional strategist in situations that demand adaptability. He thrives in chaotic environments and can use disorder to his advantage, whether it’s in combat, negotiations, or pranks. His chaotic creativity allows him to see opportunities where others might see obstacles, and he’s not afraid to take risks to achieve his goals.
Shapeshifting Abilities
Despite the limitations of his shapeshifting, Asrifeon’s ability to change form is a unique strength. His capacity to alter his appearance, whether by taking on the form of animals or disguising himself as someone else, gives him the upper hand in many situations. He can use his powers for subterfuge, escape, or to gain the element of surprise in combat. While his transformations are not as polished as Loki's, they are still powerful tools for evasion and deception.
Emotional Resilience
Asrifeon’s emotional intensity, while sometimes a source of instability, also grants him a remarkable resilience. His ability to bounce back from emotional turmoil or failure and continue pushing forward speaks to his strength of will. Though he might be quick to anger or frustration, he doesn’t stay down for long. He uses his emotional highs to fuel his creativity and problem-solving abilities, and his lows, while difficult, give him moments of introspection and growth.
Empathy and Compassion
Despite his chaotic and trickster nature, Asrifeon has a surprising depth of empathy. He is able to understand the pain of others, particularly those who are misunderstood or marginalized, and will often go to great lengths to protect those he cares about—even if he expresses it in unconventional ways. His empathy extends to animals, especially snakes, and creatures that are often feared or reviled, showing a tenderness that contrasts sharply with his chaotic side. This ability to connect emotionally, even if he struggles with direct expressions of affection, makes him a loyal and protective ally.
Physical Agility and Combat Skills
Asrifeon inherits the enhanced physical capabilities of his divine parentage. He is agile, fast, and strong, capable of holding his own in combat. His reflexes are sharp, and he excels in both hand-to-hand combat and when using weapons. While not as naturally skilled as Loki, Asrifeon’s adaptability in the heat of battle makes him a dangerous opponent. His speed and flexibility allow him to dodge attacks and strike with precision, making him a skilled fighter even without formal training.
Intelligence and Wit
Asrifeon’s sharp intellect is one of his greatest strengths. He’s quick-witted, able to think on his feet and outsmart opponents, whether in a verbal sparring match or in a high-stakes game of strategy. His humor, though sometimes dark or biting, is also a tool he uses to disarm others and manipulate situations to his advantage. He can read people and situations with an uncanny accuracy, understanding motivations and intentions even when others fail to see them.
Connection to Nature
Despite his chaotic tendencies, Asrifeon has a deep connection to nature, especially in quiet and serene environments. This affinity with the natural world allows him to find peace and clarity when he needs it most. His love for meadows, forests, and animals gives him a sense of balance, helping him to recharge and refocus after chaotic or emotionally intense moments. In these peaceful environments, he feels grounded and connected to something larger than himself, which can provide him with the strength to face the storms of his life.
Loyalty and Protective Instincts
Though he can be unpredictable, Asrifeon is fiercely loyal to those he cares about. His protective instincts, especially toward those who have been hurt or oppressed, show a side of him that is more selfless than he often lets on. He will go to great lengths to shield his loved ones from harm, even if it means embracing his chaotic nature to throw off anyone who dares to threaten them.
Adaptability
One of Asrifeon’s strongest qualities is his adaptability. Whether it’s changing his appearance to blend in or adjusting his approach in battle, he can quickly read a situation and change tactics to suit the moment. This allows him to survive in environments that might overwhelm others and thrive in unpredictable situations where planning and control are often impossible.
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Weaknesses
-
Emotional Instability
Asrifeon’s emotions are often amplified and unpredictable. His emotional responses can be intense, and when he’s overwhelmed, they can cloud his judgment or cause his shapeshifting abilities to become erratic. While his emotional depth is also a source of strength, it can sometimes become a liability, especially when he’s unable to control his feelings. His moods can swing from elation to anger to deep sadness in the blink of an eye, making it difficult for those around him to anticipate how he’ll react in any given situation.
Lack of Control Over Shapeshifting
Though Asrifeon’s shapeshifting abilities are powerful, they are far from perfected. His transformations are often incomplete, and the more emotionally charged he is, the more difficult it becomes for him to control them. In times of stress or anger, his appearance may flicker between different forms, or he might unintentionally retain traits from his original shape, making his disguise less effective. This lack of control can make him vulnerable in situations where precision is necessary, and it can sometimes even lead to unintended consequences when he can’t hold his form long enough.
Impulsiveness
Asrifeon’s love for chaos and mischief often drives him to act on impulse rather than carefully consider the consequences of his actions. This impulsiveness can lead him into dangerous or reckless situations, as he sometimes prioritizes excitement over caution. He is easily bored and craves stimulation, which can result in him rushing into fights, making hasty decisions, or creating chaos just for the thrill of it. While this may serve him well in the short term, it can also backfire when he needs to exercise patience or strategize.
Fear of Vulnerability
Despite his strong exterior, Asrifeon has a deep-seated fear of vulnerability. He struggles with expressing his softer, more sensitive side, often retreating into his chaotic, unpredictable nature to avoid showing weakness. This can lead him to push others away or distance himself emotionally, especially when it comes to forming deep connections. His fear of vulnerability makes it difficult for him to open up to others, even when he cares for them, and it creates a barrier that prevents him from fully embracing the relationships that could bring him comfort and stability.
Overconfidence
Asrifeon’s mischievous nature and divine heritage can sometimes give him a sense of overconfidence. He may believe that his ability to outsmart others or manipulate situations will always work in his favor, which can lead to him underestimating his opponents or failing to anticipate the consequences of his actions. This overconfidence can make him reckless, as he believes he can always talk his way out of trouble or shift his way out of danger. However, this often puts him in situations where he’s unable to rely on his usual tricks, leaving him at a disadvantage.
Difficulty with Long-Term Planning
While Asrifeon excels at thinking on his feet and adapting to the moment, he struggles with long-term planning. His chaotic tendencies and preference for instant gratification often make it difficult for him to consider the future consequences of his actions. He is more focused on immediate excitement or success, often ignoring the bigger picture. This lack of foresight can lead to problems down the road, as his impulsive decisions might create lasting complications that he’s unprepared to handle.
Physical Vulnerability
Though Asrifeon possesses enhanced strength and agility due to his divine nature, he is still vulnerable to physical injury, especially when caught off guard or in situations where he cannot rely on his shapeshifting abilities. His mortal side means that, unlike full gods, he doesn't have the same durability or invincibility. If he's wounded or exhausted, his powers weaken, and his physical body is susceptible to the same limitations as any human. In prolonged battles or during intense physical strain, this vulnerability becomes more pronounced.
Lack of Emotional Support
Asrifeon often feels isolated between the worlds of mortals and gods. He is not fully accepted by either side, and this sense of displacement can lead to feelings of loneliness or alienation. His chaotic personality and fear of vulnerability prevent him from seeking the emotional support he might need, which can lead to moments of deep internal conflict. Without the guidance or understanding of others, he is left to navigate his complexities alone, which can sometimes spiral into self-doubt or frustration.
Difficulty with Authority
Asrifeon’s chaotic nature and disdain for rules make it difficult for him to respect authority. Whether it’s a higher power, a mentor, or someone trying to guide him, he resists being told what to do. His tendency to rebel against rules and expectations often leads to conflict with those who try to impose structure in his life. This resistance can hinder his personal growth, as he may miss out on valuable lessons or guidance because of his reluctance to follow instructions or accept help.
Inability to Fully Embrace His Duality
Asrifeon is torn between two identities: his human side, which seeks connection and stability, and his divine heritage, which craves chaos and freedom. This internal struggle often leaves him feeling fragmented or confused, unsure of where he truly belongs. His inability to fully embrace both aspects of himself causes a sense of dissonance that can prevent him from reaching his full potential. He’s caught between the desire to fit in with mortals and the pull of his chaotic, divine nature, which leaves him in constant conflict with himself.
-
Background
-
Why is he here?
He doesn't really know.
Loki was never keen on any of his children going to college. A gift here, a pat on the head there, but he was much to kept up with his own business that he could care less if some spawn of his got an education.
Unless it seemed like they might succeed him.
The god of mischief quickly realized that if he was going to have all the power he wanted, he couldn't take it on his own. He needed help. But his brother wouldn't help him - of course not, Thor was a stuck-up, chin-held high pure god. Neither would his father, even if he asked; "Hey, dad, want to help me usurp your own throne?". His mother was gone, and he'd existed long enough to know that he could trust no one else.
The only people he could trust were those of his own blood.
So he did the most reasonable thing a demigod would do.
He found a calm, kind Norse woman named Åse, forged a child with her, and then left her as soon as that child was born, taking the kid with him and wiping her memory.
Asrifeon spent the first sixteen years of his life in Asgard, guarded protectively by Loki as his sucessor. No one quite knew where he came from - only that Loki firmly established that Feo was his, and that no one else could have him.
Loki slowly taught Feo everything he knew - crafted heirlooms to help him harness his powers, showed him magic, mythic beings, until Feo was the perfect young boy to ride on his shoulders.
But what else could he teach him? How was Loki supposed to tell him to do something he didn't understand? Feo had never seen other demigods - no one else like him. If they had never seen a demigod before, besides their father, let alone take down one, then how was he supposed to take the throne of the most powerful man in Asgard?
Much to Loki's dismay, he went to his trusted.
His brother.
Of course, he didn't tell him of his plans. Only that his son needed to be exposed to those of his kind, and not knowing how.
And Thor suggested an academy.
Loki did not wish to separate from his beloved. He'd put his time and effort into this boy, and now he had to send them off to an entirely different, corrupt school to go through with his plans?
But, he decided that he'd become entirely too fond of Feo. He was not supposed to become attached to them - Feo was only a helpful tool, a bit more power to finally get Loki on the throne that he'd always wanted.
So Loki sent Feo to college four years later.
What major?
Psychology.
He had to pick something, so they went for the thing that sounded the most fun:
Understanding the brains of other people, so it was easier to mess with those brains.
Now he's here.
Who knows what kind of trouble they'll get in?
Affiliations
[TBD]
Other

Edited at December 23, 2024 11:47 AM by Lackadaisy
Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 09:16 PM


Lackadaisy

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| “In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” - Sun Tzu |

~

"You are nasty. Filthy, even."

A boy with slightly greasy, mussed brown hair pressed himself against the wall, trying to escape the looming threat of the male figure approaching him. His body language screamed avoidance; he wasn’t interested in a fight. This boy was skinny and looked utterly pathetic—a frail silhouette of a person who seemed like a cheat, a liar, a coward.

"Say it again, I dare you," Feo hissed, grabbing the boy's forehead and forcing the back of his head against the rough brick wall. "You are the scum of the world. I dare you to say it again. You're the big, bad son of Zeus. So say it. Tell me that Loki is a rotten, ugly scat one more time. Honor your father, and I might just go easy on you."

Even with terror coursing through him, the boy managed to spit the words out. "I hate Loki," he snarled defiantly. "He should have never existed. He is a mistake."

Asrifeon wasted no time in retaliating, delivering three punishing blows that left the boy crumpled on the ground. With each strike, Asrifeon felt a strange calm wash over him. Revenge had a way of soothing the troubled soul.

The now bloodied demigod sank to the ground, groaning in defeat, and Feo turned away, his grim task completed. He strode down the hall, ignoring the averted gazes of other students, until he stepped out into the sunlight, letting its warmth wash over his face and stilling the twitching of his form entirely.

It was the second week of college, and already, he was feeling the pressure.

Feo had barely started unpacking. Perhaps he was lucky to have a room to himself, or maybe it was the result of having intimidated the headmaster enough by his third year to secure his own space. Regardless, boxes cluttered the floor of his new dormitory in the third wing. Clothes, gifts, and the few letters he received from his father were scattered around, carefully packed, yet still disorganized. The bed remained bare, the walls barren, and two blankets lay crumpled in the corner—his makeshift bed, as he refused to sleep on the stiff mattress provided. He longed to sleep not with blankets, but with grass beneath him.

Feo looked down, focusing his thoughts. He sharpened a fingernail and sliced through a blade of grass as he sat cross-legged in the middle of the gardens. This was as far as he could go without venturing off campus, where he risked being reprimanded by a teacher. He sighed, wiping the bloodied knuckle of his other hand on the ground, casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching. Currently, his social status was nonexistent; people either avoided him or sought him out for recruitment, so he had little to worry about if someone spotted him here. Still, he worried.

The second week had begun. His mind wandered back to college life. One week was already behind him, which meant that today the first and second years would arrive. The fourth and third years typically arrived first; the older students had more time to settle in. The younger classes were busy doing paperwork, getting their rooms assigned, and other trivial matters that Feo had little interest in. However, this meant more time without classes—and, at the very least, more time alone to remind himself that missing his father wasn’t pathetic, and he did not have to take his frustrations out on other students who had done little to deserve it.

And yet, he did it anyway.

A commotion from behind him broke his reverie, and Asrifeon lifted his head, his sharpened nail returning to its normal state, his eyes flickering with the distortion of anxiety.

Cars were arriving. Great.

The second years had arrived. The campus would soon be bustling with faces, laughter, and the chaos that came with fresh beginnings. For Feo, it was a mixed blessing. The influx of students meant more potential interactions, but it also threatened to disrupt his solitude. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable changes that would sweep through the campus with more students around.

As the vehicles rolled in, he could see eager faces stepping out, excited and ready to embark on their journey. Some looked lost, while others seemed to have it all figured out. Feo watched as the second years reunited with friends, their laughter ringing in the air like music, a stark contrast to his own solitude.

Feeling a mix of envy and resignation, he turned his gaze back to the garden, where the grass swayed gently in the breeze. It was a small sanctuary, a place where he could find solace amidst the chaos. He reminded himself that he was not alone; the world was filled with stories just waiting to unfold.

As the day wore on, Feo allowed his thoughts to drift. He pondered the possibility of friendships, the prospect of new connections. Would he be able to navigate the social landscape of college life? Would anyone see past the exterior he had built up? They hadn't last year, and they hadn't the year before. Would this be the year they found out who he really was? The year that they threw him out for his actions? His beliefs?

With each passing moment, he felt the weight of expectation bearing down on him. The pressure to fit in, to conform, felt suffocating. He had always been an outsider, a lone wolf. But perhaps, just perhaps, this time could be different. Perhaps, this year, he would find someone he tolerated.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 09:37 PM


Zeraphia

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Returning to the school was not a chore for Lucius--surprisingly. A lot of other students had reservations about attending, reluctance or even a solid distaste for having to be separate from the rest of the world. Lucius, however, didn't seem to mind at all. His bright smile warmed his blue eyes, taking in the different students. Some had various appearance differences, looking vaguely human but mostly other-worldly--which he found absolutely fascinating. Godly blood manifested itself in many various ways and fashions. Every type was fascinating to him, considering there were some that were "common" and some that were far less common. Some had common heritage and others did not. He was one of those with "less" common heritage.

After all, the creamy white colored feathers that adorned his wings were tell-tale enough. It was the only sign that he was not quite human. Lucius only had his winged wind-god father to thank for those wings and yet, somehow, he missed any and all abilities from his godly heritage. Not a single ounce of fancy magic trickled on down his way. No fancy wind abilities, nothing of the sort.

Nope, just the wings. Which... most--if not all--demigods didn't even have to begin with. A lot of them missed that gene, it was easier to blend in with the regular hum and drum of the mortal life. Figured he'd skip that one. Right? Ah well.

That being said, a lot of other students held other extremities. Tails, vibrant colored wings in the shape of butterflies, dragonflies and even bat-like in shape, horns and antlers and the likes. Some even just changed shape entirely, bouncing along in various animal forms or winged, fluttering in on the breeze.

Some, however, seemed relatively normal. As normal as one could be when being here. They likely had abilities.

Still, Lucius shouldered his duffel bag and set on up the walkway toward the crowd of students. While he wasn't entirely sure which dorm in particular he was staying in, he was eager to see who all was returning, who was new and--his favorite--new friends. Friends made everything better. It was what made the school likable for the winged young man. It wasn't a begrudging experience he just had to attend, it was something he looked forward to. Granted, he had some experience with the local "gangs" or clubs or whatever. He found them petty and rather un-appealing. The difference between "good" gods and "bad" gods. What a cliche mess. He was going to ignore.

There were clubs that often popped up too. He enjoyed acting and the likes. It was fun for him.

The tension was all but palpable in the air to those who knew and noticed. Lucius... it wasn't entirely clear if he just didn't know or didn't care ... or if he was completely and utterly clueless. The latter was far more likely upon a first impression.

His hand extended from the duffel bag, waving eagerly toward a couple of older friends who seemed busy. Lucius remembered the first day he had attended and the slight--albeit relieved--confusion from the other friends. Just wings. Nothing else, no fancy powers, nothing dangerous... just wings.

It was... also why he had his own dorm room to himself, finding a willing roommate to deal with large wings, feathers--the feathers that got everywhere--and his usual routine for caring for the wings... it was a lot to ask of someone. So he just ... didn't.

Finally, Lucius paused and took another glance at the crowd of students if he recognized any one else before he left for his own dorm. He had the paper notice of where his dorm was.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 10:24 PM


Lackadaisy

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| "Curiosity is the compass that leads us to our next destination." |

~

Exhausting was the only word that could truly encapsulate the experience Feo endures. The energy required to navigate the day had drained him, leaving him in a state of weariness that seemed almost tangible. And, yet, it seemed he had done next to nothing.

Eventually, Feo rose from the tranquility of the gardens, where he had found a moment of solace amidst the chaos of the day, and began his journey back inside the school. Despite his natural inclination to soar through the air, he was acutely aware that drawing attention to himself was the last thing he wanted at that moment. The bustling atmosphere of newcomers had a way of amplifying his discomfort, and he preferred to remain unnoticed.

Instead of opting for the main entrance, which was teeming with new arrivals eager to explore their surroundings, Feo chose to navigate through the quieter, less crowded corridors. Each step took him closer to his dorm, his sanctuary. However, the thought of the boxes that awaited him sparked a flicker of annoyance within him. He had a pressing desire to rid himself of them while he still had the time and, more importantly, the motivation—something he had been lacking for quite some time.

His footsteps were nearly soundless, his movements fluid as he glided past the main halls. The second years were bustling about, making their way down their designated wing, searching for their dorms. It was a cacophony of excitement and nervous energy that contrasted sharply with his own internal state.

Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a pair of creamy white feathers. The sight was disarming, as something about that color stirred a sense of familiarity within him. He found himself pausing in the middle of the hallway, momentarily lost in thought, when a second-year student inadvertently bumped into him. He paid no mind to the minor disruption, his focus entirely on the wings that had caught his attention.

He couldn’t see the owner’s face, only the tips of those striking wings, which heightened his curiosity. There was something distinctly engaging about those feathers, and he felt an urge to investigate further.

Feo took a few cautious steps back, glancing around to ensure he wasn’t missing anything. Those wings—their color was strikingly unique. Where had he seen that hue before? The question nagged at him, propelling him forward in search of answers.

With an undeniable urge to see more, Feo discreetly maneuvered through the crowd, his form shifting momentarily into that of a raven. He took flight, pushing himself upward until he found refuge on the balcony of the plant sciences classroom. Settling himself on the railing, he transformed back into his original form, eager to gain a better vantage point of the winged individual below.

From his elevated position, he spotted a male who appeared to be of similar height, albeit looking slightly younger. In that instant, Feo realized his initial assumption was flawed—this boy was not what he had expected. Yet, there was something undeniably intriguing about him. The way the boy's wings stood out among the throng of students was captivating; it wasn’t every day one encountered such a vibrant display.

Feo couldn't recall seeing this boy the previous year, which only intensified his curiosity. What brought him to the school? He couldn't help but wonder why he found himself so fascinated by this boy in particular. His gaze could have easily shifted to any number of other peculiar individuals milling about—the short, cheerful girl with antlers that made her appear taller than she actually was, the boisterous creature that seemed to embody both human and animal traits, or the enigmatic woman who danced with flames swirling about her hands.

So why hadn’t his attention wandered to them?

As he pondered this, Feo’s mind began to race with possibilities. Perhaps it was the rarity of the boy's wings that brought him to focus. In a world where magic and extraordinary beings were commonplace, it was still unusual to see someone with such striking features. The vibrant hues of his feathers caught the light in a way that made them shimmer, drawing Feo in like a moth to a flame.

He shifted slightly on the railing, trying to get a clearer look without being detected. What was it about this boy that pulled at him? Perhaps it was the carefree manner in which he moved, a stark reminder of the joy that could be found in camaraderie. Or maybe it was simply the allure of the unknown, the desire to understand what lay beneath the surface of those strange feathers.

He remained on the balcony, a silent observer, grappling with his thoughts. The bustling school around him faded into the background as he contemplated the risk of stepping forward. There was a part of him that yearned for connection, yet another that clung to his solitude.

With a deep breath, he weighed his options, watching the students below him with an undying curiosity.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 23, 2024 10:53 PM


Zeraphia

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With red brick on either side of him, Lucius found himself inside of the courtyard of the dorm. His blue eyes lifted up, watching the way that the clouds drifted overhead, aimlessly drifting about without much concern. No concern for what was going on below them. Not a care at all, maybe a distant storm to brew up but anything else? That was matters for someone else. For a brief moment, Lucius wished he could be like those fluffy white clouds, up in the sky without a care in the world. Not that he had many cares at all.

He was there to learn how to teach students--while his major was history, he knew full well that wasn't what he was going to be teaching. His tiny school back home was full of surprising demigods, creatures and other beings. He'd be teaching flight, wing anatomy and the likes but that was hard to state to the government board. So was hiding the bright wings but he could figure something out. He had lasted this long, right?

His degree was considered a teaching license with a minor in history. That meant it was only a two year degree, which was why he was there but also considered an "older" student. That was far more strange all things considered but Lucius was far from normal.

One of the "hall monitors" waved him down, gesturing for him to come toward them. The man smiled faintly. "Zeller, right?"

Lucius gave him a brighter smile and bobbed his head. "Yessir," he chirped back, hefting his duffel bag over one shoulder. "You have my room information right?"

"Yes, uhm, just due to the traffic here and the fact you've... got those," he gestured lightly to the large set of white wings. The man was slightly uncomfortable with addressing them, not that Lucius seemed to mind or care at all. He seemed rather oblivious to the discomfort of the poor man. He continued, either way, and pointed upward. "There is a balcony on the fourth floor that you can land in and just get to your room from there if you'd like?"

The smile that Lucius wore didn't dim at all, instead, it brightened. The type of smile that crinkled his eyes, tilted his head and brought one shoulder up. "That is perfect, thank you so much!" His voice was smooth and carried a light jump to it as he spoke.

Lucius stepped back, making his way out of the courtyard. His arms swung the duffel bag around to hold close to his chest in his arms as he spread out creamy white feathers. A couple of steps, a light jump and a rush of wind and he had taken to the air. Lucius only needed a few sweeping flaps and a couple smaller flutters to land on the balcony. His wings folded against his back once more before he pulled the paper from his pocket, swinging the duffel bag over his shoulder again. 407.

"That..." he said quietly, mostly to himself as his sapphire eyes scanned the sign, "is to my right--alright. I can do that," he stepped into the hallway, watching the placards on the doors.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 24, 2024 10:21 AM


Lackadaisy

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| "Some mysteries are not meant to be solved, yet they cling to us, pulling us toward the unknown." |
~
Feo lingered on the balcony a moment longer, his eyes still locked on the students below, even long after the boy had gone. His mind spun with questions he had no means to answer. With an annoyed, muttered curse, he forced himself to turn away.
-
"This is ridiculous," he mumbled to himself, his voice barely audible over the muffled din of the bustling school below.
-
He shifted into his raven form once more, allowing the cool wind to carry him away from the balcony and back toward his dormitory. The transformation, though second nature to him, was always a small relief—a reminder of his ability to slip away unnoticed when the world felt too loud or intrusive, even if it did leave him more tired than before. The dormitory loomed ahead, a quiet sanctuary compared to the lively chaos of the main halls.
-
Feo landed gracefully on the windowsill of his room and shifted back into his human form, stepping inside with an air of weariness that weighed on his every movement. The sight of the stacked boxes waiting for him drew a groan from his lips.
-
“Great,” he muttered, closing the window behind him. “Just what I need.”
-
The room was simple but spacious enough, with a large bed tucked into one corner and a desk pushed against the opposite wall. The boxes were piled haphazardly near the wardrobe. He had unpacked nothing since his arrival, leaving the room devoid of personality.
-
With a resigned sigh, Feo walked over to the nearest box and tore open the top, revealing a mess of neatly folded clothes. He began sorting through them, placing each item into the wardrobe with mechanical precision. His mind, however, was elsewhere.
-
No matter how hard he tried to focus on the mundane task at hand, the image of the winged boy kept creeping back into his thoughts. The wings—creamy white and soft-looking, like freshly fallen snow—were unlike anything he had seen before. There was a familiarity to them, a sense of déjà vu that nagged at the edges of his memory.
-
"Why do I even care?" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if the motion would dislodge the boy from his mind. "It’s not like he’s the first person with wings I’ve ever seen."
-
But deep down, Feo knew it wasn’t just the wings that intrigued him. There was something about the boy’s presence, the way he seemed to move through the crowd with effortless grace, that struck a chord within him.
-
He pulled out a small trinket from one of the boxes—a carved wooden raven, its surface polished smooth from years of handling. Turning it over in his hands, he let his mind wander.
-
Who was the boy? A new student, clearly, but why hadn’t Feo noticed him before? The thought made him frown. He prided himself on his ability to observe without being seen, yet somehow, this boy had slipped under his radar until now.
-
The idea that someone could so thoroughly capture his attention—and hold it—was unsettling. Feo had always been the type to keep his distance, preferring the company of his own thoughts to the chaos of others. Yet here he was, unpacking his belongings while replaying every detail he could recall about a complete stranger.
-
Annoyed with himself, he shoved the wooden raven back into the box and moved on to another. This one contained books, their spines lined with titles on magic, history, and ancient creatures. As he arranged them on the shelf above his desk, he found his thoughts drifting once again.
-
The boy’s wings had shimmered in the sunlight, their pristine color catching the light in a way that seemed almost otherworldly. Feo could still see the faint glow in his mind’s eye, a stark contrast to his own dark feathers.
-
The questions piled up faster than he could unpack, each one more frustratingly elusive than the last. He tried to dismiss them, focusing instead on organizing his belongings, but the image of the boy refused to leave him.
-
As the last of the books found its place on the shelf, Feo sat back on his heels and stared at the now-empty box in front of him. His dorm room was slowly beginning to take shape, but his mind felt as cluttered as ever.
-
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes in an attempt to clear his head. The quiet of the room was soothing, a stark contrast to the noise of the halls, but even here, the boy's presence lingered like a ghost.
-
"Maybe I’m just tired," Feo muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "It’s been a long day."
-
But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. There was something about the boy that called to him, a connection he couldn’t explain but couldn’t ignore.
-
For a moment, Feo considered going back out to the halls, just to see if he could catch another glimpse of him. The thought made his stomach twist with an unfamiliar mix of anticipation and anxiety.
-
"No," he decided firmly, pushing himself to his feet. "I’ve got enough to deal with without getting wrapped up in someone else’s mystery."
-
And yet, as he moved to unpack the next box, Feo couldn’t help but glance toward the window, his mind already wandering back to the boy with the creamy white wings.

Edited at December 24, 2024 12:07 PM by Lackadaisy
Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 24, 2024 11:52 AM


Zeraphia

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Under most normal circumstances, Lucius would be well aware of who was looking his direction but at that current moment, he was ignoring it for the sake of his own peace of mind. It was the first day at a school closer to his home town. A couple of his old buddies had recommended trading to the closer college just to save on money, be closer to family and friends and he figured it couldn't hurt that badly. Well, "family". That was a loose term for the people who had basically taken him in when his mother was... too far gone to be a real mother. Bless their hearts. He owed a lot to them.

But for the moment, he was piecing through the hallway to find his dorm room. Normally, it was uncommon to have a dorm room all to himself. But where he had large extremities that required a longer routine and the fact that he had no idea if anyone else was allergic to feathers and the likes, it was discussed and determined to be better if he just had it to himself. But it was bare. He didn't really have many boxes, much clothing or much of anything in that sense. It wasn't that he didn't want a lot of stuff but more so that he couldn't afford to keep a lot of things. Everything he had was in the duffel bag. The grey duffel bag was dumped on the floor as Lucius sat down on the circular bed. Normal rectangular beds were great and all... if you could comfortably sleep on your back. But Lucius found that he often gained pins and needles in his wings when he woke up later. He was far more used to sleeping on his side or his stomach. So the circular bed was provided and it was a lot more comfortable considering the wide length of his wings.

Lucius let out a slow breath, pushing a hand through his hair before shaking his head. He had heard rumors and whatnot from his friends about the cliques at the school. Rather than fighting about who was better in sports, in clubs or whatever... they were far more focused on godly parents.

Which, to Lucius, was rather stupid. Heritage did not determine the personality of the child. In fact, it was rather the opposite. Heritage meant nothing. Culture, tradition and the choices of the parent raising their child meant far more to the personality and later choices of the child. It didn't matter what their child was.

Besides, Lucius hadn't ever met Zephyrus. The man was ... well, gone with the wind. Quite literally.

Not that it mattered too much to Lucius, he felt like he was a pretty good person overall. More or less, at least. But he was a bit on the older side of the majority of the university students. He had taken a few years to work and save up money to even be able to move out to college. He had loans, that was inevitable. But at least... he'd be able to pay them off. Or the school would--the agreement was still up in the air.

Lucius shook his head lightly, moving to fill the closet with the clothes that he did have. It was meager and he threw a pillow onto the bed. No blankets were necessary when he had... wings.

He glanced out the window once again, scanning around. It probably wouldn't hurt to figure out where his classes were before he had to attend them.

So he stepped back out to the hallway and walked to the open balcony. He took a step forward, leaping up and over the edge, pushing off with his feet to soar into the air of the courtyard. He did have a pretty impressive wing span, all things considered, and they caught the breeze well, reflecting the warm fall sun.

Lackadaisy x ZeraDecember 24, 2024 12:19 PM


Lackadaisy

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| "Some shadows are drawn to the light, not to extinguish it, but to understand why it burns." |
~
Feo shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the box in front of him. But as he reached for the next item—a faded leather-bound journal—he felt an odd twinge in his chest, a pull he couldn’t quite place. He opened the journal absently, flipping through pages filled with sketches and notes in his own sharp, precise handwriting. The drawings were familiar: raven feathers, constellations, and sigils he had studied over the years.
-
But then, on a page near the back, he paused.
-
A sketch stared back at him—hastily drawn but unmistakable. It was of wings. Not his own dark, shadowed ones, but something softer, brighter. Wings just like the boy's.
-
“What…?” Feo muttered, his fingers tracing the lines of the drawing. He didn’t remember sketching this. And yet, there it was, buried among pages he hadn’t looked at in years.
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The Norse writing beneath the sketch was smudged, but he could make out fragments: “Light… balance… destined…” The rest was indecipherable, faded as though time itself had tried to erase it.
-
A message from his father, perhaps? Or was it some weird, sleep-drawing phenomenon?
-
A chill ran down his spine. Feo snapped the journal shut and set it aside, the feeling of unease settling deeper into his bones.
-
Before he could dwell on it further, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling him. He turned toward the door, his heart racing.
-
“Who is it?” he called, his voice sharper than intended.
-
The door creaked open, revealing a girl with fiery red hair tied back in a loose braid. Her piercing green eyes swept over him and the half-unpacked room with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
-
“Relax, Feo,” she said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “It’s just me.”
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“Lyric,” he muttered, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “What do you want?”
-
Lyric raised an eyebrow, stepping inside uninvited. “Nice to see you too. You weren’t with us to watch the great herd of little kids coming in. Figured I’d check in before you vanished completely.”
-
“I was busy,” he replied curtly, motioning to the boxes.
-
Her gaze flicked to the journal on the desk, and for a moment, her expression shifted—just barely. “Busy brooding, more like,” she teased, but there was an edge to her tone. “What’s got you so worked up?”
-
“Nothing,” Feo said quickly, too quickly.
-
Lyric smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure.” She wandered closer, picking up the wooden raven he had discarded earlier. Turning it over in her hands, she glanced at him. “You’re distracted.”
-
“I’m fine,” he snapped, snatching the raven back from her.
-
Her smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “Feo, come on. What is it? You’ve got that look again.”
-
He hesitated, debating whether to tell her. But Lyric had a way of prying answers out of him, whether he wanted to give them or not.
-
Finally, he sighed. “It’s nothing. Just… a new student.”
-
Lyric blinked. “A new student? That’s what’s got you acting all moody?”
-
“He’s not just—” Feo stopped himself, biting his tongue. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say.
-
Lyric tilted her head, intrigued. “Not just what? Come on, spill.”
-
He hesitated again, then muttered, “He has wings.”
-
Lyric’s eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Wings, huh? Like Annasia?”
-
Annasia. That stupid valkyrie girl. Feo snarled just at the thought of her.
-
“No. Different. White. Bright. Not like anything I've ever seen."
-
Something flickered across her face—recognition, maybe—but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure.
-
“And you’re… what? Obsessed with him now?” she teased, but her tone was more cautious than playful.
-
Feo glared at her. “I’m not obsessed. I just… There’s something about him. Something I can’t explain.”
-
Lyric studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she said, “Maybe you should find out.”
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“I don’t even know his name,” Feo admitted, frustrated.
-
“That’s never stopped you before,” she pointed out. “You’re good at finding things out. Use those creepy Loki instincts of yours.”
-
He rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the advice, Lyric. Very helpful.”
-
She shrugged, heading for the door. “Hey, I’m just saying. If this guy’s got you all twisted up, maybe there’s a reason for it. You’ve always been good at seeing things the rest of us can’t. Don’t ignore it.”
-
With that, she was gone, leaving Feo alone with his thoughts once more.
-
He glanced back at the journal, the sketch of the wings burning in his mind. Lyric’s words echoed in his ears: Maybe there’s a reason for it.
-
Against his better judgment, Feo found himself moving toward the window again, looking out.
-
He couldn't help but wonder what he was doing, and whether he should find him.
-
And, as if on cue, an ivory-winged boy swept through the air, his wings near-glowing in the sun.
-
Feo's head spun.

Edited at December 24, 2024 12:47 PM by Lackadaisy

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