Cyril Daedric (FIN)

[Locke (DP)]

Name: Cyril Daedric
Nickname: --
Pronunciation: [seer-uhl] [day-drik]
Meaning: 'Master' 'Lordly'
Species: Humanoid
Race/Breed: Witch (Warlock, Sorcerer, whatever- HEALING TYPE)
Height: 5'0"
Weight: 116 lbs.
Gender: Male
Age: 23-24 years


Birthplace: Caedere
Past Alliance(s): --
Past Rank(s): --
Current Alliance(s): Sideris
Current Rank(s): Ranger
Faction(s) Hated/At War: --


Relatives
Mother: Celessa
-Mother's Parents: ? x Cyrus
-Mother's Siblings: ?, ?, and ?
Father: Brutus
-Father's Parents: ? x ?
-Father's Siblings: Ebron
Siblings: --
Nieces & Nephews: --
Children: --

Non-Relatives
Significant Other: --
Crush: --
Close Friends: --
Friends: --
Acquaintances: --
Disliked: --
Hated: --


Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Cyril harbors a bitter resentment towards people and society. The man seems aloof and distant from most. Seemingly wholly there, observing the interactions of those around him, it could not be said that he is eccentric. Merely quiet and cold. Those that only get this close to Cyril are the lucky ones.

For Cyril is far from mute. Observing people to find all their weaknesses, Cyril grinds at those he really hates. Tries to make them angry or make them cry. It is a game to him. When someone is screaming at him (whether in aggression or fear) he is happy. If lucky enough to find someone that indulges in his evil little word games, Cyril enjoys the competition, as long as he is winning. The moment he realizes the game has turned bad his disposition becomes positively venomous. Never to the point of aggression, unless violence has been done to him, but always spewing words filled with raw hatred or walking away flustered if absolutely defeated.

Strong distrust keeps others from getting close to him, but even friendly interactions may seem shallow or even border on cruel. Affection is often shown in the form of incessant teasing. With his harsh form of humor he is known to go a bit too far with his playful bullying and alienate those who really care for him. The man has the biggest soft spot for certain types of woman, specifically, those who are caring, gentle, generous.

Cyril has lack of proper control in his magic. The magic sometimes randomly kicks in, energy overflowing, and splutters out of his fingertips and travels up his skin. A convenience in the midst of a battle, but otherwise an utter annoyance, as it is a great drain on his physical energy as well. The magical tax and his age (and now magical stability) ease these episodes, but they still crop up from time to time, usually at the worst of moments.

His healing magic itself is limited. Usually during episodes it works much greater and usually much more effective on himself than other individuals. Aside from normal first aid (something handy to all rangers) his magic limits itself to small or medium sized lacerations, scraps, or bruises. Cyril expresses no true interest in becoming a full-time warlock, but there is a small wish that his healing powers were more…helpful.

The last note on Cyril, and the strangest of all, is that he likes to sleep. A lot. More than any normal being ought to sleep. Awake, he does not seem especially weary or dazed, but give him a chance to jump at a nap and he will do it. Why the strange obsession with sleep? No one really knows.



(Pre-RP)
The bombing of Errare brought an end to the long and noble line that was Cyril’s. What remained of his family took refuge on the outskirts of Red Axe, where he was born. A strange sickness eradicated what was left. The infant was not left untouched by this dark sickness, but survived nonetheless, and continued his life in an orphanage as the sole survivor of his line. The boy would never know of his own parents, and while aware of their demise, did not think much on it. The orphanage was his home…until he grew up.

In his preteen years Cyril began showing signs of magic, a sort of chaotic underdeveloped magic, but magic nonetheless. With this newfound power came the whispers from his peers. ‘They’re gonna’ put a collar on you’ they said ‘just like a dog’. Fear gripped him and his adolescent mind came up with the only solution he could find; he had to run away, to the forests, where the men couldn’t put a collar on him or hurt him. One can imagine this did not turn out particularly well. The boy got far, oddly enough, but in the wrong direction and half-starved and filthy by the time he was discovered.

A young roving Joachim Grey was the one to rescue Cyril. Joachim was an eccentric young fellow, claiming to be some sort of ecologist that had been booted from his university shy of his finishing year. Joachim was no father figure, but the sight of Cyril caused much sympathy in the young man, and although he was struggling on his own he dared take the boy under his wing. The two immediately bonded and Cyril trusted Joachim with his secret. Mr. Grey heartily declared they would move to Sideris, far out into the country, and start a fresh life there with new identities.

The two boys roughed it out as they traveled to Sideris. The pair settled between the Vanguard Mountains and the Steward’s Sea and made a poor living there aiding a lumberjack in cutting down the trees and shipping them to Fossgate. Joachim became Cyril’s private tutor during their off time. They spent several years living like this until their lifestyle was cut short by military intervention. Joachim was drafted and they were given little choice but to move to the capital city.

Joachim Grey was not considerably pleased with being forced to enlist, being more of an intellect than a warrior (although one could not claim he wasn’t a fit intellect after all his time working in the woods), but the man tried his best to adapt to the new lifestyle. The more time spent in training the closer he became to his military friends. Cyril, on the other hand, was miserable here. The now-older-teens magic was starting to flare up again, like some enraged animal straining against the bars of a cage, and although the magic was completely harmless it was quite a show. Not to mention the smell the youth was giving off was rather strong. Cyril fully understood this marked him as a warlock and also knew that if such was found out he would be collared and drained, a fate he’d been avoiding for all these years. While Jaochim was out and about with his training and military duties, Cyril had permanently locked himself in the apartments, hoping this ‘magical flare’ would fade.

Growing restless and bitter, as teens are wont to do when cooped indoors all day, Cyril had become snappish and hot towards Joachim. Their brotherly relationship started going downhill from there and it got to the point where Joachim suggested Cyril should turn himself into the government. “Living a life like this isn’t worth being free, boy,” Joachim told him. “This is no freedom anyways.” Initially Cyril could not agree to this. As the days wore on he was beginning to see it from his brother’s point of view. Yes. It was time to turn himself in.

The very day he had dressed himself up and prepared for a trip to the castle, to hand himself over to those blasted people and receive his very own collar, Joachim came with his military buddies. Four strange, rowdy, clean-shaved and uniformed men stepped into through the door and when Cyril looked them in the eyes he saw knowing. They had come for him. Although Cyril had been prepared to turn himself to the government the feeling of betrayal overcame him and drove his mind to madness. Joachim had taken it upon himself to reveal his secret to his friends, strangers to Cyril, and to add insult to injury was going to strap a collar onto his own ‘brother’. This last encounter with Joachim ended in a bloody fist fight between brothers and Cyril’s escape. Perhaps the man could not chase his own brother down- too cowardice to do the dirty deed himself in the end.

The proper authorities were informed about a rogue witch, most likely headed for the mountains. Within two weeks Cyril had been found, beaten within an inch of his life, and properly collared.

(IN LIST FORM- because I want to finish this shit.)
◘ Returned to Sideris. Not able to face his traitorous brother, Cyril was left homeless and without a job.
◘ Joined the military himself, but as a medic. Learned general first aid skills, survival methods, and was able to use his magic a bit more efficiently.
◘ By the end of his service he had come to realize that he was finding no happiness in his work or his life in Sideris. He took to the Vanguard Mountains, deciding to live off of the land and become a young hermit.
◘ While in the forests bordering the mountains he came across a group of lost witches and warlocks, trying to find a way out of Sideris and to the fabled Bastion Tower. Sympathizing with the rogue witches and warlocks, Cyril decided to not turn them in and aided them in their efforts.
◘ From that point forward Cyril Daedric lived only to help non-criminal rogue witches and warlocks escape Sideris, becoming an outlaw of Sideris.

(Post RP)
◘ NONONO.






-IRONY. This profile has it.
-IGNORE HIS ART. His clothes need to be steampunkified. Srsly. Also he does not really have pointy ears and cat eyes. At least on here. Lulz.

[Cass]

>D

[Locke (DP)]

asdlfksjjj!!! THAT IS SO OLD. I don't even think I have that anymore. XD

IS THAT FROM THE BEACH PARTY BTW? I think it might be. It's blue. LULZ.

[Cass]

Hahaha! I have no idea, I just found it in my old photobucket when I was looking for old artz of Lin XD
I had to share <3

[Rip]

HELLO BUTTHEAD

[Locke (DP)]

OK. Finally finished his profile, but I don't want to be the one to move it. FEELS TOO WEIRD. XD

[Jan]

you JUST finished this? XDD

[Locke (DP)]

YES STFU. XD (j/k)

I just needed to finish his history but I was having trouble writing it so I finally just put it in list form and got that shit done. X3

Now I'll have to poke Cass so she knows I'm not letting that RP rot and die.