dorian ♕’s Comments (group member since Nov 28, 2020)

dorian ♕’s comments from the Grimoire’s Return. group.

Marcus stared at her back. And maybe it was stupid to think this but…

She had called him “Carnam”. His last name.

Not Hunter.

He stared at her back, before turning away from it. Fine, then. They were enemies. And the next time he saw her, he would kill her.

He was done playing the games.

And actually…

Marcus unsheathed his knife.

Why not just start now?

He glanced at Burroughs, and raised his brows. “Get my 6.” He didn’t let Burroughs process that information before he charged at Ace.

“How about neither? How about we just leave Aenia and go somewhere else, somewhere where we won’t have to deal with war and this bullshit?”

He was desperate. But he couldn’t think of any other way. She would DIE, if she did this.

“We could actually be HAPPY, there, Ace. We don’t have to pretend anymore.” He reached for her hand.

“No.”

Marcus was going to lose his shit.
He found himself speeding up to Car, and he turned her to face him. “Ace. Witch. MY witch. No. I have been in battles, I have fought for Badeux before. You don’t want to do this. The things you see, the things you have to DO…”

He shuddered, as a memory of death and the slow torture of a witch that he had once fought came to him. Having the slowly take their nails off of them, one

by

one

Until they were screaming and bleeding and admitting their secrets…

“Ace. No.”

Marcus stopped.

The world stopped.

Actually, the world was already stopped, but that’s as besides the point.

“No.” He said. “You AREN’T going to use her as your plow to WIN A WAR.” He revealed his knife. “No.”

Marcus followed, Tenebris at his side. Dare this man did ANYTHING, he would kill him in a heartbeat. Around him, the world was still frozen and white, not willing to show the dead bodies of the victims of war.

“What are you guys going to do about the war?” Marcus asked. The thought had just came to him. “You won’t allow this to go unpunished, right?”

Clown

Marcus narrowed his eyes. What was this man playing at? It wouldn’t make sense if—

At the glance Burroughs gave him, he grimaced. He said that out loud.

In front of Ace.

Ignoring the possible hurt look His Witch could give him, Marcus looked at Mal. “Take me to your king. Now.”

Was it?

Marcus couldn’t tell anymore. He couldn’t tell if he liked not knowing what would happen, but also he knew that he didn’t like the concept of KNOWING what HAD happened.

So instead, he just nodded. “Why are you here?”

Marcus watched the altercation, like it was a movie and not reality for him. He watched as the man kneeled in front of Ace, who looked down on him.

“What—“ Marcus swallows around the lump in his throat, “What happened here? Why is everyone… dead?”

“How do you know our names.” A rage of fury snapped from Marcus, and he stood up. “Tell us, NOW.”

He unsheathed Tenebris, and held it out in front of him, not batting an eye. This was okay. This was fine. Ace and him would figure out what the hell had happened, and they would find a way to reverse it to stop it t—

He didn’t know what they would do, honestly.

You can put him anywhere. Well interact. It doesn’t matter fam, we have characters OUTSIDE of the ones we’re currently playing. I have a character open, and Hades does too.

Mjhyu ion

MLs greya

Marcus, weak, stared blankly at the man. It was like he was staring THROUGH the man, honestly, as made their way to them. Absentmindedly, he wondered whether he should get up to protect Ace and himself.

He wondered if he wanted to protect himself, or would he just allow himself to go to death like a sheep in a pasture.

I mean, if you want to change his gender, or his magic, etc. you can, just copy my post and paste it into the comments with your changes

MAL IS ACE, SWEETIE

Full Name - Tristan Aoife Róisín

Name Meanings - Tristan, meaning "sad" or "sorrowful" and Aoife meaning "beauty".

Nicknames - Tris

Number - 0512

Paranormal Ability - Vibration

Description - The user is able to generate vibrations that can travel through virtually any medium

Gender - Male

Pronouns - He/They

Sexuality - Bisexual

Crush - none (yet :)

Birth date - October 31

Age - 17 years old

Zodiac - Scorpio

Birthstone - Opal

Appearance -Golden brown skin, with dark shaggy hair, and light brown eyes. Has one dimple, and full lips, though short nails (from biting on them; a nervous habit). He a slitted eyebrow from being hit with a chair as a child (long story) and an occasional loud, high pitched giggle/ snort.

Photo - https://pin.it/632eHf1 , https://pin.it/3ks2Gbd

Hair -

Eyes - Light brown

Height - 6'1

Weight - 156 (most of it muscle)

Skin - Golden brown

Body Type- Meso-Ectomorph

Weaknesses - His abilities come with an aversion to fire and air. Tristan can, if wanted, move them, but has never learned how, thus meaning he stays as far away as he can from the two elements. Tristan also, while being able to handle himself in a fight, definitely would not be able to handle a fight involving weapons (unless powers count). Also, is curious. Like, extremely. He is so curious, he can be considered nosy. Also, has Pteromerhanophobia, aka the fear of flying.

Strengths - Was able to teach himself his abilities, before he got invited to the school. Can survive on his own for a while, though inevitably will get caught doing something, or will need help. Knows
how to fight, though not in terms of weaponry.

Skills (This being what other things are they good at, ex: soccer, tennis) - Good at writing, reading, and making friends. Can be a survivalist.

Father - Rowan Róisín (age 51; deceased)

Mother - Rosemary Róisín (age 39; deceased)

Brother(s) - None

Sister(s) - Izabella Róisín (age 5; was adopted by another family, as she doesn't have abilities)

Friends - TBD; though did have a best friend named Lou

Enemies - None

History - (view spoiler)[ Tristan was 8 when they first came for his father. His mother had told him of his father's abilities, had told Tristan to hide it so they wouldn't get hurt, wouldn't die, but nonetheless the men came. They took Tristan's father away, and he never saw his father again, believing his father to be dead. Tristan was 12 when they came for his mother. His mother never did anything wrong, never hurt a soul. She had hid him, before she went to o confront the men. The men had murdered his mother right in front of him, slitting her throat in a blink. Tristan had ran, taking his then 1 year old sister with him, before leaving her to their neighbors, people who had loved his sister like their own daughter. Tristan forced himself to learn how to survive at 12, became inept at his power because his father surely could not have taught him. He told himself how to make small tremors in the ground, to become powerful, so he wouldn't be hurt, or come after like his parents were. A year after that, the day before his birthday, a woman came to him. She told him of his power, of people that were like him. And after that day, Tristan's world had changed forever. (hide spoiler)]

Personality - Tristan is bubbly, though when reading a book is very quiet and normally snappish if interrupted. He likes to bite his nails if nervous, and can be quite immature. He is defensive of the people he cares about, and can be annoying.

Likes - Girls, boy, the smell of freshly baked pie, writing, ghost stories, and the exhilaration that comes when looking forward to something.

Dislikes - Flying, no matter what type, vehicles, loud noises (as in, trains, and such), and trees. Like, trees, man. They just stand there and do nothing.

Fears - Pteromerhanophobia, being alone, and death. Always afraid of death.



Hobbies - Likes to make fires (once almost committed arson inside of the school and got a month's detention for it, reading, writing, and being loud (which, obviously, makes him a hypocrite).

Health Conditions - None; though Tristan does occasionally get allergies.

Allergies - Pollen (TREES, MAN)

Habits - biting nails when nervous, talks a lot when anxious, fidgeting with a ring on his left index finger

Outfit - [

Okay, I paste one of my characters and you make your necessary changes to them

Go to workshops

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod—

Everyone was dead. That meant Caspian, and Dante, and Pastor John and the Elders and the Venandi and oh my god oh my god oh my god—

Marcus’s breathing got quicker. He was losing it. His eyes went blurry with tears, with emotion. He felt, he SAW Ace fall to her knees beside him. He should comfort her.

He should protect her.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t—

Oh my god.