Professors

[Sυммer Rαιɴ || Wrιтιɴɢ ιѕ α cαllιɴɢ, ɴoт α cнoιce.]

Post your professors here to be approved.

[Grayson, Papa Gray]

Nᴀᴍᴇ: Markaus Volkrov
Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s): Marky or Volky(but good luck calling him that)

Aɢᴇ: 28
Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: March 30th, 1985

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Male
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Sexually fluid

Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs: Werewolf
Iᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: He has a much longer life span and, due to experiments, he is more immune to harm. Wolfsbane and silver in large doses are incredibly poisonous to him.
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Monster History 101 Teacher and bouncer of the illegal fight club.

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Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Markaus is a large man, towering above most with his six foot eight inch height. He has a full chest and strong muscles, body toned from hours of training and countless brawls on the streets. The Russian has an extremely rare look due to the experiments done to him: fair skin, white hair, and bright septic green eyes. He is seldom seen without his trademark fur coat, his black clothes, and his weathered leather combat boots.


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Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ: Shogo Makishima from Pyscho Pass
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 6’8
Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 210
Hᴀɪʀ: White
Sᴋɪɴ: Extremely fair
Eʏᴇs: Bright green
Bᴏᴅʏ: Muscled, scarred, and slightly tattooed.
Vᴏɪᴄᴇ: A deeper, fuller sound that is smooth. He is extremely Russian, and the accent carries over.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Markaus is very happy-go-lucky and usually carefree about his daily life. Being quite the jokester, he ranges from sarcasm to awful dad puns and doesn’t care remotely what others think about him. He can be an asshole when he wants to be; which turns out to be often. The Russian never abides by the no alcohol rule of the school and is always accompanied by a flask in the classroom. He is a rough and tough, off the wall, sometimes completely mad werewolf. Never does he reveal his true feelings. No, he opts out mental security in exchange for swallowing down insecurities and hiding emotions and masking all of that with an overwhelming humor and ability to react in sarcasm!







Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ(s): He is incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid, depending on how you want to see it. He will fight for what he believes in, be it right or wrong.

Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss(ᴇs): He is a hopeless lover with a brother complex and self loathing issues that would force a psychiatrist to self hate. He doesn’t care about himself in the slightest, so his body takes on more damage than it should.

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ:

Markaus Volkrov was born to a very poor family of four: his mother, his father, his brother, and himself. His father, Vance was a large and strong man, powerful for their small little town, barrel-chested and thick armed from years of chopping lumber. His mother, Gwen was extremely blunt and to the point, making an amazing home maker. Young Markaus was quite the opposite of how he is now. He was a wee tike with dark ebony hair and more tanned skin with bright blue eyes, an insight for adventure and an intangible imagination. Having a younger sibling, especially one as gentle and fragile as Zenon, left a lot of responsibility to be saddled onto the young lad's shoulders. Even at an incredibly young age, he was forced to cook, clean, gather lumber and water, help provide for the family, and take care of Zenon properly. He had to learn how to survive: being a child of a poor family, the oldest, and the least popular of the parents. He was often critiqued harshly on his work, given severe punishments for screw ups, and had to develop a thick skin. Even though Markaus was the oldest, Zenon was the favorite, hands down. Whatever the younger boy wanted, he received, no questions asked. It was very clear that their parents showed favoritism; they didn't try to hide it at all.



In their small town, one very dangerous threat was always imminent for mystical beings. A group of highly speciest individuals was capturing and running illegal tests on anyone they deemed different. Markaus, being a werewolf, was not safe either. The militia came running into their home with guns blazing, not sparing the parents at all. Markaus was given strict orders to take Zenon and get him to safety. So the Russian, very young at the time, had to carry his baby brother on his back, sprinting through the forest as trained dogs chased after them. They had to make it to the river. There, they could run far, far away. As soon as the river was in sight, they saw a figure there. The children nearly wept in joy. That was their aunt, Portia, who had arranged to meet them in case of any emergency. Markaus sludged across the frosty fall waters and quickly handed Zenon off to Portia with a tired smile. Greedily, Portia clutched at the young child, regarding Markaus with a look of disgust. Swiftly and without remorse, she plunged a dagger into the eldest son's abdomen and shoved him back down into the river. With a mixture of betrayal and hurt, Markaus cried out in pain as Portia ran, leaving her nephew to weep as the dogs and soldiers found him.



Relentlessly, he was tortured. Whipped and flogged until he forgot his own name up till they made him scream out his flawed imperfect during the shock therapy. He was poked and prodded, torn open and shattered, tested on and shouted at 'Where are the others?' 'Why are you here?' 'Abomination!', one would call him, 'Freak!' another would say. Markaus was stripped bare in front of his captors, made to seek his most vulnerable point, until he had reached his most naked identity. The injections were frequent and unforgiving. The serum changed him, giving him strength. Those scientists changed everything about him: his skin color, his eye color, his hair. Nothing was really his any more. Even his name would become a test file subject for them to report when his death came.



Travis. That was the name of the new nurse they had assigned to Markaus as soon as he had reached age 19. Travis was kind and patient, a stark contrast against the beasts of men that called themselves vigilantes. He cared for Markaus after each beating, slowly cleaning his broken body with a gentle hand and a kind smile. Feelings had even begun to take place between the two men, a fantastic platonic friendship. They told each other everything. About how Travis wanted to become a doctor for the vigilantes some day. Or how Markaus had forgotten the smell of fresh air or exactly what shade of blue the sky became at noon. Each day, they ended with a smile, a small hug, and a quiet goodbye. Travis became more trusted within the group, to the point where they allowed him keys for all of the prisoners. As soon as Markaus saw this, he was thrilled. So that night, after the experiments, the beatings, and the punishments, the two friends chatted calmly, said their goodbyes, and exchanged polite hugs. Without a second thought, he stabbed Travis in the chest, and took his keys. His eyes were cold and distant, and he didn't so much as shed a tear as his friend passed. With bloody hands and a red ledger, Markaus fled, free from his former bonds. He ran and ran and ran until his legs gave out on him. Not like it would matter. He was long gone from the facility. The sky above him was a tarnished red and the ground below him waved like an ocean of wheat. He collapsed a few miles away, panting as his fingers dug into the warmth earth. Only then did he cry, so happy to be free. To be able to breathe in all of the fresh air.



A thrift shop was the easiest and closest place to rob. There, he picked the first things he found in his size: a long coat with fur, a brown shirt, black jeans, and a worn out pair of combat boots. That look happens to be his style to this very day. From that day forward, Markaus Lowe was dead and gone. Markaus Volkrov was all that was left, and all that there would ever be.



Markaus took on many jobs, anything that he could find that would give him any amount of money to help pay for rent or living: bartender, bouncer, street fighting, male dancer, hitman, information broker. Anything. That was when he found an invitation for the Yokai Academy and applied immediately. All the time he had spent in the lab of the vigilantes helped him get familiarized with many species, so the job of Monster History professor had a nice ring to it.



Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(s):
(view spoiler)[» Zenon Cross - His brother; his 'rival/competition'.



» Felix Donovan - His student; his public favorite.

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Pᴇᴛ(s): He owns a Native American Indian dog named Hakoda.


Fɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ Sᴋɪʟʟ(s):
- Swordsmanship
- Brawling
- Hand-to-hand Combat
- Knife Throwing

Mᴀɢɪᴄ(s):
-Healing

Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s):
- Knives
- Electric Whip

Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ(s):
- Two tribal tattoos on his v-lines
- A faint white tattoo on his back composed on swirls and lines that is faded now (given by Jax)
- Scarring on his right shoulder blade from being branded (given by corporation)
- Multiple faint scars from fights and brawls
- Thick and threaded scars from numerous lacerations on his arms

[Dae]

Nᴀᴍᴇ(s): Lucifer, Satan
Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s): Luce, The Devil, El Diablo

Aɢᴇ: Who knows anymore. Several thousand years at least.
Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: N/A

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Male
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Pansexual

Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs: Demon
Iᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Completely immortal, can only be killed by an arch angel, but even then it’s slight.
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Headmaster of Yokai


Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ:



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Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ: Clint Mauro
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 6’ 9"
Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 190 lbs
Hᴀɪʀ: Dark brown/Black
Sᴋɪɴ: Olive toned/ Pale
Eʏᴇs: Black
Bᴏᴅʏ: Tall and muscular, but lean.
Vᴏɪᴄᴇ: Deep and smooth, sultry and daring.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Lucifer is quite unpredictable, that’s for sure. Just like Daemon, his moods could go from happy and pleasant to pissed off and beyond angry in a flash. He’s got a short temper, and won’t hesitate to do something rash if he thinks it will benefit himself or his children. He’s also not afraid to choose favorites, and his children, the sins, know that. He’s quite scary when he wants to be.
Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ(s): Extremely intelligent, great leader
Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss(ᴇs): Pisses people off easily, doesn’t care for hurt feelings

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ: Lucifer’s story up until Yokai has already been explained in the history. After creating Yokai and his sins, Lucifer assumed the role as headmaster so he could oversee his new safe haven and his children that chose to stay inside of it.
Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(s):
Seven Deadly Sins

Pᴇᴛ(s): None

Fɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ Sᴋɪʟʟ(s): He uses his wit and extensive powers, but more often than not, he’s on the defensive rather than the offensive.
Mᴀɢɪᴄ(s): Power over the dead, Shadows, Ice
Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s): Sword , Staff
Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ(s): Burn marks around his wrists

Oᴛʜᴇʀ:
He has a rather peculiar relationship with Daemon

[Mercedes]

Nᴀᴍᴇ(s): Melody Marie Davidson

Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s): Mel

Aɢᴇ: 31

Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: July 21

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Female

Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Heterosexual

Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs: Fire Wolf

Iᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Not Immortal

Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Yokai Professor. Student Council Director.


Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Mel is average height standing at about 5'5". Her fiery red hair stands out in stark contrast to her alabaster skin. Her hair is long, falling in blood red waves down to the middle of her back. The only thing marring her nearly flawless teardrop-shaped face is a light dusting of freckles on her rosy cheeks. Stunning blue eyes compliment her pale skin. Despite her slender frame, Melody is pretty muscular and well toned in that respect. Her breasts have swelled since she graduated high school and is now quite the MILF.



Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ: Evan Rachel Wood

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5'5"

Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 115 lbs

Hᴀɪʀ: Bright Red

Sᴋɪɴ: Pale

Eʏᴇs: Blue

Bᴏᴅʏ: Slender

Vᴏɪᴄᴇ: Undecided

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Melody is a bit of a know-it-all. OK, maybe a lot of a know-it-all. Now that she's older, she's gotten better at being not-so-bitchy. She's often seen as stern, but encouraging. She's exhausted all of her energy into her "no fail" policy and her son. However, if her policy is taken advantage of, you better bet your ass that she'll make your life in her class hell.
Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ(s): intelligence, confidence, encouraging attitude

Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss(ᴇs): Her son, push over, easily annoyed.
Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ: Melody Davidson is a former student of Yokai academy. She gradated top of her class and with every imaginable honors award. Enjoying her time there too much to go into the real world, she decided to take the job as Elemental Studies teacher. She has a son a named Aspen, whom she is always trying to encourage to do his best and participate in school events. She's not exactly one of those parents that lives vicariously through her child'; she just wants the best for her baby.
Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(s):

» Nᴀᴍᴇ ﹣Valorie Cox- Davidson (Mother-graduated)

Dalton Davidson (Father-graduated)
Aspen Davidson (Son)
Pᴇᴛ(s): none

Fɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ Sᴋɪʟʟ(s): Melody is fierce, but not so much so in confrontational situations. She’s most likely to either avoid a fight or start one unintentionally.

Mᴀɢɪᴄ(s): Transforms into a firewolf on whim.

Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s): none

Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ(s): none

Oᴛʜᴇʀ:

[Grayson, Papa Gray]

“After all that anger, violence and death, you have to dig deep to see if you’re still sane or if you can call yourself human.”

Nᴀᴍᴇ(s): Jozef Malachai
Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ(s): Jo

Aɢᴇ: 23
Bɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: October 23

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Male
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Heterosexual, though has homosexual tendencies.

Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs: Human infused with demon powers
Iᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: None
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Illegal Fight Club Leader, part time detective.


Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ:
Jozef is a muscular man with a slender stature and squared face. He is an average height and build with a stern face and leering scowl. His signature appearance is a grey tank top, a red pendant, a ¾ leather jacket with a Union Jack on the shoulder, ripped jeans, and boots.



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Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ: Dante from Devil May Cry 5
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5’10
Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 153
Hᴀɪʀ: Brown
Sᴋɪɴ: Tan
Eʏᴇs: Steel Blue
Bᴏᴅʏ: Muscular
Vᴏɪᴄᴇ: Heavily gritty and extremely British. Very rough and raspy.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Jozef is a smarmy smart ass with no apologies for being that way. He is arrogant and stubborn, always needing his way to happen. The bastard is tenacious and sarcastic, very unrelenting when it comes to something he wants.

Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ(s): He is hardworking and completely loyal to whatever he believes in. Once you get to know him, he’s funny and lovable.

Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss(ᴇs): He isn’t afraid to do what needs to be done, even if it’s seen as unpopular. His humor and personality is rather hard to digest.

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ:



Jozef is a rather complex creature with a complicated past. He was born in London, England to a British fashion designer and a Greek drifter. His mother, Elise, was incredibly regal and a bit fragile, always a quiet smile and background figure. His father, Nikos, was a rough Grecian nomad, traveling with the wind and having to fight for survival. Elise's gentle touch and kind smile tamed Nikos's wild and feral ways, settling them down where they got married and had four beautiful children: two girls, and two boys. The two girls were beautiful, like dolls, smooth skinned with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The elder of the two, Victoria, was timid and a bit shy, conservative in her views. The younger, Elizabeth, was a beaming child, welcoming and very happy. The youngest boy, Epik, was fair complected with dark grey hair and brilliant blue eyes, a very careful lad with acceptance and grace. The eldest child, a rapscallion trouble making boy named Jozef, took much after his father. He was olive skinned with green eyes and raking black hair and a mischievous grin.



His childhood was normal. Jozef looked after the younger children whilst Elise went to work at the company and Nikos dealt at the bar. He made sure that they stayed in line, did their chores, and played nice until their parents got home. It was a normal family. Loving and kind, all caring for one another. Every Saturday, Jozef was given a day off, his own free day to spend wherever he pleased. He spent most of his days in the gulley with other children, racing and playing for keeps. He was a natural, taking immediately after his father and usually returned to his home with easily made coin. One Saturday, none of the other boys showed up, and Jozef was forced to sit by the alley steps on his own. It was a boring evening, barely a breeze and little to no citizens on the streets. A large man approached him, a man with yellow eyes and a crooked smile. He wore black clothes and big boots, leaning over the boy as he sat. It was an offer he made. An offer that he would never lose at whatever competition he played again. At a price. The young Jozef didn't get the concept of consequences or what the large man even meant by prices and deals. Blindly, Jozef shook the man's hand, enthused with the thought that he'd never lose a single race again.



Jozef hurried home, excited at his new powers, skipping dinner to sleep in. He would have a busy day telling his family all about his advantage in the morning. It wasn't too late in the night whenever the scream occurred. Jozef shot out of bed, rushing down the hall. He was closest to young Elizabeth's room, and of course would be the first to arrive. What he saw was nothing of what he expected. The man was curled over his sister, tearing out her heart and chewing it viciously. He had sharp spines twisting up his back, curled horns and claws visible, black tail whipping back and forth. The filthy creature was a demon, devouring his little sister for her soul and her identity. The wicked thing laughed, disappearing to leave a horrified Jozef, a half eaten Elizabeth, and an unexplained murder.



Nikos and Elise ran in, followed closely by Epik and Victoria. They were met with a weeping Jozef, cradling the corpse of his baby sister, crying out that he could explain.They were in shock, not sure what to believe. Trembling, Victoria claimed Jozef was the murderer, and Elise slowly began to believe her daughter's words. Elise disowned Jozef and kicked him out of the house, Nikos along with them. Alone and without shelter, Nikos decided it was time to move back to Greece where they could live under the roof of Nikos's brother, Lukas.



There, in the crazy town of Rhodes, under the wings of two gamblers, Jozef was raised to party and hustle, learning very bad things at a very young age. He was a walking sex machine by the age of 17, a midnight Romeo who hustled pool and cards, and raced cars illegal for easily won money. Due to his gift, it was hard to lose. The man was living it up, getting drunk every night, pissing every day away, and repeating the process. He had no care in the world. That is, until he got caught by the cops and his father was shot in the process.



Jozef sobered up a little, deciding the carefree drifter lifestyle wasn't in his blood. Lukas drifted on after Nikos's death, settling happily in Barcelona. Having no tether to Greece now, Jozef set his course for America, wanting to make a new name for himself. It wasn't until he found his little brother again in the United States that he decided it would be worth toughing it out at Yokai Academy. He still is searching for that demon. For revenge. And he won't rest until he finds him.



Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(s):
(view spoiler)[» Markaus Volkrov ﹣The felon that has escaped his grasp many, many times; His first gay lover; His friend; His occasional enemy.



» Epik Malachai - His little brother; Student at Yokai; Good friend.



»Elise Malachai - His mother, fashion designer, valkyrie.



»Nikos Malachai - His father, Greek drifter; deceased.



»Victoria Malachai - Younger sister, model, not on good terms.



»Elizabeth Malachai - Youngest sister; deceased.


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Pᴇᴛ(s): None. Doesn’t want the responsibility.

Fɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ Sᴋɪʟʟ(s):
- Swordsmanship
- Automatic Weaponry
- Firearms
- Hand-to-Hand Combat

Mᴀɢɪᴄ(s):
-Tattoo that heals
-Slight demon powers

Wᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ(s):
- Dual Pistols
- Longsword
- Knives

Mᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ(s):
-A few faint scars from fights
- White Sword Tattoo across the back


Other:
- Smokes, drinks, and cusses like a sailor.

“Face your demons. If you turn your back, the buggers get sodding cocky."