Remember me?
I am everything
you could not control
S Y N O V A
M O R T I F E R A
S h a d o w F o x || O l d G e r m a n i a n O r i g i n || ~500 y e a r s
"Syn" || "The Shade" || "That Damned Fox"
The Mortifera's Shadow
Bouncer of the Sanctum Café
> THE FOX varies in size: he is able to increase and decrease in size at will depending on the amount of darkness cast over the area. His figure can range from a small, ghost-like silhouette upon the wall, to a seemingly normal vupine, to a monstrous amalgam of eyes and teeth.
The shadow swirls and flicks like smoke every time the fox moves, not unlike a candle freshly blown out.
The darker the area and the thicker the shadow, the stronger and larger Synova can become.
> MILKY WHITE irises lack a pupil and to throw a white, lantern-like glow, which highlights a wry grin that remains a prominent feature etched across his carefully-chiseled features.
That grin,
that damned G R I N is hardly quick to fade
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- The fox has a f a c e -
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> There is not much to say of his "Dweller" form, or "Stolen Skin" as he calls it, for it was taken in a time of dire need. Synova snuffed out the life, the very soul that inhabited the body and claimed the shell as his own.
This humanoid shell stands at a height of approximately 5'10", and bares ink-black hair against pale physiognomy.
He has the EYES of a Fox: they are Striking gold in color with vertical pupils when he wishes them to be.
Charismatic ✔ Meticulous ✔ Bold ✔ Determined ✔
Egocentric X Presumptuous X Blatant X Audacious X
- - -
> IT IS needless to say that Synova is an incredibly sly, cunning, and quick creature. He will use his sharp skills to his advantage, and is known to manipulate others to his will.
He is a rather arrogant and oftentimes presumptuous individual who tends to prod at other people’s nerves using discreet tricks and sarcastic snaps to push his company to the limit. These are usually mere tests to see if they are "worthy" of his company, or could possibly be useful to him in some way, shape or form. Either that, or he simply finds you interesting.
Synova is not the sort who will easily resort to physical violence, and takes little pleasure in blood-drenched rampages. However, If one succeeds in crossing him, Syn will be more than willing to stoop to the lowest of lows to get back at them, using dirty tricks and debouched strategies to make the offender suffer sevenfold.
He enjoys the occasional cold-blooded hunt, but prefers to not waste the effort on needless activity
Synova is very intelligent and has a talent for strategic planning. Yet surprisingly, he is oftentimes incredibly lazy and bears a lack of moral motivation. He chooses to scheme, hunt, and "work" on his own, unless he knows he will be able to get something out of working with others. Never before has he helped another out of the "goodness of his heart." The Fox always has reasons behind everything he does. He lacks empathy for the most part, so he cares little for taking lives or putting others in danger to meet his own goals.
However, there are a few... particular, and exceedingly rare exceptions to this.
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Comments
[ Hey, no worries at all! I appreciate you taking the time to reach out and let me know. I hope things get a little less hectic for you. And if you ever want to start something up I'll be here :) ]
Thank you for the add xx
Nothing answered back the shade as it traversed the maze of streets, following what was thought to be the wind, a whisper, at every corner. It disappeared, only for the fox to see another memory come into existence. Located at the dead end of an alleyway, a lady stood frozen in fear, eyes wide and trained on the young Agnes in front of her, thirteen years old and aiming a pistol at the fuzzy image of the woman. A moment's hesitation, then as if right behind Synova.-
"What are you waiting for? Finish her off." Synova would see the same Japanese man, looming behind Agnes, a devil on her shoulder. He was furious, disappointed, where did this hesitation come from?
Bam. The woman disspitated like smoke, and Agnes peered down, as if her blood was splattered all over her. She was shaking, fear of what was to come, what punishment her mentor would have in store. A miasma began to settle at Synova's paws, a sentence repeated in a whisper and grew louder in screams until the shade couldn't bare to be in the area anymore.
"Weapons don't feel. Weapons don't feel. WEAPONS DON'T FEEL-"
Not too far from the fox, two figures with an air of ill intent followed the shade as he left the area. One was a man, the other a woman. The man was relatively tall with muscular build, wearing a black tank top and town up jeans, a lynx skull situated on his face with a pair of cat ears peeking out from a disheveled head of dark blue hair. The woman was much smaller but not any less athletic, her dark eyes and up were all that remained of her face, the rest was skeleton.
Bullets whizzed passed the fox's ears, a hunt would commence.
[ Hello! And you're very welcome! I'm not new to this site but this profile is new and I've just finished setting it up. Can I just say, very VERY cool character and concept. Wow! Not sure if you are accepting new threads but I'd love to plot if you're interested! ]
Locking eyes with that of Javier in a battle of wills, Robin remained steadfast in an unwillingness to capitulate, refusing to divert his gaze for even a second in case that should make him appear weak or otherwise inadequate. Not that he in any way sought the Spaniard's acclaim in this most ungentlemanly of matters, nay, he simply indulged a beastly predatory instinct to assert dominance over the man.
Meanwhile, each poisonous word spewed forth from said somebody's lips caused anger to swell in Robin’s chest, fed by memories of a more-than-a-little galling encounter some years ago, building like hot steam in a boiler, getting ready to blow if its expanse could not be contained, a seemingly failing effort as thoughts nonetheless drifted towards bloody murder and creative ways of realising such.
However, the younger vampire knew full well the penalty awaiting him should he allow a foolish notion like that to be more than just a mere fantasy – to spring into violent action and then ruin, as even if he were by some means successful in turning the object of his loathing into a pile of smouldering smoking ashes by his feet, he would still meet death in the end.
Indeed, as Robin understood it, to slay another of his kind unlawfully, even one as unruly and disrespectful as the one before him, was one of the grievest of crimes a member of their society could commit, as outlined in the so-called ‘traditions’ – rules Robin by now sadly could recite verbatim.
A queer notion that was, he thought, all things considered, having a law like that, as it happened on quite a nocturnal basis each and every night that one leech ended the existence of another. Even Robin had done so himself – slain his master thirteen years ago and freeing himself in the process.
Of course, doing the deed in broad, umm, nightlight was quite different from behind closed doors, as Robin had back then. Still, it seems that’s all his world has come to now, a web of deceit and hypocrisy spanning the night, with him trying desperately to cling to the concept that goodness will prevail in the end.
That said, Harker tried to keep his wits about him for now, no matter how loudly his heart cried out for the kill, which took just about all the willpower he had left in him, yet was it enough?
Also, to make it easier for himself, he decided to remove his being there from the equation altogether and simply gestured for his mysterious newfound companion Synova to follow in tow as he began to make his way inside the building, with mum’s the word in regards to Javier as he passed him by, attempting to ignore the man and his loud mouth odours completely.
However, as Robin positioned himself to enter through the nonexistent door, a mocking chuckle echoed through the neighbourhood, compelling him to stop despite what he’d vehemently promised himself.
"You can't hide your anger from me, hermano. Its stench is all over you, just as it was when I first met you in Prague. It weakens you," Javier sneered, feeding Robin’s wrath further. Still, he couldn’t give in – not now!
Only, he had no choice but to do so... as when Javier spoke next, he managed to melt all of Robin’s sensibilities all away with but a few words. “Oh, poor little Quincey.” he began, chuckling, “Interminably looking for the man that he killed, sucked dry like a drunkard at his wine bottle. Oh, you know, I am looking for him, too, you know? And once I find him, I shall indeed give him to you. Piece by piece, crowned by a pretty blue ribbon.” A grin formed on Javier’s lips to end his tirade, nearly stretching ear to ear.
After this, Robin did not know what happened. He had turned to lash out at the other vampire’s throat for daring to threaten his beloved Timothy with a blade raised high into the air that had been hiding within his pocket thus far. Beyond that, however, he couldn’t say, as all of a sudden, with a speed he could not comprehend, Robin found himself on the ground, in pain, with what looked like one of his ribs unceremoniously poking through his skin as well as his shirt, leaking red onto the pavement.
“Pathetic attempt, hermano,” Javier said with no attempt to hide his contempt for Robin nor his glee at seeing him humiliated and hurt this way.
Moving around like a wounded mouse trapped in a trap, Robin attempted to get up, only to feel a heavy boot pressing down on his sternum, keeping him down. “But I will grant you the favour of not taking your insolence further up the chain of command,” the other vampire said above him with giddiness to his voice, then continued, “Now, you better go on inside and take that pet of yours with you. I don’t dabble in that manner of low-effort blood magic, as it is a blatant disregard for the Masquerade. Not that I’m surprised to see such a thing from you, of course.”
At the end of his sentence, Javier looked towards Synova, though he could barely muster even as much as a smirk in acknowledgement of the tulpa’s presence, likely not believing him to even be sentient. Javier then spat at Robin and left without another word, his form disappearing behind a building down the street, likely to attend a mission of his own, whatever that be.
Getting to his feet, finally, Robin felt the heavy cloak of embarrassment fall around his shoulders, as well as the pain subsiding as he spent some blood in order to heal himself faster. Some comforts of undead life, though he could still not bring himself to form more words than the following to Synova in regards to what the shadowy fox had just witnessed; “I’m sorry you should have to see that.”
" You better stop complaining when we don't have the luxury to stay in a much more comfortable hotel. "
All those money went towards the infrastructure damages she did last time and the more she thought about it, the more frustrated she gets. She really needed to efficiently scale her own power to not do that again. It was just a pain in the ass. Then again, not like she could help it. Those bastards loved sending a lot of people on her.
" First of all, we're in a hotel and I'm not planning to stay for long. Second, cut that shit out because I ain't gonna pay for it, and third, stop bothering me. "
Fucking bullshit, why was everyone out to piss her off? All she wanted was to be alone and yet these people. . . and creatures would pop themselves out just to pounce at her out of nowhere. Fucking pricks.
The giggle he chased teased his ears like a breeze drifting away. The more the shade followed it, the deeper into a maze of alleyways he went. Until...silence, the shade was left in an allyway out toward a street, however the sound of a little girl sobbing quietly could be heard behind a dumpster, curled up and shivering. What he saw was a projection, like an old movie reel being played, the image of the weeping girl flickered. She looked about the age of eleven, the projection brought in a car that parked beside opening of the alleyway, three men in suits and slicked back hair approached the girl, two of their faces fizzled in static.
Fear and rage entwined as the shadows engulfed her form, turning the small girl into a grotesque monster. The wolf skull materialized under a cloud of shadow that formed into the body of a wolf the size of an eighteen-wheel truck. In the blink of an eye, the two men with static faces were cut in half, their legs fell limply to the ground with blood dripping from her maw. The third man was clearer than the other two, a Japanese man raising his arms in surrender. The words that left his mouth were hard to hear, as if spoken underwater, but it was enough to halt the approach of the girl, her frame shrank back to her human self as the shadows left her in a cloud of smoke.
The projection ended there, leaving the shade by himself. In the distance on the road, a few blocks down, two silhouettes ran by.
A chortle escaped the voice, one that reverberated the space around him. A figure began to appear, a girl with pale skin, raven colored hair spilling over her shoulders and floating as if underwater. She was in distance, floating in space, the features of her face was blurred. The more the shade focused on her the more the outline of a looming, colossal figure appeared behind her, something almost wolf-like, but would vanish once their attention shifted.
"It's a little too late for apologies, my dear. Game first, and food later!"
The voice seemed to be emanating from both the girl and the figure behind her in unison. The void around them phased to white, Synova's form could now be seen as fox-like, it made the girl giggle quietly. The figure behind her vanished completely. Her hand raised, pointing one finger up. If the fox chose to peer above him, he would see all of Manhattan upside down, falling toward him....faster...and faster, until he was met with the pavement and blacked out.
His vision would blur awake in an alley, the city he was running through just a moment ago was completely in black and white, the sky covered in storm clouds as gusts of winds came and went, weather just before a heavy storm. The voice that he heard just before rang in his head, however it was just the girl, whispering in an enticing manner.
"Come find me...little fox.~"
When Agnes sat down, Spencer was gazing at her steadily from behind the counter, cleaning a glass. "It's been a rough night, you should get some rest." Said the blonde-haired bartender, his hair was at medium length slightly disheveled, a pair of blue glasses sat casually on the bridge of his nose. Agnes looked a little exhausted as she stared at her drink.
"Maybe you're right, Spence." She muttered quietly, the bartender was like a surrogate father to her, having took her in as a delinquent on the streets begging for work. It was moments like these where she would reminisce-
Spencer would see Agnes' eyes going dark, her blue hues lost in black haze as her body slowly sunk as it went limp. The bartender immediately dropped the glass in his hands to catch the demoness and pull her over the counter with relative ease. His strength, something only Agnes knew about, showed for a split second as he did. The crack of the glass brought the attention of the customers to Spencer holding Agnes' unconscious body, hastily taking her upstairs to her apartment. When he arrived, he kicked open the door with his heel, not even the deadbolt lock could stop him as Spencer took Agnes to lay in her bed. Her "apartment" was an empty penthouse with one couch, a tv, and her bed due to the generosity of a certain vampire. Spencer pulled out his phone, calling the reinforcements that knew would help her.
---
It was dark.
A vice grip like no other held the shade still in a limitless void, an unseen force. Then...a voice, one that sounded like a unison of hers and something sinister.
A chortle was heard first.
"Well....what do we have here? A free meal? Or a free game just for us?"
The voice was hard to source a location, it was coming from everywhere.
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