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Description

Personal
Name: Crowley Knight

Gender: boyo

Age: appears 15

Location: Salem, Massachusetts

Birthday: December 1

Height: 5’7 /170 cm

Weight: 115lbs

Species: Reaper
  Abilities: Presently, Crow has very limited access to his abilities as a reaper. These currently include being able to sense (seeing/hearing/recognizing) spirits and being capable of attempting to help them find peace in order to pass over. He is overcome by an anxiousness while in the vicinity of one whose time is nearly up, though he is unaware to the source of his anxiety. Occasionally, he will have 'lucid nightmares' involving the dead seeking him out, or vice versa, unwittingly performing small reaping tasks. Should he ever come into contact with one who is on death's door or freshly deceased, their lifeline would become visible to him.

Academics

Year: 2

Dorm: Battenkill

Club: Photography
Sport: Tennis

Biography

Personality:

+ Loyal + Receptive + Thoughtful + Intuitive + Dependable

- Chicken - Tentative - Bashful - Trusting - Transparent

Likes and Dislikes:

   cathedrals, hazelnut coffee, sour candy, hats, photo ops, lore/mythology, mysteries

   spooky places/cemeteries- especially after dark, monsters, confrontations, mind games, nightmares, seances

History:

Reapers, as we know, have been around for a very, very long time, minding their usual business of collecting expired souls and seeing them out to their next destination, wherever that may be. Not everyone is always content with their demise and ready to give up their time on earth so easily, of course, and throughout the eons, this particular reaper became fed up with the growing frequency of sniveling and begging, tricks and bargains many humans attempted in exchange for 'just a little more time'. Bend the rules once and suddenly no one wants to die when that 'lucky survivor' lives on to tell the tale about how he 'out-smarted death, that old haggard bag of bones.' Yeah, well, revenge is best served cold, as they say. What worth did souls have anyway, when so many squandered their lifetimes and robbed others of their own. What point was life at all if they did not cherish it while they still had time? Death was once viewed as inevitable, sometimes even something to be celebrated, but now, how ungrateful humans have become! Surely a small reminder was necessary. The reaper left a memo in the form of the Black Plague, laying waste to the thousands, and yet still they cursed and feared death all the same, if not more! They wailed and shook their fists at the sky, crediting some 'higher being' for their sins, which got the reaper to thinking. He took a time-out to ponder over things, over what might have been overlooked, then came to the conclusion that maybe if something a little less out of their power was implemented, a tiny push from mortal hands, then just maybe...

Salem, spring of 1692. The reaper pored over the affairs of this small village before playing his cards, planting falsities and paranoia that would blossom into the hysteria preluding to the infamous Salem Witch Trials. Whether this design of his had played to fruition was never seen, for there had been others who'd caught wind of these less than subtle acts, others like him. The reaper was detained and reproached by his kin for slandering their image and neglecting his duties entirely. They were adamant in bestowing such a punishment that rivaled his childish actions, and in what better way than to send him to live amongst those he was so eager to play with.

With his memories of being a reaper buried, he was sentenced to do his time on earth, 'born' as a human baby so that he might one day come to learn the complexities of people, of life; about the nurturing and care these beings require, and how they will grow as they please before the time of their sowing.

---------

As memory serves, there have always been cues in Crow's life indicative to the possibility that maybe he wasn't quite as normal as he originally believed. They were subtle in the beginning, hushed whispers he brushed off as being 'just the wind', shadows playing tricks on his eyes, an overactive imagination- subtle, until they weren't.. Once an outgoing kid, his social life took a turn when an eeriness began to linger, cloaking him with a palpable paranoia as the sensation of eyes gnawed at the cusp of his awareness at every turn. Sounds; creaks and scuffs across the floorboards, incoherent conversations in his closet; ghostly apparitions lurking just out of sight; items misplaced. Misplaced like my sanity, he thought fearfully for a time, wallowing all the while in doubt and self-pity as he awaited the day that it'd slip away completely. That day wouldn't come soon enough, but instead, a particularly peculiar girl did, pink hair and googly-eye earbobs, ordering her usual cup of 'mocha, hold the coffee' from the family's Broom Closet cafe.

You're not crazy, she'd informed him, somehow convincingly despite whirling marshmallow ghosts into her chocolatey brew with a tiny signature broom stir stick, You're sensitive.

Juniper was her name, and a fast friend. She taught him more about his 'predicament', about how peering through the paranormal veil was still relatively, in a word, normal. If anything, it was a bit weak, in terms of magic and witchcraft and all things supernatural, as he would discover through their friendship. That, with a little bit of patience and a lot of guidance, Crow was able to learn to live with his developing abilities and even help a spirit or few pass to the other side, even if they do still give him the heebie-jeebies. Somewhere along the way, he managed to pick up a couple protective spells to ward off anything particularly nasty that they might encounter. Safety measures, she assured him, can never be too prepared. But not all the spells or crystal balls could have prepared him for what she planned next.

Boarding school? All the way in Vermont!? After the thick and thin they've been through together, the things he wishes he'd never seen, and maybe a little bit of guilt-tripping, he decided he simply couldn't let her go into this alone! There was only one thing to do. Make room, Cinder Hall..!
Extra
- Hasn't the dizziest idea that he's a reaper, as of yet, his true potential has not been realized.

- Raised by an older adoptive couple, the Knights, who remain none the wiser to his identity as well.

- For a while he entertained the idea that he might be some kind of wizard or warlock or something, but has proven only to be a blunder and a menace to Juni's witching pantry.
- Can spot and recognize spirits for what they are.
- His hair wasn't always blue (originally black)- not until Juni tried out her experimental hairstyling dust on him instead of the cat. Thaanks, Juniii..
- His sn is Necrowmancer, hardyharhar, he's not sorry.
- Doesn't photograph well; for some reason his face is always blurred or obscured in some way.. All the pics Juni has of him have little kitty face stickers stuck over his.

Roleplay Info

Docs and Discord are best. You can find me in the chat!

Description

Personal
Name: Crowley Knight

Gender: boyo

Age: appears 15

Location: Salem, Massachusetts

Birthday: December 1

Height: 5’7 /170 cm

Weight: 115lbs

Species: Reaper
  Abilities: Presently, Crow has very limited access to his abilities as a reaper. These currently include being able to sense (seeing/hearing/recognizing) spirits and being capable of attempting to help them find peace in order to pass over. He is overcome by an anxiousness while in the vicinity of one whose time is nearly up, though he is unaware to the source of his anxiety. Occasionally, he will have 'lucid nightmares' involving the dead seeking him out, or vice versa, unwittingly performing small reaping tasks. Should he ever come into contact with one who is on death's door or freshly deceased, their lifeline would become visible to him.

Academics

Year: 2

Dorm: Battenkill

Club: Photography
Sport: Tennis

Biography

Personality:

+ Loyal + Receptive + Thoughtful + Intuitive + Dependable

- Chicken - Tentative - Bashful - Trusting - Transparent

Likes and Dislikes:

   cathedrals, hazelnut coffee, sour candy, hats, photo ops, lore/mythology, mysteries

   spooky places/cemeteries- especially after dark, monsters, confrontations, mind games, nightmares, seances

History:

Reapers, as we know, have been around for a very, very long time, minding their usual business of collecting expired souls and seeing them out to their next destination, wherever that may be. Not everyone is always content with their demise and ready to give up their time on earth so easily, of course, and throughout the eons, this particular reaper became fed up with the growing frequency of sniveling and begging, tricks and bargains many humans attempted in exchange for 'just a little more time'. Bend the rules once and suddenly no one wants to die when that 'lucky survivor' lives on to tell the tale about how he 'out-smarted death, that old haggard bag of bones.' Yeah, well, revenge is best served cold, as they say. What worth did souls have anyway, when so many squandered their lifetimes and robbed others of their own. What point was life at all if they did not cherish it while they still had time? Death was once viewed as inevitable, sometimes even something to be celebrated, but now, how ungrateful humans have become! Surely a small reminder was necessary. The reaper left a memo in the form of the Black Plague, laying waste to the thousands, and yet still they cursed and feared death all the same, if not more! They wailed and shook their fists at the sky, crediting some 'higher being' for their sins, which got the reaper to thinking. He took a time-out to ponder over things, over what might have been overlooked, then came to the conclusion that maybe if something a little less out of their power was implemented, a tiny push from mortal hands, then just maybe...

Salem, spring of 1692. The reaper pored over the affairs of this small village before playing his cards, planting falsities and paranoia that would blossom into the hysteria preluding to the infamous Salem Witch Trials. Whether this design of his had played to fruition was never seen, for there had been others who'd caught wind of these less than subtle acts, others like him. The reaper was detained and reproached by his kin for slandering their image and neglecting his duties entirely. They were adamant in bestowing such a punishment that rivaled his childish actions, and in what better way than to send him to live amongst those he was so eager to play with.

With his memories of being a reaper buried, he was sentenced to do his time on earth, 'born' as a human baby so that he might one day come to learn the complexities of people, of life; about the nurturing and care these beings require, and how they will grow as they please before the time of their sowing.

---------

As memory serves, there have always been cues in Crow's life indicative to the possibility that maybe he wasn't quite as normal as he originally believed. They were subtle in the beginning, hushed whispers he brushed off as being 'just the wind', shadows playing tricks on his eyes, an overactive imagination- subtle, until they weren't.. Once an outgoing kid, his social life took a turn when an eeriness began to linger, cloaking him with a palpable paranoia as the sensation of eyes gnawed at the cusp of his awareness at every turn. Sounds; creaks and scuffs across the floorboards, incoherent conversations in his closet; ghostly apparitions lurking just out of sight; items misplaced. Misplaced like my sanity, he thought fearfully for a time, wallowing all the while in doubt and self-pity as he awaited the day that it'd slip away completely. That day wouldn't come soon enough, but instead, a particularly peculiar girl did, pink hair and googly-eye earbobs, ordering her usual cup of 'mocha, hold the coffee' from the family's Broom Closet cafe.

You're not crazy, she'd informed him, somehow convincingly despite whirling marshmallow ghosts into her chocolatey brew with a tiny signature broom stir stick, You're sensitive.

Juniper was her name, and a fast friend. She taught him more about his 'predicament', about how peering through the paranormal veil was still relatively, in a word, normal. If anything, it was a bit weak, in terms of magic and witchcraft and all things supernatural, as he would discover through their friendship. That, with a little bit of patience and a lot of guidance, Crow was able to learn to live with his developing abilities and even help a spirit or few pass to the other side, even if they do still give him the heebie-jeebies. Somewhere along the way, he managed to pick up a couple protective spells to ward off anything particularly nasty that they might encounter. Safety measures, she assured him, can never be too prepared. But not all the spells or crystal balls could have prepared him for what she planned next.

Boarding school? All the way in Vermont!? After the thick and thin they've been through together, the things he wishes he'd never seen, and maybe a little bit of guilt-tripping, he decided he simply couldn't let her go into this alone! There was only one thing to do. Make room, Cinder Hall..!
Extra
- Hasn't the dizziest idea that he's a reaper, as of yet, his true potential has not been realized.

- Raised by an older adoptive couple, the Knights, who remain none the wiser to his identity as well.

- For a while he entertained the idea that he might be some kind of wizard or warlock or something, but has proven only to be a blunder and a menace to Juni's witching pantry.
- Can spot and recognize spirits for what they are.
- His hair wasn't always blue (originally black)- not until Juni tried out her experimental hairstyling dust on him instead of the cat. Thaanks, Juniii..
- His sn is Necrowmancer, hardyharhar, he's not sorry.
- Doesn't photograph well; for some reason his face is always blurred or obscured in some way.. All the pics Juni has of him have little kitty face stickers stuck over his.

Roleplay Info

Docs and Discord are best. You can find me in the chat!