Personal Name: Zancrow Windcaller Age: Thirty-Four Gender: Male Class: Berserker Rank: D-rank Guild: Lamia Scale Tattoo: Center back Face: Xanxus | Reborn Appearance Height: 7'3" | 8'3" (Lycan Transformation) Weight: 248lbs | 400lbs (Lycan Transformation) Hair: Black Eyes: Crimson Overall: Even for a man of his age, Zancrow has kept his body in excellent physical condition for nearly twenty years. This is alluded to by his constant training and taking up of arduous tasks, although there may be more to it than that, as some may speculate. He is quite muscular, as his well-defined torso and legs seem to be accentuated in almost all clothing. Because of this, his attire is almost always simple, yet formal. However, it is by no means that he is neither athletic or flexible; his athleticism is as good as a well-trained gymnast, in thanks to constant stretching and rare runs of parkour. Normally Zancrow's hair is cut short and spiky, jet black and unkempt with buzz cuts at the sides. Often times the length of the hair will grow down more to his shoulders, filling in the buzz cut and overall not being as spiky as before. However his calm crimson eyes remain as they always have been, even when enraged; they never seem to have a sparkle of vigor and life, unless the light directly hits them. His body is adorned with scars reminiscent of burns, scars gained from a horrific incident in the not-so-young man's past. However in a sense it adds to his intimidation factor. As expected of a man of his stature, his very well endowed. The man's attire is never very complex, favoring well-tailored suits that are worn out of pleasure and leisure. The suits mostly consist of a black blazer, a white buttoned down, long sleeved shirt, slim blacks slacks accompanied by a brown belt, and ultimately a modest pair of brown loafers. The ties alternate in color, or otherwise Zancrow will not wear any. He also may wear the long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, the top button undone, and a more sporty pair of shoes to give himself a casual appearance. Oftentimes the man may resort to casual street clothing; when preparing for missions or foreseeing a battle ahead, Zancrow will opt for sweatpants of varying color and a simple t-shirt. His Lycan transformation will stretch and tear away at most clothing, save for the sweatpants, which will stretch out to accommodate his transformed physique. Going shirtless and exposing his scars is no problem for Zancrow, as he finds it much more easy on transformations and not destroying his buttoned shirts and blazers, although his T-shirts can be torn an innumerable amount of times. He usually finds a way to stitch them up on his spare time. Whenever on long travels, he will adorn whatever clothing fits, but mainly a long, black, high-collared and tattered cloak with shoulder plates that belonged to his father at one point. Upon transformation, Zancrow's body takes a larger, more muscular, and overall more wolf-like appearance. Instead of the common white fur of normal werewolves, his fur becomes black as night; his hands become more defined and cruel in their appearance, claw-bearing and full of strong veins. His hair grows out to be very shaggy and more unkempt, his teeth more sharp and in tune to his predatory side. His eyes appear more wolfish, although still retaining the bloodcurdling crimson red hue. There is little humanity that can be seen within his eyes, although Zancrow is (almost always) in full control of his transformations. Extra: Zancrow often has bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. Even though he could eventually regain his composure and fix his sleeping habits, the bags can remain for weeks at a time. He is unsure as to why this occurs. His voice is deep and commanding, as what would be expected for a man of his stature and height. Zancrow'a Magic Power is white in color, whenever expressed outwardly or sensed by those with the power to. Personality Personality: Zancrow is seen as an enigmatic man who prefers to keep a solitary livelihood. He grew up with few friends, but that was because he liked the company of few. However, he does have the capacity to be open and friendly, although not quite the social butterfly. Few things will make him step from his quiet demeanor to speak, although whether he speaks or not is truly on his whim and whether he feels that he has to speak for anything or to anyone. At one point in his life he was very lively and approachable as an individual, but after the death of his wife he has grown more humble and silent. He seems to carry an "I don't care" attitude about himself, disregarding most, if not all, offensive comments about his being or character. Having grown up under heavy scrutiny he just stopped caring altogether. Although he may have adopted this way of thinking over several years, by nature his Lycan blood can make him hot-headed. If he were to lose his cool completely, not even Zancrow could stop his own transformation, wrought upon by extreme rage and anger. There is no such thing as "good" or "evil" in the eyes of Zancrow; there are only those who oppose his interests and those who do not. Playing favorites is not beyond his means of enacting on his plans, although he will seldom take advantage of others. Motives and objectives must be met in his eyes, and although he is seldom to sacrifice team mates to fulfill mission criteria, it is not past his method of operation to do so. While under his transformed state, Zancrow becomes very aggressive and violent. Although he can still distinguish between friend and foe, his wolfish demeanor while hunting and in battle may lead others to believe otherwise. His overall behavior seems to mimic that of a wolf altogether, for obvious reasons. Likes:
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Magic Magic Name: Fenrir Magic Element: Wind Magic Description: Fenrir (フェンリル,Fenriru) is a Caster Magic that utilizes the elements of wind and a variation of Wind Magic. This variant of Wind Magic enables its users to amplify their physical capabilities to exceed that of normal mages. This magic also enables its users to generate wind, as well as to manipulate the wind around them. Fenrir uses the vocalization of primordial powers that lay dormant in the user's genes. Utilization of this energy is then molded into powerful magical effects, usually for offensive purposes, by howling. The user is also able to cast buffs to their strength and endurance with this ability, and rarely supplementary abilities. Offensive spells cast by this magic are weak to the power of earthen magic, but dominate lightning-based magic. (Buff spells by this magic are done through howling; offensive and supplementary magics vary in how they are cast) History History: Zancrow was born under a full moon, to two proud parents who would raise their son away from the scornful eyes of mankind. They were werewolves and for some time, a part of a community of werewolves that made sure everyone had each others' backs. The pack was his literal family, and his life living with his family was all that the young boy had known. Much had been tough for him, such as pursuing an education and fitting in with society when it came to going into towns for provisions or simply for school. Such a life was managable for Zancrow, and at some points, he actually liked that way of living. However... all good things must come to their end. On the eve of his ninth birthday, his pack was attacked by a roving band of vampire thralls. Usually the pack would fend them off without showing any effort, but the actual vampires who conjured them also showed up. This was a code blue, the most dangerous signification of danger to the pack, as it meant that vampires were inbound or already in presence. Zancrow's father, Talos, and the rest of his male relatives did their best to buy the family some time while they ran from the vampires. However, the vampires were too strong, and they were all cut down. The pack made it as far as the outskirts of Crocus before the vampires found them. It was a massacre by textbook definition: although the Lycans held their own for a brief moment, the sheer volume of thralls and vampires made sure that there would be no survivors. Or at the least, that's what they thought. Zancrow had made his way to the bright city and lived much of his youth as a street urchin, aware of the fate of his family and the present danger if he were to leave city grounds. He grew up with an early growth spurt, towering over most adolescents of his age by the time he was fifteen. Work was not very difficult to find, although they were hard and made for those to carry out physical labor. Being a Lycan, his genes made it possible for him to perform even the toughest of work. Soon he earned his money and was on his way of making a living. He had the fortunate chance of meeting a woman of his age on the day of his twentieth birthday, a slender woman named Aurelis who grew fond of Zancrow's presence. They got married at the age of twenty-two, and moved out of town to Orchidia to start a new life. Aurelis was aware of Zancrow's past, and was also vigilant in case vampires came by. She still loved her husband for who he was at heart. The move was a success, and the two were comfortable living peacefully together. Fate is not a kind being to Zancrow, and it would come to ruin him. On their seventh anniversary, the couple decided to have a celebration indoors, for it was too cold to go out as they usually did. Everything seemed very calm and relaxed without a sign of the imminent doom that was about to occur. Four figures broke into the windows of the house in the dead of night, altering the couple as they cozied up on each other in front of their open fire. Before Zancrow could transform he was knocked unconscious. The last things he heard were the hissing of vampires and the screaming of his wife. Morning came and his wife's pale, lifeless body was laid across the rug on the floor. The vampires that attacked left no drop of blood, and nothing was stolen, save for the life of a proud woman. Zancrow hated that he was dispatched so easily and kept dead while his wife was the main target of the attack. After burying her, he lamented on his inability to properly defend his wife. This thinking lead to the night his family was slaughtered, and an overwhelming sense of weakness overwhelmed him. Seeing as he needed to become stronger, he decided to join the local guild Lamia Scale to improve his abilities. He has been there since, working on the side as a suit tailor. |
Last edited by Zancrow Miyazaki on Sun Oct 23, 2016 7:00 pm; edited 1 time in total