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Description

MANUSCRIPT | GALLERY | MOODBOARD

I'VE SEEN FINER GODS THAN YOU, CHILD,
& I'VE SWALLOWED THEM WHOLE.

Name: Emeritus, of house Imperator.
Nickname: any you can think of.
Age: unknown, guestimates put him in his late 30s or older 40s, good skin care keeps the kids guessing.
Gender: nonbinary - amab.

Pronouns: he/him & they/them.
Breed: Kirin (Mangalarga Marchador build).
Colour: Dominant White, has a thin but silky coat.
Height: 16.3 hh.
Orientation: Gay.
Teke Color: A nebula like mixture of pale greens.

Voice: Possesses a very smooth, musical and sonorous voice. Tends to speak quietly in the presence of others, forcing those who listen to do so intently. Unfortunately for the procrasinator and class flunks, they rarely hear such a tone, for them his voice contorts, motivation in the form of a fright, shrill rasping and one very accurate chalkboard eraser accompanyment. Literally the bane of sleep depraved graduates nightmares.

Herd Affiliation: Cosmos.
Rank: Coronas { Eclipse / Cultist }.

Familiar: Byzantine, dragon. Kind of a huge wang, students "lovingly" refer to him as an 'excellent crunch time study motivator'.
Relatives:
Circe — mother [ alive ]
Acrisius — father [ deceased ]

Erebus — brother [ older , alive ]

Jocasta — sister [ younger, alive ]

OPEN FOR RELATIVE RELATIONS.

Lovers: OPEN FOR ROMANTIC PARTNERS.
Children: n/a.

Theme Song: Blood Tears .

Alignment: Neutral Evil.

Affinity: Fire.

Talents:

Celestial Cloud [ ancestral trait, locked ]

Cosmic [ locked ]

Personality

Imposing with a penchant for Unnerving the weak willed. Soft Spoken but hardly a push over, chooses their words and delivery carefully. Absolutely uses it to assert dominance in a situation.

Calculating and Observant to the bone, considers everything before acting. Insatiable and Rarely Satisfied, hungers to take everything apart and know it's secrets.

Loyal to a close and precious few, Unyielding and Unflappable in everything they do.

A whole lot of grim ostentatious given form, adores employing theatrics to just about everything.

The sort of individual that could rally the strong willed and wither the weak. Emeritus is an imposing, dark figure right out of modern day nightmares, complete with a soul crushing collection of study material and obscure factoids. Carved in copper accented marble, seemingly unable to invoke any other expression except severe, even in the presence of beloved individuals. Critically acclaimed and naturally gifted, the never ending stream of compliments, praise and overflowing accolades, have given him a sense of superiority and entitlement modest equines would balk and pale at in a social setting. Peppered richly voracious hunger to devour any and all things which he does and does not understand. Even the things he inevitably deems bland and incosequential trash, they provide excellent reading on the morning rush hour commute.

Emeritus deploys a meticulous tapestry of imagery to his existence, warping it around himself to intrigue the masses, but truthfully to the enjoyment of himself most of all. Fascinated by Aeon's more darker, ambigious magics, and secrets. He would sooner paint an image of cold ash, void and twisting illusions than one of warmth and hope, and tender feelings. The dark and unknown is above all, seductive and intriguing. Many would choose to sooner stand in the rays of the sun than understand and accept the long shadow, and Emeritus exists to provide such balance, and in doing so, pass it onto the next generation of hopeful Magi. One must push and press against the confines of nature, morality and social constructs in order to discover and become more.

Despite his austere appearance and dour attitude, Emeritus is passionate, and capable of great expression albeit in unusual and subtle ways. He is loyal, diligent and driven to the point of distinction. His students praise his classes and unorthodox teaching methods { his yearly introductory "hey kids, wanna see a dead body breakdance" is a classic fondly remembered by his alumni }. Their friends find themselves thankful for a quiet, meaningful shoulder and no nonsense advice, even if they don't like what they're being served. If you're not convinced, well, you just might end up as next semesters honorary dancing dead. There's a waitlist you know, but he can make exceptions.

History
being secondborn usually means you get spoiled, being the middle child gets you diagnosed with fluctuating invisiblility and a complex. Emeritus is { apparently } ten years younger than his elder sibling, and only three years older than his youngest, his mother and father never heard of equal spacing for adequate spoiling between bouncing bundles of delights. Whatever Emeritus lacked in familial love was more than made up in other ways , but Emeritus has never divulged much of his personal life nor his youth. It'd break the lovely, gripping scene he's set for himself, he says.

He says he's close with his sister and brother, once over a glass of wine, and their public appearances together seem to back this up. Not much can be said about mother dearest, who all three seem to agree with being an acquired, eccentric motherly figure whose achievements aren't something to sniff at either. Her appearances are far rarer but no less grand. When asked about their father, they all wear a similarly eerie, bemused smile with too many teeth. Ah, what a shame about dear old dad, you know I never knew Cetus' could do that.

what the populace, high and low do know, is that Emeritus is an obscure character by nature and nurture, Imperators are as notoriously hard to befriend as they are dramatic — and the friends they do have sing their praises lavishly without giving precious detail, something the elite perpetuate with their never ending rumor mills. An accomplished Magi in their own right, their considerable pile of accolades, certificates and findings pinned, polished and carefully displayed in their University office { and the family residence }, carry the weight of their complex and unnerving ego. It keeps them on every guest list going, and their extra curricular seminars booked full. Their classes at the Triumvirate are wonderfully imformative, theatrical and thrilling, feeding the voracious, curious and hopeful youth with the tools they need to conquer and question tomorrow. Daring to question life and magic as they know it. Students across the campus , who aren't part of his classes, often have wonderful { and occasionally terrifying } things to say about them too, but all work in their favour in the end.

Occasionally individuals whisper of seeing him in the low town, little snippets of oxide green and pale speckled coat beneath a heavily embroidered cloak. Blink and you miss it, vanishing into nothingness, as if swallowed by a black hole.

Who are they really? What are they doing?

Extra information

HOUSE IMPERATOR: the stamp of an Imperator is their macabre appearance and muted, severe colour palettes { 'think death, but make it sexy in an aesthetic way' }. But what makes them an Imperator, you ask, good question. House Imperator is known as a House of Magi, Systems and the once in a generation eccentric { even by their standards } but well meaning Creative. An ancient and well worn house, relevance is par for the course for each and every Imperator, no matter the field they take to, obscurity is a fate worse than death, in their opinion. Those that fail to exceed expectations are quietly married off in lucrative arrangements, often to houses with considerable wealth or equal recognition, with the hope that the next generation will redeem the former.

art credit: queerly

Description

MANUSCRIPT | GALLERY | MOODBOARD

I'VE SEEN FINER GODS THAN YOU, CHILD,
& I'VE SWALLOWED THEM WHOLE.

Name: Emeritus, of house Imperator.
Nickname: any you can think of.
Age: unknown, guestimates put him in his late 30s or older 40s, good skin care keeps the kids guessing.
Gender: nonbinary - amab.

Pronouns: he/him & they/them.
Breed: Kirin (Mangalarga Marchador build).
Colour: Dominant White, has a thin but silky coat.
Height: 16.3 hh.
Orientation: Gay.
Teke Color: A nebula like mixture of pale greens.

Voice: Possesses a very smooth, musical and sonorous voice. Tends to speak quietly in the presence of others, forcing those who listen to do so intently. Unfortunately for the procrasinator and class flunks, they rarely hear such a tone, for them his voice contorts, motivation in the form of a fright, shrill rasping and one very accurate chalkboard eraser accompanyment. Literally the bane of sleep depraved graduates nightmares.

Herd Affiliation: Cosmos.
Rank: Coronas { Eclipse / Cultist }.

Familiar: Byzantine, dragon. Kind of a huge wang, students "lovingly" refer to him as an 'excellent crunch time study motivator'.
Relatives:
Circe — mother [ alive ]
Acrisius — father [ deceased ]

Erebus — brother [ older , alive ]

Jocasta — sister [ younger, alive ]

OPEN FOR RELATIVE RELATIONS.

Lovers: OPEN FOR ROMANTIC PARTNERS.
Children: n/a.

Theme Song: Blood Tears .

Alignment: Neutral Evil.

Affinity: Fire.

Talents:

Celestial Cloud [ ancestral trait, locked ]

Cosmic [ locked ]

Personality

Imposing with a penchant for Unnerving the weak willed. Soft Spoken but hardly a push over, chooses their words and delivery carefully. Absolutely uses it to assert dominance in a situation.

Calculating and Observant to the bone, considers everything before acting. Insatiable and Rarely Satisfied, hungers to take everything apart and know it's secrets.

Loyal to a close and precious few, Unyielding and Unflappable in everything they do.

A whole lot of grim ostentatious given form, adores employing theatrics to just about everything.

The sort of individual that could rally the strong willed and wither the weak. Emeritus is an imposing, dark figure right out of modern day nightmares, complete with a soul crushing collection of study material and obscure factoids. Carved in copper accented marble, seemingly unable to invoke any other expression except severe, even in the presence of beloved individuals. Critically acclaimed and naturally gifted, the never ending stream of compliments, praise and overflowing accolades, have given him a sense of superiority and entitlement modest equines would balk and pale at in a social setting. Peppered richly voracious hunger to devour any and all things which he does and does not understand. Even the things he inevitably deems bland and incosequential trash, they provide excellent reading on the morning rush hour commute.

Emeritus deploys a meticulous tapestry of imagery to his existence, warping it around himself to intrigue the masses, but truthfully to the enjoyment of himself most of all. Fascinated by Aeon's more darker, ambigious magics, and secrets. He would sooner paint an image of cold ash, void and twisting illusions than one of warmth and hope, and tender feelings. The dark and unknown is above all, seductive and intriguing. Many would choose to sooner stand in the rays of the sun than understand and accept the long shadow, and Emeritus exists to provide such balance, and in doing so, pass it onto the next generation of hopeful Magi. One must push and press against the confines of nature, morality and social constructs in order to discover and become more.

Despite his austere appearance and dour attitude, Emeritus is passionate, and capable of great expression albeit in unusual and subtle ways. He is loyal, diligent and driven to the point of distinction. His students praise his classes and unorthodox teaching methods { his yearly introductory "hey kids, wanna see a dead body breakdance" is a classic fondly remembered by his alumni }. Their friends find themselves thankful for a quiet, meaningful shoulder and no nonsense advice, even if they don't like what they're being served. If you're not convinced, well, you just might end up as next semesters honorary dancing dead. There's a waitlist you know, but he can make exceptions.

History
being secondborn usually means you get spoiled, being the middle child gets you diagnosed with fluctuating invisiblility and a complex. Emeritus is { apparently } ten years younger than his elder sibling, and only three years older than his youngest, his mother and father never heard of equal spacing for adequate spoiling between bouncing bundles of delights. Whatever Emeritus lacked in familial love was more than made up in other ways , but Emeritus has never divulged much of his personal life nor his youth. It'd break the lovely, gripping scene he's set for himself, he says.

He says he's close with his sister and brother, once over a glass of wine, and their public appearances together seem to back this up. Not much can be said about mother dearest, who all three seem to agree with being an acquired, eccentric motherly figure whose achievements aren't something to sniff at either. Her appearances are far rarer but no less grand. When asked about their father, they all wear a similarly eerie, bemused smile with too many teeth. Ah, what a shame about dear old dad, you know I never knew Cetus' could do that.

what the populace, high and low do know, is that Emeritus is an obscure character by nature and nurture, Imperators are as notoriously hard to befriend as they are dramatic — and the friends they do have sing their praises lavishly without giving precious detail, something the elite perpetuate with their never ending rumor mills. An accomplished Magi in their own right, their considerable pile of accolades, certificates and findings pinned, polished and carefully displayed in their University office { and the family residence }, carry the weight of their complex and unnerving ego. It keeps them on every guest list going, and their extra curricular seminars booked full. Their classes at the Triumvirate are wonderfully imformative, theatrical and thrilling, feeding the voracious, curious and hopeful youth with the tools they need to conquer and question tomorrow. Daring to question life and magic as they know it. Students across the campus , who aren't part of his classes, often have wonderful { and occasionally terrifying } things to say about them too, but all work in their favour in the end.

Occasionally individuals whisper of seeing him in the low town, little snippets of oxide green and pale speckled coat beneath a heavily embroidered cloak. Blink and you miss it, vanishing into nothingness, as if swallowed by a black hole.

Who are they really? What are they doing?

Extra information

HOUSE IMPERATOR: the stamp of an Imperator is their macabre appearance and muted, severe colour palettes { 'think death, but make it sexy in an aesthetic way' }. But what makes them an Imperator, you ask, good question. House Imperator is known as a House of Magi, Systems and the once in a generation eccentric { even by their standards } but well meaning Creative. An ancient and well worn house, relevance is par for the course for each and every Imperator, no matter the field they take to, obscurity is a fate worse than death, in their opinion. Those that fail to exceed expectations are quietly married off in lucrative arrangements, often to houses with considerable wealth or equal recognition, with the hope that the next generation will redeem the former.

art credit: queerly