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Description
(Interested in Roleplay!)

Taken Name - Lament

Age - Eighteen

Gender - Male

Status - Single

Weapon of Choice - Scalpel or Knife

Living Arrangement - Dormatory, No Roommate

Grade Application - First

Personality: Lament is mostly quiet, almost disturbingly so. It takes a lot to get on his bad side, but if you manage to piss him off, he'll break your thumbs.
Despite not being the type to goof off, Lament has a hard time paying attention during classes, mostly because he lacks motivation while he's just sitting in a classroom. He excels out in the field, however.
His chill attitude allows him to get along smoothly with other students, but he hardly ever engages in a direct conversation.

(Intense-Mega WIP )Basic History: Lament grew up in a way that most kids of his generation did. He had decent grades, got into mischief like all kids do, and was a bit of a punk.
Not that he actually meant to be one, people just stereo-typically assumed that he was one of 'those' kids. it wasn't really his fault that he looked sickly most of the time, he just had some bizarre case of insomnia. Very, little sleep.
He would stay up late, staring outside as loud noises erupted downstairs. If you haven't guessed it by now, you can assume that his parents didn't get along well. He'd almost enjoy listening. Hearing witty remarks from both his mother and father intrigued him. To this day, he'll still use some of the same retorts and come-backs that they used. However the less sleep he got, the more sickly he looked and the more his health actually suffered.
It got to the point where his parents actually made a team effort to get his some held. He was taken to a therapist after some calls were made. During their little sessions, his mind was often elsewhere, drowning in his imaginary world that his mind created.
The boy began ditching via the back exit after his mother dropped him off at his 'sessions'. As soon as she pulled out onto the main road, he'd dash off into the forest that surrounded the rather small town. His mental conditions grew worse as he began imagining people running or hiding among the trees. He's just sit and watch as they sat and watched him. They'd sit there until the boy realized his mother wold be coming soon.
Driven by some unknown urge, the young teenager snuck a pocketknife from one of the kitchen drawers later that evening. He couldn't figure out why, but he did it anyway.
Every time he went into the forest, he suffered from migraines. Though by this point that pain was almost addicting.
Though everything started to take a turn when he blacked out in the woods.
Before he knew what he'd done, the creature... no, the human, was struggling for breath, pinned underneath of him. What was happening and why couldn't he move? As if being controlled by a greater force, he grabbed the knife and brought it down multiple times in the creature's chest.
Why was this happening?

Roleplay example: Along the vacant street, footsteps eerily echoed. It was a relatively cold night and very few would be crazy enough to venture outside at such a time. The murky figure's pale blue eyes scanned the empty pavement for any sign of life. His skeletal frame was caressed by a thin layer of skin that had little to no radiance. This was all concealed by a dark coat that he had worn purposefully in order to avoid detection. The torn sides of his mouth erupted into cloud of smoke that was produced by a dwindling cigarette. "Shit..." he murmured and dropped the cigarette stomping it out. It was a bad habit, he knew that much. Though, it was a special occasion... Someone was going to die tonight.

Year Classes:

History of Myths
Dealing with the Paranormal: Year #1
Basic Medicine
Basic Diplomacy
Weaponry and Hand to Hand Combat: Year #1
Tracking
Hunting the Obscure

Description
(Interested in Roleplay!)

Taken Name - Lament

Age - Eighteen

Gender - Male

Status - Single

Weapon of Choice - Scalpel or Knife

Living Arrangement - Dormatory, No Roommate

Grade Application - First

Personality: Lament is mostly quiet, almost disturbingly so. It takes a lot to get on his bad side, but if you manage to piss him off, he'll break your thumbs.
Despite not being the type to goof off, Lament has a hard time paying attention during classes, mostly because he lacks motivation while he's just sitting in a classroom. He excels out in the field, however.
His chill attitude allows him to get along smoothly with other students, but he hardly ever engages in a direct conversation.

(Intense-Mega WIP )Basic History: Lament grew up in a way that most kids of his generation did. He had decent grades, got into mischief like all kids do, and was a bit of a punk.
Not that he actually meant to be one, people just stereo-typically assumed that he was one of 'those' kids. it wasn't really his fault that he looked sickly most of the time, he just had some bizarre case of insomnia. Very, little sleep.
He would stay up late, staring outside as loud noises erupted downstairs. If you haven't guessed it by now, you can assume that his parents didn't get along well. He'd almost enjoy listening. Hearing witty remarks from both his mother and father intrigued him. To this day, he'll still use some of the same retorts and come-backs that they used. However the less sleep he got, the more sickly he looked and the more his health actually suffered.
It got to the point where his parents actually made a team effort to get his some held. He was taken to a therapist after some calls were made. During their little sessions, his mind was often elsewhere, drowning in his imaginary world that his mind created.
The boy began ditching via the back exit after his mother dropped him off at his 'sessions'. As soon as she pulled out onto the main road, he'd dash off into the forest that surrounded the rather small town. His mental conditions grew worse as he began imagining people running or hiding among the trees. He's just sit and watch as they sat and watched him. They'd sit there until the boy realized his mother wold be coming soon.
Driven by some unknown urge, the young teenager snuck a pocketknife from one of the kitchen drawers later that evening. He couldn't figure out why, but he did it anyway.
Every time he went into the forest, he suffered from migraines. Though by this point that pain was almost addicting.
Though everything started to take a turn when he blacked out in the woods.
Before he knew what he'd done, the creature... no, the human, was struggling for breath, pinned underneath of him. What was happening and why couldn't he move? As if being controlled by a greater force, he grabbed the knife and brought it down multiple times in the creature's chest.
Why was this happening?

Roleplay example: Along the vacant street, footsteps eerily echoed. It was a relatively cold night and very few would be crazy enough to venture outside at such a time. The murky figure's pale blue eyes scanned the empty pavement for any sign of life. His skeletal frame was caressed by a thin layer of skin that had little to no radiance. This was all concealed by a dark coat that he had worn purposefully in order to avoid detection. The torn sides of his mouth erupted into cloud of smoke that was produced by a dwindling cigarette. "Shit..." he murmured and dropped the cigarette stomping it out. It was a bad habit, he knew that much. Though, it was a special occasion... Someone was going to die tonight.

Year Classes:

History of Myths
Dealing with the Paranormal: Year #1
Basic Medicine
Basic Diplomacy
Weaponry and Hand to Hand Combat: Year #1
Tracking
Hunting the Obscure