Cyril
(#47330260)
Level 1 Wildclaw
Ava
Enchanted Libra
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Wildclaw
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.22 m
Wingspan
8.58 m
Weight
690.1 kg
Genetics
Lead
Basic
Basic
Rose
Noxtide
Noxtide
Cream
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
| xx |
Occupation Bartender in The Velvet Fang Partner Aisha Height 6'2 Orientation Bisexual  |
═══════════════════════════════════════════ CYRIL "Please, no fingerprints on the bar." ═══════════════════════════════════════════ With eyes running the length of his body, Cyril was always thought of as a bit of an oddball. As a child most of the other children avoided him at all costs, going out of their way to make sure he knew that he wasn’t welcome. He didn’t mind, though. As far as Cyril was concerned learning how to bake, sew, and garden with his parents was much more fun and interesting. Both of his parents were wonderful and kind people, devoting themselves to making sure that their son was loved and looked after. Neither of them were born with the same eye mutation but never once did they treat Cyril like anything was wrong with him. “Just because they don’t understand you doesn’t mean that they’re right,” his mother would say, “You are perfect just the way you are, mon trésor.” Their home, a cozy little cottage outside of the town, was perfect for the three of them and most of the food they ate had been grown with their own two hands. When they did go into town they always did so as a family. It was something little Cyril looked forward to every month. The market stalls, sights, sounds, people, and smells a thrilling change of pace from his otherwise peaceful life. Yes, life was good in there little corner of the Starfall Isles. Or it was before his mother fell ill. It happened out of nowhere but then these things always do. It was as if a switch had been flipped. The vibrant energetic woman she’d once been had been replaced by a shell, all of the laughter and warmth were gone. For a while, young Cyril was convinced that she’d get better, that one day he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal. “Cyril, we need to talk,” his father had said, the pain in his eyes obvious, “There’s something you need to understand.” The first few years after his mother passed away were difficult. His father had become withdrawn, though he tried his best to put on a brave face for his sake. At least they still had their trips into town to look forward to, even if they were bittersweet without her there beside them. It was during one of these trips that tragedy struck again. Thinking back he can’t remember all of the details of what happened that day anymore. Had they been following them for very long? Had they seen him in town before now? Who knows. All he does know is that they were fast. One second he was hand in hand with his father and the next he was being carried off by a stranger through the crowd. Whether or not they’d seen him before now is irrelevant. What matters is they were and what they wanted with him. When you live on the outskirts you tend to avoid town gossip and word was that there was a secretive group snatching children up. Why they were doing this nobody knew, but there were at least six different cases much like Cyril’s. All of the missing children were between the ages of 8 and 15 in a five mile radius from one another. The culprit, or rather culprits, of this crime were the order of serpents, just one of the assassin organizations in the Starfall Isles but they were also one of the largest. Their goal was to create the perfect assassins by taking children and bending them into whatever shape they needed. Cyril was simply chosen because of his mutation and his training was grueling. He didn’t have friends in order of serpents only rivals. Day and night he was subjected to their barbaric lessons, nary a word or sound allowed to be spoken without permission. After many harsh punishments, he begins to learn. At the age of nine he learns to be quiet, to follow orders and get the job done no matter the cost- even if the cost is his life. At the age of ten he learns how to slit a man’s throat in a way that ensures silence. At the age of thirteen he kills his first shield brother for failing a mission. At the age of sixteen he kills an innocent woman because the contract calls for it. On and on the violence continues until one day, many years later, he finally snaps. The contract was for both the wife and child. Her husband, a nobleman, had grown tired of the marriage and rather than risk owing her a single penny he decides to take them both out of the picture. An easy job, in and out. But when he got there, blade in hand, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The child was no older than nine, the same age he’d been when he was abducted. Disgusted, Cyril disobeyed his orders and fled. But not before taking the head of the nobleman who’d hired him first. On his own, Cyril wandered all over Sornieth searching for a new purpose. What could a man with hands as red as his do though? It’s bizarre that he ended up where he did. Why fate had brought him together with a man like Tomi was a mystery and utterly absurd. Yet here he was, in a bar talking to a man who called himself Big Boss. “I’m looking for a bartender,” he’d said, sliding up next to Cyril, “That’s why I’m here trying to poach one of you fine fellows.” None of the bar staff looked amused, but that didn’t stop the grin from spreading across Tomi’s face. “I bet I pay better,” he added confidently, “In fact, I promise I will. Comes with a place to stay and lots of pretty faces to see, too.” “Look buddy we’re not interested-” “I am,” Cyril spoke up. Big Boss blinked, turning in his seat to face Cyril with a smile. “You don’t say!” he exclaimed, “Got any experience slinging drinks big guy?” “Nope,” Cyril replied, “But how hard can it be?” “Ha! Harder than it looks for sure,” Tomi had chuckled in response, “But I like your moxie. Come on, let’s get out of this dump. There’s much to discuss- Ah, my mistake! I didn’t get your name.” “Cyril,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “And you are?” “Big Boss, at your service.” “You must be joking.” “Serious as a heart attack, Cyril.” Cyril has been with The Velvet Fang ever since that chance encounter in a dingy Plague bar. He’s incredibly secretive about his past and it’s only been recently that everyone has found out the truth. Once you’ve met Cyril it’s hard to believe that he was ever a dangerous assassin. He’s far to kind and put together to be a killer, but the truth is the truth no matter how unbelievable it seems. All of the boys love him and he’s incredibly protective of each and every one of them. The sub rosa do a fine job protecting them without any help, of course, but he’s always willing to offer them a hand if needed. One of his most defining personality traits is his obsessive need to keep everything in his life clean and in order. If there’s even a tiny smudge on the bar or a glass he has to clean it to a fierce shine or risk being thrown into despair. Because of this Cyril doesn’t really like or allow anyone else to help him clean up. The only person he tolerates help from is Milkshake because, like himself, Milkshake knows how to ‘do it right’. Cyril is considered the ‘dad friend’ in the Fang Gang as he’s always the voice of reason and coolheaded. Azizi and Aisha (his girlfriend and sub rosa memeber) like to tease him for this, but it’s done with a great deal of affection. He believes he still has a long way to go making up for his past life. Until that day comes, if ever, he doesn’t feel worthy of seeing his father. How could he ever be proud of the man he is now without paying for the man he was? | x |
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