blossomtide

[blossomtide]

Miharu Sato

24 | Student of Elixirs | He/Him ‣ intro. ‣ tags. ‣ background.

Cyrus Mihalis

31 | Priest | He/Him ‣ intro. ‣ tags. ‣ background.

Dantalion

5240 | Unemployed Professional Demonic Consultant | He/Him/Any ‣ intro. ‣ tags. ‣ background.

[blossomtide]

( ahn hyoseop, cis male, he/him) — one day the sea will sing of CYRUS MIHALIS, the thirty one year old priest from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about bloodied knuckles and torn skin, yellowing bruises next to new ones / faint light at the end of dark, long tunnel / an empty chapel with sunlight streaming in through the windows, a lone figure kneeling down with head bowed in silence / a hug so tight that it knocked air out of your lungs, desperate and remorseful enough it felt like you’ll never part again for another lifetime / a childhood memory of careful, gentle hands picking you up from the sofa as you sleep and carrying you to bed in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone caring and attentive, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are stubborn and secretive. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ rae, 26, any pronouns, gmt +7.

Profile.

FULL NAME Cyrus Mihalis AGE Thirty-One BIRTH DATE August 1st GENDER & PRONOUNS He/Him ORIENTATION Demiromantic/sexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS Married

KHEMIA Anima OCCUPATION Priest (New Faith) CURRENT RESIDENCE Cynefin, Clwyd-isle

PARENTS Unknown SIBLINGS Unknown PARTNER Sion Lee (husband, alive) CHILDREN Ahri Lee (daughter, alive); Yuri Lee (daughter, alive)

HEIGHT 188cm / 6’2” WEIGHT 72kg / 159 lbs EYE COLOR Dark Brown HAIR COLOR Black SCARS Various scars all over his body. Usually wears long sleeved clothes to cover the ones on his arms

FACECLAIM Ahn Hyoseop CHARACTER INSPO Shiro Fujimoto (Blue Exorcist), Ja’far ( Magi), Kaeya (Genshin Impact), Qifrey (Witch Hat Atelier), Jesse Venetian/Jung Yuseo (When the Third Wheel Strikes Back)

Summary.

TW: mentions of violence.

- Started life as a street urchin/war orphan, was taken in by Sion Lee’s family when he was around 8 or so (probably, no one knew his real birthdate). Then they got separated a few years later. 

- Cyrus tried to find them and traveled to different regions, often earning money through mugging/pickpocketing and even entered street fighting rings in one region due to decent prize money for each win. It became a steady income for him that he thought of staying in that region for a while until he gathered decent funding to continue his search. 

- The local ringleader wasn't too pleased with him due to certain things and told their underlings to cripple him as he was tossed into some alley and left to die. A wandering pilgrim happened to pass by and saved him from the brink of death and took him in. 

- Years later he officially became a priest and was sent to Cynefin about 6 or 7 years ago. He’s not actually that devout but he knows better than to say this out loud. Cyrus is an agnostic but he’s not going to trample on those who have more specific belief, he’s come to terms that if some people can find comfort and hope in prayers, they should be allowed to do that in peace as long as it doesn’t harm themselves or others.  

- The pilgrim who saved him became his adoptive parent and they probably could guess his line of thought hence why Cyrus was sent to Cynefin. A person who’s flexible in his belief is probably more suited with the people there, though Cyrus (jokingly) thinks he’s just being demoted.

- Ends up reuniting with Sion Lee in Cynefin and they get married not long after with their twin daughters born in the following year. 

- Uses a prosthetic leg that his husband specifically made for him. Before he used one given by his adoptive parent but that old one was a lot more limiting than the one Sion made for him as he constantly tinkers with it to make it more comfortable for Cyrus. 

Personality.

- The Cyrus Mihalis of today is known by those around him as an amiable individual who wouldn’t hesitate to lend his help to those in need. He has a mild temperament, appearing to be a harmless clergyman who manages a small private orchard in his family home as his hobby. He can be found greeting people he meets with a gentle smile. His eyes become a lot livelier whenever he talks about his little family of four or when gardening comes up as a conversational topic. 

- He often uses his anima magic to aid those plagued with anxiety. He’d hold their hands and ask them to tell him their worries. As he listens to their woes, Cyrus would use his magic to help them to calm down and encourage them to find logical solutions together.

- Although he also cherishes his friends and neighbors, no one really knows what the young priest is truly like as Cyrus often tries to maintain a respectable distance between himself and other people.

Connections.

Tba.

[blossomtide]

[` 01 solo para.] at the end of spring.

It started out as a mere thought. Which grew into a curiosity, which then turned into an ambition. And ambition in its final form evolved into obsession; one that kept him awake at night, eyes wide open and heartbeats fluttering like a restless bird behind his ribcage. 

For years that obsession haunted him like a shadow that would only grow and grow until he caved under its weight. It would be a lie to say that Miharu didn’t fear it. But tried as he might, he couldn’t get rid of that ugliness in his heart no matter what he did. He never wanted to grow resentful of the elder sibling that he loves, but the way his insecurity fed on that love, cancerous as it took that affection apart piece by piece terrified him. 

So he became lost as he ran in circles, one hand outstretched up and grabbing onto the night air as if trying to capture the moon within his palm. He threw all of his attention towards honing himself, learning anything and everything he could cram into that little head of his. It mattered not to him if he ran himself ragged, if it would bring him one step closer to the image of perfection that he strived for then he would gladly grind his bones to dust if needed to. 

He’d devour all knowledge, swallowing back any part that he couldn’t digest, refusing to let go even if blood would trickle down his nose and smear the pages. And still, all of that wouldn’t be enough for him. 

In their darkest times, one’s heart might turn towards the faintest dots of light. They reached out for it, unknowingly falling deeper into an unwinding maze that they might not be able to come out from. The same applied to Miharu in his attempts to catch up to the high pedestal he placed his siblings upon. 

In his desperation he would even turn towards what some would brand as insanity. And they were correct to call it as it is; fairy tales were meant for bedtime stories not to be taken as a challenge. But just as Miharu brought his first ruin to himself, his second one started as a thought. Which then turned into a curiosity. And that curiosity was yet to turn into an obsession, as this new path to ruin was one that he barely ventured into.

So he started his research. The old tomes promised that they would come. For those with hunger so ravenous they could swallow a mountain and drink the ocean to its last drops. For hearts that grew crooked in their loneliness and in exile, hearts that twisted into a revolting mess of flesh rotting from envy. They shall gather, be it lured by the smell of greed and misguided ambition, or for the despairing cries from the souls of the fallen. They would come offering power in exchange for might. 

Miharu had his doubts. The meager information that he could gather spoke of stories of many sources, each conflicting one another. Perhaps it was indeed ancient fairy tales. Fables of the old wives, served to teach their young to fear the unknown. Or so he tried to tell himself, pretending that he alone was enough. He was enough and that should be the sole truth. 

Then came letters from home with a handwriting that bore resemblance to his own. His older sibling had written to him of what accomplishment that they once again did that would invite awe and respect to those around them. Miharu was happy for them and to say that he was proud of them was an understatement.

But such a moment was short-lived. To think that the letters would arrive during an unfortunate time, it was no surprise that Miharu came spiraling down, his stomach churning as self-hatred rose up to his throat like bile. 

The once pristine paper bearing of good news crumpled under his clutch. Miharu grabbed his coat and left the warm protection his room provided him in the dead of the night. He didn’t care where he was going as long as it was far, far away. Or as far as his feet could take him in that pea-sized coastal town. 

He arrived on a small cliff overlooking a fiery sea. His lungs ached along with his burning leg muscles. The cold wind was biting on his exposed skin but he barely felt any pain on him, mind as turbulent as the crashing waves below. 

After a while, the young man finally came to his senses. It was silly of him to be so impulsive. What would he even do here? Swallowing back the embarrassment he turned to make his way back to the castle. There wasn't much to do out there. The least he could do was to drown his mind in the town’s bar with its cheap alcohol. 

His heart jumped as he caught something watching him from the edge of the cliff. His mouth dried up as his instinct warned him, urging him to run. But a part of his mind chose to stay, aware of what the creature might be. Something that he’d been losing some sleep researching more information about. A legend so elusive any story he found left him unsatisfied with nothing but vague answers. 

And that was when it all went wrong. The hair behind his neck stood as he sensed a presence nearby. Its stare, whatever it was, felt like the serrated end of a saw upon his skin. Suddenly, the ocean sounded muted and far away.

And then, he saw them.

So when he was (un)lucky enough to be presented with such a precious encounter, why would he run away? If he must die then he would die knowing. 

The ocean beneath howled as it clawed the cliff. True to some accounts of the old tomes he read, the creature did offer him to form a contract. The demon whispered that they can grant anything that Miharu wants. Be it riches or power, beauties or his enemies, they would lay it all down by his feet. Anything he wanted with just the smallest, paltry price of a single drop of blood, Miharu would have it all. 

He felt like could hear the sound of crashing waves coming from the voice of the demon as it spoke. And he shuddered at the thought of the cold, pitch black ocean beneath the cliff; restless and waiting, refusing to let its children go without a reminder of their origin. Should he accept the being before him as his familiar, that would be where he’d be at the end of this road. 

But his fear barely acted as a deterrence with an obsession that had grown into a giant; much, much bigger than his flesh and bones could contain. When all of the instinct within him screamed for him to turn his heel and sprint the other way, his yearning rooted his feet onto the earth. He met the demon’s eyes and their gaze felt like being stared by a pair of abyss. 

Perhaps he should’ve run away then. He should’ve taken that car of his and drive for miles and miles away from that wretched little town. He should’ve left Cynefin and its malevolent oceans behind and never to look back again. But if running away was all that he wanted to do then he wouldn’t have come to Verum to begin with. He didn’t come here to die nor did he come here to bide his time. 

So Miharu picked the closest sharp stone he could find and without hesitation, slashed his left palm with its jagged end. Blood trickled down from the open wound, forming a glistening black pool under the faint moonlight. Miharu tossed the stone aside and reached out to grab the demon by their jaw, fixing a firm hold on them as he peered into the abyss and the stars reflected in their eyes once again. For some reason, at that moment his mind whispered to him. ‘Bind your fates together, a soul for a soul.’ 

“Just one drop? Don’t look down on me, fiend. I was born with riches and privilege. What you offered me just now I can have them with just a few words in no time,” he laughed without a hint of mirth in his eyes. “No, I only wish for a few things in life. So drink. These few wishes of mine are neither petty nor small.”

[blossomtide]

( murakami nijiro, male, he/him) — the halls of verum academy is home to MIHARU SATO, twenty four year old student of elixir. listen to the whispers that follow them through the door of the theory of healing arts classroom, the ones about a volatile stormy sea by a cliffside, sunlit greenhouses with tall windows, apothecary shelves packed with bottles and vials, handwritten journal with drawn plants and endless winding staircases. once they graduate, their legacy will be one that is intelligent and protective in nature, but the records will not mention that they are known to be insecure and possessive, too. they are, after all, the future of verum. ╱ rae, 26, any pronoun, gmt +7.

Basic Info

Faceclaim: Nijiro Murakami

Name: Miharu Sato

Nickname: Haru, Ruru

Age: 24

DOB: May 10th

Pronouns: He/him

Gender: Male

Orientation: ?? (he's too busy studying he never paid attention to romance)

Occupation: Student of Verum Academy

Languages: English, Japanese, Latin

Residence: Verum Academy Dormitory

Skeleton: Muse 1

Height: 165 cm/5’5”

Weight: 55 kg/ 121 lbs

Eye color: Black

Hair color: Black 

Piercings: None

Tattoos: None

Scars: A few small cuts on his hands and arms from when he was learning swordsmanship

Aesthetic: a volatile stormy sea by a cliffside / sunlit greenhouses with tall windows / apothecary shelves packed with bottles and vials / handwritten journal with drawn plants / endless winding staircases

Familiar: ? ??

Background:

“There is an unquenchable thirst for greatness within you, one that nobody but you can fulfill. Yet every quest for glory you took left you unsated, each gulp of victory were mouthfuls of fire. And there is only a matter of time until you burn to cinders from inside out.” 

Born from one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the capital, Miharu grew up rarely wanting for anything. That is, until he became old enough to understand the sting of people’s words and venom hidden behind the sweetest smiles. 

Was very attached to his second older sibling, used to idolize and adored them a lot until the pressure of being compared to them started to get to him. Miharu is ashamed to admit that his 2nd eldest was the reason he has an inferiority complex because while he loves his sibling, being known as the hardworking little brother of a natural born genius made him miserable. 

As the youngest of four siblings all he’s been taught since young was not to bring any shame into family and that there are little to no expectations for him to live up to, no grand roles to fill in. For some people, being born with a silver spoon with no responsibilities or expectations would be a wonderful thing. But to him, it shows how insignificant he is as he’s not even worthy of being a spare for his older siblings.

Miharu is by no means an untalented or average khemia practitioner. By his own right, he’s worked hard to be where he is with or without the privilege his family’s influence gave him and he’s made a name for himself despite his age. But sure enough, the brilliance of the sun would easily devour the light that came from a handful of stars.

It was cowardly of him to run away to Cynefin in the guise of studying in Verum. Miharu needed to get away from Talcelin, from the eyes of the Capital’s high society, from his family and from his older sibling that he both loves and loathes the most. 

Ignorant of the world yet remained headstrong, Miharu, the little young master who had never even dressed himself without a servant's help before settled in the quaint little town of Cynefin at the age of 18. 

Trivias: 

Has a lot of unsent letters addressed to his family. He might not like being sheltered under their shadow but they’re still his blood and he does get homesick occasionally. 

Hates it when someone mentions his family’s wealth/influence or calls him a spoiled young master (and they were right to call him that. He brought his fancy schmancy automobile from the capital that he rarely uses ffs. "I'm not spoiled." he says. Meanwhile, the car in question: x) 

Very hard on himself and self-critical. Has severe trust issues with people who approach him, worried they only get close to him to gain connection with his family that it’s hard for him to open up his heart for new friends.

Is fascinated with the way human bodies heal itself, hence why he picked elixirs as his major though there was another reason: because he wants to prove to his family that he’s a useful/crucial asset to the ongoing war. 

Actually has more natural affinity towards the transmutation branch of khemia but stubbornly chose to specialize in elixirs out of spite so people would stop comparing him and his other sibling who is adept in transmutation. 

Probably almost died when he foolishly tried to summon a demon to be his familiar but since it’s a successful summon he thought nothing of the danger he had put himself through. 

Sleeps with a gun under his pillows loaded with silver bullets after learning the existence of demons (after summoning one, unsure if it will even do the demons any harm but hey worth a shot).

More tba <3

Connections:

frenemies (0/2) 

someone who tries to befriend him just bc he's from a wealthy family or wants to get close to him bc of one of his older siblings (0/1)

someone that he end up tutoring (0/1)

roommate/dormmate. (0/2) you've known him since he first arrived to verum. you wondered why did this foolish young master came all the way down to the little town of cynefin on his own accord and how in the world was he to survive alone. this guy didn't even know how to dress up by himself!

you found one of his journals and liked his neat handwritings along with the life-like sketches of plants and potions materials drawn in there. he isn't too happy with you when you returned it back to him though.

you found him chilling on a branch of a tall tree. the sun is going down soon but he doesn't seem like he has any intention to climb down. you have a suspicion that he's actually stuck up there and doesn't know how to climb down.

more tba

[blossomtide]

[blossomtide]

Nijiro Murakami - Zoff CM