lux-ex-nihil

[lux-ex-nihil]

i. overview

Species: Shadow Blooded Wytch

Full Name: Vincent “Vince” Desjardin

Birthday & Age: May 30th, 1993 / 26

Skill: Psychometry & Scrying

Level: Enchanter

Occupation: French Tutor / Stipend Dependent 

Neighborhood: Mercer Apartments, 2 beds 1 baths - seeking a roommate.

Hometown: Paris, France

Residency Status: Newcomer, six months

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

ii. personality

+ optimistic, loyal, artsy, & attentive.

- inflexible, naïve, directionless, and hypocritical.

iii.  about the species

wytches are humans with the power to affect natural or unnatural change by magical means. they connect themselves with divine forces in order to practice magic. with regular practice they can become highly skillful, dangerous if endeavors lead to malecium. there is a general curse to their existence; they tend to become addicted to supernatural forces and due to their constant use of magic, to misuse they will surely go down a path of becoming increasingly amoral towards human life as a result. the concept of wytches has existed across various cultures both primitive and advanced, throughout recorded history. their general misconception of their kind is primarily rooted in the mass carnage of the middle ages, against people, particularly women, who practiced any form of belief or healing that could be deemed anti-christian.

iv.  the past

♫ character playlist, now playing ♫

trigger warning: toxic family dynamics, religious abuse, and homophobia.

a golden child, born into power on the feast day of jeanne d’arc. surprisingly, in a hive rich with diviners, his birth was not foretold, though many assured his mother, a respected member of the blood court, otherwise in hopes of gainer her favor. he was named rather conspicuously: vincent desjardin, or conqueror from the garden. later, he wondered why no one had spoken against such a heavily weighted name at his christening, deep down, vince knew the reason. his mother had fervently believed he would live up to it and no one spoke against her without fear. she was a true believer, holding tightly to the traditions of tyrants and upholding old laws that more were judgement than mercy. it was an extreme faction, even for the church of eden, but she was powerful, and her power had to be proof of her righteousness.

despite the unearned honors heaped upon vince—or perhaps because of them—he had a lonely childhood. from the time he could sit up, he spent five hours a day in mass and latin rites flowed from his tongue far before he could speak proper french. there were other children like this, of course, but they weren’t really children, were they? they were vessels to be filled with g-d or, more importantly, magic. when his training was done, there would be ichor, not blood, in his veins and light would pour from him into an unbelieving world. this training would never be complete.

vincent did not show the raw magical power everyone expected of him, but he had a soul attuned to ritual and prayer. this, of course, was still acceptable, a wytch holding the title of archbishop or cardinal would be incredibly useful and he would be impossible to remove because he believed, just as jeanne did. a guileless boy, but still very useful, still gifted. as he grew older and could be trusted to make his own decisions (or when another fancy took root and the hive grew bored of him), vince reconnected with the eden wytches, forging relationships based on who he was rather than what his mother had promised of him. to his great surprise, vince was well liked. he was a bright and respectful boy, always putting others first. when he was fourteen, vince pledged himself to the maid of orléans not because he was born upon her feast day but because he loved her, he felt her, and he knew what he wanted.

one of the few people he couldn’t seem to connect with was his sister. vince knew she resented him for overshadowing her, but he could seem to explain how badly he chafed under the expectations forced upon him. as much as their mother had elevated him, vince’s sister had been denigrated. she was the one with the power and talent he lacked but as badly as he wanted to champion her, his help was always refused. he expected hive politics had something to do with it but couldn’t untangle the mess before he was sent away to study at an abbey in the vosges.

v. the dawn

it was in his early twenties when he realized the church was not his ultimate calling. it didn’t directly coincide with his realization that he was bisexual, but the former didn’t help. vince took to spending more time outside the abbey, drinking wine with parisian artists and slowly learning to tell the difference between the people who looked the part and those with the magic in them. not magic magic, like he had, but something deeper and more beautiful, the ability to conjure beauty and twist emotions through skill alone. he felt the presence of g-d again, and this time it was through the work of unclean strangers. vince fell in love, both with the possibilities and with a man named auguste.

those years moved quickly, with vince and his beloved quickly moved to a charmingly dilapidated flat that was always filled with friends and unfinished paintings. auguste would sketch out the scene and he would fill in the colors. vince always thought privately that the art always looked a great deal better before he got his hands on it, but never said anything as he was, at least in a small part, afraid auguste would see so as well and reject him entirely. it was a silly notion, but it crept into his head at night and vince had to shake it out every morning. he still went to mass every sunday and auguste had seen him doing magic, but never seemed to connect the two. in fact, auguste never quite believed in the results, admiring the work as beautiful trickery or performance art rather than anything supernatural and vince worked hard to keep it that way.

he kept in touch with the other wytches, but rarely interacted with them outside of attending mass and sending letters. the two sides of his life could never touch, lest they destroy each other as matter and anti-matter. vince was so deeply tied and refused to choose one or the other… until his sister went missing.

she was even more of a prodigal than he was, apparently, and had been dabbling in malecium. it sickened vince, not her actions but the fact that this had been happening in his own family and he had been blind to it. blinded by love, blinded by pleasure, blinded by sin.

but where was g-d if not in the search for light, beauty, and happiness?

family came before all else, and a gay love did not make one a family in the eyes of g-d. his mother told him this over and over and over until vince agreed, if only to make her stop saying it. at least he had the strength to tell auguste to his face and let him know that it was his family and not him that was making this decision. how dangerous magic was and how it ran in his blood like holy fire. vince promised to be back as soon as he could and that he’d leave eden as soon as his sister was safe. it wasn’t a lie, for he believed it wholeheartedly as he said it and, upon later reflection, knew he could never leave and that his poor dark sister would never be safe.

vi.  the current

now he has abandoned everything but uncertainty and the world is as sharp and raw as he’s ever felt it. freedom is fear, freedom is loneliness, freedom might be the best thing that’s ever happened to vince. there are no expectations to live up to and (though the phrase makes him laugh) he feels born again. south dakota wild and untamed compared to france; the saints and powers that fill the land have been stifled and cry for recognition. he does not know how to help

auguste writes very kindly—he is more understanding than vince is of himself—and, months and months later—he has begun to reply. nothing is broken forever, he is learning, at least when there is such a strong will to be fixed. they’re both seeing other people, the relationship had always been an open one, but it’s an honest one and honesty need not destroy. there is hope for the hopeless and the possibility for the light to pour from his skin once more.

vii. connections

✗ FEMME FATALE & DELILAH SARGSYAN - magic has been practically tangible since his arrival in the states and specifically the midwestern state he’s currently searching a lead on. during his voyage, he’s been the next door neighborhood to two of the most striking women he’s met in terms of contagious energy. no names have been exchanged as of yet, but he knows the other are more than they appear. he wants to assume as such, take the lead and find a community even away from his territory. it’s easier said than done, of course, so for now he’ll stick to their brief exchanges in the apartment’s corridors and common areas.

✗ THE HOLY TRINITY - never in a million years would he have pictured his past classmates visiting his exact location. not only them, but several others of his hive as well. the tone of their visit raised the hair on his back, so he’s keeping a close eye on the three he knows best. THE KING, with his distant gaze but polite approach; THE MIRROR and his entrapping demeanor, and THE PINOCCHIO, a peculiar youth with an insatiable need to avoid matters through musings. each with their own confusing reputations he’s never been able to decipher. he was a year older when he met them, so perhaps adulthood and their circumstances have aligned themselves naturally for him.

His face claim is TOMMY MARTINEZ and he’s played & written by IAN.

[lux-ex-nihil]

[lux-ex-nihil]

He said boy what I saw Was a strange sight I did not recognize For you are I And I am you

[lux-ex-nihil]

Temperance