Downworlders [OOC + SU] [M]
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June 25th, 2013, 10:03 PM
Join Date: May 2013
Callum Windsong, also known as the Black Dove
A Cross with Wings
Currently Unknown, somewhere in the Mundane World
Although not of a particularly daunting stature, Callum rises to an impressive 6'2", primarily due to long legs, yet also contributed to from his relatively lengthy torso. Despite his frail and lanky appearance, he is actually quite fit, possessing both a substansial amount of strength and an impressive endurance--although this might also be attributed to a few of the many glyphs inscribed upon his body. Starting on his right shoulder, a rune resembling a sword reaches down towards his elbow. A wicked, double-edged sword, it is a Fortis rune that has more than tripled the strength on his right arm.
It is surrounded in a tribal-like design(see reference image) that extends down his side to form an Endurance rune that spans across his side in the tribal pattern. A clear fore-arm makes way for the Voyance inscribed upon the back of his right hand to be crisply noticed
. Inscribed upon his chest is a lustrous orchid that shines quite brightly, a tribute to the deeper meaning of the mark. Although his long legs alone attribute to his speed, he has twin Dexteritas runes on the black of his calves, taking on a tribal design that wraps their down his calves and somewhat around the front his legs.
As is the bloodline trait of the Windsong family, Callum possess regal blond--almost platinum--locks that fall gracefully into place. At one point, as was customary, his hair was long and wild, and when it would it blow, it would a strong gust or breeze. Although since his exile, he has kept his short and swept up for numerous reasons, one of them being utter defiance to his clan. Also another sign of his family, he has a pale, flawless complexion that is offset by deep, boring golden eyes. With sharp features and a prominent chin, he is quite attractive, living up to the meaning of his name, "Dove."
Although exiled, Callum has not abandoned many of the Shadowhunter customs, probably due to the comfort that the routine provides for a scattered mind such as his. When going into combat, he dresses nearly in all black, with an exception of white clothing in nearly every ensemble to mourn this passing of his dearly beloved, Celine Winterose. Loose or excessive clothing tends to leave one at a disadvantage in fight, so Callum keeps it minimal. To accompany form-hugging leggings--they surprisingly don't inhibit his range and are
made of a special, weather and weapon resistant material--he wears a simple white dress shirt that is gilded in an ornate gold around the collar piece, along the opening, and upon the cuffs. Black combat boots with steel-toes come hand-in hand with an elegant, black, knee-length trench coat with heavy brass buttons. Like the leggins, the overcoat is made of the same protective material. To top of his outfit, he wears a simple black hat that resembles an old detectives hat, but more sleek and elegant, with a round brim that extends just enough to obscure his face in the shadows. To ensure further protection of his identity, he wears a pair of dark, almost burgundy sun glasses. When not in combat, Callum dares to go a bit more showy with his attire.
Although the lack of an aggressor calls for less of a need, Callum still tends to stick with his form-conforming clothing. Bar the occasional splash of color, his outfits still tend to be of a black and white color. While boots are still his footwear of preference, he is a fan of elegance and has a variety of different shoe styles that he likes to display. Cuffs, collars, zippers and buttons are all things that attract Callum to certain pieces of clothing. He tends to dress rather expensively, buying clothing that is often custom tailored and made of high-quality fabrics, unlike most of the clothes that are produced today. Due to the frivolous life that he leads, his clothes tend to be thick and heavy, made resistant to the hazards of combat. combat
Callum is a rather eccentric character—a true basket case if there ever was one. He will fight tooth and claw to the very death to accomplish his goals. As youth facing insurmountable odds, he grew an unwieldy determination and innate persistence. Calloused by the rigor of his training and harshness of his childhood, there was not much that could actually get to Callum, who, while unstable, tends to remain calm and relatively civil. Although his thoughts appear to be nonsense at times, if could follow the dots, his sophistication is apparent.
When he was young, as probably all young people are, Callum was obsessed with ideas of “justice” and “doing good.” It was his first real decision in life that he wanted to help people, to make a difference—he aspired to inspire before he expired. When he dedicated himself to something, Callum really put his heart and soul, giving the matter his all. Although he was brazen and headstrong, as again, many youths are, he possessed a definite charismatic factor that set him apart from others. Naive and reckless, he lived for the moment and feared not what his actions implied. This happened to the volatile combination that would allow love to bring to life the mad-man hidden inside of us all, out of Callum.
Celine was like no other to Callum, and in all honesty, they did make quite the perfect pair if not for one fact: she was an exile. This one fact, this forbidden love made him angry, as he quickly grew tired of having to remain in the shadows with his love, which he held so dear. That still, did not scar his psyche like witnessing the murder of his beloved, by his own father no less. As he sat their, restrained, something went off in his brain that will never ever go back on. With his subconscious in pieces, he began to develop sociopathic tendencies such as a huge disregard for life, as is evidenced by his dealings with the Forsaken. Although he no longer has the mental fortitude that he once did, his metal prowess is still notable--and perhaps his lunacy gives him a bit of an edge. With a warped idea of how to cause peace, he will stop at no ends to not only avenge the death of his beloved, but to craft a new world in her honor, one devoid of such strife and misery. Although many of his actions ironically cause the very same feelings he seeks to end, he is ignorant to such and will listen to no man who attempts to reason with him.
A master at controlling his emotions, Callum will give off fronts to get anything or any information that he needs from people. Attached to the melodrama, he will often feign emotions simply to illicit a response from his opposition. While many regard it as useless, it often does knock people down a few pegs. Nothing really matters to Callum, that is, except for avenging his beloved and ensuring a world proper to avoid such strife.
Hailing from a prestigious order of Shadowhunters who preferred to stick among their own kind, Callum spent most of his youth in the trees of Brosline Forest. Not having the luxury that civilization entails, he quickly learned that he had to take what he needed. With the members of the Windsong clan engrossed in such itinerant ways, they learned to survive on the bare minimum, often turning to nature to remedy many of their problems. For this reason, Windsong warriors are bred to be fierce—an honor reserved only for the upper Windsong family, with few exceptions.
Callum has a direct link to the lesser Windsong family, tracing his lineage directly back to Caelestis Windsong, one of the first to drink from the Mortal Cup. His father was a powerful Shadowhunter by the name of Mithrandir Windsong, a highly revered Shadowhunter who answers directly to the Inquisitor. A grim and solemn man, he values his duty above all else, vowing to uphold the creed of the Covenant by any means, even if that means laying his life on the line—something that he is no stranger to. The head of the lower family, he was rather a bitter man who detested the head of the upper family, Igancius Windsong. Despite being destined to be the lesser of his cousin, he had one pride and joy: his son and Callum's older brother, Lucian. The finest warrior ever produced from the clan, he outshone everyone in his class, managing even to surpass all 6 of Ignacius's sons, much to his displeasure.
From the moment that Callum was conceived, he was disliked by his father. Nearly at once, his mother was besieged with health issues during the pregnancy, garnering the ill will of a man who was forced to watch his beloved suffer. Time passed, and despite what all the best doctors said, her condition only worsened, finally coming to a head; she could either kill her child that she can live, or carry out the pregnancy of die for herself. Madly in love with the child that she was bearing, she had no second thoughts about her own life, much to the discontent of Mithrandir who desperately pleaded with her otherwise. Holding her precious little bundle for the first time, she looked in his eyes and spoke her last words ever to him, “You, my little Dove, will soar. You may not be a Falcon like your brother, or a Hawk like your cousins, but you will fly higher than they ever could, my little Dove.” In honor of that, he was given the name Callum. Born from tragedy, he would have to first escape his shackles before he could take flight.
The effigy of hate for his father, Callum was pushed beyond his capabilities, often to ruinous extents. It was his brother, and his brother alone that prevented things from going too far. It was this brother, also, that imparted much of his skill upon Callum, giving him the advantage that he so desperately needed. Although he did not even come close in skill, under the watch of his brother, he grew to be quite a formidable warrior. Yet even that was not enough to wipe the smudge from his record, the enmity between them growing even larger as he managed to prove his father wrong. Life, at this point, still was nothing that Callum couldn't handle. It was not until the Scarlet Battle that things reached an extreme. It was here in this battle, this gruesome scene, that his older brother, Lucian was struck down. Although not apart of the original assassinations, he was one of the first to track the Downworlders down, brazenly taking them on by himself. When he died here, Mithrandir lost it and Callum faced a hatred unlike any other before.
Relatively disowned by his father, and on mutual feelings, Callum made his way to an Institution. Although his father told him it was to “readjust his attitude” anyone from a mile away could see that it was merely a ploy to get him as far away as possible, the next best thing to killing him, something that his father longed to do, although he never could. It was here that he met Celine, the love of his life. A fellow Shadowhunter, she was exiled with her entire family when they were caught helping Downworlders. Spending a few years at this institution, he was finally called upon by his father, who had long since been living on borrowed years. Thinking that the old man had finally gotten over his bitterness, he immediately went to see him—bringing his beloved, and forbidden Celine along, given that they lived outside of the capitol city, Alicante.
As Callum entered his home, he was informed by some other members of his clan that his father had become gravely ill and had something important to tell him before he passed. Figuring that it would be related to inheriting his role as head of the family, he entered the room with full intentions to make amends with the man who helped create him. As he entered, his father motioned him down to the bedside, saying, “I am weak... come closer please so that you may hear me.” And as Callum drew near, the soft look in his father's face disappeared, a contorted, vile look replacing it. “You are pure evil. I have never hated anything in my life as much as I hate you. It was only by your mother's grace that I made the mistake of letting you live so long.” The man paused, allowing his son to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, “I've heard you've been running around with an exiled Shadowhunter.” The words hit Callum like a freight train. “You've brought much dishonor not only to me, and the lesser Windsong family, but the entire Windsong clan! Associating with the exiled is a clear violation of the Covenant and your actions tarnish us all!” He was sitting up in his bed at this point. “Well... where is that *****?!” he yelled, slamming his fists on the bed beside him.
As if in reply to Mithrandir, two of his subordinates dragged the flailing girl inside and threw her to the ground in front of the two. “My lordship.” The duo bowed before retreating to the nearby shadows.
“She is a pretty one, Callum,” Mithrandir wheezed. “It makes what I'm about to do quite a shame.” Hopping down onto the ground, he reached down in front of him, grabbed the girl by her hair, and yanked her up on her feet. Grabbing a knife, he slowly began to run it along her neck in a taunting gesture. “Just like that... and she'd be gone.” There was a wicked look in his eyes. “But where is the fun in that, my boy?” At this, he threw her to the ground and ran his knife down her torso, cutting her open so that he could begin his torture. “I may not be able to kill you, boy, but I will make you know my pain.” At this Callum, tried to speak, but could find no words. Emboldened by his father's treachery, he lunged with his trench knives in hand, being quickly restrained by his father's two assistants.
“You see,” his father began, “it isn't just about watching the one that you love die.” With his head turned down, he balled his hand into a fist, more angry at himself than anyone else. “I wish that death had come quickly to my beloved...” He looked up now, staring his son directly in the eyes. “But I had to sit there!” he yelled, his anger causing him to draw the knife deeper than even he intended as he readied to pull out her intestines.“Not even able to ease the pain that she felt. And for what? This pathetic excuse of son?” He let out a deep, almost maniacal laughter as he plunged his hands into the still-live girls body cavity. “Well I'll have you know... you are NOT my son. Lucian is my only son—you're the spawn of evil!” As if he had planned it for years, he spoke synchronously with his actions, making it a rather chilling mental assault. When the girl let out her last scream, and gave her last spasm, Callum broke lose from the hold of his captors.
“I swear, I'll kill you!” Callum charged the frail old man, grabbing a mounted stele from the wall before throwing everything he had behind one lunge. Before he could even blink, he was immediately restrained once again, although it didn't really matter. The punch, as it turned out, was too much for the old man, who buckled at the knees and fell backward onto the floor, never to get up again. At this instant, he was immediately cast out by those of his clan, being labeled “kin-slayer” and some other, more profane things. Being a family matter, the Covenant did not get involved at the behest of Ignacius, who hoped to turn the new head of the lower family in his favor to put an immediate end to the power scuffle that would ensure among the clan. Immediately upon his return home, Callum was met with celebration and showered in little, mostly meaningless, gifts. Yet none of this, he soon came to know was a proper substitute for his dearly beloved, and it was at this time that he vowed to avenge her murder as soon as possible. To do so he realized he would have to leave,and so he set out, much to the joy of his fellow clan members who were more than happy to escort him to the edge of their territory. Not wanted at home, and unwilling to go another brainwashing institution, he had no where to go, so he set off for the mundane world.
It was here, when he observed the squalid conditions that a vile plan came across his mind. Tracking down Celine's family, he relayed the news of her cold-blooded death to them,as well as his plan on how to get back at the bastards who are responsible for killing her. The mundane cities were full of people who milled about, with no one but themselves, and no one who would care if they'd disappear—no alarm raised whatsoever. Spending months in wait, they amassed a sizeable army of the Forsaken and set about to go do their separate thing. Callum simply had to return home, declare a festival... and it'd all be rolling from there when Celine's family comes through with the army, staging the attack as if Callum had no involvement. As chaos ensued, the father approached him. “Now that we have done this, what are your next plans?” Callum casually demanded that he gather his wife and son and come with him, to a safe place where they could discuss things. Approaching a rotted out tree, he made his way down a crude stairwell, sparking a torch so as to light the way for his companions.
The room that they found themselves in was small and bleak. The dingy gray that covered the area made it appear far smaller than it actually was. The only notable feature was the solid iron door built into the surrounding earth. “So, my friends, how are you?” Callum greeted them casually with a polite nod and a curt smile. They reached the door and he pulled it open, “After you.” As soon as the three entered the room, he slammed the door shut and sealed it from the outside. As Callum walked away, the trio let out a gaggle of dastardly screams upon realizing their fate—trapped, in a little prison box that is FILLED with Forsaken. Before he could make his exit, there was powerful explosion that blew the solid iron door off its frame, Callum rolling away to narrowly avoid it. Upon a quick scuffle with the son, he slayed him, but not without being left with a nasty welt on his face; which, ironically, actually played to his favor. When he was questioned of such, he merely said that he had no idea of what had occurred, and that he himself risked his life and nearly died to fend off the aggressors. Able to manage his emotions, his made himself appear shaken and distraught, although the matter had not really affected him one way or the other.
It was at this trial, that Callum had his first real encounter the Inquisitor. Certainly a fearsome being, the leader of the Covenant is someone that he wouldn't challenge. Able to feel the immense power wafting off of him, he was, at the same time, drawn to him, to his power. It was certainly unlike anything the young Windsong boy had ever felt, and strangely it made him feel good. It was a mesmerizing effect that he wanted to be able to produce of his own accord, and he knew, that if he was to do such, he would need to remain on good standing with the man, so as to receive his personal training.
: will be coming :s
: Callum makes use of two ferocious
made from bone and edged in Damascus steel. The blades are capable of converting to a form where they can be attached to a chain, allowing him to keep his distance when needed.
Last edited by ANARCHit3cht; June 28th, 2013 at
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