Enrollment Form
Basic info
Name: Malich
Age:17, though he doesn’t actually know.
Birthday: September 22nd – this is actually the day he was found and is treated as his birthday.
Gender: Male
Race: Faunus - Wolf
Height: 6’7”
Weight: 310lbs
Face Claim: Original art - coming soon!
Stats
STR: 5
DEF: 3
RES: 1
SPT: 3
HP 200|100 Aura
Personality
Major: Academic
Likes:
Hunting: Malich is first and foremost a hunter. He’s in his element when he's stalking something through the forest. He's done so for his own survival for most of his life. However while he allows himself to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, he refuses to let himself feel any joy in the kill itself. He knows that he walks a thin line beside a very dark path and fears what may happen if he begins to tread it.
Competition: Malich thrives on showing off his strength and testing himself against others. He wants to push himself to the limits of what his body can do, and the best way he knows how is to overcome someone stronger. Even a loss is a learning experience, and so Malich will rarely if ever back down from a challenge.
Strength: As someone who grew up in the wild, more specifically as someone who grew up as a predator, Malich respects strength above all else. In the forest, strength determined who was king more often than not, and to Malich civilization should be no different.
The forest: The forest was Malich’s home for almost his entire life. Even after he was adopted by a small village, he still spent most of his time in the woods. He finds the sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees to be calming as he strolls amongst the fallen leaves. To him, the forest is the purest form of beauty - a perfect blend of serenity and savagery.
Dislikes:
Being indoors: Malich grew up wild and free in the deepest sections of the forest. His first genuine interaction with humans occurred when he was 12. Prior to that, he merely observed from a distance or ran deeper into the woods when approached. As such, he is still very uncomfortable being inside. Once an intense fear of being caged, his time in his adopted village has slowly acclimated him to man made structures. Now he is merely uncomfortable in anything from a dorm room up. His fear isn't completely gone however, as he still has a form of claustrophobia specific to man made structures (see below).
Fire: Stemming from his time as little more than a beast, Malich has an inherent distrust of fire. In the wild, fire meant death. It was not until he was roughly 12 and Malich was adopted by a small village that he began to discover the positive aspects of flame. He has since conquered his once crippling fear of open flames, but he is still uneasy around them. Some may argue that his dislike of fire runs deeper than his feral upbringing. There may be an even stronger reason for his dislike of flames.
Vegetables: Malich is first and foremost a forest predator. For most of his life, if he wasn't eating meat it was because he was in danger of starving to death. The preference for meat has carried with him into his “civilization” and now takes the form of an almost childish refusal to eat his veggies.
The weak: There is a difference between those who cannot help themselves and those who will not. Malich does understand this difference and treats those he sees as weak accordingly, however his knee-jerk reaction to those too weak to defend themselves still usually ranges from mild negativity to outright disgust. To Malich, there are few people worse than those who are weak because they are idle. However Malich is capable of reason, and is not without compassion. Malich is conflicted by his dual nature, torn between human compassion and the rules of the wild: survival of the fittest.
Baths: Malich has nothing against being clean, however he still isn't used to the concept of soap. To most humans, it smells nice but Malich has a far stronger sense of smell. To him, most soaps, shampoos, and other such products smell artificial and sometimes outright chemical. Back when he lived in the forest, the thought of rubbing something like that on himself was laughable and suicidal. It's still something he is uncomfortable with.
Hospitals: A hospital is to many a place of healing. To Malich it is a place of death. All he can smell whenever he enters a hospital is the chemical smell of sterility barely making the stench of the sick and dying. To someone like Malich, lying helpless in a bed in such a place is a fate worse than death. He avoids going to hospitals and the doctor in general as much as possible.
Fears:
Large crowds: Partially due to his animalistic nature, his general distrust of people and civilization, and his life before being “civilized,” Malich will do everything in his power to avoid crowds. When forced or otherwise coerced to walk through or within one, he becomes extremely agitated and will grind his teeth, pace nervously, lash out at even the smallest perceived slight, or any other sort of extremely nervous behavior. Unless something is keeping him there, he will always attempt to get out of a crowd as soon as possible.
Loud noises: Specifically sudden loud noises. In the deep forests, loud noises are always bad. They usually mean that death is coming. Malich knows that he's not in the forest anymore, but between his entire childhood and his more animalistic side he is still on alert as if he was still wild in the woods. While Malich is slowly getting this fear under control, he still has been known to jump and even bare his fangs at sudden sounds, especially loud ones.
Small spaces: This applies specifically to man made spaces such as closets and small rooms. Malich has grown up wild and free. Being inside sets him on edge, but being in a particularly small room makes him feel like he's in a cage that's slowly shrinking. He will commonly outright refuse to enter a small enough room, and may panic if forced into one.
Becoming a monster: Malich has always been a predator; a hunter lurking in the gloomy darkness of the forest. He loves the thrill of the hunt and the rush of battle, but he never enjoys the kill. He knows that it is necessary, but to him a hunt is never about the kill. When he was a boy, he hunted to survive. As a young man, he has come to the academy to hunt so that he can safeguard his adopted village. But he also knows that there is a darkness inside of him. A small sliver of it is visible to the world whenever his semblance is active. He's never admitted it to anyone, but he's absolutely terrified of what he could become. Of what happens when he becomes a predator who enjoys the kill. Of what happens when he becomes the big bad wolf.
Overall Personality:
Malich, no pun intended, has a very rough personality. As someone who spent the vast majority of his life in the kill or be killed, survival of the fittest mindset one must have to survive in the wild, he has very little patience when it comes to people. As he learned to speak at the dangerously late age of 12, Malich often forgets to use his words and when he does speak it's in short, simple sentences often punctuated with various growls and grunts. Malich values strength above all else, whether it is physical or not and has a knack for seeing the hidden strength within someone that others may miss.
Gruff exterior aside, he is doggedly loyal (pun not intended) to those who he manages to befriend and will not hesitate to leap to their defense even when he is outmatched. Malich has a habit of referring to friends in an endearing pseudo insulting manner, such as calling someone smaller than him “pup” or jokingly telling a larger friend to lay off the cake - especially when it's obvious that they are healthier than he is.
Due to the primal nature of Malich’s upbringing and of his semblance, he does not have the same level of control over it as other students may have over theirs. Certain events can trigger his semblance to activate whether he wants it to or not. Depending on why his semblance was activated, he will act slightly differently:
- A little wild: If Malich activates his semblance voluntarily, he can deactivate it voluntarily. While it is active he will be more aggressive, but overall he will remain in control of himself. It may be difficult to get him to listen to a teammate, and even harder to get him to retreat, but he will overall be himself.
- Mad from pain!: If Malich has at least 20% of his total semblance points remaining and his health would drop below one, it is instead dropped to one with the remaining damage applied to his semblance points. If he has enough points left, his semblance will then activate. If his semblance is activated in this manner, he will immediately attack whatever attacked him and caused his semblance to activate. If he manages to subdue the threat before running out of semblance points he will then attack the nearest person, unable to tell friend from foe. If someone attempts to stop him from attacking the threat that activated his semblance, he will lash out at them long enough to get them to back away before resuming his attack on the original threat. He can deactivate his semblance voluntarily once he is not being attacked and he has less than 25% of his total semblance points remaining. If he has less than 10% of his maximum health remaining when he deactivates his semblance after having it activated in this manner, he will pass out until he had recovered to 25% of his total health. Otherwise, he will be too exhausted to run or fight until his health has recovered to that same point.
- Blood frenzy!: Even when his semblance isn't active, Malich’s lust for hot blood is hard to control. In the presence of fresh blood (or ichor in the case of the Grimm) he has a harder time keeping his primal side in check. If more than a pint of fresh blood or ichor is spilled within ten feet of him, he is extremely likely to lose control. If this happens, his semblance will activate and he will tear into the nearest or largest source of the blood or ichor, which can lead him to attack an ally that got splashed by it. He will then mindlessly attack the closest living creature. He will regain his senses if he is removed from the blood or ichor, if his semblance points drop below 25% of his starting total, or if he has nothing left to fight nearby. As an added side effect, he will not attack an android or similar bloodless being while in this state unless they attack him.
Abilities
Aura type: Healing
Aura Color: Dark green, with flecks of black.
Semblance: Blood frenzy: Malich’s semblance pushes him in tune with his more bestial side. It allows him to tap into the monstrous strength and vitality of an apex predator, but comes with the cost of gaining the blood lust of one too. While his semblance is active, it drains ten semblance points per post, including the post in which it is activated, regardless as to how it was activated (see below). While his semblance is active, Malich gains the following traits:
- Primal strength: Malich’s strength is increased by two.
- Savage endurance: Malich’s semblance points act as additional health. Whenever he would take damage that would reduce his health below one, his health is instead reduced to one and any damage remaining is applied to his remaining semblance points as long as he has enough points remaining. This can also be the cause for his semblance to activate (see below). This will cause him to burn through his semblance points at a much faster rate however, and it is possible to beat him into exhaustion without killing him. Note: this ability does not save Malich from any blow that would logically kill him outright. If something bites or cuts his head off for example, no amount of semblance points will save him.
- Affinity: bleed lv 1: While his semblance is active, attacks from his claw(s) and teeth have a chance to set a bleed status effect. Note that this does not apply to his axe, but the strength buff received from his semblance can cause his axe to apply a bleed effect to a weak enough opponent as per previously established rules (see status effects).
- Natural ferocity: Malich will forgo any and all ranged combat while his semblance is active, and he will instead move to engage his prey in close combat with axe, claw, and even his fangs.
Item 1: Aufteilen: A simple woodcutter’s axe, given to him by a shopkeeper in his village. He has reinforced the handle somewhat with metal so that it can at least block attacks from blades or a Grimm’s claws without being cleft in half. In Malich’s hands, it is a fearsome weapon. However it has also seen use as a simple tool. Currently a rank 1 melee weapon.
Item 2: Wolfklaue: A sturdy gauntlet. The vast majority of it is plate mail, however the palm is chain-mail. Silver in color, it is primarily used to catch or turn aside blows so that Malich can bring his own to bear. However, the fingers end in sharp claws that Malich has been known to put to good use. Currently a rank 1 armor.
History and Sample
- History:
Malich never knew his original family. He spent the first twelve years of his life as a feral creature in the woods on the outskirts of Vale. He grew up with the forest as his mentor and flourished under the harsh conditions of the Grimm infested woods. The unspoken rules of the forest were second nature to him, and he learned to hunt those smaller than him and hide from anything larger. He developed into a cunning predator capable of outwitting the Grimm when out running them wasn't an option.
Malich’s entire early childhood is a string of hazy, unclear memories that are difficult for him to untangle. He isn't even sure how old he is, merely referring to his point in life (ie: “I'm young. I'm a man. Etc.). While he had a handful of brief interactions with both humans and Faunus, Malich’s first true interaction with people occurred when he was roughly 12 years old. A group of villagers had formed a caravan in an attempt to traverse the deep woods in relative safety. However they were beset by a large pack of Beowulfs and were losing the battle. (One might almost say that things were looking grim.) Out of the woods came Malich, a bundle of ferocity even as a child. His sudden appearance was as surprising to the Grimm as it was to the villagers, and he was able to harass the Grimm long enough for the villagers to rally a defense and even managed to wound one on his own in the process.
After the Grimm had been repelled, the surviving villagers offered the strange boy who'd saved them food and clothing. Wary at first, Malich slowly came around and accepted the gifts, and ended up following them to their small village in a relatively safer section of the woods. The small gifts of thanks he received from the villagers when he first saved them and again later from their families when they heard what he'd done were the first acts of kindness ever shown to Malich, and he visited the village more and more often as time went by. Eventually he was more or less adopted by the entire town, going from shop to shop and helping how he could. As time went on, Malich slowly learned to speak, though he was never as fluent as the rest of the village. He also continued to grow at an alarming rate, soon dwarfing just about everyone in the village.
Despite his size, Malich remained as stealthy as ever, often startling villagers without meaning to. As he grew in stature and strength, Malich most commonly saw work as a woodcutter, and he was given his trusty axe by an old trapper whom Malich had grown particularly fond of. Like kindred spirits, Malich and the aged trapper felt almost drawn to each other, eventually forming a bond not unlike father and son. They both learned from each other as the trapper taught Malich his trade while Malich showed him a few new things regarding forest survival.
As time went on, Malich came to realize that the village would never survive without help. He came to the conclusion that if he wanted to protect his newfound family, he would have to find somewhere he could learn to hone his skills so that he could pass on that knowledge to others capable of learning it in his home village.
- RP Sample:
A stillness hung over the darkened forest like a funeral veil. No animal cried out. No insect chirped. Only the mournful wind occasionally rattled the leaves to remind Him that the forest yet lived. They were coming. The Dark Ones. He could taste their taint in the air. Wait. Stop. Listen. There was more. He pressed His ear to the ground, closing His eyes. Yes. Lots more. The other ones. The ones who walked on two legs, like he could. Then again, so could some of the Dark Ones. Appearance was nothing.
He listened for a long moment, trying to learn all He could. Moving boxes. The other ones were in their moving boxes. As they drew nearer, He began to hear them. They crashed through the forest with all the subtlety of a forest fire. An inferno of stupid. He chuckled as he imagined that they probably thought they were being cautious: they were moving slowly, barely walking speed. As they neared ever closer, He was able to discern two different types of moving boxes: those that were pulled by beasts, and those that moved themselves, spewing black smoke and fire into the air. He could still smell the Dark Ones. They were close. The smell was getting stronger. How the other ones hadn't noticed it yet baffled Him. They were going to die.
He wondered why the other ones kept coming to the forest, only to be slaughtered by the Dark Ones. If they were too weak to live here, then they should live elsewhere. He froze, every hair on the back of His neck on end. It had begun. The other ones could not smell what He could. The other ones were about to die. He lowered Himself as close to the ground as possible, flattening Himself against the forest floor where the dirt and furs covering his body would conceal Him among the most and leaves of the forest floor. The other ones would die soon. It would not be safe until they had.
The first warning the other ones had was a scream as they lost one of their own. The Dark Ones were among them before they could react. The other ones would die soon. Amidst the screams of the other ones and the roar of their firesticks, among the roars of the Dark Ones and the scraping of their claws through flesh and metal, He heard a sound. One that chilled Him to His core. Soft crying and terrified screams, but not of the grown. The other ones had brought their pups. The other ones would die soon. Torn with indecision, He hesitated. The other ones would die soon. Their pups continued to cry. It was not safe to move. The other ones would die soon.
With a low growl He shoved Himself forward, using all four limbs to propel Himself along. He had to hurry. The other ones would die soon. He broke through the foliage as a Dark One reared back to strike down one of the other ones, who was on the ground, fiddling with his firestick. The other ones were weak, helpless without their fancy metal. He had hurt the Dark Ones before, even killed one. But it was no easy task, and there were far more of them than He would normally fight here. He didn't have time to think about anything right now, however. Without a sound, He hurled Himself onto the Dark One’s back and sank His fangs into its shoulder. The snarl of pain was almost enough to cover the initial yelp of surprise as the creature swayed under the sudden weight and pain before grabbing hold of the feral boy attacking it. Sudden pain. Black vision. Open eyes! Move! He rolled to one side to avoid the massive paw coming down at Him.
He'd landed hard on his back after the Dark One had hurled Him from it and straight downwards. Bite! Tear! Instead of rolling away from the creature, the boy had rolled into its other leg and clamped down hard with his fangs on the back of its ankle. It let out a howl of pain and punted the feral away with its free leg. More pain. But victory. Dark one wounded. He stood up painfully and spat out a chunk of black flesh as the Dark One dropped to a knee, its hamstring torn out. An echoing crack ripped through the air and He whirled around to face the source, heart pounding, hackles raised, and fangs bared. The other one had finally gotten his firestick working.
Terror was slowly replaced with disgust as the other one began flapping his gums at Him in some bizarre attempt to communicate. He could flap his gums too, other one. But now was no time to waste. The pups were crying. The other ones would die soon. He tore off towards the next Dark One, intent on tearing it down. The battle was short, but fierce. In the end, only a third of the other ones lived. But the pups were unharmed. His work was done.
It wasn't safe in the open. Time to go. What is this?! He turned sharply, snapping at the hand in his shoulder. The other one it belonged to toppled backwards, landing on his rear without grace. That made Him grin. One of the other ones walked forward, and He growled a warning. The other one dropped to one knee and held something out, bowing his head. Submission? Offering? He was suspicious. But it smelled good. He sniffed it and took it, nibbling a small corner before shoving the entire thing into His mouth at once. Sweet! Such sweet! He had never known a sweetness as this. It reminded Him of the berries He'd eaten when hunting was scarce, but without the bitterness or the stomach pains.
Juices dribbled down His chin as He ravenously devoured the sweet. As He swallowed, the other one seemed to be amused, and held out a sack after raising it to his lips. He took the sack and did the same, surprised when water flowed out. After spilling some, he drank his fill. The sweet had left Him thirsty. He gave the sack back, but it was refused. The message was clear: they wanted Him to keep it. So He did. Again, He turned to leave, but a sound came from the other one who'd fed Him. He turned. The looks on their faces showed terror, uncertainty, and mourning. But more than all else they showed pleading. The message was clear even to Him. They wanted Him to stay. He felt a tug on His leg and looked down. One of the pups had gotten free. It held something out to Him. It was round, smooth on one side and rough on the other. He held it close to His face and sniffed it. Metal. He growled and turned away, vanishing into the forest.
He crouched by Himself as the other ones began to talk. He turned the metal over and over in His hands. He heard their pups begin to cry as the other ones began to move once more. With their numbers and lack of knowledge, they were doomed. The other ones old be dead soon. He let out a low growl. He rose. He would follow. The other ones would not die today.
