OOC: Kieran's debut~ Not Murkrow Kieran btw >=o
BIC:
A young boy stood at the furthest point of the Frozen North, which pointed east towards Crescent Isle. Crescent Isle seemed like a totally different world compared to the frozen wasteland, like polar opposites facing each other, ready to battle. The land itself seemed as hostile as the handful of people that had been thrown there, each one ripped from their own world and time and made to fight for someone's pleasure.
Most of the people were seasoned warriors, or so it seemed. Kieran wasn't a warrior, and the fact that he was whisked away from his life and into this game only added to his list of woes. The boy seemed like he couldn't be older than ten, though he was older, but only by a few years. He would never look older than ten, though, and nothing could change that.
The boy's pale skin seemed even paler in the ruthless cold. His black hair was long enough to be ruffled by the cutting winds. He was only clothed in a purple t-shirt, only the collar of which was visible from under a black, over-sized hoodie sweatshirt that ended just bellow the boy's pelvis. On his lower-half were a pair of grey skinny jeans and a pair of purple sneakers that had no place being used in the tundra. Thankfully the boys clothes had certain enchantments against wear and tear, thanks to an acquaintance back home, but they still offered little protection against the cold. The boy's inhuman body offered him a bit more tolerance for cold than a normal person, but in such sub-zero temperatures it hardly mattered.
His hood was up and in his ears were a pair of earbuds that led to an MP3 player in the boy's jeans. He couldn't tell you what song he was listening to - he was too depressed to care. It was something upbeat, probably one of the latest club hits from back home. Music was one thing that did make Kieran happy, music and Katherine, the woman who had taken him in when no one else would. The very act of taking him away from her was enough to drive him to find a way back home, but since coming here it seemed as if he'd been even more depressed than he normally was. It took all his determination to return home in order to not succumb to his despair and give up. The only reason he was in the north was in search of some of the Moon Order's members. As far as he knew, winning whatever sick war they were in was the key to getting home, back to his life and back to Katherine.
Kieran removed a hand from the sweatshirt's big pocket, slid it out of the long sleeve, and shook some ice out of his hair - leftover from when he had frozen to death about fifteen minutes prior. He would die again within the next half-hour, but it was all right - he would come back like he always did.
The boy's unnatural eyes scanned the frozen chunks of ice out in the water, but saw no one. His eyes were a dark, rich purple, almost like amethyst, but the pupils were thin slits, almost vampiric. Normally he had contacts to obscure his frightening eyes, but in this world he didn't bother. Perhaps they could serve to his advantage by intimidating a possible opponent. A possible opponent which would obviously not be found in the Frozen North. With a deep sigh Kieran turned around, making his way back towards the warmth of the mainland.
In order to avoid dying three or four times in the time it would take for him to go back on foot Kieran decided to try a faster way. From the boy's back burst a black sort of energy. Anyone would assume that it was darkness and that the boy was an umbrakinetic. But he wasn't. A look at his eyes and one would think that maybe it was unholy energy or magic, but that also wasn't the case. It was sorrow. Sorrow manifested into something tangible.
The energy formed into a pair of massive black wings, allowing the boy the take flight towards the mainland.
