Name: Roman T. Malfriet
Gender: Male
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 135lbs
Age: 16 years old (February 13th-Eighth Generation)


Wizard Parent:
Morgan R. Malfriet (Maiden name: Meire)- Seventh Generation
  Born in 1978, she is a thin, pallid woman appearing in her mid 40’s. Gentle in appearance, her soft spoken nature belays a fierce desire to protect.  She worked various temporary odd jobs throughout her life; mostly quiet, obscure jobs that would not warrant lots of attention.  She lived at Dulce most of her life, and took these odd jobs to support herself so that she was not a burden on the family. Especially since she did not make a pact with a spirit until later in her life.

She met her Husband; Erio Malfriet, in Dulce. Where he was being trained as a guardian. It wasn’t until much later, when she was nearing the age of 37 and Erio 44 that she made her first pact with a spirit. At this time they had long been married, though their dedication to the family stalled their goal of having children.

Once this pact was made and their aging significantly stunted, their desire to build a family grew and they decided to leave Dulce to start their own home. It wasn’t even a year later that Morgan became pregnant with Roman.

 

Spirit Information

 
Base Element:  Air
 
[First Spirit]
Name: Thyrandus
Element: Air
A hulking, armored fish. He had taken to swimming the canals of various cityscapes. Solitary and prehistoric, his stagnant persona and apathy stunted his growth. Roman met him by chance and challenged the spirit to a race. Intrigued he complied, easily winning the race. Despite this, he was impressed with the boys imagination and resourcefulness, and  decided to follow Roman. If only to chase away the doldrums.

 
First Spell
 
Gladium Spiritus:
Level  1: Roman can manipulate small special shards of wind, so tightly compact and pointed they form aerial blades. These blades hover above him and can be shot forth as projectiles at an accelerated speed. This can cause anything from a minor cut to a superficial puncture wound, though he can only summon three at a time. There is a lack of control with these blades and he must throw them all at once with each cast.

Level 2: Roman can now summon up to ten blades, each larger and faster than his previous abilities allowed.  These deadly shards of wind are sporadic and dangerous, with the ability to punch through bone and flesh.  Roman has gained more control with these projectiles and can manage to throw only two at time instead of all of them at once.

Level 3: Roman can now control his ten blades perfectly, focusing all or one at a time to strike and slash at an opponent. These deadly wind shards can stretch from a mere foot long projectile to as long as four feet long, though the larger the blade the less Roman can summon at a time and the slower they are.

 

Personal Information

 
Personality:
 Roman is exactly how he appears to be; a smart mouthed, ill-mannered prankster. Overtly crude and unruly, he delights in causing others trouble and discomfort, though by no means is he malicious or ill-meaning. Roman merely enjoys vexing others, and does not fear or hide from the consequences such negative attention gains him. Despite this loud, energetic persona he shows off for the outer world, internally he is a loyal and fierce youth, who desires to protect and defend his surprisingly philanthropic morals.

 
History:
Roman was born to Morgan and Erio Malfriet in the year 2016. Though his mother and father never hid their lineage or the existence of Dulce or spirits, they did not bring him there unless it was necessary. This dictated his memories be scattered with vague concepts and ideas of what he was to expect when he finally decided to go to Dulce.

The boy grew up in a stable; albeit always temporary, home. He was home schooled and thusly never had a thriving social life; most likely this was what caused him to desire friendship and familial attention so desperately. His trickery and trouble making a symptom of his loneliness.

 It wasnt long after his sixteenth birthday that Roman made his first pact. On one of his covert excursion to a nearby city he ran into Thyrandus;  a hulking leviathan of a spirit he had glimpsed a few times before.

Roman challenged the spirit to a race across the cities residential buildings rooftops, boasting he could easily best the aerial spirit in feats of speed and acrobatics. Thyrandus accepted,  amused by the boys arrogance and just bored enough to humor him.

Thyrandus won easily,  but was impressed by the boys determination and cunning. He offered a pact to Roman if the boy promised to keep life interesting.  Roman eagerly agreed and the pact was made, that very night Roman returned to his parents in triumph; proudly introducing Thyrandus to his less than enthused mother and father.

Distressed with their sons recklessness; Erio and Morgan had no choice but to give into Romans wishes and send him to Dulcedomum, where he could be kept safe and taught to harness his magicks.

 
Misc info:  Roman has various peircings, unlike gaurdians these are all normal and have no power or spiritual meaning. He does think they are damn awesome,  however.

The piercing on his tongue is the first one he ever got. His mother took him to get it and she even picked it out for him. He is most proud of this one.

He is very claustrophobic and has a fear of being buried alive.

 
Roleplay Paragraph Sample:

"You sure about this.?"


It was a stupid question, but one Roman (as a human being) felt compelled to ask. Call it a habit ingrained into his genetics,  but he liked to have clarification before risking his life on dumb stunts.


But once again, stupid question.


"When am I ever not sure?"


Roman had to smile at that, predictable Thyrandus. You could always rely on him to be incredulous about everything. The young prankster gave a one-shouldered shrug, causing a crinkle of irritaion to form along the massive spirits snout.

Muscle rippled along Thyrandus' heavy body as he turned to look out over the cityscape. Even at night it bustled and throbbed, Thyrandus would surely miss it. But a pact was a pact and he would follow Roman; speaking of which--

Thyrandus turned in time to catch the red-head smiling at him knowingly. Irked by this, the armored aerial jerked his body a fraction,  connecting the tip of his frontal flipper with Romans' shoulder, causing the boy to grunt and rock forward.

"Geezus! Ok--ok I'll do it"


Roman cast a grimace at his pact-mate, before taking a step towards the roof top ledge. Several stories up,  a fall all the way down meant death. The boy didn't even hesitate.


"I trust you..."


A laugh from behind him whipped the wind up into a flurry,  ruffling Romans' hair. He closed his eyes and stretched his arms out, the toes of his shoes curled over the ledge.


"You shouldn't"