Name: Cyril Morose
Age: He looks like he's in his Twenties? Supposedly?
Gender: Male
Appearance: Here
Bio: The life of a shinigami isn't a hard one to follow up on. Though.. Before Cyril was an official one he had a few hardships to go through. He was always fascinated with death. It wasn't much in an unusual, creeper way.. But he found it interesting to believe that everything would eventually come to an end, whether it was good or bad. When he started out in the shinigami realm, he was nothing but a simple assistant to one of the greatest Shinigamis the realm had ever known. This man was wonderful. He knew all the tricks, some that people were baffled by because they, themselves, had never encountered something like that.
Cyril had someone to look up to as he grew up. Throughout the years, Cyril picked up on the tricks. Though it didn't mean that he had to do some embarrassing tasks. Some of those being things such as hauling around whatever 'hellbeasts' were around. Shinigami favored those as pets and they liked to eat anything smaller than them. For Cyril's sake he was glad to know that he was tall for his age as a kid. The young male never missed a beat with whatever happened in the Shinigami realm. If there was an execution, he never missed one. Many thought Shinigami couldn't ever die, but there were exceptions. One being if a Shinigami fell in love with a human and they save them. Another would be betrayal or failing the trials that would follow once they came of age.
Once Cyril's own coming of age trials had come up, he was unsure if he would pass or not. As a child, he was rather self conscious, often being picked on for his unusual hair color, seeing as most Shinigami actually had pigmentations in their hair instead of plain white. Too bad those shinigami would come to realize that he was destined to be one of the best as he would progress in his hears of 'aging.' Toward the time when he was twenty one, actually twenty one, his time came. He trained day in and day out, nonstop and until all of his bones were broken. Which.. Didn't matter much, considering the realm had some of the best healers humanity would never know about. Which was the way everything was kept. Secret. The shinigamis rarely let themselves become known to humans, knowing that it could turn the wrong way and things would end up..Fatal, most likely. There were exceptions, though. Cyril was up, his opponent being someone who towered over him. Everyone thought Cyril was a goner, no more little unusual boy. But to their surprise he managed to bring that giant off of his feet before the first round was over. Though he did get a few cuts and bruises here and there, it was nothing that would ruin his chances at becoming a shinigami.
Now came the time where he was going to be given a surname just in case he ever needed to come in contact with humans and figure out who was behind a murder, needed hints and tips about people who have been dying or were rumored to die next, everything. They bestowed onto him, jokingly, the surname 'Morose', from the human dictionary word. Ironically, his last name normally describes people who are ill tempered and get angry very easily, when in comparison to Cyril himself it is by far. Even as a Shinigami, he was playful, courteous, kind, and an overall swell guy to be around. This wasn't bad, they figured, when he would be around humans. If his charm couldn't win people over, his wits and attractive outlook would definitely do it.
He had been through extensive training, rigorous trials, and yet he still wasn't admitted into the human world. His teacher didn't think he was ready just yet. From what he had learned from the humans, he passed on to Cyril, in great hopes that it would aide the male with whatever he encountered. What the older man never spoke about, though, was love. Apparently he had fallen victim to falling in love with a human, but his feelings were unrequited. Unfortunately, his master never elaborated on who the human was, nor when this was. He figured Cyril didn't need to be burdened with his mistake and his forever aching memories of the person he loved most. When the time came for Cyril to depart, they made sure that they had their 'contacts' set up a home for the shinigami in the popular town of London. Nobody would ever suspect him, the happy go lucky owner of a bakery.
Once he headed into London, Cyril immediately took to studying all he could about baking in that time period. He mastered it easily and set up a small bakery at the edge of town. For quite a long time people raved about his baked goods. Many would often say that his baked goods were to die for. Oh, if only they knew the irony of that statement there. Cyril found great pride from his baking, sometimes even spoiling himself with a treat or two, though he didn't care that much for human food.
He found great pride when he took the life of an evil, evil man. He had raped many innocent girls relentlessly and was about to die himself from a terrible disease. Using his polished, over sized scythe, he took this man's life and made sure his soul went to the deepest pit of hell. He had never felt so much better, and that was when his job began officially. He had passed judgment on those who were good and those who were bad and often made sure those good souls went where they deserved to be. Recently, there had been an outbreak of people dying from what he remembered was called 'The Plague.' Cyril didn't mind, though. That would mean there would be more souls to take and put into the place where they truly belong.
Fun Facts-
He soon came upon a young woman named Tessa Lockwell when she was assisting a burial.
Soon after he would watch her every night, leaving anonymous love letters in the cemetary.
Age: He looks like he's in his Twenties? Supposedly?
Gender: Male
Appearance: Here
Bio: The life of a shinigami isn't a hard one to follow up on. Though.. Before Cyril was an official one he had a few hardships to go through. He was always fascinated with death. It wasn't much in an unusual, creeper way.. But he found it interesting to believe that everything would eventually come to an end, whether it was good or bad. When he started out in the shinigami realm, he was nothing but a simple assistant to one of the greatest Shinigamis the realm had ever known. This man was wonderful. He knew all the tricks, some that people were baffled by because they, themselves, had never encountered something like that.
Cyril had someone to look up to as he grew up. Throughout the years, Cyril picked up on the tricks. Though it didn't mean that he had to do some embarrassing tasks. Some of those being things such as hauling around whatever 'hellbeasts' were around. Shinigami favored those as pets and they liked to eat anything smaller than them. For Cyril's sake he was glad to know that he was tall for his age as a kid. The young male never missed a beat with whatever happened in the Shinigami realm. If there was an execution, he never missed one. Many thought Shinigami couldn't ever die, but there were exceptions. One being if a Shinigami fell in love with a human and they save them. Another would be betrayal or failing the trials that would follow once they came of age.
Once Cyril's own coming of age trials had come up, he was unsure if he would pass or not. As a child, he was rather self conscious, often being picked on for his unusual hair color, seeing as most Shinigami actually had pigmentations in their hair instead of plain white. Too bad those shinigami would come to realize that he was destined to be one of the best as he would progress in his hears of 'aging.' Toward the time when he was twenty one, actually twenty one, his time came. He trained day in and day out, nonstop and until all of his bones were broken. Which.. Didn't matter much, considering the realm had some of the best healers humanity would never know about. Which was the way everything was kept. Secret. The shinigamis rarely let themselves become known to humans, knowing that it could turn the wrong way and things would end up..Fatal, most likely. There were exceptions, though. Cyril was up, his opponent being someone who towered over him. Everyone thought Cyril was a goner, no more little unusual boy. But to their surprise he managed to bring that giant off of his feet before the first round was over. Though he did get a few cuts and bruises here and there, it was nothing that would ruin his chances at becoming a shinigami.
Now came the time where he was going to be given a surname just in case he ever needed to come in contact with humans and figure out who was behind a murder, needed hints and tips about people who have been dying or were rumored to die next, everything. They bestowed onto him, jokingly, the surname 'Morose', from the human dictionary word. Ironically, his last name normally describes people who are ill tempered and get angry very easily, when in comparison to Cyril himself it is by far. Even as a Shinigami, he was playful, courteous, kind, and an overall swell guy to be around. This wasn't bad, they figured, when he would be around humans. If his charm couldn't win people over, his wits and attractive outlook would definitely do it.
He had been through extensive training, rigorous trials, and yet he still wasn't admitted into the human world. His teacher didn't think he was ready just yet. From what he had learned from the humans, he passed on to Cyril, in great hopes that it would aide the male with whatever he encountered. What the older man never spoke about, though, was love. Apparently he had fallen victim to falling in love with a human, but his feelings were unrequited. Unfortunately, his master never elaborated on who the human was, nor when this was. He figured Cyril didn't need to be burdened with his mistake and his forever aching memories of the person he loved most. When the time came for Cyril to depart, they made sure that they had their 'contacts' set up a home for the shinigami in the popular town of London. Nobody would ever suspect him, the happy go lucky owner of a bakery.
Once he headed into London, Cyril immediately took to studying all he could about baking in that time period. He mastered it easily and set up a small bakery at the edge of town. For quite a long time people raved about his baked goods. Many would often say that his baked goods were to die for. Oh, if only they knew the irony of that statement there. Cyril found great pride from his baking, sometimes even spoiling himself with a treat or two, though he didn't care that much for human food.
He found great pride when he took the life of an evil, evil man. He had raped many innocent girls relentlessly and was about to die himself from a terrible disease. Using his polished, over sized scythe, he took this man's life and made sure his soul went to the deepest pit of hell. He had never felt so much better, and that was when his job began officially. He had passed judgment on those who were good and those who were bad and often made sure those good souls went where they deserved to be. Recently, there had been an outbreak of people dying from what he remembered was called 'The Plague.' Cyril didn't mind, though. That would mean there would be more souls to take and put into the place where they truly belong.
Fun Facts-
He soon came upon a young woman named Tessa Lockwell when she was assisting a burial.
Soon after he would watch her every night, leaving anonymous love letters in the cemetary.