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 fabled, vernon, griffin played by zaa
years old 34 posts PM
NAME(S) vernon GENDER male AGE 843 BIRTHDAY December 19th SPECIES griffin OCCUPATION Owner of Crow’s Nest, an antique shop in Keystone FACE CLAIM
<fc>my hero academia, [b]aizawa shouta[/b] - vernon</fc>

All that glitters

Hatched so many years ago, he only knew the comforts of his nest and his parents’ territory. A sibling had hatched with him, an “older” brother, though the two were only hours apart in age. He knew the comforts of the wild, far removed from mankind. He had never seen a human, though he had been warned to stay far away from them for they would pluck his feathers and rip his beak from his face for their medicines. He had no interest in man, only in hunting and while he grew alongside his brother his parents kept them safe from any creatures that would dare scale their mountain to bother them.

When of age, both he and his brother were chased away by their father, sent to find their own territory. He was fumbling sort of thing, a good hunter but finding safe territory was a hard task. Young he was, and so he was often chased out of more prosperous lands by larger griffins. He was too small to have much of a chance defending himself from larger beasts, and so this process continued for many years. No matter how far he moved from mankind it seemed that there were always other griffins out to take his land, much to the beast’s annoyance. It seemed that there was less and less territory with each passing day.

When he was stronger, it was his turn to chase the fletchlings out of promising territory, and soon enough he had settled himself on a mountain in a place he felt would be far enough away from man to keep him safe. For many years it was, he was left in peace, though occasionally he had to defend his lands from other griffins that sought to make their home there as time went on he saw less and less of them. Slowly but surely, mankind moved closer. Their homes creeping closer and closer to the base of his mountain. Leaving would be the safer option, but this was his land, and so he simply avoided the humans that dwelled so close to him, too close.

It seemed with each passing day the humans inched closer, building what appeared to be roads and driving their strange moving metal beings along them. Strange. It was all so very strange, and while the beast had no interest in mingling amongst them -- what a disaster that would be! -- he would watch them from the safety of his mountain. He watched the settlement turn into a town, and then a city. Soon the entirety of his territory was completely gone. He was left with no food, and few sources of water, but he had been here for so long it pained him to think of leaving.

Never did the beast desire to be human, but it seem that with no other option available to him he would have to walk among them. No matter how far he flew away there would always be the interference of man, and so he shoved his distaste for them aside. It seemed that even without him willing it, the beast became a man, only for the sake of survival. Hands and feet replaced talons and claws, his beak becoming a nose. He had no knowledge of human customs though, nor the fact that they seemed to require clothes, and so when he entered the city to find food he was met with startled shrieks and things thrown at him.

He was assumed to be a drunk, naked and confused in this current form, and it was a kind man that lent him a coat and guided him somewhere safe. Human speech was not something he understood, and he was assumed to be simple. The man who had rescued him was kind, fed him and kept him clothed. In the beginning the beast had nothing to give him in turn for his kindness, had no way to thank him with words. He began to learn though, began to understand certain things when he found words it came as a surprise to both of them.

Slowly he found his footing, assimilated just a bit more. It was a pain, for the beast only wanted to fly, to spread his wings and sink his talons into prey. There was no longer prey here, nothing to catch, and for the sake of his survival he walked among humans. He took to helping his guardian with his metalworking, longing for the treasure he had left behind. He did collect things here and there, little trinkets that sparkled and caught his eye, but it never felt like enough.

He came to find that names were important amongst humans, but the name he knew for himself was a series of sounds he found himself unable to emulate in this form. His guardian had simply called him “boy” until it was discovered that he truly had no name, and so the man had given him one. Vernon O'Neal, that would be the beast’s name. It was a name he came to associate with himself, and a name he’d soon find stitched into a uniform.

War was a common thing among humans. He had heard talk of it on the radio, heard that a land far away was putting its own people in camps, killing them. Vernon had no interest in it. He only cared about the wellbeing of one human. Unfortunately the war soon became his problem, for the human that had taken him in had been drafted. This was a man no longer in his prime, but eager to serve his country and Vernon knew if this man went to war he would be nothing more than a body on the field. So, they both went.

Taking orders was not an easy task for a beast that had only known freedom for so long, but he shoved his pride aside for the sake of keeping his companion safe. It was a pain to have to use guns when his talons would serve much better, but there was no place for such a beast on the battlefield, at least not this one, and so Vernon did as he was commanded.

Humans are barbaric, he came to find. They thirsted for the blood of innocent people. The battlefield was a massacre of both allies and enemies, and Vernon could not keep his companion safe from all threats. It was a landmine that killed the man, wounded Vernon, but his wounds would heal. His companion was not so lucky, and with the loss of his legs and too much blood Vernon watched the life fade from his eyes. It was not honor that kept him on the battlefield, but anger.

When the war came to an end...Vernon was unsure of what to do with himself. He had had enough of mankind. Their wars disgusted him, their petty squabbles repulsed him. It pleased him, if nothing else, to know that he had fought on the winning side because the acts of the enemy were repugnant. He had been in squabbles amongst his own kind in the past, killed other griffins that threatened his treasures or territory, but never was it something he took joy in. It was something that needed to be done, and to see humans acting so cruelly to eachother...he wanted no part of it.

The form he had held for years unravelled once he returned home and once again Vernon walked as a beast. He had missed his nest, missed his treasures, and while many of them were gone he still took comfort in their presence. He couldn’t stay, not with humans creeping closer and closer. For many years he travelled, soaring high as he moved from place to place. It was becoming harder and harder to find isolated pockets of land to call home, and he knew there was no way he would be able to truly live without mingling with man. He fought it for many years, but he knew that there would need to be give and take in this, that he would need to be both human and beast.

He had no interest in man, but he did enter their cities and towns more often. He needed food and...also came to find that there were place that sold trinkets that he came to prize. With his current nomadic nature it became impossible for him to carry much, and much to his dismay he had to leave many of the trinkets he found within the stores he saw them in. He also needed a job in order to pay for such things…

More stumbling, because the world he returned to was not the same as the one he had left, but Vernon forced himself to interact with the humans he had come to dislike so much. It wasn’t until he reached Mythril that he found himself able to live a bit more...freely. With the trinkets he had left over from his original treasure, he was able to open a business. The profit of antiques was not something that interested him, he simply wanted to have them. While he doesn’t like humans much, he likes the interesting little things they collect, and so he’s made a business of buying, selling, and trading such things. He keeps more interesting things for his own collection.

Bits and bobs

  • Since coming to Mythril he’s established a bit of territory in the mountains that surround the city. He’s built himself a home in the isolation of the forest. The commute to work is a pain.

  • He doesn’t care much about the monetary value of his antiques, he mostly just sells ones he thinks aren’t pretty enough or interesting.

  • He stands at 6’2

  • His legs have some pretty gnarly scars from landmine shrapnel, he still walks with a bit of a limp though it isn’t entirely noticeable.

  • After his human buddy died, Vernon stopped using the last name he'd been given so now he simply goes by Vernon.
Vernon is a griffin and shares their strengths and weaknesses. In his bestial form Vernon is about as big as griffins get, though unlike many others of his kind he isn’t particularly bulky. He’s relatively slender in build, most of his body covered in black fur and feathers though the feathers that decorate his head are more silver in color.

reference since words are hard
years old 1 posts PM
oh gosh i wanna hug him ;w; beautiful app
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