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Nevan Ceren

"I get this strange feeling I'm about to do something stupid."

621 views · located in The Arena Outskirts

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nevan

Description

Image
Image not mine.

Rewriting. Kind of.
Name: Nevan Ceren.
Age: He visits so many alternate dimension he isn't even sure he has an age.
Race: A hybrid of many.

Family

Mother: Kenna
Father: Cenoic
Brother: Abel
Sister: Naomi
Aunt(s): Cinder, Amber
Uncle: Drakus
Cousin: Ezrael

Friends/Associates

Closest Friend: Erocet.
Lover: None.
Other Friends: N/A.

Appearance: Nevan has short, maroon hair and has
developed heterochromia in his right eye, turning it into the
sickly crimson colour shared by so many of his family; in addition,
the Sclera of his right eye is a void-black rather tan white. He
is reasonably tall, lean and tends to wear more modern
clothing than the rest of his kin.

As seen in the image, Nevan also has a rather nasty 'scar'
that runs the length around his neck; with almost stitch-like
properties suggesting he once had his head removed... Then
sewn back on again...

Personality: Nevan is smart-mouthed, quick to taunt his opponents and
overconfident. At the same time, he does what he wants, when he wants to -
causing the trouble he enjoys so greatly.

Weapons:

Genesis: "The large sword was clean and gleaming; the cross-guard more like demonic horns than the normal bland stick of metal. Between these 'horns' were the Demon's head, a goat-like creature with two glowing red orbs for eyes. The neck then descended down; ending the hilt and beginning the large, gleaming blade. It was wide and sharp; with several large, hilt-pointing 'wave' patterns that gave it a nasty serrated property. Finally, the blade ended at the sharp tip - the very end of which was permanently stained red." Genesis is Nevan's primary weapon; unbreakable against even the strongest forces. Its size and shape makes it resemble a Zweihander.

Exodus: To come.

Leviticus: To come.

Abilities: With his lineage and sword in hand, Nevan is, by
birth, a naturally powerful guy. He can survive injuries that would
otherwise fatally harm another, often with little more to show for it
than another scar. He is also capable of superhuman strength, speed
and agility.

Nevan, sharing the blood of his father, is capable of blood magic.
His particular area of blood magic seems to be direct manipulation;
he is even able to surround himself in an armour that makes him
appear much more demonic. He is also capable of, to an extent,
rapidly regenerating his cells, meaning his blood can potentially
multiply. However, his failing comes from exhaustion and severe
injuries - not even he can keep up forever.

Through childhood education received by his Father, Nevan is also
capable of a certain other type of magic: that of wielding a black
flame that can manifest tricks and illusions to confuse his opponent.
As of yet, it can't really be used to either offensively or defensively.

In addition to this, his right, unusual eye is immune to forces of bright,
otherwise blinding light and allows him to see forces of Demonic magic;
giving him something of an advantage against them.

So begins...

Nevan Ceren's Story

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In crept the young Nevan, who had been stalking his mother for a while now. His family were always leaving him alone... He hated it. Well not today! Today, he was going with her.

His father always made him nervous, and his siblings were always missing, so it was only right that Kenna do herself some babysitting for once, and take him along with her! He was only young... Around ten, perhaps, yet still older than his younger sister, who, for some reason, was actually older than him... He never bothered asking, he knew he wouldn't understand.

Watching the fight, Nevan slipped away from the door and began making his way underneath the tables. He wore upper-class, yet relatively simple clothes of an almost Victorian fashion. On his back was strapped a wooden sword, his only piece of equipment.

But then, a couple of explosions and shouts of anger left Nevan frozen there in wonder and fear. Although, as was common in his family, he did the completely ridiculous thing and instead stood up - charging at Cinder with the wooden sword in his hand, yelling a child's battle cry.

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Nevan Ceren actually had no idea what to do when he got within hitting distance. He knew he was supposed to hit her, but where, how? He was so distraught over the matter that in the end, he never even swung it. He just ran into Cinder, then turned around and ran back underneath the table he came from.

"Maybe I should've thrown it instead?" He asked himself, a heavy blush of embarrassment on his face.

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Nevan Ceren looked up towards the two sisters, then the man who was trying to protect him. Well, he knew what to do! Why didn't he think of it before?

He unbuttoned his jacket, then fumbled around inside it until a pout of annoyance led him to take it off completely. "Come o-on... Where are you?" He asked himself, as he sat there and shook it vigorously until out dropped small, slim and incredibly annoyed-looking snake. It was purple, with strange yellow eyes.

The first thing Nevan did was point at Cinder and shout "Charge!".
Nothing...
"Attack!".
Nothing again.
"Go! Send that woman to the abyss with your poisonous bite!"
The snake flicked it's tongue at him, then seemed to slither off in a completely different direction. It was, of course, a completely harmless species he found in the grass in the garden.

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Nevan Ceren peered up at Torin with an annoyed look. "'cause my Mother's being attacked, that's why," he grumbled, before noticing that yet another person had approached him: Diana.

"Because I don't want her to get hurt." He repeated, but a little differently worded and a little more sternly. "Ahh! I know! Don't worry, Mom, I'll get some help!"

At that, he tugged at the chain he wore around his neck, until he found the gift his father had given him. He had stolen such a key many times from his parents, in the end, it seemed, his Father got fed up and decided to get him his own. Now... Could he remember how to make it?

He sat there in thought while twiddling the small object between fingers.

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Nevan Ceren unscrewed the top of the small object, then poured a small amount of glowing, light blue liquid onto the wooden floor. He hesitated for a moment, then dipped his finger in with a wince... He expected it to hurt, to burn, but instead it merely felt cool against his skin.

He shivered, then spread the liquid with his finger as he drew a circle around himself. A dot landed in the middle, then expanded quickly to fill a circular pool. Nevan got out of the way just in time, then peered down into the portal. "Quick! She needs help!" He called into the liquid.

A moment or two later, a creature surfaced. It was a black silhouette, a vaguely humanoid shape that was constantly dripping a never-ending supply of ink-like substance. It crawled out from under the table, followed by two more of a similar nature.

Standing tall, their bodies morphed and changed shape, growing deadly blades and hammers. They then went after Cinder, there merely to help Kenna out in her fight.

They weren't too fast or particularly strong, but wounds received could regenerate, and their figures could change completely. They focused their tactics on Cinder's rear and flanks.


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Nevan Ceren scooted over to the sleeping woman and sat there. Determined to be a guard until she woke up. He kept the ink creatures around, too. Not to mention the wooden sword which he held in his hand.

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Nevan Ceren entered the bar for the second time that he could remember. He was a young lad, perhaps 11-12 years of age, wearing a rather strange dress pattern that you'd expect to find in some sort of medieval fantasy video game, rather than any "current" location.

His shoes were dark and polished, his trousers brown and made out of some sort of felt and his shirt white and buttoned up smartly; right up to his neck. He also, of course, had a wooden sword strapped to his back via a large belt, which crossed from right shoulder to left hip with the buckle over his middle.

What was he doing there? He didn't really know, he was just bored. He often found himself alone and exploring, so why should he find himself confined to his Parents' estate?

The boy started to walk across the room, brushing his brown hair out of his similarly coloured eyes, while using them to peer around at the few currently in the room. He stopped just by the counter in order to say, "I'm bored..."

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Nevan Ceren had no idea what to do now. People were suddenly entering, something he remembered his Father telling him was not a coincidence. There was no such thing... They were there for a reason and it would be rude of him not to find out what that reason was.

But on the other hand, what would his mother say? His fathers advise was often sound, and the boy respected him because he told it. But at the same time, he respected her... She would probably just tell him to go and enjoy himself, or something cliche like that.

"Uhh..." The boy vocalized, before pushing himself up onto a stool at the counter.

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Nevan Ceren suddenly felt the heat of a woman's scorn... "Uhh... Hi?" The boy asked Capella somewhat nervously as he turned to look at her. He took a deep breath, but soon decided to try and fight past the glower directed at him. He did so by holding his hand out for the woman to shake. "I'm Nevan."

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"I'unno. Bored, I guess," he answered somewhat lamely. He was quick to snatch back his hand- the idea of a woman holding it for too long... Yeurgh. It made him feel a little juddery.

"Why? I am allowed, right?" He asked as he peered behind him to look for some sort of sign. "I didn't see one on the way in here..."

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"I'm truly very sorry to hear that," he said to Capella, while bowing his head in apology. Oh, his Father had told him all about birthdays. About how they were horrible, miserable times used only for marking on your calender that you were one stage closer to your inevitable death at the hands of those you trust most.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?" He asked, as he looked back up to face her directly in the eye. Why hadn't she cried? He always cried on his birthdays.

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"Yeah, what else would I be sorry for?" He asked as he slipped down from the stool and began to wander around a nearby table. Just keep it going, he said to himself. Just keep the boredom at bay; do whatever he had to do get something out of the situation. Even if it meant walking around in a circle until the woman got curious enough to ask him what he was doing.

But then he stopped... On second thought, he didn't care if she asked him. The boy turned back to the older girl and shrugged.

"So, how's things?"

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Nevan Ceren did that. ^

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Nevan Ceren mimicked the act of being sick all over Grape and Flinn as they walked past.

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At that moment, a child walked into the bar. A boy, as it went, who was ten years old and carried with him a wooden sword that was strapped to his back via one of his father's belts. He seemed perfectly normal, with his slightly posh clothes and his natural brown hair.
The only particularly unusual thing about him was the walking green rectangle who followed him like a dog; Creeper, or Creeps, as he was known by Nevan. Creeps stayed silent, looking positively nervous that someone would nudge him and set his fuse off. Although with his strange facial expression made out of black voids, a small white bunny rabbit and a sign in his hand offering "free hugs!", he looked somewhat conspicuous.

The boy led the two of them over to a booth, where they sat down and looked around.

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Huh... An older girl, and she liked that piece of crap he had with him? Sheesh, why couldn't he get a real sword already?!
"Uhh... Thanks, I suppose?" The boy replied with a shrug. "I wanted a metal one, y'know... Fathers..." Nevan looked down at the table with an embarrassed sigh. That stupid man was constantly promising to train him and upgrade his weaponry, but he had received not one lesson... Maybe it was time to go to his Mother instead?

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"Oh, him? That's Creeps. He's a 'reformed' Creeper, but he'll still blow up if you get too close to him. I mean, for some reason me and that rabbit on his head are the only things that don't cause him to spontaneously combust."

Placing his hand over his shoulder, Nevan pulled out that wooden sword and slid it along the table towards Dizzy, while saying, "Y'can look at it, if you want. And I'm pretty sure I want a metal one."

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Nevan Ceren stared at Dizzy in disbelief... "I'm ten and more mature than you, lady," he revealed whilst watching her hold the sword like some sort of buffoon. "Pfft, whatever. I'm Nevan."

He closed his eyes, folded his arms over his chest, then leaned back in his seat to try and cut out the noises made by Nikka and the fight or whatever she was trying to break up.

"This place sucks."

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"Yeah, well to be honest, I don't think anything sucks more than a vampire." Nevan said, before placing his hand over his mouth to stop himself from spontaneously bursting into laughter at his purely-by-accident pun. However, that smirk was soon wiped off his face and he lay back into his seat again.
"Besides, I'm kinda more important than a Princess... My mother and father are pretty much worshipped in this place. They're like Gods or somethin'."

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The sixteen year old known as Nevan pushed into the bar with a heavy yawn; a bored, monotone expression passing a glance at the near-empty room with nothing more than a sigh to complement it. "This place is a fuckin' buzz kill," the teen replied as he dragged his feet over to the counter and plopped himself down on a stool.

"Oi, Old Man," he said to get the attention of the Bartender. "Gemme a Vodka."

"How about no?" The man replied with a growl. "You're underage. Getout."

"Look, the day has been harsh, yeah? Just get me my damn drink or I'll kick your ass and rob the place."

"Pah! Damn kids. I'd like to see you tr-" but before the Bartender could finish, the tip of a dagger had thudded firmly into the wooden surface of the counter; directly in between the man's middle and forefinger... A deadly aim. That shut the guy up, all right. Nevan could only grin as the Old Man gave up. "I'll... Get you that drink now," the man said cautiously while pulling his hand away from the knife and backing off to the cabinet behind him.

"Good man," Nevan replied with a smirk.

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"Whatever, Ero," he said with a shrug as he watched her take the dagger for herself. "Keep it, those things are way too small for my liking anyway. Pfft."

He reached his hand out and quickly took one of the Vodka bottles set down by the Bartender, as though he expected the old man to snatch it back up and send him on his way now the dagger was gone. "We won't be payin', by the way. Do I look like I carry money around?"

Actually, he did. But the point stood that at that moment, he was broke. Poor Erocet, she was stuffed if she thought she was gonna get some outta him.

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Nevan Ceren shrugged and stroked his hair back over his ears to stop it falling in front of his face. "Yep, I noticed. Don't worry about it, it's just some Patron. Y'get a lot of those here, besides, I don't actually blame her. You hafta remember that I am sitting here, Ero."

The Teenager grinned and used the strength of his thumb alone to flick the top from the vodka bottle, at which point he took a big sip. "Ahh, I needed that... And what have I been up to? Nothin' really. Kicking all kinds of ass. You?"

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Nevan Ceren sighed and took another swig of his vodka. "Pssh, we both know you didn't miss me. I mean, it's cute you're trying to act all innocent and shit, but after some of the stuff I've seen you do, ya gonna have to try harder than that," the Teen said with a grin.

"And your ass kicking? Better than mine? Pfft, now I know you're trying to pull my leg." He could only shake his head, his toothy grin gleaming. "So, specifically... Anything new? Something that don't have 'kick' and 'ass' in the same sentence perhaps?"

He stood up, his ears on Erocet while he went to swap his stool for a chair. Once done, he sat himself down in it, leaned against the back and put his feet up on the counter surface.

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"Ugh... Let's think... I lay in the Garden, slept... Uhh... Video games, TV... Couple of fights. I think I blew up a Brothel, but I may have been on Drugs at the time so I'm not entirely sure what happened."

The boy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, then turned his head on its side to view the tiger that had caught Erocet's attention. "You want one? I can probably go and kidnap it for ya. Or get yo one of your own. I mean, I should... Wait. Is there a zoo in town? I can go get you one literally right at this minute, if you want."

The boy sighed... He was starting to feel strange. Awesome? Definitely. A heavyweight drinker? Definitely not. He took another sip.

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"I have no idea, Ero. Also, a little tip: don't smoke weed."

He eyed the dagger the woman was pointing at him so fiercely and gave a slight shrug. "Don't worry. Nothin' happened. I remember I didn't even get past the gate... Hang on, I think your friend wants you."

A godsend change of subject! He realized with a grin as he nodded over towards Silk Khan. "I reckon I'll leave you two to it."