DeeCee's Profile

Topic started by DCypher on Jan. 29, 2012. Last post by DCypher 2 years, 11 months ago.
Post by DCypher (117 posts) See mini bio Level 15

Delaney Cyrus-Morouni

  • Height: 5'10
  • Weight: 207 lbs
  • Eyes: Blue
  • Hair colour: Dirty Blonde/Auburn
  • Aliases: DeeCee, Saifar.
  • Occupation: Self Employed Inventor, Doctor; Graduated from Warwick University, Potion Master trained under Mother Aleinia and owner of Mr.Misakis Magical Maladies.
  • Hobbies: Animal training, cooking, listening to music and entertaining.
  • Appearance: Usually wearing a long tan coat over a white shirt, khakis and a pair of loafers. Winter equals a beanie hat and scarf. He keeps his hair no longer than the back of his neck. Some people say he has wild eyes.


Naturally calm with an agile and inventive mind Lain is well like by his customers and peers in the scientific community. Dalliances with magic have mostly ended badly leaving him with a sceptical view of most spokem forms of arcane wisdom, he prefers the physical dimensions. Working for years with his Mother, after his Father died at the tender age of five, he learned how to use the growing world around him to enhance his own natural abilities. Mostly the focus of his childhood was making enough money to survive, as such he helped his Mother gather and make potions and medicinces for the people of his small hometown making him quite humble by nature.

He comes across as laxadaisical or even lazy at times, mostly because he stays far from war and conflict, but when the time calls for him to protect himself or his business he can.

He doesn't consider himself to be super human and isn't chasing power, as he sees it, the powers he holds should be for everyone to use and understand. People's ignorance is a constant hinderance.


As stated, raised by his Mother as a sort of tribal doctor for a small community in Rural England, Lain was home schooled. His Father died out at sea at such a young age he could scarcely remember, his Mother had boyfriends from year to year but nothing stuck. Everything was pretty normal until he was sixteen.

He wished to go to school and study the curriculum with other children his age, but his Mother forbade it and was forced to tell him about what he was capable of. This led him to accept his fate but he began to study darker and more potent magicks, by Eighteen he had been exiled from home for setting somebodies dog on fire.

Despite this he went to university and studied modern medicine, formulating and continuing his own studies in private but using the extensive research equipment available in Higher Education. This is where he began to invent new forumlae, combinbing magic and natural remedies to make the body a more efficient vessel for channeling energy. Ultimately by his second year he was at a block that required a human test subject, which would be impossible not too mention abhorrent to a Sociologist, the data could so easily be contaminated. So he set about using potions on himself and managed to achieve many amazing feats, control of the weather, flaming body parts, temporary blindness and incoporeality to name a few. The issue remained he could not control any of these for a long period of time or maintain their effects, too much seemed relevant to replacing cells in the blood stream with what were like white cell conductors that could gather and hold in certain neutrinos and release them over time. It was tiresome work and he barely made his Doctorate by the time he had managed to achieve any worthwhile goals.

As soon as he finished University he stopped experimenting, testing, on himself and went home. Now almost out of business his Mother welcomed him home and he was able to transform not just the business but also the township with his amazing blending skills. His Mother however fell ill, not being able to make anything to save her was not the problem, she refused to allow him. This was to destroy his hopeful, wistless nature, Lain became dark and obsessed with stopping war at any cost. He began to design darker and darker machines.

As of now he maintains the shop easily enough opening occasionaly and at agreed times, whilst travelling around learning more about the nature of the beings that walk this strange planet.

Abilities and Tools

  • BioGen Powered Scooter - Pretty simple design really and an easy way of getting around. Can only get about 4 metres off the ground at a serious push and tops out around 40 mph. The fuel is hand-made by Lain and not only safe, but outputs a form of self oxygenating carbon molecules that catalyse in sunlight
  • Healing Potions - Lain has a whole heap of different ways to fix people up, most disease or poison based attacks are going to have little effect as he put himself through a lot. He can't regrow body parts in a sinch, but over time, its possible but dangerous. And floppy. As for energy, adrenaline, vitamins and such he can keep himself in pretty top condition during a fight.

Invisibility - There are two powers he can maintain for a short period of time; this is one of them. The potion he takes is called Caelum de Sactum, Shield of Heaven, it turns your skin into a reflective mesh that synthesises colours, maps to sunlight and shadow, makes you basically look like a weird glob on right in someones eye. It can only last for ten to twenty minutes before it starts to become permanent and it has a hard toll on the digestive system unless you have the conductors infused with your blood.

Flight/Weightlessness - Flying is not possible but the potion here is a simple blend of certain illegal substances, painkillers, inhibitors and a handy brewing trick that makes it affect the body on a molecular level. Lain simply calls it, Float, its effect is to make the atoms in your body reverberate (shake) faster than normal giving the effect that the weight can move more easily. Lain has a hand made paraglider in a stretched kidney shape that he pull tight and fly up with, then float down, its very effective off of the scooter. But expensive.


Pet - Shyro - An old friend who's unfortunately been turned into a sort of warped three foot long furry dragon, Lain takes it as his responsibility to fix him (or at least look after him) as much as is possible. They have a form of communication with a microphone attached to Shryro's larynx and an earpiece, though it tends to get a bit heated at times.


Mr.Misakis Magical Maladies:

The shop he owns, his Mother owned before him, is situated in Long Island, New York. It sits atop a skyscraper looking up Lady Liberties skirt. There's a pod where he lives with himself, everything else is a covered garden with a shed where he keeps all the important equipment. Home from home, very few people actually know where this place is due to some very clever plants growing on the exterior.

Post by UsachanMaN (4,663 posts) See mini bio Level 16

@DCypher: Sweet bio! and welcome to the RPG community! :D

Post by Masako_Hihashi (594 posts) See mini bio Level 10


Post by DCypher (117 posts) See mini bio Level 15

A few short stories about Mr.Misaki's Magical Maladies

Lain rifled through his satchel one last time. Goggles; check. Spare empty bottles; check. Invoice and receipts;

check. Three cure-alls and a spirit stone for the fire, should rack about $500. You probably think thats cheap

seeing as you can't get this stuff in stores, but the mark up he put on is standard western economy including

delivery. There are of course, more .. exclusive items.

There was a special bottle inside his coat on a custom built holster that bolstered a two chambered plastic and

rubber bottle, with three refills. He also had spare ingredients to make more in the satchel, there is no stressing

how important this stuff can be. Float, his first concerto, was a blend of malleable neutrinos with honed nutrients

(hyper active sucrose) then a healthy underkick of adrenalin to get it into his bloodstream. The tiny sonic emitors

already drifting around inside then react to the stimulant automatically causing such a drastic, but minuscule, force on

the body's cells ones weight appears diminished to the point you weigh as much as helium on a subatomic level. The

other was Caelum de Sanctum, his overture, not yet perfect but still effective to half a meter distance was a much

subtler blend of photosynthetic pigmented layers that flush to the skin (by a crafty body temp control suit) to

create at first layers of colour to blend into the background. Then the tricky part, using the reaction to the sun by the

photosynthoids it was possible to attach mirrors that inversely reflect the sun in huge proportions. Sort of like

shining a huge watch at someone whilst you stand in a blue suit in front of a blue screen. The only other space was

for his wallet and some business cards, more about that later. He squirted roughly 0.5mg of both Sanctum and Float

into his mouth and took a hit of water from a flask.

The parachute he used looked like a weird silver scard attached to two harnesses, so it could be worn under his

jacket which has zips up the shoulders and down the back that can rip back when released. As not to waste time he

turned up the heat in the climate suit and launched the glide wing, pulling back on the handles he shot upwards and

the supports dug into the chute making it taught as he ascended. Evened out. Then slowly started scything downwards,

the kidney shaped material was able to achieve a similar affect to the Sanctum to camouflage him but nowhere near as effective, most

people just figured he was a rich nut or something, out skydiving for teambuilding maybe.

See the thing here is, I should point out, parking in the city is expensive and Lain isn't a bad or unreasonable

guy. At all. But his scooter was hidden on a corner of central park to avoid fines and it wouldn't be going anywhere with the clamp on

and no fuel anyway. He landed. Fuel and water went together, for some reason, in a slung over converted water pouch. With two

compartments, much like his potion bottle. The hover scooter glugged two litres of BioGen (the term he had affectionately given the

fuel) and hummed into life, hovering a foot or two from the ground so he could step on. The theory here is that if you weigh very little

and use a very good fuel, a relatively simple machine will get you places very quickly, less friction. This time, 5mg of Float. The

scooter had its own emitter that basically made it look like it was on the ground going really fast sp no Sanctum. Ok it's a

projection of some wheels basically, underneath it, nothing too fancy, just enough to not get arrested.

Drop today was for Sandra Rotetsku, a second genner from China town, apparently. I got the impression it was a stage

name as her daughter had been dubbed Madeira Wisteria and was an aspiring singer/songwriter (waitress) at a singing

karaoke diner downtown. Sadly she would be at work. Ah, but such is life.

He hummed down North Boulvd. casually avoiding traffic and dotting up onto the pavement occasionally, it wasn't far

to High Rise Heights, a nice plaza on 82nd that sounded better than it was. Putz probably put a disclaimer on the

name from India before he even came to the city himself. Nonetheless, left down Washington and three blocks down

flying past black iron railings and rusty fire escapes, every part the picture we make it but it does give leave to

think about what makes places so iconic and so easy going. Life is hard here; in reality. Most people don't make it

and those of them that do give hope to others by making light of the rest of rhe bad stuff.

Maybe it'd be better for more people to get their hands dirtier on the street instead of the stock market.


He could see Sandra a mile away, out on the carpet under the promenade with a cup of tea, happily gawping at the kid valet on duty. Naturally most people would think Lain was out to do something illegal the way he dressed and acted but truth is he got to be so well known by people around that nobody ever really asked the questions he didn't want to answer. Baller handshakes a go.

"Love your ride man .. always .. you repainted again?", Valets name was Oscar as per gold nametag with maroon trim, a half nod suffices.

"So I have your things, three cure alls in disposable and a new spirit stone, I didn't scent it ..", handing her the bag, she checks the glow on the stone to see it hadn't been charred or cracked already, it was being sold as brand new. You make it in the god damned fire any- anyway and she took a dabble of thin pink liquid, He couldn't not smile as colour flooded her face, her eyes turned to Oscar.

"Five hundred, do you want anything on order now for next month?"

She righted herself and fixed on Lain, "Actually yes", she said handing him the money, "I wanted to ask if you had an elixir for my cat, she's terribly old and getting rather frail but I can't stand the idea of a new animus at home .. is there any way?".

Yawn. Hard work and uncertainty, I'd need a diagnostic on the cat, time, to actually care.

"Yes, I can do one with no guarantees for $150 as long as it's with the usual repeat."

"No guarantees. Fine, thankyou Laney, I'll see you"

"On the 11th, at 10am. Easy".

A hug, we're not cold people round here. He has to wipe a little of Oscars imaginary drool of the scooter as he pulls Iscars drooping jaw off it, in seconds he's waving back trying not to overcook the bike as weight seeps back in. The climate suit works using magnets so it was easy to put reverse polarity receivers, or grabbers, on the seat of the bike for when the body is destabilised. Anyway, slow was good as the three blocks back up to North drifted by, theres a dope pretzel stand on the corner for breakfast too. Everything is fresh OJ and salt beef for ten minutes, listening to Joy Jones with my hat pulled down too, good days are good. Good mornings are better. Kipped up and ready to get home, no point in wasting good juice, the journey meanders itself back to Reisman Square.

Scoot happily put to bed for a nap, Lain looked towards the building he lived and worked from, The Alpman Building, 46 stories of offices, filled with litigators, stock brokers and internet marketing advisors. The trick here was simple, take a little Sanctum, wait for the sun to pop its early morning eyes out over the skyline and go on through, quickly and straight past security to the lifts, which go to the top floor. Only a few people up and down for coffee as market opens up for its jog. Then to the door up, which ironically is still totally theirs, all that needed to be done was to copy one key. Not that hard if you can be virtually invisible. There was more security, of Delaney's own design which obviously wouldn't trigger so with relative ease he pushed the steel door to the roof, gasping in air and sunlight as Sanctums evil double edge grabbed his heart and lungs for a second, a quick slug of water managed to pass the clotting though.

All thoughts of cures and desperate ploys were sent asunder by Shyro landing right in front of him kicking up a big old puff of fresh grass seeds and dry soil, lovely. Home was home and there wasn't much to do before the next delivery.

Post by Saitire_Lefleur (182 posts) See mini bio Level 8
@DCypher: Very good bio.:)
Post by Lobos_Del_Rayo (2,914 posts) See mini bio Level 12

@DCypher: Very nice interesting character

Post by DCypher (117 posts) See mini bio Level 15

OOC: Thankyou for the compliments! xD

He checked the stopclock, 480 seconds to spare.

Sitting back Lain laced his hands behind his head and surveyed the board ahead of him, his opponents front line scattered and disconnected, scouts mired in forays, artillery and assassin in plain view and clearly accounted for. In Chess though when the sense of disquiet plays over you one has to take leave to understand the why.

It wasn't just nonchalant cigar smirk and a wry smile, the patent holding place of a poker players tells, there was a quiet confidence that might just tell tale of a trap. Or maybe it was just experience that kept Mr.Huylen on a lofty perch just above where all could see.

No point in dalliance, the presence of youth, all that rattling around made Lain push on so he pushed on with his knights rook down the left flank and clocked off.

Mr.Huylen was adorned as always in New Yorks finest hobo attire, leather flatcap, worn jacket, stubble but as he surveyed the board he looked every part the genius all street poets claim to be. Stabbing back with one of only two safe Queens positions. This lead me to tighten the noose cutting down an angle with my right side bishop. His left side regrouped halfway up the board to prevent me marauding, I countered with my king.

"Four hundred eighty seconds eh?", he said and as Lain looked he up he was shocked to see cold grey eyes locked onto his.

"We used to call that three minutes, Sonny", and his rook charged through down the middle after a long forgotten castling maneouver.

Lain didn't look away, "Well in my game, Old Timer, we have to live for the moment", I started to move in for the kill. No more than ten moves, it was a particularly subtle kill, pawn suffocation would eradicate his last hope after his queen fell to a roving forgotten Knight.

Mr. Huylens looked at the clock and smiled as his time went live, exactly four minutes, weird. Off came the hat.

"So you say nice to meet you, sit at the table, Buck, get your game face on. Thinking about your girl maybe, if you fucking had one Lainey, probably rummaging through old files in your mind looking for a better balance. Knowing you. You're lost by the time you turn the timer to me for my first turn, run past the post looking for the beaver and winding up firing blanks at bears. You're gonna wind up wondering when I'll let you look down, and by the time you do, you'll be convinced I have to be lying. You know that I know ringing any bells Junior? No?"

His time wracked features etched deeper into his skin. Lain checked his phone noncholantly before returning his full attention to Mr.Huylen.

"All that technology can't save you-"

"Didn't say it could", interjecting and taking a quick refresher from his flask, then offering some to his opponent who gladly accepted.

"Can't save your graces, not now, your gonna have to just accept-"

The clock had wound down a minute.

"- that you've lost".

And with that he moved his Queen straight into checkmate at Kings north west corner. Delaney was quick to let his Lord and Master fall to the ground with his dignity shattered, but pride in tact, then pulled out a tied bundle from his satchel.

"So that makes it two, and you owe me a cigar, right?"

Mr. Jake Huylens pulled out two tinctures for digestion and respiration, no tonics, active mind but he did take a nice six pack of what DeeCee was selling as New York Yearning; a liter beer. He didn't like the heal all, for some reason, likened it to Aspirin, which was basically Xanax which was all bad to a jew like him. For some reason. They had been playing for 35% of the price, which was already discounted. This was not a journey for business.

The advantage of Delaney Morouni's rarified profession was, it gave him leave to live his life pretty much however he wished. Pretty much everybody wanted something, he could make anything. If he tried hard enough. Mr.Huylens was happy enough with his purchase, he left the two fifty sitting in the middle of the board as he took his coat.

"Guess I didn't take the respect yet, still, huh Mister Huylens?", he mused then leaning back in his chair again.

There wasn't a vocalised answer, he just lit his cigar, then walked off into the smoke.

Post by DCypher (117 posts) See mini bio Level 15

OOC: I'm really sorry I've been so absent; its not a habit and I intend to replace this short OOC with the rest of the six part intro very soon.

^_^ lovelove

Post by UsachanMaN (4,663 posts) See mini bio Level 16

@DCypher: Cool! Looking forward to your future entries!

Post by Guyver (3,437 posts) See mini bio Level 14


Post by DCypher (117 posts) See mini bio Level 15

Lain laid back in his Lounger, watching the clouds grow closer then disperse, dark greys and watery sunlight.

"Shyro .."

His little dragons skree was high, loud and long, guffawing a puff of smoke as he floated down next to the big guy in his duffle coat.


".. Shyro."

He surveyed his surroundings, calmly, after taking off his baseball cap. Large planters of herbs and exotic flowers sat across the edge of the corner that caught the sunrise's light, then large shrubs at about 4'5 high sprouting out from the back edge. They thrived on the last dying rays and cold damp evenings, rhodedandrums. Up the two banks was high tressling made deep with ivy and other various thickeners, one side with a slanting glass roof to generate more humidity in the Summer, right now to protect the struggling runner beans and sweet peas. Things like tomatoes and raspberries grew in and around the greenhouse in the centre.

Underneath the Greenhouse was his winter home (weather permitting the deck chair was home) a small room lined with planters from floor to ceiling, he was dreaming now, not surveying. Nonetheless. A hammock crossed inside them, two hammocks actually, sewn into one, just in case. It was pretty cosy. Anyway, this was where the more exotic plants grew, things from Peru, Brazil, Mongolia, New Zealand. Most of the recipes he used were actually Chinese in origin, digressing, but everything there was and is grown hydroponically. Ironically not the weed, the only thing he didn't get involved with, why give the police an excuse?

Shyro was already helping to set a fire in the large oil drum fire pit he had, as much as was possible Lain refused to go inside. Not for any real reason, it just didn't feel right and it had been a tough decision to even move to the city in the first place, but if this whole 'potions' thing was ever going to amount to anything he had to be somewhere where it was a realistic goal. So NY, New York.

Shyro was amazing too, a find, in Tazmania. Hard to explain finding Dragons, perhaps, but then he could pretty much fly too. So it's perhaps a little less strange. In saying a find, meaning to say, he found a way to change people into dragons. Fantastic ability, totally irreversible. So poor Shin-kun was stuck like that forever, he had almost forgot .. flames licked his feet.


He clicked on the earpiece for Shy's larynx decorder. Oops.

~Ooh, you think you're having bacon for breakfast tomorrow, you just THINK that~


"That's real nice Shy-Shy, maybe I'll accidentally forget to feed you."

~Being a dragon now, Lain, its not exactly tough to find pigeons for myself~

"Good point, if I give you a de-scale in the morning will you still light the fire?"


The clouds tightened and cracked together, Lain smiled, Shy recoiled behind the chair, instinctively. A dragon maybe, a very small dragon however. There was no rain, yet, Lain was expecting, hence the being home. Seasons were changing and it was switch over time, bulbs into the sun for Spring, Winter strugglers back to the Greenhouse to germinate for summer, hedges trimmed back, tomatoes .. it was a whole piaza of growing goodness that required expert attention. Before it even got into the mixing and cooking.

"Can you fly up to ten thousand and check the weather?"


"Awesome, thanks, your SO helpful", he said throwing a piece out of his steak sandwich off the edge down towards the hustle, Shyro smirked before leaping off. So Lain himself decided to take it on, climbing up the tressle on the left handside to the pod treehouse at the top, which was also his (affectionately dubbed) Weather House. Not a lot more than a laptop and some home made gadgets, it was enough to make sure the whole world didnt end on the account of a snap frost or heatwave. Lain quickly checked through the instruments, his eyes widened, he leaned outside.

To his surprise Shyro was flying up, up to him with steak in his mouth, past him, towards the sky before he let off a tiny pip of flame then stalled and spiralled back down landing on the roof of the Weather house, there was a shrill laughter in Lain's ear.

"... snow?"


"Jesus, this is severely not the time", already skimming down the vines sipping a drop of float to make sure he could save as much as he could, this was not going to happen. Not again.

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