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Young Writers Society


Avon S. Harks





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Creator: APoltergeist
Roleplay: The Grand Arena
Nickname: Shark

Name: Avon S. Harks "Shark"
Age: 22 yrs.
Pronouns: he/they

Appearance: Avon has long, ebony black hair constantly tied back into a braid, streaked through with various shades of purple and blues. His facial features are very blurry and indistinct because of a piece of technology he wears to keep it like that, but he appears to have rich toffee colored skin. He's tall, around 6'5, and built like a runner with a wiry frame. Don't be fooled, he's much stronger than he looks.
Personality: Loud and abrasive, they'd talk the ear off anyone willing to listen. They're not serious and their emotions seem too bright, too bold sometimes to be human. They have an uneasy aura to them, something unsettling and distinctly not human. When fighting, they delve into hurtful taunts meant to belittle and throw off their opponent. Shark is constantly watching, and despite their goofy exterior, they can be quite cruel.
Brief History:
Avon was the product of a spell gone wrong, born from void and shadow. He was an outcast in most societies he tried to enter before he eventually settled down to live in an old forest by an abandoned temple. He's known as the "Witch of the Northwood" and sold potions and an occasional spell for steep prices and sometimes, if he was really bored, for a desperate person's soul. Shark has a small collection of these at his home. He lived with his familiar, an bushy, auburn-furred fox that he very originally named Red.
Fighting Style: Mid-range to short distance. A lot of hiding and sneaking around, launching himself over and around his enemies to hit them from behind and get into harder to access high places.
Weapon:
i. Potions of various types in delicate sugar (so he can eat them instead of having to go through the process of uncorking and drinking) and glass vials that shatter upon impact.
ii. A hand-build crossbow that he uses to launch himself in the air and knock enemies back by shooting it at their feet. This uses a special type of explosive. It also releases a large amount of crackling light and smoke in many shades of purple. It doesn't really hurt and feels like getting hit with a bunch of cotton balls. Its aim becomes very unpredictable at long-range.
iii. His fists and sharp, shark-like metallic teeth he embedded into his knuckles.
Abilities:
i. Making potions with little resources and time by infusing it with his essence. These are weaker than his pre-made ones, but still pack a punch.
ii. He has something he simply calls "glitch", where he moves uncontrollably anywhere between 4-inches and 4-feet in any direction. When this happens, it appears as if Avon is glitching, making him very hard to fit from long distances.
iii. He's hard to focus on due to the constant glitch running through his body, as if you were looking at him through a strong heatwave.
Strengths: Due to their glitchy nature, they are very hard successfully at a long distance. The closer you are, the more chance you have hitting them. They've got great movement, their weapons make them very mobile and hard to predict.
Weaknesses: Being put in a position where he has to constantly defend himself makes it hard to use his crossbow to get away or make new potions. Getting doused in water temporarily neutralizes his glitch ability, at least until his higher-than-human body temperature can get rid of it.
An environment you struggle in: Anything with water, or very flat areas with nowhere to climb, duck, or take cover behind. Very dense environments like a jungle with tall, thick trees or a closely packed city are harder for him to maneuver in.
An environment you excel in: Anything mountainous with plenty of hiding places, NO WATER, and hard to reach high spots that he can jump onto. Places with lots of diverse plant life that he can use in potions. Suburban areas also work, as long as the homes aren't too close to each other.

Other: Red doesn't like traveling, and therefore did not enter the competition with Avon.


If a million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.
— Anatole France