──── ( ☆ ) 𝐼𝑀𝑀𝐴 𝑃𝑈𝑁𝐾𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅 !

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𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 𝑻𝑰𝑷 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻 ! ! !
my form storage. no postin, please. feel free to use w credit.
𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑷𝑰𝑻
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███████████( 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈❜𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈❜𝐌 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 )███████████
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name xxxxxxxxxxx,xxxx harlow smith
goes by xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx,xx fox
age xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx,xxx twenty-five
gender xxxxxxxxx,xxxxxxxxxxxx male
sexuality xxxxxxx.xxx,xxxx pansexual
height xxxxxxxxxxxx, five foot eleven
hair xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxlx dark curls
eyes xxxxxx an unsettling light amber
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█████(𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠)█████

█████( 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑔𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 )█████
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████████( 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐱 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰❟ 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 )████████

███████(𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝❟ 𝐢𝐭❜𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠)███████

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name xxxxxxxxxxxx orion // oh-ryan
xxxx though he goes by anything but
age xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx he's lost count
species xxxxxxxxxxxxxx.xx minor god
gender xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx male
sexuality xxxxxxx.xxxxxxx pansexual
height xxxxxxxxxxxxxx six foot three
hair xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxlx dark curls
eyes xxxxxxxxxxxxx. deep brown and
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx flecked with gold
role xxxxxxxxx the angered immortal
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in centuries spent wandering the worl
d,, the man has heard many different
names roll off other's tongues.the ram
king. the beast. the manhunter. other
gods such as himself would be eager t
o share their title - to become a hero,
something worshipped and divine. if t
he world had ever chosen to be kind ,
the ram might've felt the same. when
met with the calloused wickedness of
mankind, he took it upon himself to r
id the earth of the vermin that tore a
t it's heart. mankind thieved the hear
t of the land, just as the ram's heart
had been ripped out by the hand of a
nother.
┌──────────────────────┐
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐍❜ 𝐒X 𝐌𝐘 X𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓
🟉 ────𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆❟
𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 ,𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓
└───────────────────────┘

the ram sports a rack of curling horns,
a gift from his father with satyr in his
blood. scars riddle his body from what
to humans would be deadly blows - m
most notably one etched over the brid
ge of his nose, another slicing from his
right brow down to the bottom of his j
aw. he carries a number of weapons, a
mong them a dark bladed sword, a tri
ple edged axe, and knives hidden away
on just about every inch of his person.
he wears dark clothing, oftentimes do
nning a cloak to hide his horns when tr
avelling or not looking for trouble. enj
oys music and will occasionally indulge.

█████████████████████( 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 ❟ 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 )█████████████████████

█████████████████████( 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ❟ 𝐝𝐨𝐧❜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭❟ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 . )█████████████████████

orion is somewhat of an anarchist. with a distaste towards men and their battle for authority, for many years he took i
t upon himself to fight in petty battles and watch their bloody end. the point wasn't to assist a losing side or a fight for
freedom - the god hosted within the ram lusted for the thrill of bloodshed, and after endless time spent operating an e
mpty shell, orion complied. in times of peace he picked off military leaders and corrupt kings, royal families that gaine
d too much power and brought orion amusement to fell. nowadays the god acts on his own accord, whittled down to a
being that kills for sport and slaughters those he deems unfit to live. // the ram is intelligent, a bit too much for his e
ndless ego. a haughty and prideful façade hides the lonely pit at his center. he is quick on his feet and holds a sharp to
ngue. hands on problems are his forte, though knowledge of emotion or human connection has long since left his mind.
// social situations are brutal and he squirms under political pressure. leading an army into battle is second nature, a
ddressing a community is a nightmare. the ram has made a point not to make himself known, a mere shadow of a thou
ght, a murmured legend in a darkened tavern. // calm and collected in seemingly dire situations. immortality has allo
wed him to dance with death. it's a game for him, the only one he knows how to play. // the ram dislikes lying, despit
e it's lack of repercussions. he prefers to tell half truths to his benefit. he has mastered the art of being manipulative
and coercive, either charming or brutal to get what he wants out of a situation. // a disturbing lack of empathy for t
hose who've fell at his hands, or those who will eventually. he wasn't always this way, but divinity seems to have num
bed him to the thought of ending one's life. some deaths bring satisfactions, others nothing at all. // through everythi
ng, the ram still offers kindness to those who force it into his hands. a farmer's wife who offers him a meal, a child wi
th a broken wooden sword. certain people pull at the strings of what was once human, so he begrudgingly gives peace.
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orion was thrown to the wolves when his horns had barely peeked from his mop of hair. he was shoved into his village'
s frequent skirmishes with surrounding towns and forest creatures, forced to learn how to hold a sword before he had
a chance to experience childhood. robyn stood by his side and steadied the boy when he fell - a ray of light in a plac
e void of it, a boy who deserved the world but was handed a shield and a duty to protect his people. the two learned
side by side what it meant to survive. as years passed on, hands clasped in celebration turned into fingers laced in th
e shadows of firelight, and orion knew for the first time what love was. it was taken from him too soon on the night t
he armored men set the village ablaze - the lamb found his body beneath the rubble of a fallen building and held him
until he grew cold in his arms. // the god either took pity or wished to punish him the night he gave orion his divinity.