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Quote from Flare Flames

Name: Boneitar Personis
Mob: Skeleton
Bio:

We should venture on the study of every kind of animal without distaste; for each and all will reveal to us something natural and something beautiful. -Aristotle

There was no light. That is, real light. Only bloodlust, slaughter. Even in law it stated "The only good must come from countless pain, fear, and agony." It stated that quite clearly in the Skeltonic Book. This was embraced by the Church of Clacks Skelly. In this world, a skeleton could get confused. In the case that was, why would the race of Humans always prosper? They always defeated the skeletons if in a war. They never seemed to die, even if shot in the head and you witnessed them disappear, they came back. These thoughts plagued Boneitar, more commonly referred to as Bone, every second. He had no way of knowing, as Church officials always just turned it into a seemingly stupid question with a simple answer, such as "The skeletons undergo more, so they will profit more." Currently, though, there was no profit. In fact, they had started going deeper into caves. When the sun came out, they literally burned, which had only started happening after the Humans came. It seemed to only get worse and worse. They now had less venture into the night. There was constant pushing into the cramped dungeons, which were only raided by Humans. Bone had eventually had enough. He set off to ask the Humans for peace. Upon arriving there, he was instantly attacked, and almost died. A creeper had saved his life by killing the human. But in this, not only did the creeper and human die, Bone lost one of his only belongings. His sanity. He had taken the enchanted bow the humans had and slaughtered his family. He held on this bow, and named it Judgement. It was infinitely able to shoot flaming arrows. He had taken the shears, and took the wool of a sheep to make himself a robe. He became an outcast, and ended up living in the nether, and after killing a wither skeleton, stole his ashes and stole the head which he used as a hat to protect him from the sun. The ashes made his robe a black steel color, making him appear to be a nether skeleton. The nether skeleton's bow was put in his nether house as a backup, the house being a trapdoor under the lava which worked well in keeping everyone else, including the humans out. Whenever he killed he hung the head near the door. Currently in his display, he has the countenances of his family, some Humans, a few skeletons, and right over his house he had the eye of a Ghast. That was his trophy of his success. Now his life was perfect. It was what he wanted. But under this, he had that remaining sanity, the part that tried to strike peace with Humans. Buried, and all the while, getting more and more covered.