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  #1    
Old July 13th, 2007, 10:09 PM
parallelzero's Avatar
parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm

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Well, I went to Europe for a week and a half. Hopefully I was inspired enough to make an RP that has a decent original plot. XD

Y.Z.

History is a funny thing. Months, years, as time passes, history changes. Over time, the past becomes farther and farther away, and as the lives of those who have lived during the past finally all burn out, history can be altered. Facts replaced with fiction, truth becoming lies, until the very core of history rots and becomes something new entirely, an empty shell of what it used to be.

Earth - History in Review
Humanity has suffered a great number of trials over the course of the past 200 years. In 2048, the planet itself turned on the life that inhabited it. The weather grew harsh, the ground shook and shifted, the sky plunging into an eternal darkness never once seen before. When the darkness cleared, the Earth was left a wasteland, the sky dyed a light purple, and only a few million humans remained. From this point on, the use of A.D. was discarded to mark the term of years. In it's place, Y.Z. was used, simply to symbolize the end, because Y and Z are at the end of the alphabet. As time passed, even those remaining began to die, and the remaining people began to search for an alternate method of survival. With little technology remaining, this proved to be quite difficult. However, around the year 10Y.Z., humans took to the skies.

200Y.Z.
The truth behind the events that took place during the year 10Y.Z. was eventually long lost, and the various beliefs behind what truly happened had torn the world's population into different countries that were constantly fighting with each other. Only two solid facts supported all of the beliefs. The first of these facts is that the majority of humanity had been given wings. They varied in shape, size, and colour from person to person, and it was rare for more than one pair to look exactly the same. For example, one person could have white, feathered wings, while another could have black wings similar to those of a bat. The second fact that remained constant was that somehow, someway, flourishing land floated high above the wasteland below. How this actually works, and where the land came from, however, is unknown.

One of the theories followed is the one believed by the citizens of the western skies, known as the Kingdom of Tealia, ruled by Queen Jade and her son, Prince Ryan. They believe that through science, humans were given wings. They also believe that people used their last remaining knowledge of technology to raise the land, thus explaining the random holes and lakes just beneath the raised land. The capital of Tealia is called Meredy, and it lies on the floating island in the dead center of the western skies. The west is composed of many large floating island with lush forests and large cities. Most food is produced in Tealia, and shipped to other nations. As you can imagine, this becomes problematic when Tealia goes to war with other nations, because they place all focus on the war, and no focus on sending food out to the world.

In the Kingdom of Carn, situated in the eastern skies, the land is ruled by King Dian and his daughter, Princess Juliet (who was actually named after the character in her father's favourite story, Romeo and Juliet). The people in Carn have a more religious view on the past, believing that their god, Tylonstus, gave the good people of the world wings and created flourishing, floating land for them to live on. The land in Carn is similar to that of Tealia, but it is famous for it's abundance of churches and cathedrals. Notre-Dame was lifted into Carn from the remains of Paris, France. The people here care so much for their beliefs, that when a child is born, it has the tattoo of a black rose, the king's favorite flower, placed on the back of it's left hand. The tattoo is enchanted by a form of magic known as Dation, and the effect provided insures the beliefs of anyone wearing the tattoo by sending excruciating pain to anyone brave enough to consider other ideals.

Dation is actual the Dark element of a form of magic known as Mahstion. Mahstion consists of six elements: Lionus (Light), Wation (Water), Fionus (Fire), Wionus (Wind), Dation (Dark), and Eation (Earth). Since most forms of technology have disappeared, Mahstion is an efficient way of getting things done, since everyone has the ability to control one type. Carnians refer to it as Tylonstus' gift, while Tealians refer to it as an unexplained phenomenon. Mahstion can typically be used in a variety of ways, including for attacking, healing, and much more practical uses such as helping to create weapons, or care for plants. All in all, it is a very useful, but relatively mysterious power. Some believe the floating islands are held up by Mahstion.

The third faction lives on the barren world. Wingless humans inhabit this world, using machines to travel to the islands above them. This land is referred to simply as the Underneath, and the people there loathe those with wings. It has no ruler, and they have no specific beliefs. It is essentially the slums of the world. There is no peace, no order, just poverty and destruction. The people of the Underneath are organized into gangs, each with their own individual beliefs. The most prominent group calls themselves the Raven Claw, a group of Sky Pirates that fly their ship across the world and steal from the winged citizens to give to the residents of the Underneath. Even the wingless have control over Mahstion, so confusion has arisen as to the origin of the magic.

Aside from these three dominant nations, there is also Alta, Beta, and Gregar. Alta is a neutral nation situation right in between the primary border of Carn and Tealia. It is a small country on an island similar to the Switzerland of our time in size and shape. It is very mountainous, and very green. Alta is ruled by Prince Regul, since his parents were apparently killed by Underneathers. Beta is the nation of machines. It is where all things related to scholars are conducted. Usually, Beta sells its information to other countries. It is located on a floating island in the snowy north. It is a very barren, snow covered island with metallic buildings, and is only inhabited by a few thousand people. Gregar is a small, floating nation that is constantly changing location. Because of this, the climate is constantly different. Gregar is famous for it's historical readings, and often partners with Beta for various projects.

Recently, more and more rumors of further hostilities between Tealia and Carn have been popping up. Apparently, small islands have begun to drop in both countries with little reasoning whatsoever behind it. Both countries believe it to be the work of the other, and this of course has begun to cause problems. Unfortunately, Alta is drawn into the mess as well when the capital, Meera, is attacked by Carn forces so that they could use as a base. Alta's population consists of those from all countries trying to get away from the war, and thus many rebels were killed in the process. It was at around this time that the purple sky flashed yellow. It was bizarre, and left everyone confused. However, for selected individuals, this brought new responsibilities. Few people worldwide found themselves with strange marking on the center of their forehead in the shape of a dot in the colour of whatever Mahstion they controlled. Little did they know at that time, that they would find themselves in a whirlwind adventure exploring the very truth of the world and it's past...

Form

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Nationality: (Tealia, Carn, Underneath, Alta, Beta, Gregar)
Class: (Citizen, solider, etc)
Mahstion Type:
Weapon Class: (Sword, Lance, Staff, etc. No guns, since that technology was lost)
Appearance: (Don't forget to explain the wings in detail)
Personality:
History:
RP Sample:(I'll only ask for it if I need it)
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  #2    
Old July 14th, 2007, 10:39 AM
Loki's Avatar
Loki
its easy being with you
Community Supporter
 
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Nature: Calm
Send a message via Skype™ to Loki
YAY, reserve me a spot please? My keyboard and computer aren't working so well, so I'm going to be transitioning everything of mine to my laptop, so I can't write out my sign-up today, but I will definetely get it done! >3

Thankies~
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  #3    
Old July 14th, 2007, 11:47 AM
Extric's Avatar
Extric
Trainer
 
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: North Carolina
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed
This sounds awesome, so I'm going to ask if I can reserve a spot. My profile should be up tomorrow since I have to go to a birthday party this evening.
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  #4    
Old July 14th, 2007, 03:52 PM
Taichi's Avatar
Taichi
The Keyblader of The Future
 
Join Date: Aug 2006
Gender:
Nature: Calm
Woah! Definetly Not a cliche Rp. reserve please?
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  #5    
Old July 14th, 2007, 08:14 PM
Loki's Avatar
Loki
its easy being with you
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Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Nature: Calm
Send a message via Skype™ to Loki
Name: Aertan Svartel
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Nationality: Carn
Class: Priest
Mahstion Type: Fionus
Weapon Class: Aertan's sword is, if stretched out, 10 feet in length. It curves like a crescent, and is grasped in the very middle of the arch. In the middle of the black handle is a long red braided leather rope, which can be grasped and spun about in the air, and let go to spin like a boomerang.

Appearance: Aertan is a strange being to behold. His snow white hair is brushed back, away from his face while he leaves a very large clump to hang between his eyes and slowly bend to the right, the hair covering his face being a maroon red. A pair of cat-like, bright red eyes seem to never blink, and his waxy complexion leaves him a rather frightening person. However, frightening or not, he is usually wearing the same thing, and the outfit consists of a pair of black pants that fit just right, a white long sleeved dress shirt, and a black pinstriped vest. His shoes are a pair of heavy boots, with black rubber soles that are textured horizontally. On his right index finger is two large silver rings, and a skull ring on his left middle finger. He has multiple piercings on both his ears, on his left three halved hoops on his lobe, and two silver hoops on his right cartilidge. But it is his wings which are strangest of all, his large bat-like wings sporting dark blemishes on the black waxy wings. On the highest point of the frame of his wings, sits a knobbly end which has five bumps all lined up with each other. The direction they're lined up is always changing, and the reason for this is because of what the bumps really are. They are in fact, knuckles, that are the only constantly visible part of the arms that hide within the outermost bone of Aertan's wings. The arms are a very very dark red in color, with razor sharp nails, a bony and waxy build like the wings they sprout from, and have very angular joints, at places like the elbow, and fingers. The fingers themselves are twice as long as any normal person's fingers, and each arm has a mind of it's own. They cannot speak but when they show up outside of battle, they tend to cause mischief and trouble. Each of these gruesome hands have the black rose tattoo, and will make strange shrieking sounds when they burn. This is the only time in which the goblin-like arms make noise. Aertan however, also posesses the black rose tattoo, like any normal Carn-born person, and in addition, he now has a red dot in the middle of his forehead, which never ceases to annoy the sanity out of him. Both goblin hands have a black chain necklace which wraps around the palm and has a red orb that sits in the middle of the bony palms.

Personality: A reserved person, Aertan seems like a complicated enigma, his quiet ways and vocabulary consisting of "Ah" and "Hm" giving him the look as if he's constantly thinking about something. In reality, he's probably not thinking about anything, as he has a tendency to wipe his mind of most thought. This is because Aertan's extra set of hands in his wings are extremely rowdy, and very much dislike being stuck in the frame when not in battle. Thus, Aertan has to constantly think about keeping them where they are, so they don't emerge and try to pick a fight. This causes him to be extremely tired, as holding back two goblin-hands that suffer from a bad case of ADHD is a sufferable job. As a result of his constant exhaustion, Aertan usually harbors a blank look on his face, as if he doesn't understand anything that's being said. However, one emotion that he always shows no matter how tired he is, is annoyance. Usually the annoyance is directed towards his wings, but Aertan is very easily annoyed, be it a scratching sound, too much talking, too much light, not enough light, the smallest things get on his nerves. In the rare moments when he's just awoken, he is extremely pleasant, all smiles, and kinder then all. This is a slightly eerie state, as admitted by his closer friends, due to the fact that he becomes very cheerful and eager to help when he's not tired. Thus, Aertan's personality really depends on whether he is tired, or whether he is not.

History: The Svartel Family was known for being a family that was not respectable, a family that had no known respectable origins or merits to their name. This family died from the pain that resulted from their doubt in their religion, fifteen years before Aertan was even born. He was born in the dead of night in a church, his mother malnourished and dead by the time the infant was born. Before her death however, she told the priestess that the child’s name was Svartel. Aertan Svartel. Svartel was the first word Aertan ever heard, and the last word his mother ever uttered. The priests in the church which Aertan now took up residence could find no reason as to why the woman would want to give her son the name of a disrespected family, but, respecting the wishes of the dead, they gave him his name. Growing up, the people around Aertan made sure that he never had any chance to doubt his religion, to mark him as different from the true Svartel family. They told Aertan that his wings, Haeon’t, the left hand, and Geon’t, the right, as the priests had named them, were curses. They told him that in a past life, he had probably committed two sins, that came back to him as two gruesome arms that burrowed in his wings. Throughout his entire life, Aertan has believed every last word told to him, never doubting anything, as nothing has ever been shown to him that may point otherwise. Though Aertan has never doubted his religion, he has never avidly believed in it. It is Aertan’s standing in that he feels that it is not a subject that too much thought will sort out, thus he has never said anything during prayers, keeping his mind the usual blank.
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Last edited by Loki; July 15th, 2007 at 06:50 PM.
  #6    
Old July 15th, 2007, 06:15 AM
Alter Ego's Avatar
Alter Ego
that evil mod from hell
 
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: Touhou land, grazing danmaku all the way
Age: 26
Nature: Quirky
Ooooh...sweetness! =D Is what I figured the first time I saw this. I've been holding this off until I got my sign-up for the school RP done, but now...te-hee. :3

Name: Faewyn Ayre
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Nationality: Beta
Class: Citizen and aspiring scholar
Mahstion Type: Wionus

Weapon Class: Faewyn's weapon, much like its owner, is a rather complicated thing. While seemingly little more than a dark brown, two-meter hardwood staff, both ends conceal small but deadly blades, one curved for slashing, the other a sharp spear tip, both of which can be unfolded to convert the weapon into a naginata or spear as the situation warrants. Furthermore, the staff as a whole can be split into two parts, which - through a bit of interchanging - can be reassembled to serve as a crossbow. The weapon as a whole is a complex mess of detachable and re-attachable parts which only Faewyn seems to be able to make sense of. Unfortunately, converting the weapon correctly takes a bit of time, so she usually only picks one mode and goes with it. For practicality, the weapon also has a detachable leather strap, allowing it to be carried much like a sling bag while it isn't in use.

Appearance: A tall, gangly wisp of a girl, Faewyn's body is slenderly built, with a thinness brushing quite close to anorectic (the more cynical say that this is because her mouth is far too busy with things other than eating) and needless to say, she has very little in the way of feminine curves. Her skin is of a very light pigment and bruises and reddens very easily. Faewyn's face is of an oval shape, bearing quite a striking resemblance to an egg, and is occupied by two wide, beetle black eyes which are further accentuated by her otherwise thin frame. Faewyn's hair is of a peculiar teal color, reaching a bit beneath her shoulders, and is typically combed up in the most peculiar hairstyles (For she experiments with these as well), although when she is preoccupied with other matters she simply ties it up into a long ponytail. The most peculiar part of Faewyn's appearance (unless she has had a creative spurt with the hair) is her dragonfly wings; small and translucent with coloring ranging from teal at the edges to cyan near the point where they connect with her back. Although they are frail and no good for flying through strong gales, they allow for remaining stationary in the air and - when not used - rest closely stuck to her back without occupying much additional space.

In the way of clothes, Faewyn usually goes for an uncharacteristically simple choice: a pair of denim dungarees with a plain white shirt beneath, although they have been modified so that her back is bare until about mid-back where the wings sprout from. Although some would consider this an odd choice for someone living in as cold a place as Beta, Faewyn seems largely unbothered. On her feet she wears a pair of surprisingly ordinary, warm boots - light brown in color and lined with fake fur. As with most things, however, Faewyn is never shy about completely changing her outfit should the urge awaken. Regardless of what she wears, however, she always makes sure to sew her garments full with pockets of various sizes to accommodate the vast inventory of items either practical or fascinating which she always carries with her. To keep track of her ever growing research notes, Faewyn has also fashioned a makeshift belt of sorts - a piece of durable rope which she has thread through the spines of notebook, keeping them all within reach and in order. She must regularly replace this rope, however, not because of wear and tear but because the length tends to run out. The collection is currently large enough to encircle her thin frame twice; and growing fast.

Personality: Talkative, inventive, open, optimistic, and at times painfully naive, Faewyn is generally viewed as an eccentric, even among her own. Her most dominant personality trait is her seemingly inexhaustible curiosity. She greedily assembles knowledge both trivial and useful wherever she finds it and hastily scribbles it down in many of her countless notebooks so as to not forget a single bit. To Faewyn, the world is like a gloriously complicated machine and she wastes no time in trying to pick it apart to see what makes it tick. Her interests range from philosophy and machinery to gardening and she is often found pestering those around her - even complete strangers - with questions ranging from what they had for lunch today to why they think the sky isn't blue and shouldn't it be blue because that's a question that they supposedly used to ask way back then and speaking of way back then did you know that...well, you get the picture. Needless to say, conversations with Faewyn can be exhausting to say the least, but her sunny and optimistic attitude makes it somewhat difficult for most people to openly hate her.

Enthusiastic though she is about her research (which, she proudly proclaims, will eventually encompass everything the world holds), Faewyn is also terribly disorganized. New experiments and research subjects absolve old ones in an endless stream that - most likely - not even Faewyn herself is fully capable of keeping track of, and her surroundings are always littered with half-finished experiments and hastily scribbled notebooks filled with so many cryptic margin notes that they are next to impossible to distinguish from the original text. Despite this, she takes great pride in her writing and is more than willing to shove it under the nose of anyone who makes the mistake of appearing even the least bit interested. (And goodness forbid that you ask her about something) Though Faewyn appears unbothered by the cold reception she usually gets from her peers, often stating that they won't be talking like they're all that once she finishes her book, there seems to be just that tiniest hint of loneliness behind her seemingly endless stream of questions and anecdotes. After all, how much fun is it to study all the mysteries of the whole wide world if there's no-one to share it with?

History: The child of an enthusiastic couple of researchers, since young age Faewyn has been accustomed to taking care of herself as one or both of her parents were often away on an extended field trip for their research, leaving their daughter to amuse herself best she could in the company of a trivially chosen nanny, and - later on - only herself. To relieve her boredom, Faewyn began to write down her musings on anything and everything she saw - the house, the patterns made by snow and frost on the windows, a pretty rock she had happened to pick up...everything she duly cataloged and analyzed in careful mimicry of the way she had witnessed her parents work, proudly displaying the results of her 'research' to her parents on the few occasions that they happened to be at home. Glad to see their own enthusiasm for knowledge reflected in their child, Faewyn's parents always made sure to acknowledge their daughter's findings, often sharing some of their own. Soon, Faewyn realized that it was through research that she could command the attention she had sought, and so she quickly grew more ambitious about her work, ranging farther, outside of the family house and into the frigid streets of her hometown, and as time passed the process itself turned just as enjoyable as the end result...if not even more so. It was then that she decided on her ultimate goal in life: to create a book encompassing anything and everything the world holds, an obsession she still holds on to.

Shortly after Faewyn turned fifteen this idyll was broken, however, when her parents embarked on an expedition to the kingdom of Carn in order to discern more facts about their religion and, specifically, the custom of sacrifice...never to be heard from again. Ever the optimist, Faewyn still lives in the hope that her parents are alive and well and have simply been too caught up in their work to make contact, a hope which she seeks to prove true by re-tracing her parents' steps...right to the heart of the religious kingdom.

RP Sample: So like...do I need it? =O
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Last edited by Alter Ego; July 18th, 2007 at 04:08 AM.
  #7    
Old July 15th, 2007, 09:18 AM
Extric's Avatar
Extric
Trainer
 
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: North Carolina
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed
Name: Bardrin Karson
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Nationality: Gregar
Class: Soldier
Mahstion Type: Dation

Weapon Class: Bardrin's blade is a twelve-foot great sword. Because of the sword's length, Bardrin must wield it with two hands, which slows down Bardrin's striking speed. Even though he has to strike with slow speed, the blade hits pretty hard, hard enough to bend a warrior's armor though it's not the best weapon for piercing. Incase Bardrin can't use his great sword, he straps it to his back and goes to using a faster one-handed blade, a simple Long Sword that rests on his right hip. He doesn't usually carry it unless he knows that he won't need the great sword.

Both blades look almost exactly the same. The blades are both midnight black and a red outline of a pear has been placed just above the hilt of the blades. The great sword's hilt is much larger so that Bardrin can wield it with two hands and is covered in dark brown leather for extra comfort. The Long Sword just has a smaller hilt and is also covered in dark brown leather, though Bardrin only got it made that way for design instead of comfort.

Appearance: Tall and muscular is a simple way of describing the young soldier Bardrin. He didn't intend to be so muscular, but after using a great sword so much, his body built muscle to hold it up so that Bardrin could swing the mighty blade. And from being outside, practicing using the blade, his skin has gotten a nice looking tan color, but along his forearms are a couple of scars from getting cut during practice sessions. You don't see the scars much because he usually covers his forearms in black leather bracers. Bardrin's attire usually includes a white long-sleeved shirt with a thick black leather vest to cover his torso. Loose black pants cover his legs with his Long Sword attached to his waist and to protect the soles of his feet are a pair of black combat boots.

Bardrin's head is large enough to fit his body and egg shaped. His hair is kept short and is naturally spiked. Under a pair of semi-bushy eyebrows are two coffee brown eyes that are separated by a normal sized nose. His head is upon a short neck and on his back, just below his neck are a pair of large eagle shaped wings. The feathers at the top of the large wings are black and as you reach the bottom of the wings they smoothly change into a light brown color. He got the idea of his swords blade part being black and then the hilt being brown came from the coloring of his wings.

Personality: Bardrin is a very quiet person. Growing up in the land of Gregar, his parents always to him to only speak when spoken to and since then he has followed the rule his mother and father told him to follow. Even though Bardrin is very quiet, he makes friends easily. Mainly because he was also thought to be very polite to others and treat them with respect. By following these two rules, Bardrin doesn't have many friends but he keeps those friends close easily. Bardrin is also a very intelligent man. At one point in his life he had thought of traveling to the land named Beta to become a scholar, but changed his mind and became a soldier instead to follow in his father's footsteps. That intelligence hasn't gone to waste though, as he uses a lot of it to plan attack strategies with others.

Bardrin is a tough and hard-working person. Since becoming a soldier, he has tried his hardest to become a powerful and useful soldier by training during any free time that he has. Usually to do this, Bardrin chooses great people that he knows and works hard to match his or her skills and then overcome them. He also does this to try and block or overcome any weaknesses he may have, but that doesn't work out so well as he still has a few weaknesses physically, mentally, and socially.

History: Bardrin was born into a family of nothing but soldiers. His parents, Johan and Lily Karson, wanted to start a tradition by having every new Karson become a soldier once they were old enough and then began to have children. To their surprise, the couple had twins who they later named Bardrin and Alfred Karson. Throughout Bardrin's whole life his parents made him follow certain rules to keep him under their complete control, the same with his brother. At the age of five, Bardrin's father had already started to train him with different weapons and basic battle strategies. When the twins had gotten into their late teens Alfred had decided that he didn't want to follow in his parents footsteps and instead wanted to just be a regular person and move to Tealia.

The whole rebellion of Alfred soon turned into a big feud between him and the parents. After about a year of fighting, Alfred was found dead about 2 miles away from the Karson family house. Nobody knows who killed him as the killer left no signs of his identity, but Bardrin believes that the person who did send Alfred to the great beyond was his parents. Bardrin never voiced his opinion to anyone as he was told only to speak when spoken to. When Bardrin was seventeen he started the same feud with his parents as he wanted to become a scholar, only this time it wasn't Bardrin who had been murdered, but his parents. Sky Pirates had passed by Gregar and just so happened to come across the Karson home. Bardrin had been out training the day of the attack so he knew nothing about the murder of his parents until he came home about a week later. It was then that Bardrin decided to follow in his parent’s footsteps and become a soldier.

RP Sample: Just tell me if you want me to post one and I will.
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Last edited by Extric; July 18th, 2007 at 09:32 AM.
  #8    
Old July 15th, 2007, 01:35 PM
parallelzero's Avatar
parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm
Just realized I forgot to add the History section. Sorry guys. XD;
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  #9    
Old July 15th, 2007, 04:34 PM
Taichi's Avatar
Taichi
The Keyblader of The Future
 
Join Date: Aug 2006
Gender:
Nature: Calm
My sign up. It's not much, but I hope you like it.
Name: Taichi Suzuki
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Nationality: Underneath
Class: Soldier
Mahstion Type: Are Underneath's allowed Mahstion? If so, Lionus

Weapon Class: Taichi's weapon is somewhat of a Damp blood colored staff that is made out of metal. A weaponsmith fortanutely made it for him. It was his gift and his curse. Taichi must have control over his emotions in battle, due to the weaponsmith's warning. "If your emotions boil into anger and rage, the staff will be too heavy to lift.If so you manage to lift it, It will not be your will controlling it." Taichi has been well aware of this warning. It may look like an ordinary staff at first but when getting attacked, the pain is critical, even though it seems it hasnt pierced anything.

Appearance: http://i193.photobucket.com/albums/z...rel/Taichi.jpg
Taichi has hair as golden as the sun, with deep aquatic eyes and scars on both of his cheeks due to fatal grazes in battle. (Yes fatal 'grazes') He seems very comfortable in his red and black hoodie with blue baggy pants that cover about half of his feet. His armor is a blue metallic armor with a small silver chestplate and a matching visor and helmet. His wings, even though he has the element of light, he has been selected with black feathered wings as dark as the nights sky.

Personality: Being an Underneath wasn't easy for Taichi. This pretty much explains his personality. He is looking for a way out. Being known as a lower class being, speaks when it is needed. Calm and collective due to his weapon's rule. Not as much as adventurous, but crazy's more like it. Taichi goes through unbelievable things to reach a goal or to prove to someone that underneaths are somebody. He has formed the tragic hero role and hates deception.

History: When Taichi has come into birth of the Y.Z world, he was immediately shun by Beta's and Alta's. He was part Gregar, part Underneath. For some reason he was chosen for only one dark feathered wing but stables the element of Lionus. Growing up, Taichi's goal was to prove that even though he was an Underneath, he still was a being nonetheless. Determined, he was trained to fight with a weapon at age 15. A weaponsmith gave him a very particular red staff. The weaponsmith gave him a warning that the staff's control and power depend on the emotions of the user. If Taichi were to ever boil in an unmattered and unstabled rage. His staff would eventually be the death of him. Taichi has controlled himself well. The past three years have still been normal....normal for an Underneath that is. Now, lately the sky is flashing lightning and worlds are dropping down from the Alta's Beta's and the Gregar's and into near the land of Underneaths. A few minutes later, a white and black shaped dot appeared on his forehead. What was it doing there? Why is it there? How are lands dropping and skies erupting strangely. Who may be responsible. So many questions, but for an Underneath, questions NEEDED answers.


sample:Do you need?
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  #10    
Old July 15th, 2007, 06:59 PM
parallelzero's Avatar
parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm
Sorry for Rosaline's lacking personality and weird attire. Her outfit will change shortly after the RP starts. When it does, I'll update the appearance section. XD

Just to clear a few things up...
Fashion: There is no definite fashion, people just wear whatever.
Technology: There is some, simpler technology such as fridges and lights, but most resources haven't been focused on weapons and junk, so guns and nukes and such don't exist.

Taichi, can you give me a sample?

And here are my two. Prone to editing, because I just wanted to throw something out there. XD

Name: Rosaline Dian (Goes by Rosa or Rose for short)
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Nationality: Carn
Class: Second daughter of the King; Tylonstus sacrifice
Mahstion Type: Lionus

Weapon Class:
Rosaline does not possess any form of weaponry, since she has been cut off from the world for most of her life. Since she was just going to be used as a sacrifice anyways, she was never taught how to wield a weapon, but instead learned how to play the flute. She found, after she got good, that she could use the flute to tap into her mahstion. Like many, it was hard for her to tap into mahstion by will alone, and thus she started using the flute alongside her mahstion. The flute itself is pure black with a white pattern overtop of it depicting a rose on each side of the instrument.

Appearance:
Neglected from birth and locked away, Rosaline has grown up in a very harsh environment. Reflected as such, she appears that way. At first glance, you could easily tell what her living conditions are like. Rosaline was not raised on the some diet as everyone else, and is very thin and frail because of that. She stands at a height of 5'8". She has blue eyes, and long, straight hair in a colouring that almost seems like a navy blue, with dust and dirt always making the colour seem almost a mix of blue and brown. She has long bangs that are parted to the sides of her head, and she wears a white bandanna over her head with the black rose embedded on it. This signifies that she is the sacrifice of her generation. She is dressed in nothing other than a white tee shirt that is about four sizes too large for her, with a pair of really short shorts. That's fine, however, since the shirt goes down to about her knees anyways. She has a pair of brown sandals. And thats about it for the outfit. One thing that makes her unique from other citizens of Carn, is that she lacks the black rose on her left hand. This is because the sacrifice is to be treated lower than the citizens, and so it doesn't receive the same privileges. Rosa's wings, like all of those born of the royal family, are feathered, and pure white. They span approximately eight feet when she has them fully out.

Personality:
Having little human contact for the past fifteen years, Rosaline is socially awkward. She is unable to hold a conversation for long, and she sees most people as something to be afraid of. The only person she really trusts and is capable of talking to is the nanny that looked after her in her cell when she was younger. Through this nanny, she heard stories of the world. This nanny was also the only person who ever told her she wasn't born for the soul purpose of dying. Quiet, but curious, it could take a bit of time in the real world for her real personality to surface.

History:
From the moment she was born, Rosaline was told she was born to die. You see, a kingdom following the religion of Tylonstus was required to provide one sacrifice for the god once every fifty years. However, they couldn't just be any person. It had to be the King's second born daughter, on her sixteenth birthday at midnight. For the fifteen years prior, to save heartache for people that could get to know the person (which also prevented any attempts of people trying to stop the sacrifice), the sacrifice was to be kept locked up until the day of their death, the only human contact allowed being a nanny until they were the age of ten, and the occasional guard dropping off her food rations for the month, which usually consisted of only bread and water. Rosaline went through this experience exactly, and because of it she knows little of the world, just that her father hates her and that she lives to die. Oftentimes when she grew older, she would lie in her cot and cry for hours at a time, and has the time of her sacrifice drew closer, she contemplated suicide. The truth behind everything is that the sacrifice is a citywide event. Everyone knows who the sacrifice is, and what she looks like, in case she was ever to escape. When she was sacrificed, everyone from all over Carn came to see. It was truly barbaric for such a culture.



Name: Reid Davies
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Nationality: Underneath; Honorary citizen of Tealia
Class: Tealia Special Forces Agent
Mahstion Type: Wionus

Weapon Class:
Reid specializes in the use of a bow. The particular bow he prefers to use is an ordinary longbow. By combining his shots with his mahstion, he is capable of manipulating the paths of the arrows he fires, as well as their speed. He can even manipulate them so that he'll never miss their target. The flaw with this choice in weapon is that if he is cut off from the wind, Reid's mahstion is useless, and his archery skills drop dramatically. Since a bow is basically useless in close quarters, Reid also carries a kris dagger.

Appearance:
Reid stands at the height of 5'5", and has tall, spiky, brown hair. His eyes are green, and a pair of goggles rest on the border of his forehead and his hair. The goggles are thick, with white rims and orange lenses, and they are attached to his head through the means of a black, elastic strap. He wears the official silk scarf of the Tealian Special Forces around his neck: a red scarf with white stars lined across it horizontally, and a tulip at the end. The rest of his outfit isn't really special. He wears an open black jacket overtop of a white shirt, and he wears a pair of beige cargo shorts that go just past his knees, and are really baggy. Reid also has a pair of black skateboard shoes on, white socks underneath. In a scabbard on the right side of his waist, his kris dagger sleeps. Normally strapped to his back is a long red board at about 5'5" in length, and about as wide as his torso. It has footholds in the center, and the belly of the board is smooth and white. The board itself is made out of a durable material known as taniet. Attached to upper side of the board is the longbow he uses in a location that makes it easy to reach.. He had a brown quiver in between the board and her back for easy arrow access when need be.

Personality:
Despite his profession, Reid is still a kid, and still acts like it most of the time. Sure, he can act pretty serious during missions if he has to be, but he is a very curious person who doesn't know when to leave well enough alone. Naive and headstrong, Reid tends to let his emotions get the better of him, which makes for poor performance sometimes. He finds joy in the simplest things, and when it comes to technology he drops everything he is doing to check it out. Reid is also the type of person who just can't stand by when someone is in trouble. Despite all of this, he isn't an idiot. He knows when he's outnumbered, and he's very skilled with wionus. He can even act very mature from time to time if he has to... until someone embarrasses him and he loses it.

History:
Ever since he was little, Reid had an interest in mahstion based technology. Flying machines, refrigerators, even lights, he found it all fascinating. He originally attempted to pursue a career in work in this area, but living in poverty in the Underneath made that extremely difficult. Reid's favorite pastime was sky surfing, a sport he invented himself with the use of wionus. He found he could use wionus to lift a board into the air, and control it's height, direction, and speed. One day, the group of sky pirates know as the Raven Claws found him boarding, and they decided to recruit him. Here he got to tinker with mahstion technology all he wanted, and soon took up work as the ship's mechanic. At the age of thirteen, however, he abandoned ship and took up work for Tealia as a special forces agent. He never revealed to anyone why he decided to do this, but that didn't change the fact that he did. Recently, he was assigned a mission involving Carn's Tylonstus sacrifice...
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  #11    
Old July 15th, 2007, 08:41 PM
Animehero's Avatar
Animehero
Elite PKMN Trainer
 
Join Date: Feb 2007
Location: Neon City
Age: 18
Nature: Hasty
Name: Ivan Rosswood
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Nationality: Beta
Class: Citizen
Mahstion Type: Wation
Weapon Class: Sword
Appearance:
Personality: Ivan enjoys just laying back with his friends. Whenever he's not just laying around he's sparring to become stronger, and stronger. Ivan can be very sensetive
History: Ivan lives alone because his parents were killed by the denizens of the Underneath. Ivan trains to travel down ther some day to avenge his parents.
RP Sample:
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  #12    
Old July 15th, 2007, 11:59 PM
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Alter Ego
that evil mod from hell
 
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: Touhou land, grazing danmaku all the way
Age: 26
Nature: Quirky
Oh sure...you just forgot. xP Well, I've edited mine. Is that better? :3 I'd apologize for Faewyn's attire too, but it was meant to be weird so I won't. Incidentally, has anyone else noticed that the only female characters in the RP are played by guys and the only female RPer is playing a male character? Yay for gender bending. xD
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Scandalous Maido Love Affair and Pair: Phani
Estranged Ex: The RP Section Rules
Sworn Rival For All Eternity and about five minutes beyond: Chibi
Illegitimate Lovechild: Mika
Card-gaming Beta on a Leash: Scarlet


Last edited by Alter Ego; July 16th, 2007 at 01:18 AM.
  #13    
Old July 16th, 2007, 10:55 AM
Shiney's Avatar
Shiney
Sometimes, we come back!
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: Where exploitation is exploration
Age: 25
Nature: Lonely
Gotta do yarwork, so don't forget me. X3 I'll owkr on a signup momentarily.
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  #14    
Old July 16th, 2007, 12:01 PM
Shadowfaith's Avatar
Shadowfaith
Destined for something more...
 
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: United Kingdom, Wales
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Nature: Relaxed
Form 1

Name: Kanga Corbin Hikaru

Nicknames: KC (Casey) or Little Raven

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Nationality: Underneath

Class: Sky Pirate/ Theif

Mahstion Type: Fionus

Weapon Class: Kanga uses twin blades to do her bidding, though she is skilled at many swift weapons such as knives, rapiers and claws, she much prefers the light, but solid feel of two swords in her hands. Her swords are made of fine silver for the blade and a smooth wood for the handle, which ironically is carved into a raven’s upper body, the wings spreading out so that Kanga can get a firm grip on the handle. It has been colored black and carved with remarkable care in order to gain all the detail of a live Raven, but the eye is a very rare blood red ruby, which Kanga takes incredible care of.

Appearance: Kanga has shoulder length black hair which is specked with silver in multiple places, it also spikes out at its own accord to create some wild style that Kanga can call her own. Behind her left ear she wears a pair of black raven’s feathers and another pair is worn as part of a scraggy old necklace which lies beneath her black bandana. Her eyes are the same blood red color as the ruby embedded into her swords handle and are enough to intimidate even the most vicious of opponents. Her skin is stark white, enough for many to think she is apart of the undead and if that isn’t enough, the fairly long canines she bares aren’t exactly comforting in relieving her of such suspicions.

She wears simple attire which consists of a black crop top, which comes to a stop above her pierced belly button and just below her rib cage. A shorter leather jacket covers her skinny, pale arms and is not short of a few rips and tears. A black studded belt keeps her baggy black pants in check, which are then tucked into a pair of clumpy black boots with silver clasps. Her pants play host to a jumble of pockets and multiple chains and other leather belts which hold the sheath’s of her twin blades and a leather pouch for storing key items. She also owns a longer leather trench coat for stormier times.

Accessories include many leather bracelets and piercing, two of which are hoops that run through the top of her left ear. The ruby piercing of her bellybutton and the matching tongue piercing. A gold ring sits on her right index finger given to her by her brother, Corbin. A black Raven tattoo is evident coiling around her pierced bellybutton on the right hand side.

Personality: Out of the two twins, Kanga is the more cunning and sly of the two. She isn’t much of a fighter, but she is swift and immaculate at coming up with ideas and strategies that would not land her group in trouble, but still gain that which they had set out for. She likes the quiet and sneaky approach rather than the brute strength, charge in approach. But when she is angered, she would not think twice but to start a fight, especially when it puts someone she cares for in danger, such as her brother. She is sarcastic and dry humored, never hesitating to take laugh at or taunt an enemy. She is wise beyond her years and has probably experienced more in life than what someone three times her age has.

Though she is a thief and a rather dark character, she would not wish death on the innocent, even if they do bare wings, but she would gladly cause them some sort of misery, be it taking something valuable or taking hostage. Out of the two, she is the most caring and by far the most up beat and lively. She is the one of the two who is the less sick minded, but normally the brains behind the kidnappings and thievery. Her relationship with her brother is a mutual one, they share equal responsibilities, share half the earnings and share the work, but Corbin being the first born of the two twins is the one most in charge and though Kanga is quite the intellectual, Corbin nearly always has to keep her in control as she has a tendency to loose her temper or get a little to hyper and even a little too caring of what her brother plans.

History:

Form 2

Name: Corbin Kanga Hikaru
Nicknames: CK or Big Raven
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Nationality: Underneath
Class: Sky Pirate/ Pilot
Mahstion Type: Dation
Weapon Class: Lance
Appearance: (Don't forget to explain the wings in detail)
Personality:
History:



Will edit, they are twins if you hadn’t guessed.

Last edited by Shadowfaith; July 22nd, 2007 at 02:38 AM.
  #15    
Old July 16th, 2007, 12:31 PM
Loki's Avatar
Loki
its easy being with you
Community Supporter
 
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Nature: Calm
Send a message via Skype™ to Loki
Name: Alicilante [Alicel - Ah-li-cell] Florinen Svartel
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Nationality: Alta
Class: Citizen
Mahstion Type: Wation

Weapon Class: Alicel uses a whip that is a pure white in color, and shares the same iridescent sheen as her wings. The whip is triple her height, so it's not very usually unravelled all the way during use, as it's too long to handle at full length.

Appearance: Alicel has a very plain appearance, her pale blonde hair seemingly white and her delicate frame seemingly too thin for her own good. She keeps her hair down, slightly wavy at the ends but straight otherwise, her bangs framing her face and falling in between her icy cold eyes which are usually half closed to make them seem softer and less sharp. Her lips are graced with a pale, shimmer gloss which are always stretched into a gentle smile that can calm the cries of most any child. Alicel has a crazy assortment of clothes that changes almost everyday, but it’s never too flashy, and usually consists of pastel colors, a skirt, and a plain top. Most often she is wearing a pair of gray heeled boots, and white stockings that reach her upper thigh’s. A bluish lavender skirt is usually around her waist, the wavy folds just long enough to cover part of her white stockings. Alicel’s liking for pastel colors shows in her usual cream colored shirt, with a loose collar and wide sleeves which leave the shirt loose and comfortable. When it’s cold enough, Alicel wears a pale lavender scarf which is exactly three shades lighter then her skirt, and her thin bony wrists sometimes carry the burden of two silver bangles on either wrist. Her delicate hands usually have a clear coat of nailpolish on them, though it’s hardly noticeable.

Alicel's wings are practically invisible, only seen by their iridescent sheen. By what you can see, they look to be made of scales, rather then feathers, and have no frame. They simply seem to jut out of her back, the pair of wings small and hard to notice. However, strangely, her left hand has rather ugly burn marks all over the back of her hand, so she wears a simple white or black fingerless glove to cover it up.

Personality:At first glance, Alicel is easy to understand. She’s a polite and mannerly girl who always says and does the right things.

With a laid-back personality, Alicel may seem like she has a flat string of reactions, which is almost always a quiet smile and gentle response. She always tries her best to please the people around her, whether they’re foe or friend, and even though with her whacked out sense of humor and complete lack of common sense, the joke is usually on her. She’ll laugh at just about anything that’s not funny, and usually stays silent at things that are funny. An odd person, Alicel is seemingly the ideal person, and she’s always the first to try and cheer someone up. She rarely expresses any emotion in excess, other then a calm ditzy aura, giving most people the impression that she’s not a very smart person, when the truth is that she’s frighteningly intelligent. Alicel is unbelieveably gullible, helpless in stressing situations, and mostly only good for a laugh at her expense, or for moral support.

Even so, Alicel is a strange girl, who rarely puts all her trust in anyone. Her personality bounces off all sides of the walls, and perhaps the only insight to her true personality is her icy cold eyes. In reality, Alicel is an excellent actress, changing her personality and appearance so that she is more easily accepted by the people she meets. In reality, Alicel is a monster. She is envious of everyone around her, and is a very calculating person who can find to way to be jealous of just about everyone she even glances at. A good way to understand Alicel’s true personality is to find the opposite of her fake one. She loves to antagonize people, has absolutely no sense of humor, and is far from a dream girl. She doesn’t hesitate to make someone miserable for her own ego, and has a very low self-esteem which is more dangerous for others, then herself, due to her ruthless and selfish goals. Arrogant at heart, Alicel goes about judging people by first impressions, even though she gives everyone the impression that she always gives the benefit of the doubt.

Her short attention span, coupled with her rude bluntness, can make a very frustrating combination when Alicel isn’t pretending, though, this is a rare instance.

History: Alicel grew up surrounded by green. As a child, her questions as to why her left hand was so mangled were answered with the point, "Your parents both had the same hands. Don't worry about it." However, this sparked a curiousity in Alicel. Her parents didn't have left hands like hers. They were unblemished and as perfect as the rest of her skin. But only a child, she left the subject discarded, and never brought it up until she was finally old enough to understand what that meant. At the age of 13, she confronted her 'parents' about their past statement and was told that she was indeed, not truly of the Florinen family, but an ancient family who had fled from Carn and Carn's religious ways. She was told that the family she originated from was the Svartel family, a twisted family that was insane, and even after they fled from the Carn practices and changed their names, they still burned any child's left hand, to remind them of their ancestor's suffering.

Alicel was consumed, and looked up everything and anything about the Svartel family, even taking a short break to Carn to look around in the libraries there. She is very easily the most knowledgable girl in the world about the 'extinct' Svartel family, but was ultimately unsuccessful in finding the only other Svartel in the world she had read about, finding only a destroyed church in the site where he was said to reside. After her failure in finding the other Svartel, Alicel dropped the subject entirely, living her life as a Florinen, and blocking out any thoughts of the Svartel Family, trying to concentrate on the present. However, in reality, Alicel's root of jealousy and envy for everything and anything sprouts from her knowledge that she is ultimately a descendant of a ridiculed family who had to discard their name to live normal lives. Embarassed that this was her origin, she could no longer relate to anyone around her, and resorted to envying them.
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it's a shot in the dark but i'll make it

Last edited by Loki; July 17th, 2007 at 04:17 PM.
  #16    
Old July 16th, 2007, 06:48 PM
parallelzero's Avatar
parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm
Jyukai: Accepted, on both accounts.
Alter Ego: Obviously accepted, since your one sign-up is the size of my two combined.
Lex Rextron: Reserved. I still need to see a History.
Taichi: I'm sorry, but you're declined. You have potential, but your sign-up was lacking, and if you had taking the time to thoroughly read the first post, you would have known Underneath citizens have mahstion. That shows me that you aren't capable of thoroughly reading something and taking in all of the required details.
AnimeHero: WAY too short and detail lacking. Declined.
Shiney: Reserved.
Iruka: Accepted.

Anyways, I may start it tonight, I may start it in the morning. We'll see how I feel. XD
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  #17    
Old July 16th, 2007, 10:26 PM
Shiney's Avatar
Shiney
Sometimes, we come back!
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: Where exploitation is exploration
Age: 25
Nature: Lonely
Name: Bob "Bobby Roze" Rose

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Nationality: Carn

Class: Fighter/Footpad

Mahstion Type: Eation

Weapon Class: Bobby's light sword has a fairly thin blade, perfect for a one-handed use. He uses it in sync with his Mashtion to warp the blade slightly depending on the circumstances. Such as curving it, or adding a coating to it, making it appear like a short hiking stick. Attached to the pommel is a short wrist strap, which allows him to occasionally strike or move in ways that are hard for traditionalist fighters to anticipate as well as being easier to work with having only one hand.

Appearance: Bobby looks normal at a first glance, but under severe scrutiny, is quite an unsettling individual. His dark brown hair is mostly unkempt, if clean, hanging at a few inches long however gravity or wind leaves it. His hazelish eyes, brown near the edges, going to dark green, then bright yellowish green near the center are always bloodshot, and he seems to have a blank gaze more often than not. His skin is tanned on his arms legs and face, but a nearly pasty white underneath his clothes, with a great deal of sores on his arms and back. He always wears similar outfits of short sleeved shirts and denim slacks that hang somewhat loosely, kept in place with a black cloth belt with a brass buckle, with a very simple square design. Over which, he occasionally wears long coats that have a slightly longer left sleeve than right in dark, but bold colors, particularly earthy tones. And almost always, the same durable work boots that go halfway up his calf. Another prominent feature is his left hand, or lack thereof. A long-healed scar, his left arm ends abruptly in a stump where his wrist should be, the violent scarring left at the stump hinting at a very violent removal, as opposed to a clean cut. If someone were to examine his wrist bones with Mashtion, they'd find the marks of a brutal attempt to saw the hand off left on the bone. This is why his left sleeves are long to hide the lack of a hand, and the stump itself is wrapped in studded leather. His wings, not quite as large as the royal family's stretch to just under seven feet, with large soft brown feathers the same shade as his hair, almost like an owl's wings. Their only really defining feature are a few tinges of russet in with the brown, fading in very well, and only really visible in bright light.

Personality: Bobby's admittedly bitter when it comes to the world. He's admittedly spiteful, and will go to nearly any length to "settle matters and grievances" as he sees it. Among his few passions in life, vengeance is foremost in them, as is spite. His hand is signal enough of that. He rarely gets sleep, and can snap at people at little provocation, or just as likely mumble things that make no sense. He occasionally hallucinates, but they rarely get in his way. He's disdainful of his fellow countrymen for their self-restriction, but shows no true love or trust for anyone else, either. Mostly, his distance is just a shell to hide his anger, and sadness. Not to mention being utterly alone.

History: Bob grew up as a successful heir apparent to a semi-wealthy family in Carn, and seemed perfectly groomed for a a high ranking scout position. However, as he grew into adolescence, he, as most teenagers do, began to question what had been previously unquestionable beliefs. This meant many long nights of excruciating pain from his tattoo. However, ever pain was a prickling needle to both his anger, and his sense of spite. This in itself drove him half mad, both with pain and anger until at last, it came to the point where he had to do something. At the time, his mindset was to show everyone, that they didn't DARE try to control his mind. In a mere hour alone with a hack-saw, he had removed the tattoo of the black rose on his left hand. By removing the entire hand.

Finally free from being forcibly controlled, he was ready to resume life as normal. However, his parents resented him for what he had done, his military tutors refused to teach him, and after a lot of social pressure from their peers, his parents finally disowned him. Feeling betrayed by everyone, dumped alone into the world with no friends, he quickly set to murdering in the night, stalking in dark corners for the money for his meals, eventually earning enough for a trip to Gregar, where he spent nearly all his time unsuccessfully searching through religious writings for hopes of a key to improving his life. He's working on saving up for another, but his cynicism is slowly getting the better of him.
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Last edited by Shiney; July 18th, 2007 at 09:34 AM.
  #18    
Old July 17th, 2007, 03:10 PM
Jack O'Neill's Avatar
Jack O'Neill
Booted out - don't be like me!
 
Join Date: Jun 2005
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Nature: Quiet
[OOC: No guns? You're doing this to spite me, aren't you? No matter. It's only a matter of time before Aleks here finally figures out just what makes a Kalashnikov rifle tick.]

Name: Aleksandra Ivanovna Zaitseva

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Nationality: Underneath (ex-Carn)

Class: Scholar, part-time sky pirate

Mahstion Type: Lionus

Weapon Class: Aleks is a knife enthusiast and has been known to carry at least three different blades: an authentic United States Marine Corps KA-BAR utility knife and Hanyang Arsenal sword bayonet, both dating from the A.D. period, and a reproduction Gerber Mark II dagger.

Appearance: Aleks is a woman of average height and weight, 5'7" and weighing in at exactly 120 lbs, with bright sapphire-coloured eyes, a fair complexion, a thinly-built frame, and a 34" bust; her straight platinum-blonde hair drops down slightly past her shoulders. Her cherubic and demure countenance, however, is contrasted by her choice of clothing. Her daily attire is an exacting reproduction of a Soviet Naval Infantry battle dress uniform: camouflage-patterned shirt and pants, blue-and-white striped undershirt, black leather belt with gold buckle, black leather boots, and black felt beret.

Remarkably, Aleks lacks the wings and black rose tattoo that mark those of Carn heritage. She severed her own wings in order to blend in better among the residents of the Underneath, while she had the tattoo disenchanted and removed in a lengthy procedure that nearly killed her in the process; she still bears the scars of those procedures on her back and the back of her left hand.

Personality: For most intents and purposes, Aleks is the personification of cold, analytical thinking taken to its utmost extreme. Completely indifferent to the world around her, all she is concered about is sating her endless curiosity by accumulating as much knowledge as possible, by any and all means necessary. She views the world around her as a laboratory of infinite size, with the people and things in it simply as additional test subjects for her experiments. Her interests, while widespread, tend to lean towards machinery and martial pursuits; she is particularly fascinated by the military history of the A.D. period, especially where arms and armour are concerned (one of her current pursuits is attempting to figure out the operating priciples of firearms).

Due to her utter lack of empathy, Aleks finds it extremely difficult to communicate with other people. When she does speak, she does so in an extremely direct and straightforward (some would say rude) manner, with a distinctly dispassionate air about her; however, she tends to get extremely annoyed at even the slightest sign of ignorance, inattentiveness, and/or anti-intellectualism on the part of other people. She does have a (rather caustic) sense of humour, though her detached demeanor makes it near-impossible to tell whether she's actually joking or not.

History: Aleksandra Zaitseva made the mistake of being an atheist in a totalitarian, fundamentalist theocracy. While the Zaitsev family had always been notorious for its scientific mindset and its desire for religious and governmental reform (and suffered for it accordingly via the dark enchantments on their black rose brands), Aleks was perhaps the first individual in recorded Carn history to openly renounce the existence of the "deity" Tylonstus. Her heresy couldn't have come at a worse time, seeing as she made her proclamation right before the very outset of the Tealia-Carn conflict. Seizing the opportunity to make an example out of her, a Carn Royal Guard unit had her arrested, subjected to a mock trial, and imprisoned for "treason"; while incarcerated, she was subjected to various abuses and tortures, not the least of which was watching her parents getting executed before her very eyes. Despite this, she stoically soldiered on until she managed to escape during a Tealian black-ops raid on the prison camp holding her.

After fleeing from Carn, Aleks first settled in the nation of Beta, where she had her black rose tattoo removed (at great risk to both herself and the personnel performing the procedure) and assumed the guise of a simple scholar named Maria Ivanova. As Maria Ivanova, she took extremely quickly to her studies, eagerly consuming any and all knowledge she could get her hands on; she was particularly intrigued by human history of the A.D. period, specifically warfare and weaponry. When Carn Royal Guard agents eventually caught on to Aleks' presence in Beta, she simply made her way down to the Underneath, cut off her wings, and fell in with a group of sky pirates based out of what used to be Moscow, Russia.

RP Sample: [Do I still need one?]

Last edited by Jack O'Neill; July 18th, 2007 at 02:11 PM.
  #19    
Old July 17th, 2007, 06:33 PM
parallelzero's Avatar
parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm
OOC: Shiney, accepted.
Jack, accepted. You might get a chance for guns later. It depends if we make it that far in the plot. XD

"If there is evil in this world, it lies in the hearts of men." -Tales of Phantasia

December 31st, 199Y.Z. - In an airspace near the capital of Carn, Nephistos
"Reid! How are you doing? Run into any problems yet?" The headphone boomed into the brown haired boy's ear, startling him to the point where he shifted his stance on the airboard uncomfortably as if the sound had awaken him from a trance. He brought his right hand up to the goggle of the same side, an readjusted it so it fit snugly over his eye, before pressing a small switch on the side. On the right lens, he could now see the number 9500 displayed in LCD number on the bottom left. The goggles were an artifact of long ago, something rarely found in this day and age.

"I'm at 9500 feet, just 500 feet above Nephistos. Winds are at a reasonable speed of 45km/h, and the sun has set. I am left with only the lighting of the city below. I have located the pedestal of which the sacrifice, Rosaline Dian, will be sacrificed on in twenty minutes. Security is strong, and since it's Carn, I can assume most of them specialize in Dation. My objective is this: Retrieve the sacrifice before she is killed, and transport her back to Meredy safely. My mission is a failure if the sacrifice is killed, I am killed, or either of us are captured, correct?" The boy replied, almost robotically, as he took a seat on the edge of his board and removed a pair of binoculars from the right pocket of his jacket, and gazed out over the lit up city at his target. Nephistos, being the capital, was a pointlessly large city, and was the premier stop for anyone who followed Tylonisity. It was made up of many gothic style churches and the residential areas were made up of many expensive looking houses in many different styles. Almost like someone had taken a bunch of pictures of old architecture, and melded them into one picture. The target location was none other than the King's favorite place, the ruins of Notre-Dame. They were located right before the King's large, Medieval style castle, complete with four towers and a moat. Little remained of the cathedral other than the base. The towers had crumbled and collapsed years ago, and it was almost creepy to look at. In fact, this city would normally be considered beautiful. However, with what was about to take place, beautiful was hardly the word to describe it.

"Yes, exactly. However, your rest location has been altered. It was originally Alto, but Carn successfully took custody of the nation a few hours ago. It would not be wise to stop there. Now, you'll be resting on the Autonomy, a ship of the sky pirates, the Raven Claws." If Reid had a drink he probably would have spit it out at this point. He had originally served as a mechanic on that very ship, but snuck away a few years ago. This was abandonment to them, but if they were working in conjunction with the Tealian Special Forces, perhaps they would refrain from harming him... "It seems we have a common goal with them this time, though I suggest keeping Ms. Dian close to you while aboard that ship. I'm not exactly sure why they want this sacrifice stopped. Be careful, Reid. Also, do NOT forget to hide your scarf. If they were to find out it was the work of Tealia, they would surely charge into another war with us! With that being said, I will see you when you get back!" The headphone cut off, giving Reid no time to protest. I guess there's nothing to do now but wait... He thought to himself as he waited for the time to tick by.

Cell of Tylonstus, 11:50pm
"Madam, are you ready?" An old, raspy, female voice called from outside the thick, steel door. The girl stirring in the darkness did not reply, and the woman walked in anyways. She was an elderly looking woman, dressed in a plain white robe with a hood over her head. Her grey hair spilled out of the sides of the hood down to her sandaled feet, and her feathered wings taking a similar grey colouring. She approached the darkness, and grabbed hold of an arm within. As the arm was pulled into the light, it was shown to be a dainty one, with perfectly manicured fingernails, and skin so pale it was nearly white, like it had never seen sunlight before. A girl followed the arm. She was, to put it quite bluntly, a mess. She had dark blue hair that almost looked brown with the amount of filthy present in it, and you could even see the dust present on her soft face. She was dressed in a white shirt that was at least five sizes too big for her, falling down to her knees, and stained brown, and even her beautiful white wings were covered with a light dusting of brown, the odd few feathers missing here and there. She put up no fight, but rather followed without instruction out the door and into the real world for the first time in her life. The woman then entered a large brown carriage, beckoning the girl to come in after her. As the door was shut, and the carriage finally began, the two finally began to talk. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? If you want to run away now, I won't make any attempt to stop you..." The woman asked.

However, the girl shook her head from side to side in response, and finally opened her mouth. "I'd have nowhere to go. I know nothing of the world, and I have no real family. I was born to die, that's my purpose in this world."

"I see, and you really believe that?" The girl nodded her head. "Then I won't ask again... Ah, we're here..." Rose opened the door on her side, and stepped out to find herself just before a pedestal, masses and masses of people behind her. Some were cheering, some were booing, it all depended on how they interpreted this offering. A fairly large man wearing nothing but a white dress shirt and black dress pants underneath a robe approached the girl. While he was bald, he had a very long, black mustache that curled just above his lip, and he held a large golden staff in his right arm. He took Rose's hand and led her to the top of the pedestal, where he pressed a button on the staff which triggered a sharp, dagger like blade shooting from top.

"People of Carn!" The high priest's voice boomed as he threw his arms in the air, quieting the large, noisy crowd below. Sitting in a large throne before the crowd was the King himself, there to see his second daughter's blood spilled. His first daughter, Juliet, was not present for she was against the whole thing in the first place. She had visited Rose from time to time, and didn't want to see her only sister killed. The bishop put his staff on an angle, so that the blade was just before Rosaline's neck. The girl showed no change in emotion, a blank look still on her face with her arms tied behind her back, and her wings pinned back. "I give to you, the fourth offering of Tylonstus, Rosaline Dian, second daughter of King Dian!" The King gave a large grin at the mention of his name. He was a large man, muscular wise. In fact, he was quite the giant. He had large white wings, and long black hair that flowed down his black, a large crown on his head. He was dressed in your usual kingly robe, made of purple and dark blue materials, and a huge sword was seen at his waist for any soul unfortunate and stupid enough to try and attack him. The King raised his large, bulky hand to signal the sacrifice, and the sound of a life ending was heard.

However, it was not Rose's life. The priests staff fell out of his hands to the ground, as his body fell soon after, a large wooden arrow protruding from his chest. The crowd instantly became silent, not exactly sure how to respond to what was going on. Some began to flee for the exits, while the Carn soldiers began making attempts to scout for the killer. Rose just stood there, in shock about what was going on. Was someone trying to save her life? Her life that had no meaning? In the midst of the chaos, something took hold of her shirt and pulled her backwards off the pedestal, and onto the ground. When Rose opened her eyes again, she found herself looking up at the face of a boy. He had spiky brown hair, and a pair of goggles rested on his forehead. "Uh... sorry. Didn't really have any other way of getting you down without being seen, you see. Can you fly if I untie your wings?" Rose shook her head, indicating a negative response. "That's right, I guess you wouldn't have learned, being trapped in a cell all your life..." She could tell this boy was wingless, and she was very curious as to how he'd snuck in. Her question was answered however, as he threw a red board on the ground and cut the rope tying her arms together. He then proceeded by pulling a badge out of his coat pocket and showing it to her. "Teal Special Forces. My name is Reid Davies, and I'm a B class Wionus user. Now, if you'd please get on the board after me and hold on tight..." He stepped onto the board, and she stepped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso. Getting out of there was going to be a gamble...

Reid closed his eyes for a second, and the sound of wind rushing below them was heard. The sound intensified, and the board began lifting up into the air until it they were visible to everyone, including the King, who took out his sword in an outrage. Reid, on the other hand, paid it no mind and took off, leaving a storm of chaos in his wake. The two flew for about six hours, and the entire time the girl didn't speak, no matter how many times Reid attempted to make her do so. Eventually, they reached halfway to the ship, just barely at the border between Carn and Tealia. The sun was rising, and the world below them was a breathtaking sight, covered in fluffy white clouds. They were close to Alta at this point, maybe fifty kilometers to the north, and that was as close as Reid was intending on going. He was to meet the ship 3/4 of the way to Meredy, which meant he still had at least a three hour flight ahead of him. That was when things went awry, though. As if out of nowhere, the sky flashed yellow for a few moments, forcing the two to double over in pain. It was excruciating, especially in their heads. As you can imagine, doubling over on a board 9000 feet in the air was never a good thing, especially when you're knocked unconscious. The two plunged towards the ground below, no way to save themselves...

OOC: So, your characters don't have to become unconscious, mine just are due to fatigue. Now, who's going to be nice and save my characters? Maybe even dress Rose up in some decent clothes? XD
Don't forget you'll get the dot after the pain. The only mahstion type that's colour shouldn't be obvious is Wionus, and the colour for it is green.
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  #20    
Old July 17th, 2007, 06:58 PM
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Loki
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OOC: Why, Alicel will, since she lives in Alta. So I have dibs. ;3 Post coming~!

IC: "Oh well." Aertan sighed, closing the book he'd been holding open like the other stand-by priests who were there to help guide the Princess Rose's spirit safely to Tylonstus. The others had long dropped their books in the mess, as everyone tried to find Princess Rose. If anyone hadn't expected something to be done, it wasn't Aertan. Thus, when everyone started panicking and shouting and yelling, Aertan stood rooted to the spot, roughly brushing aside anyone who threatened to topple him over with his wings. Putting the book neatly on the floor Aertan ran a hand through his hair, before calmly walking through the crowd, parting it by picking up the people in front of him and placing them aside with Haeon't and Geon't scaring off anyone who dared say anything in protest. Aertan's home and church was not far from the pedestal, and the walk was short before he found himself standing before the Priests and Nuns who had raised him, all of them asking questions hurriedly, but with an air of dignity.

"The people passing by told us the Sacrifice escaped."

"That's correct." Aertan replied in a blank voice.

"You did nothing to find the Sacrifice?"

"You came straight back?"

That's correct. Aertan said nothing though. For what reason should he subject himself to wearing himself out more over a girl whom he'd only seen once? Tylonstus could surely wait until the girl was captured.

"Please, refrain from showing your hands to the public eye." Father said patiently. Aertan blinked and nodded, whipping Haeon't and Geon't back into their rightful places. As if leading a procession, the Father turned back into the church, Aertan, and the others who had greeted Aertan following him into the church. The large heavy mahogany doors shut behind them with a heavy thud, the church lit only by candle light, a policy that one could not bring creations that were not of Tylonstus into his home. Aertan walked silently past all the wooden benches, matching the grand door in which he had passed and called the doorstep to his only home and hosue. However, rather then following the Father behind the podium, at the grandest organ Aertan had ever seen, he turned and walked into a room off to the side. Nothing in particular ran through Aertan's mind, other then there would be trouble when the people came asking him whether he'd seen the kidnapper. Other then there would be trouble when the people came asking him whether he'd had any hand in the job.

Setting his fingertips on the doorknob to his small and dusy room, Aertan's eyes widened in surprise, something rare and shocking in itself. As if electrocuted, Aertan immediately withdrew his hand from the doorknob, and slapped his hand to his forehead. His red eyes dilated and un-dilated, as Haeon't and Geon't emerged from Aertan's wings, also writhing and trembling. The rose tattoo's on the hands burned and glowed with a bright blackness, but strangely enough, Aertan's tattoo did not glow. A firey red dot emerged behind Aertan's maroon colored bangs, noticed only by Haeon't who peeled the red lock of hair away from Aertan's face to get a better look, as Geon't continued to shriek in pain, though the tattoo no longer glowed with as much malice as before.
"I am not a curse."

"I am a blessing."






To cry is a virtue

To live is a SIN


"Alicel!" Ella called to me, "I think it's about time you went to bed, don't you?"

"That's alright Ella," I yelled back at my adoptive mother, "I want to finish watering the carnations!"

No. That wasn't true. It was long past dark, and the carnations had long since closed their petals to the outside world. What I would give to do that myself. Wearing my white nightdress that resembled a sundress in much too many ways, I took light steps around the garden in which I had cultivated. Cultivated before I had lost myself. Cultivated before I had lost my name. Florinen. It was a beautiful name, not fit for such an ugly girl as myself. Svartel. That's what I was. A girl from a ridiculed family who were so fearful they couldn't even protect their own pride. The flowers were beautiful. The flowers had no worries. The flowers here, had no name to live up to. They had already fulfilled everything. Squatting down beside the rosebushes I'd planted earlier today, they were actually mere mounds of soil, mixing with the earth around them. I reached out to pick up a clump of dirt with my fingers, which glowed like moonlight against the sheer blackness of the night. I stood up once I had the freshly watered soil on my hands, and let it fall back to the earth. Back to where it belonged.

"Alicel, you should go outside without your robes on you know." Reks, my adoptive father smiled at me, "You'll catch a cold!"

I smiled and said, "Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine."

"Ah, look there. A blood red star, perhaps?" Reks looked up at the sky.

I stared at him for a moment before turning around to look up where his head was tilted, but squealed when I felt an enormous gust of wind worthy of a tornado lift me right off my feet. Reks twisted his gnarled wooden walking stick in such quick circles that his hand was a blur, and when the tornado moved off to the blood star, I landed roughly back on the stone walkway. Looking up I realized why Reks had used his Wionus Mahstion. That was no star. It was no blood star. It was something else. Lifting up his other hand, the tornado moved with even greater speed as it moved to catch the falling star.

"The wind tells me that there are two people."

I laughed nervously, as the wind never said anything to Reks. He just liked to point out the obvious and credit it to the wind. It was unmistakeable, to see the two people and the red thing we'd mistaken as a blood star floating in the middle of the winds that crashed against against each other. It was only what a former mountain rescuer could do, and as I smiled, a splitting pain that felt like it had cracked my head open crossed me in a split second. Reks looked down at me when I held a hand lightly to my forehead which burned. Reks turned and called for Ella while I recovered from my sudden migrane.

"Ouch." I muttered quietly and bitterly to myself, loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough so that Reks wouldn't question why there was so much malice in my voice.

"Oh goodness!" Ella said as she peered down into the tornado which had since grown smaller to keep the two off the ground, "What is this?!"

I knew immediately by looking at the girl. The Carn sacrifice.

"We should bring them to town." I stated quickly. It would be trouble to house an escaped sacrifice. A pain.

"Now," Ella said scoldingly, "If we did that to people we rescued, you wouldn't be here right now!"

I narrowed my eyes in a death glare as Ella and Reks turned back into the house to deal with the new guests. How dare that witch mention my roots to my face. I knew it was a careless slip of the tongue, but it was all I could do not to break the nearest irrigation system and crush the Florinen household. Instead, I marched inside and held my tongue, heeding Ella's every command. Blankets, one of my nightdresses, a brush, a rag, a bowl of warm water for the sacrifice's dirty hair. Ella loved playing nurse. I simply played my part, getting the only guest bedroom ready and spreading two thick blankets used for winter on the floor for a makeshift bed, and placing a normal blanket on top, fixing a pillow at one end, and tucking in the blanket on the other.

"The bedrooms are ready." I said, and Ella smiled, nodding. In five minutes time, the sacrifice already looked respectable enough to pass. But not by my standads. She was still wearing her T-shirt and grimy shorts. I resisted the temptation to cover my nose and mouth with my hand, and also the urge to puke when Ella stated that the nightdress I'd gotten was a tad too big. What, was she going to let that filthy sacrifice wear it?

No. I pressed my hand against the side of my head. Charity, Alicel. Charity. Besides. It's not like I have to wear that nightdress again. She can have it. That will pass for charity. Yes... that would pass for generosity, not vanity.

"Alright." I smiled and went to retrieve one of my older nightdresses I'd slightly outgrown.

I didn't know why I was being worked back and bone to accomodate a sacrifice but I bit back words, and bit my tongue down until I could taste the metallic blood of holding back my bitter complaints. After I finally placed the two glasses of water for the sacrifice and her apparent savior, I glared down at her as Reks used his gentle skills with his mahstion to lower her and the boy into bed. What a girl. Sacrifice to princess in the Florinen house all in one night. What a bundle of ridiculous luck.

And now, the Florinen house would get itself neck-high in trouble with Carn.

"That girl is the Tylonstus Sacrifice." I finally said.

"Hmm?" Ella said, "Well, that's alright, what happens in Carn has nothing to do with what happens in Alta, am I right?"

A naive look at life. But so be it. If the Florinen family name was scathed, I could simply revert to being a Svartel. A Svartel in Alta was a clean Svartel. And in Carn, I coud don a different name. Not Florinen or Svartel.

A new identity.

"What's that dot on your forehead Alicel?" Reks pointed his cane at my forehead as I watched Ella pull up the covers to the girls chin before moving to the makeshift bed to help the boy rest in a more comfortable position then the one that he'd ended up with when he'd crumpled the sheets I'd smoothed out so painstakingly.

"What dot?"





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Last edited by Loki; July 17th, 2007 at 07:51 PM.
  #21    
Old July 18th, 2007, 01:25 AM
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Alter Ego
that evil mod from hell
 
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: Touhou land, grazing danmaku all the way
Age: 26
Nature: Quirky
Lance Penderson was speechless. For anyone who knew the first thing about the crotchety old veteran, this would have been enough of a sign to deduce that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Lance Won't-freakin'-shut-up Penderson had always been the one to get the last word. Even on the battlefield where one of his lungs was impaled by a spear had he managed to slur out a stream of profanities about his enemy's mother, even after consuming enough alcohol to stun a donkey, long beyond the point where his brain had kept up, he had managed to mumble something incomprehensible, and no-one had yet to manage the feat of having him shut up about his war wounds - especially the left wing which ached like you wouldn't believe - but now...

The old man rubbed his eyes in disbelief, staring at his grimy fingers and trying to will them into looking like ten in a desperate attempt to dismiss the bizarre sight in front of him as another figment of his alcohol-addled mind. Much to his dismay, the fingers remained disappointingly in focus and a quick search through the pockets of his dirty bomber jacket confirmed that his spare comfort bottle remained firmly corked. The being in front of him - this wisp-like girl with her teal hair, wide, innocent puppy dog eyes and the belt of notebooks wound a full two times around her waist which seemed almost as thin as the length of rope holding the journals together - was indeed as real as everything else in the world. Yet she had done what was supposed to have been impossible: she had listened. Not only that, she had paid attention. For what must surely have been several hours, this peculiar apparition had just sat there and listened with an expression of intense concentration spread across her child-like face, everything from his war-time memories to his personal grudge list and regular moans she had listened to, and as if this wasn't enough she had asked for clarifications, specifics on the countless ailments - both imaginary and real - he had moaned about and to top it all off she had even offered him an ointment of her own design, which - she promised - should clean the wound right up, all the while scribbling down notes without even glancing at the words she put on paper. Normally, Lance would just have reached for his bottle and drunk himself out of the situation, but...well, this was a child, wasn't it? He may have been a foul-mouthed and miserable wretch, but somewhere at the back of the dark and unexplored reaches of his mind - albeit probably pickled in watered-down counterfeit vodka like the rest of his mind - his pride was still alive; he would not suffer the indignity of being outlasted by someone one fourth his age, especially someone with as flimsy a name as Faewyn.

This called for strategy, and when the stranger made a bad turn with the pencil - immediately spawning a small bruise on one of her knuckles - the old man lunged at the opportunity with the fervor of a drowning man spotting that last straw of grass which might just - by some unfathomable stretch of faith - support his weight.

"Gel, 'ave ya' 'ad dat fo' long?!" he exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the tiny bruise.

"Hmm?" Faweyn blinked, examining the abrasion with polite curiosity, "No, I just got it."

"No, no, not dat!" the old man croaked in what he himself considered pretty damn good fake astonishment, grasping the finger with his grimy hands, "I mean, d'ya get does a lot?"

"All the time." the girl replied airily, "It's just a little bruise."

"No!" Lance barked, "No, it ain't gel! Dat's wut a lot of 'em think, but it ain't! Dat dere's the first symptom of antioxymoronisilicosis! If ya' don't get dat treated right away it'll melt away all yer neurons fast as ya blink!"

"Really?" Faewyn gasped, here eyes widening in awe. Inwardly, the veteran sighed in relief. The hook was in place, now he'd just have to reel it in.

"I wouldn't tell ya no bull, gel!" he replied, vigorously rising up on his feet - and feeling the slight backlash of pain from the left one of his ragged, gray-feathered wings for doing so - and grasping one of the girl's arms to tow her along, "Don't talk, it'll only make it spread faster. Then you'll get all 'ese 'orrible spasms an'-"

He was cut off short as the sky suddenly flashed yellow, the thin girl flinching and nearly tumbling over. This was just too much for the old man. That ailment he had talked about, it was just made up, right? It wasn't like the bizarre concoctions of his mind were coming to life now, RIGHT?! No, of course it wasn't; all of it was obviously caused by this odd stranger, as soon as he put some well-needed distance between himself and her everything would go back to being normal again.

"See?!" he cried, "It's startin' already, gel! Don't move a muscle, I'll take ya' somewhere where 'ey can 'elp!"

With that, Lance promptly picked the girl up in a fireman lift, amazed by just how light she felt, and sprinted across the fields towards a house he knew in the distance. Yes, the Florinens had a thing for playing good Samaritans, didn't they? No doubt they'd take in the strange girl-child without question. At least...he hoped so. After all, this could really be serious, and he certainly didn't want a dead kid on his conscience at this point of his life.

The guilt welled up more and more in the old man as he came closer and closer to the building, his heartbeat quickening in panic. What if he didn't make it? What if the girl really died? What if everyone would think it was his fault? So flustered was he with these thoughts that he barged in without knocking, immediately charging through the front door and into the guest rooms.

"Quick!" he roared as loudly as his worn lungs would permit, "This gel' went all weak and faint like an' I didn't do anythin' to her but she just went like this when the sky flashed an' I thought I'd better bring 'er 'ere 'cause ye know more about 'ese thins' 'an I do an'-" he paused, his eyes finally catching up with his mind as he saw all the housefolk gathered in the room, just before his eyes shifted to Rosaline and Reid.

"Wat?" he rasped, despair etched in his features, "Wat' the 'ell is goin' on 'ere?". Faewyn, meanwhile, was observing the whole situation in her usual placid manner, offering everyone a friendly smile, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her head was lolling upside-down over the old man's shoulder, pencil and notebook still grasped in her hands. She was practically dying to say something, but in her current condition that wouldn't be good, would it? The spasm had really only hurt for a moment, but what if it was recursive? Her forehead did feel a bit sore, but without a mirror she couldn't check. Ohh...how she wished that she could write this all down right now, but that wouldn't do either. Hopefully the nice woman hanging from the ceiling would heal her quickly; Faewyn had a feeling that whatever she had just felt would be very important for "Faewyn's Complete Guide to Everything" and she didn't want to forget a bit.
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Last edited by Alter Ego; July 18th, 2007 at 10:31 AM.
  #22    
Old July 18th, 2007, 09:25 AM
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Shiney
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Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: Where exploitation is exploration
Age: 25
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The clang of steel rang out time after time as the guard forced me to back up slowly, step by step. I had a small goldpurse clutched in my teeth from my last murder, but the guard had found me before I could get away. I had to keep him occupied before he could give the alarm. But he had seen me that meant I couldn't let him walk away alive...

He used a full straight sword with both hands, and automatically assumed that would give him an advantage, especially on a straight wall. I had to finish this quickly, before another patrol came, and he was good. I saw him preparing for an overhead strike, and quickly fell to my knees, bracing myself, allowing me to block the heavy blow as it crashed down. Surprised that his blow hadn't cut me in two, I forced myself up quickly, striking him in the face with my studded "glove" for my stump. Now, it wasn't as good as a gauntlet, but iron studs hitting you in the face have always hurt. He stumbled backwards, and the balance of the battle shifted catastrophically.

Now constantly trying to recover from my chain of fast strikes, he was the one who was moving. A sword that big and heavy was harder to block quickly. If he let his blocking slip long enough to attack, I'd run him through. My time was running out, I had to hurry. This close to the Alta border, patrols were very regular. Taking a risk, I stepped forward, making a lunging strike. Immediately, he brought his arms and blade down to block me, and I grinned as I stepped forward, turning as I did so. I caught the quillons of his blade against my edge with the blade braced over my shoulder, giving me more leverage than two hands would've, flinging it off into the night as I spun around, my blade flying over my shoulder, around my torso, and straight into his throat. He seized as a small trickle of blood began flowing from my strike, but no scream. I hadn't hit his jugular, but his windpipe. I couldn't afford a shout.

Strangely, as I did so, I felt a sharp pain in my head, not much worse than my usual headaches though, and the guards eyes moved to my forehead with shock. Then they lost their focus, glazing over as life fled from him. I drew my blade out, not bothering to wipe it off. I only kneeled long enough to pluck up a loose stone from the top of the wall, and set out into the night on near silent wings. I began to focus Eation into the stone, smoothing one surface continually, until it was as smooth as a mirror. It was a mirror. In the middle of my forehead, almost, but not quite obscured by my hair was a small dot, a deeper brown than my hair, nearly black. And it seemed to sparkle slightly, almost like a rich ore...
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  #23    
Old July 18th, 2007, 10:12 AM
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parallelzero
chelia.blendy
 
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: The capital of Canada (not Toronto)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nature: Calm
OOC: Lex, accepted. Yay for short crappy posts. XD

Some say dreams feed off of a person's memories and project these memories back into a person's mind when they sleep, the person's state of mind affecting whether or not the memories are twisted into something surreal. Others say dreams do not exist at all, but rather they are figments of man's imagination, produced for no reason at all. Whether dreams are real or not doesn't really change the messages they try to relay to us. Anyone who has ever had a deja vu before could tell you that.

"Honey! What did he do to you!? Where are your- OH MY GOD!" The feminine voice cried out, not even fazing the boy before her. It was pouring rain amidst a lush forest, and it was difficult to see that the boy was crying. Another voice boomed, "You understand what this means, right? We have to..." Everything went dark, the boy left alone in eternal darkness. Then, all he could hear was voices, voices everywhere...

"Okay, who let a drunk in my roo- ...Aw, crap." Reid said in a tone that demanded attention, although coming from a kid that was hard to obtain. He looked around frantically, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Rosaline sleeping nearby. Even still, they were in a strange house, with strange people all around. He made an approximation based on his location when he fell unconscious. "Is this... Alta?" He got out of the neatly made bed, and stood before the group, grabbing his board from nearby and placed it on his back. "My name is Reid Davies, I'm with the Tealian Special Forces... I'd show you my badge if I could find it..." He repeatedly checked his pockets over and over again, his face turning redder every time. Crap, it must have blown away when we fell... This was actually more problematic than it seemed, because chances were nobody would believe this kid was with the Tealian forces. "A-anyways, thank you, but we really must go, I have to get this girl to a rendezvous soon..." He walked over to the bed with Rosaline in it, and noticed a peculiar yellow dot on her forehead. Of course, he wasn't aware he had a green one on his. "I will have the Tealian forces send a reasonable reward to this house, but due to the circumstances surrounding Alta right now, I REALLY need to get her out of here."
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  #24    
Old July 18th, 2007, 10:53 AM
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Loki
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Location: Tokyo, Japan
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OOC: LUL, I'm so confused as to what's going on, so forgive me if this post seems to have no direction. < <;;

For the entire day, Alicel had busied herself with gardening, keeping a peeled eye for soldiers. But as usual, the town which could be reached only by a very unpleasant path had few visitors, and the Florinen family, (thanks to Alicel's short visit,) in as good graces with Carn as someone in a conquered country could be, was not intruded upon by anyone of Carn descent, other then the sacrifice. But Ella had called her inside with a basket of carrots and potatoes and celery earlier today, to help with dinner. But they were then intruded upon ever more by a man from town, with a girl over his shoulder. Alicel stared with light surprise at the girl who smiled at her from the man's shoulder. Was that position the best note-taking position for her to be in? How strange...

"Lance, breaaaathe." Reks said smiling as he took a few steps to the door, "It seems that tonight is going to be rather busy, as we have two kids who just fell out the sky!" Laughing to himself, he moved past Lance, "Would you like some vegetable soup? We have some leftover, I'll heat it up. I'm sure everyone's hungry at such a late hour."

"Oh, Alicel, will you help your father? He'll end up blowing the stove away, like last time. Then it'd be best for you to dish out lets see... seven bowls? Well, maybe just five, seeing as the other two are still sleeping." Ella said holding up five fingers to Alicel, who smiled and nodded, hurrying to the kitchen and starting a fire underneath the stove.

"I'll get the bowls~" Reks said, lifting his cane.

"No!" Alicel stopped him hastily, "That's alright, I'll get them. You go and... find more blankets for another bed, how's that?"

Reks smiled, "Sounds peachy!" And he clunked away to search through the closets. Sighing in relief after saving seven bowls, Alicel lined them up neatly around the table as she pulled out a metal ladle, and stirred the soup which had sat covered where it was for the past hour. Making sure it wasn't scalding hot, Alicel quickly dished out five bowls of soup, and placed four on a tray, before lifting it and carrying it into the guest bedroom, which seemed to be the new congregation room.

"Well it's very nice to meet you Reid, this is Alta, and you need not go to the trouble of finding your badge, nobody here will doubt you for a second. You are, after all, with the Carn Sacrifice, for whatever reason." Reks was saying after Reid had finished talking, introducing everyone as common courtesy, "I am Reks, this is a friend, Lance, and seemingly a friend of his, the girl over his back, and this is my wife Ella. Ah, and at the door now is Alicel-" However, his wife quickly interuppted him at this point.

"Oh, but, are you sure you want to leave right away? The poor girl's still sleeping!" Ella was saying, not quite through playing hostess, as she moved over to place the tray in Alicel's hands on the now cluttered nightstand, "After all, we should at least let her change into some proper clothes before you leave. Or perhaps have a bowl of soup? Alicel's gone to the trouble of heating it back up."

"If the boy wants to leave Ella," Reks said, carrying a huge mess of blankets, "Then we shouldn't hold him back. Perhaps he's in hurry to meet the Taelian forces."

"Or maybe he's being pursued by Carn soldiers." Alicel muttered to herself sarcastically, saying the only logical and obvious point that Ella and Reks seemed not to register. But she quickly replaced her sweet mask. What a dawdling family. The kid and the sacrifice wanted to leave, but Ella was still insisting on them staying. It wasn't as if Carn soldiers came knocking on our door everyday, but this was a special case. But Ella seemed to have come to ends with her unavoidable predicament.

"If you would like," Alicel said sweetly, "You can have that nightdress, so she'll have something a little nicer to wear once she wakes up."
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Last edited by Loki; July 18th, 2007 at 06:07 PM.
  #25    
Old July 18th, 2007, 11:16 AM
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"Err... Alright Bardrin, let's get this right." Bardrin raised his mighty great sword with both hands. This simple task was getting harder and harder as the day passed by because of the weight of the metal weapon. His arms were sore from swinging the blade repeatedly at the giant trees in the forest where the soldier trained for two weeks of every month. So far he had been able to chop down three trees with nothing but his great sword in one day, but he was hopping for at least two more before the sun hit just below the horizon to end the day.

The brown blade reflected what little light made it's way through the thick brush of leaves the trees carried. "I think I have about three more hours before nightfall hits," Bardrin grumbled to himself. He looked at the damaged three that stood before him. "We're going to cut this one down and then quickly finish off the one that sits to it's right." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he lunged forward at the tree.

Bardrin swung the blade, hitting the tree and cutting into the right of the light grey bark. "Not good enough. Hit it harder," Bardrin thought to himself just before he hit the tree trunk. The soldier jumped up and hit the tree in the same motion, this time with more power behind the swing. He could hear the sound of wood and metal striking each other as he made a quick combo by pushing himself up by using a nearby branch and then striking it higher up. Bardrin threw the great sword to the ground and flipped off of the branch and onto the ground below. To his amazement, he had landed before the blade and got to watch as the sharp end quickly stuck itself into the soft ground.

Before picking up the sword, Bardrin looked up at the tree to see his work thus far. Not much of deference, but you could see two deep gashes in the side of the large oak. "This time I should be able to slice completely through." Bardrin coughed and pulled his sword out of the ground. Time to finish off the three, but first he had to focus. Once again he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Like before, his eyes snapped open and he ran as fast as his large body would carry him at the wooden plant.

Bardrin jumped just a few feet away from the tree and continued to run up the tree's trunk until he reached the section with the largest gash. "You're finished!" Bardrin launched his final attack, but before he could make his final attack a sudden shock through his head made him roar out in pain. He threw the blade off to the side and went to push off of the tree. Another shock of pain went off in his head and before he could reach the ground, Bardrin fainted and hit the ground flat on his back.

Four Hours Later

"Mr. Karson sir. Wake up Mr. Karson sir."

Bardrin opened his eyes slowly and looked up to see a woman he knew from the town he lived in. Her name was Anavilia Pupitson, but everyone called her Anna. She was a very old lady, some guessed she was the oldest in the town and that wouldn't be hard to believe as she was almost eighty-nine years old. Bardrin sat up almost as slow as he opened his eyes. There she was with a bowl of water by her right side and to her left was her grandson Joseph who was holding another bowl, only this one held tons of nuts and berries.

"Here Mr. Karson, have a glass of water," Anna said. She snapped at her grandson and he pulled a glass cup out of the bowl he was carrying. The old lady pulled a clean white towel out of her pocket and wiped out the glass and then dipped into the water to her right. Bardrin took the glass of water and thanked the nice woman. He quickly put the rim of the glass to his lips and chugged down the cool water.

"It's good to see that you are all right Mr. Karson." Anna took the glass from Bardrin and handed it back to Joseph. "Me and young Joe he saw the whole thing. We were just coming back from the river when we noticed you training as you usually do. We didn't want to walk by incase that great big sword sliced one of us in half so we decided to rest and watch you for a bit. When you went for that last strike we noticed that you threw down your blade and right after that your body turned over and you fell strait down.

"Joseph ran out before me as I'm not as fast as I once was," the old lady continued. "For a second there we thought that you had died because of the fall you had just experienced. Joe here checked for a pulse and any broken bones, but nothing bad seemed to have happed to you. We debated for a few minutes if someone should go get help for you, but neither one of us wanted to leave you out here in the woods so we sat here for about four hours. It wasn't until a few minutes ago that we noticed that you were starting to mumble in your sleep, so we thought that was a sign that you were coming back to your senses. It took us about five minutes to wake you up, but we did it." Anna smiled at Bardrin after she had finished the story.

"Thank you Ms. Anna," Bardrin said weakly. He was currently having a rough time breathing, but that usually happened after he hit the ground from that high up from the ground. "I think we should head back to town as it's now dark. Even though I can see really well in the dark I need to sleep a little bit longer to rest up my sore body." Bardrin slowly got to his feet with the help of Joseph.

"Uh... Mr. Karson. My grandmother forgot to mention one more thing," Joseph said as he backed away to his grandmother's side. "About four hours ago, when he came to check on your condition, there was a black dot in the center of your forehead. I've never seen anything like it, but if you would like to see then you can take a look at your reflection in the bowl of water right here." Joseph picked up the bowl and handed it to Bardrin.

For a second Bardrin thought that Joseph was joking, but it didn't take him long to realize that he was telling the truth. Right in the center of his forehead was a perfectly round black dot. Bardrin rubbed at it thinking that it was nothing but a piece of dirt or something, but it wouldn't come off. "Where the hell did that come from?" Bardrin asked himself.
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