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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Mar 19, 2010 19:27:42 GMT -5
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on May 24, 2010 15:06:11 GMT -5
Name:
Anastasio D'artagnan
Age:
270
Race:
Elf
Play-By:
Still on the fence about this one.
Colour Code:
Fire Engine Red (CE2029)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Roma (Indian with some European thrown in)
Accent:
Galician (French)
Occupation:
Queen Islanzadí's bodyguard; con man
Allegiance:
Islanzadí Dröttning
Appearance:
Anastasio, despite being an elf, isn’t similar to the rest of his race. His parents were from the far south-eastern land of Roma, where the warm climate and lack of food made elves much darker and slighter than their northern counterparts. Anastasio is just around six feet tall, small for an Alagaësian elf but still tall for a human, with a thin frame covered by a light layer of muscle, making his arms and legs reminiscent of whipcords. Ana was never the type for physical combat, and actually has no training in it, nor does he have any need for lifting large objects. His slender build gives him the agility he needs to move silently and disappear quickly, both for his audience’s pleasure and for evasion.
Anastasio’s skin, despite his lack of love for the sun, remains a dark copper shade, complimenting his straight pitch-black hair, which grows down to his upper back and is usually kept loose around his shoulders. His face has prominent bone structure, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw line and chin that is usually clean-shaven. Anastasio has thin lips, a proud nose, and a barely noticeable cleft in his chin. His face might be called elegantly handsome by many if his eyes weren’t so odd. Framed by thick black eyebrows, they are a deep, rich golden, and usually hold a charming, mischievous look to them. Anastasio does not hide his exotic features or his elf ears, instead tucking his hair behind them to show his entire face off, as people tend to be more interested in elves.
Anastasio usually dresses in darker shades of various colours, and his clothing is finely tailored, almost what a man of high status would wear. He is always very careful to wear clothes that are simple in design and function, not the massive flowing robes and gold-trimmed fancy overcoats that most of the wealthy wear, but that are also attractive and well-kept so that he doesn’t look like a common peasant, either. He doesn’t look rich enough to make the poor cower in his presence, but doesn’t look poor enough to make the rich turn up their noses at him, either. The dark shades exude an air of mystery, as well as helpful for disguising Anastasio should he have the need to disappear. One more oddity about Anastasio is his shadow- it creeps about and stalks Ana's victims instead of following his movements. This shadow is actually a bodiless spirit that Anastasio refers to simply as the Revenant.
Personality:
Anastasio D’artagnan is a very difficult man to get to know. Even when with his own sect, the Friends of Red Anya, and Islanzadí, few people are able to truly see who he is. This isn’t because he isn’t social- Anastasio is a conversationalist, if on the quiet side, and won’t turn down anyone who comes up to talk to him. However, though he talks, and does give the occasional tidbit about his personal life, years and years of conning everyone from the richest nobleman to the poorest and most deranged beggar has made him a master of hiding his true feelings. Anastasio is an entertainer, and mostly focuses on the other person, not himself. He gets the other person to calm down around him with his calm demeanour and charismatic attitude, which almost always opens them up.
Ana is very seductive, but not in a sexual sense. Though attractive, he doesn’t use just his looks to get to know people. Everything from the way he speaks to the smoothness of his walk exudes a charming air, as well as his openness and lack of shyness or hostility. He is suave, smooth-talking, and eager to perform for the individual. This is only increased by his growling Galician accent, which he has somehow never managed to lose. Despite his charm, Ana is a very controlling and manipulative man, with an almost Machiavellian view of life. He is a glutton for power and wealth, and will stop at very little to get them.
However, he isn’t all bad. Though he enjoys the concept of having followers and power, he does have a need to serve someone even higher than himself. He is an extremely loyal individual, capable of regicide, soul-selling, and cheating for the person or idea he upholds. This is shown in the vendetta he held and carried out for his sister’s sake, as well as his unwavering faith to the Friends of Red Anya, an underground sorcery sect he has been a part of since before the Fall of the Riders. He will not do anything that isn’t justified- or at least, not justified to him. Though he doesn’t regret killing King Evandar, he does understand Islanzadí’s grief, and doesn’t resist serving her. He even enjoys upholding such a powerful woman, and is not afraid to show his allegiance for her.
History:
Not all of the elves migrated to Alagaësia all those hundreds of years ago. Some, the Romany elves, headed for warmer areas, resulting in notable darker skin tones and slighter builds than their northern counterparts. However, when Roma was blighted by war, many elves sought safety to the west. They settled in several countries along the western coast, mostly notably Gallia, a wealthy country where elves were unheard of. There, they changed their names, reinvented themselves, and made livings mainly with the help of their magic, such as street performing, fortune telling, and other gimmicks that the wealthy were eager to get their hands on. This was where Cyprian D’artagnan and Nadia Devereux, two Romany performers, met each other. Cyprian was a fortune teller and Nadia a dancer, and they met on the Galician streets one night. Over the following years, they became mates, and decided to have a child.
However, Nadia was blessed with the miracle of not one, but two children. Any elf woman getting pregnant was a rarity, but twins were nearly unheard of. Nadia managed to survive the arduous process of such a heavy pregnancy, and the results were the unfortunately named Anastasio and Anastasia D’artagnan. The twins were born into poverty- despite how entertaining they were, most of Gallia didn’t think of the overly attractive dark-haired magicians as actual people, and so very few Romany achieved any sort of status. However, the two of them were also dearly loved by their parents, and they lived a generally happy life in Gallia throughout their early childhoods.
However, when the two of them were nearly fifty, Gallia was stricken with a series of food shortages and droughts brought on by bad weather. The citizens, looking for a scapegoat that had angered the gods, turned on the Romany. Some tried to stay and make a living despite the sudden increased hostility. Others, like Cyprian and Nadia, decided it was time to move again. They gathered what little coin they had, their children, and headed north to Alagaësia- the cheapest and closest place they could get to. Since this was about a hundred years before Galbatorix took over, and the Riders were maintaining the peace of the land, the family was welcomed with open arms, and offered a place to live in Tallinn, a now-forgotten city located in modern-day Surda. There, Cyprian and Nadia managed to get jobs at a mill.
However, a mere ten years later, a plague struck Tallinn. Citizens went mad and were stricken with mass hysteria, causing them to turn on their own friends and families, believing them to be monsters, and kill them. The disease struck so hard and so fast that the Riders were unable to study it to find a cure, or even a treatment. All they could do was put magical barriers around Tallinn to keep the citizens and the disease from escaping. The force field was in place for a quarter of a year, during which Anastasio and Anastasia’s parents were also infected. Ana and his sister mostly hid in their basement throughout those three months. However, neither of them was infected. Despite being in direct contact with their parents and many other citizens of Tallinn, both of them went untouched by the plague, which left the Riders scratching their heads when the barriers were finally brought down and they came in for inspection. The disease had run its course, but it had killed everyone except for the elf twins.
Assuming that they were some kind of chosen ones, the Riders took them to Ilirea, present-day Urû’baen, for magical schooling. Tallinn, its villagers, and its memory were razed to the ground in case the disease still lingered. In Ilirea, like many other children, Ana and Anya lived in small dormitories and were taught history as well as the ancient language. However, while there, the two of them started noticing things. Swirls of white mist loomed around them, their shadows didn’t copy their movements exactly, and there was always the eerie feeling of being watched. Eventually, about ten years into their schooling, the visions became so prominent that they approached one of the Elders about it. He was only mildly surprised, and directed them to another, smaller dormitory in the school.
Ana and Anya began to learn about sorcery. They were inducted into a smaller sect of magicians and Riders that studied this particular school of the arcane, which was also one of the smallest. Normally, they’d never be inducted so young, but the spirits had taken an interest in them. The moving shadows and white wisps they’d seen were, in fact, several spirits who’d taken to following the two of them around. The reason they’d survived Tallinn’s plague was because of the spirits’ intervention. Ana and Anya were taught to communicate with them on a basic level as well as how to summon them. Eventually, they proved to be quite skilled- skilled enough for Anastasia to get a dragon to hatch for her when she and Ana were around ninety years of age, a male grey named Suha’il. However, though Anastasio preferred to practice his sorcery. Despite his mandatory schooling, he had very little money on hand, and would probably be living in a slum if not for the dormitories. He was eager to gain wealth.
However, this dream was cut short when Anastasia unexpectedly died when Anastasio was a hundred and twenty. King Evandar of Du Weldenvarden was fond of visiting the Riders, but Anastasia was just as fond of mocking the pale perfection of Alagaësia’s elves, and Evandar did not escape her jeering. Eventually, growing tired of her vicious prodding, he challenged her to a magicless duel, which she accepted to. They battled arduously for no less than two hours. Suddenly, Evandar used magic to weaken and indirectly bring down a nearby column that crushed Anastasia. She wasn’t killed instantly, but she was knocked into a sleep so deep and unyielding that her dragon, Suha’il, broke down into a panicked hysteria. In the rain of fireballs and falling rubble that followed, Evandar and the spectators barely managed to escape.
Once Suha’il was caught and taken back to the citadel to be calmed down, the rubble was picked apart to locate Anastasia’s body. However, nothing was found. No burnt corpse, no gory remains, nothing at all. When the Riders tried to scry her, they saw only darkness. Since Suha’il kept switching from deep depression to maniacal terror, it could only be assumed that she was dead. A formal funeral was held days later, the cause of death being decided on as ‘structural instability’. Truthfully, no one had seen Evandar cheat, and Anastasio had only witnessed it thanks to the spirits reacting in the presence of magic. He was shattered by her death. She had been born with him, survived a plague with him, and they’d spent well over a century together. Anastasio desired revenge.
It was difficult. Naturally, the king of the elves would have some impressive security going, and Anastasio knew little about lying and barricading his mind. He started to practice. He’d always been the charismatic sort, but he’d never had any need to lie or to hide his true intentions. And so, Anastasio started to hang around the cream of society. His first attempts were massive failures, it being obvious that he wasn’t from the wealthiest of stock and was just trying to impress those who were. However, with time and with practice, his skill increased. He could get the cruellest ice queen to ease up around him, be considered a brilliant conversationalist just for listening to someone’s problems, and became very adept at reading people. He also worked on his own mental skills, not so much on barriers and probes but instead mainly making up various personal histories for himself and projecting their false images clearly in his mind to fool others. Eventually, after about twenty years of practice, he considered himself good enough to bypass even the elves’ harsh mental guards, especially with the Revenant beside him.
After Anastasia’s death, the spirits didn’t frequent Anastasio quite as often. But one continued to stick beside him so much that it literally became his shadow. Anastasio has never given any spirit a proper name, since they have no given shape or form, but he has taken to calling this one the Revenant, one who returns after death for a purpose. The Revenant was and still is fond of giving Anastasio a helping hand, and it was more than happy to assist him in his plotted assassination of Evandar. The Revenant accompanied Anastasio when he entered King Evandar’s Ilirean palace and offered to serve him. He spun up a tale about having recently emigrated from Gallia, and was eager to learn about the elves in Alagaësia. Evandar noted Anastasio’s similarities both in name and appearance to the Rider he’d killed a mere two decades ago, but Anastasio convinced the king with projected memories of Gallia.
However, Evandar wasn’t easily trusting, and so he didn’t give Anastasio a particularly high position in his court. Besides, in this time of peace, he had little need for a sorcerer, and so he mostly had Anastasio doing research in his many libraries. However, Anastasio was able to track Evandar’s schedule even from this low ranking. Evandar would spend about half the year in Ilirea, with occasional visits around Alagaësia, and the other half in Du Weldenvarden. He was constantly accompanied by his consort Islanzadí and a retinue of guards that would make an entire Urgal tribe flee for their mummies.
However, Ana never really got the chance to make a plan. Soon after he joined Evandar’s court, a young Rider named Galbatorix started stirring up trouble. He was far from the first Rider to be unsatisfied with his lot in life, but the amount of followers he gained and the speed he did it with caused terror and havoc among the elves. They began to fall back to Du Weldenvarden, assuming the Riders would take care of the chaos, and Anastasio followed to keep close tabs on Evandar. But within a matter of months, it grew blaringly obvious that the Riders were unable to exterminate the threat, and so Evandar began amassing his army. Anastasio joined as a spellcaster, and they marched on Ilirea. However, once in the city, Anastasio broke off from the main body and cut around it so that he could reach the front, and hid in a building where he could watch the battle without being seen.
It was massive and bloody, and ended up being suicide for both sides. Those Riders loyal to Galbatorix that didn’t live long enough to become part of the Forsworn as well as non-Rider followers were all killed. However, the elves, too, all fell in this particular battle- except for Evandar. Injured but victorious, he held Galbatorix’s battle standard aloft while Anastasio snuck through the mounds of bodies with a knife. He went undetected thanks to the Revenant, and he snatched Evandar by the hair and clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from doing magic. Then, he slit Evandar’s throat. After letting himself be filled with self-satisfaction, Anastasio headed back home to the Ilirean citadel.
Unbeknownst to Anastasio until much later, Islanzadí had been watching the battle by scrying it, and had witnessed her husband’s murder. Overcome with rage, she herself vowed to make him pay. However, she couldn’t get her claws into him for some time. Anastasio had completed his mission, but that didn’t mean his life was over. He still had the sorcery division of the Riders’ school, and there were people he cared about within it, and he also feared for the survival of their studies. Anastasio had not been blind to outside events while plotting Evandar’s regicide, and Galbatorix’s mass murdering deeply troubled him. He managed to reach the citadel, the last stronghold of the Riders, and locate the fleeing members of the sorcery division. He joined them, and they escaped to the south. They almost fled Alagaësia itself, only stopping at the southern archipelago beside modern-day Surda. Islanzadí was unable to reach Anastasio after that, as the Riders died soon after, Galbatorix took over, and the elves fled to Du Weldenvarden.
Anastasio and the surviving members of his group took on the name of Friends of Red Anya, in Anastasia’s memory. They set up a variety of hideouts along the five islands of the archipelago, and that was where Anastasio spent the next fifty years of his life. Though the Riders were gone, many of the magicians had survived, and they continued their studies untouched by outside influence for many years. And though Anastasio was greatly fond of pursuing sorcery, something nagged at him. He didn’t want to spend his entire life underground, hiding from the outside world. He craved people, and living.
As it turned out, he wasn’t the only Red Anyan to feel that way. Curiosity made them poke their heads out of their hideouts, and Ana was one of the first scouts to explore the new Alagaësia. The Friends of Red Anya had regularly scryed the Empire for the first few years of their exodus, but after seeing only carnage and death again and again, and a blank space where Du Weldenvarden was supposed to be, they’d abandoned the practice. However, they spent the next few years actively exploring Alagaësia in person. The dwarves and elves had been forgotten, the Riders were nonexistent, and magic was rare, above other things. Galbatorix reportedly left his palace once in a blue moon, and most of the actual governing was left to incompetent rich fools. Therefore, it was quite safe for the Friends of Red Anya to set themselves up in the Empire as well as to gain recruits for their tiny sect.
Several locations were set up, and Ana, always the travelling sort, frequented all of them. However, he also wanted to make a place for himself in society. Anastasio had no money, no status, and didn’t exist in the eyes of the world. He wanted to change this, but at the same time was aware that getting too much power too fast would gain unnecessary attention. Besides this, Galbatorix and a good deal of his Forsworn were at full power, and the Red Anyans were in constant danger of being weeded out. And so, Anastasio spent a good part of the next forty years as his sect’s guard dog. His lying and silver tongue came in handy once again as he started an operation of his own- conning.
In several cities across the Empire and Surda, Anastasio set up tiny back street shops, emporiums, any place for people to get their fortunes read, or their destinies changed. Though these places look like normal abandoned buildings, he creates the illusion of an attractive magic shop whenever inviting people in. Anyone posing a threat to the Friends of Red Anya and their location was alerted to Anastasio, and he would approach them and make them fall in love with his smooth-talking confidence and air of mystery, enough to at least make them pay his shop a visit. Anastasio would then trick his victims into making deals with him. He read their past and their present, and then looked into their futures and offered to change it. However, the deals he made would backfire, leaving their reputations decimated, their money gone, or, in severe cases, their souls given to the spirits. Anastasio did this until his chance arrived.
Four years from the present day, the first dragon to hatch in well over a hundred years, Saphira, came to the world’s attention. Galbatorix started losing control soon afterwards. All of his Forsworn were dead and buried, the Varden force became bloated and made their presence obvious by moving to Surda, and the Empire lost the Urgals. Anastasio plotted his move. However, he didn’t want mere wealth. He wanted power, as well. He became a performance man- his magic was displayed to the public, and he wowed hundreds with his powers. The Empire was too busy fighting the Varden and dealing with the infection to notice the increasing prominence of the ‘Shadow Man’, but someone else wasn’t.
Anastasio did away with an elf spy by making her ‘get close to her deceased loved ones’- by burying her alive. However, she managed to escape through the use of magic, and ran all the way back home to report this ‘elf of malicious intents’. The physical description brought back Islanzadí’s memories of her husband’s murderer, and she spent months hell-bent on finding Anastasio. Eventually, she did, and her minions captured him late one night after one of his performances. He was knocked out and taken back to Du Weldenvarden, where Islanzadí personally scanned his mind. He was, indeed, the man who had murdered her husband. But before she called for his execution, she found something else- the Friends of Red Anya, the very reason that she had been able to find him in the first place.
She gleaned the reason for Evandar’s death as well as Anastasio’s unshakeable loyalty, and thought of a better use for him- as her servant for life. Besides recanting for the regicide he’d committed, she liked what he did with those who opposed his sect so much that she requested he do it for her. Islanzadí was cautious of her allies as well as her enemies, and doubted the Varden would hold the elves’ needs above their own. She proposed a deal- he would take out her enemies while she was safe in Du Weldenvarden, and whenever she left, he would serve her as a seneschal and bodyguard. The only other option was death, so Anastasio accepted. Though irritated at these unforeseen consequences, he found he respected the queen’s passion, and so didn’t take his new post with a grim unwillingness. Instead, he considered it a window of opportunity. Anastasio has since served Islanzadí as well as the Red Anyans.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
None. =( He's totally new and therefore undeveloped. All I really have so far is that at some point, I want to bring his sister into the picture. However, this won't be for some time, as I want to play around and get to know his character a bit before I plunge him into that sort of situation. Also, I have NO idea what Anastasia will be like besides just plain crazy from her dragon's death. I'm so original. XD So, basically, I'm just looking for casual threads with this guy, preferably in human cities.
Threads:
One Silver Dollar; in Ellesméra with Islanzadí (Zkjt). Active! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on May 24, 2010 15:14:34 GMT -5
Name:
Anck Seh Namun
Age:
Twenty-five
Race:
Human
Play-By:
Elizabeth Mathis
Colour Code:
Pink (FFC0CB)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Caribbean; of Egyptian descent
Accent:
Slight Brooklyn that only becomes very apparent when she's pissed. x3
Occupation:
Servant; con woman
Allegiance:
Herself
Appearance:
Anck doesn’t stick out too much. Though pretty enough to warrant a second glance, she is no staggering doll-like beauty. What makes her attractive is mostly the way she dresses and holds herself rather than just her face- she is tall and slender, and wears flowing outfits that accentuate her every move as well as bright colours to set off her dark skin. Besides that, her confidence and proud bearing give off the sense that she is a woman of high birth- perfect bait for any schemer, smuggler or nobleman.
Anck’s homeland is a collection of islands to the west known as the West Antilles. Though the people there share their roots with the Nomads of Alagaësia, and therefore are physically very similar to them, the Antilles folk intermarried with people of other races, and now share some differing features that Anck possesses. She has the notable deep chocolate skin colour, but otherwise is slighter than the Nomads- she isn’t as tall as most of their women at 5’8”, her chest and hips are much less exaggerated, attuning to her slender frame, and her facial features are smaller. She has a heart-shaped, deceptively sweet face and square jaw, high cheekbones, pouted lips, a wide nose, and an arched forehead. Her eyes are almond-shaped and deep brown in hue, framed by small eyelashes and thin, arched eyebrows. Her hair is straight, and is also very dark, hanging past her waist. Anck usually keeps it up in a high ponytail.
As stated above, Anck, despite not being one, dresses nearly as well as a woman of Galbatorix’s high court, seeing as their outfits and accessories are easily looted from the desiccated corpses that Castox leaves behind. Anck always wears dresses and skirts, usually of light, flowing materials in bright colours. In winter, she still wears lighter clothing, although covers them up with thick dyed cloaks. The cuts of Anck’s tops vary widely, sometimes showing her arms, neck, shoulders, or a combination of the three, but she strictly never wears form-fitting outfits or shows her legs and cleavage.
Anck sticks to the bare minimums with makeup, using nude skin shades as opposed to the blaringly arresting colours that most women prefer. Oil for her eyelashes, colourless moisturizing gloss for her lips, black kohl to outline her eyes, and creamy pigments to even out her skin tone are her daily maximum. She only wears more for special occasions. Anck’s scent is also subtle, usually lavender or another faint-smelling incense. Jewellery-wise, she is never seen without a silver brooch tight around her throat, set with a ruby that was once cherry red, but turned black after being tainted with Shade magic. This is a sort of tracking device that Castox uses to make sure Anck doesn’t run off on him. Besides this, Anck wears bangles and earrings that match her outfits accordingly. Her only piercings are in the lobes of her ears, and she has no tattoos. However, Anck has one small physical deformity- she has six fingers on her right hand, in the form of an extra index finger. It often causes her to be branded as a witch.
Personality:
Anck Seh Namun is a thief, a liar, and a cheat. Her greatest talent is her acting, which can be used to pull any and all underhanded tricks. This is more than handy while on the run with a rogue Shade. Thanks to training both in the theatre and a high-class academy, she nicely pulls off her consistent disguise of a well-to-do Imperial lady. Whether it’s bantering with nobles, sitting pretty in the wilderness for some fatally careless robbers to attack, or shrieking for an unintelligent hero to ‘rescue’ her from Castox, Anck can do it all. Besides faking, she has other less-than-attractive attributes- she has no weapons training at all, so she often resorts to kicking where it hurts or fleeing in fights.
When she isn’t playing the actress, Anck’s personality is less than friendly. Smug, self-certain, and condescending at the best of times, she isn’t the type to look for friendship. Concerned only with her quest, Anck doesn’t concern herself with having lovers or companions, partly because Tox would end up eating them and also because they would only slow her down. Anck is an intellectual as well, and if she weren’t playing the defenceless noblewoman all the time, she might even be bookish.
The only truly good thing that can be said about Anck is that she doesn’t manipulate for the fun of it. She is concerned with nothing but her survival. The people whose toes she steps on, or more often, get eaten by Castox, are considered necessary losses by her. She is bound and determined to make things the way they used to be, and for that, she needs to stay alive. All her cheating is done in the interest of bringing her mother back to life and finding a way to shake off her unwanted Shade.
History:
Anck was born in the West Antilles, a collection of tropical islands to the far southwest of Alagaësia. Ruled by the Saxon Empire, many Antillese natives were in their employ. Anck’s mother Tesheger Namun was one of those people. She took a job as translator on one of the many Saxon ships travelling throughout the islands. A victim of wanderlust, Tesheger spent many years traversing the seas. That stopped, however, when she took a job aboard a privateer vessel owned by the amorous Osiris Ramsey. By the time Tesheger switched ships again, she found herself pregnant. Fearing for the well-being of her unborn child, she immediately quit her seafaring and returned home to the Antilles. There, she flirted and played her way into the arms of Bevis Slone, a high-end Saxon merchant. Tesheger managed to bed him in time to make the child seem his, and married him a month later. Soon, Anxe Slone was born.
Anck was born into money, and therefore safety. Tesheger was relieved at this, but found herself longing for the sea. She wasn’t made for the sheltered life of a rich woman. However, she managed to find herself a suitable compromise- an acting troupe. Playing out adventures onstage was almost as good as the real thing. Bevis dismissed it as a phase, but began to grow irritable when Tesheger started taking her three-year-old daughter along. Again, she managed to placate him, this time by giving birth to Anck’s half-brother, an heir to the Slone estate. Tesheger named him Osiris, after Anck’s father.
Anck soon joined her mother on stage, and together they raked in enough money to keep Bevis happy with their tomfoolery. However, it only lasted a few years. Tesheger was killed in a random mugging late one night when Anck was ten years old. Confused and shaken by her sudden death, Anck became extremely tempaeramental. Slone, tired of her behaviour, promptly sent her away to a finishing school before Tesheger had been dead for even a year. Keble Academy was located on the Saxon Empire’s mainland. A prestigious finishing school for upper-class girls, Anck was taught everything about being a noblewoman from math and literacy to sitting straight on her chamber pot. She resented the training with a passion, but eventually gave in. She longed to be with her mother.
At age fifteen, Anck was taken on trips to nobles’ manors and the king’s palace. It was in the manor of Duke Venali, one of the most prestigious members of the king’s court, that Anck found a way out. While walking through the estate, she heard an explosion. She rushed into the room she’d heard it coming from, and was horrified to find a Shade standing in front of a destroyed door. The moment he saw her, he snatched her up and escaped the manor, using her as a human shield. Once they had made their way into the woods, he dropped her, and raised his hand to kill her. Anck hurriedly begged the Shade to strike a deal with her. He needed to get out of the Saxon Empire. She would help, and even serve him, under two conditions- one, that he wouldn’t kill her, and two, that he would bring her mother back to life. After some consideration, the Shade agreed.
Anck and the Shade, named Castox, fled back to the Antilles with the Saxon law right behind them. In the dead of night, they managed to find Tesheger’s grave. Castox cast the required spell. And for a moment, it seemed to work- Tesheger’s bones regained their skin and flesh, so much that she looked exactly like she used to. She even stood up, but immediately fell over. Tesheger was indeed alive, but her spirit hadn’t returned to her body. She was a soulless doll. Angrily, Anck demanded Castox find her spirit, but he simply shrugged. Her spirit had been reincarnated. Besides that, he had upheld his end of the bargain. Tesheger had been brought back to life. Anck belonged to him. A grievous Anck laid her mother back in her grave and let her rest in peace.
However, she was still irrevocably attached to Castox. The Shade fled the Antilles with Anck right behind him. She changed her name to her mother’s- Anck Seh Namun. They travelled through many countries, eventually working their way north to another Empire when Anck was twenty-four. It was here, finally, that Castox stopped running. Alagaësia was a magical land, as compared to other places like the Saxon Empire where it was banned. He and Anck were able to hide themselves here better than anywhere else. They spent several months learning the land’s ways and culture, as well as the common tongue- Castox, having experience with other languages, learned it fluently, but Anck still has a notable Antillese accent. Since then, they have spent their days in hiding.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Anck's mother Tesheger is a lifeless doll, and currently the only thing Anck holds dear (as well as Tox, although to a lesser extent), so it might be interesting to bring her into the picture at some point later on. Currently, I'd like her to be forced to socialize and make real friends, something she's never had to or wanted to do before. Especially if she tries to get the person eaten first. XD
Threads:
Caught a Breeze; in the Grassy Plains with Castox (Emma), Nyk (Nyk), Turin (Nayeli), Don, Ava, Kite and Selene (all Don). Inactive. =(
A Greeting Most Foul; in the Grassy Plains with Castox (Emma) and Kayla (Kayla). Also inactive.
Twisted Nerve; in Dras-Leona with Castox (Emma), Taraak (Angmor), and Schrren (Zkjt). Happily active! 
Name:
Castox
Age:
270
Race:
Wraith Shade. SHADE. Used to be an elf.
Play-By:
James Lafazanos
Colour Code:
Pale Green (98FB98)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Australian; of Greek descent
Accent:
None, although his Saxon (Aussie) accent sometimes slips through XD
Occupation:
Fugitive
Allegiance:
Himself
Appearance:
Tox doesn’t look like other Shades. Since his transformation was different, his body reacted differently, and several tweaks were made by his mother for purely aesthetic reasons. His hair is completely white from the trauma of the change, and is worn long, hanging just past his shoulders. Anck is fond of styling it, usually sticking little braids inside or rearranging it. Tox himself doesn’t do much with it except put it up into a ponytail when rigorous activity seems inevitable. His eyes are yellow, and the pupils are vertical slits, making him look disturbingly catlike. They only widen when it’s very dark. Tox’s skin, as well, is pale green as opposed to the bone-white pallor of most Shades. His teeth have been filed into points, and his nails are claws. His spine is ridged and sticks out of his skin. Almost dinosaur-like, it is black in colour.
Tox’s last difference is on the palm of his right hand. An oval organ lies on it, similar in appearance to a sucker, and it is about the size of a lemon. This organ is how Castox feeds. He places it on the chest of his victim, where the tendrils inject toxins into their body, used for paralyzing the victim. Then, Tox sucks out their life force, literally making them age rapidly until nothing remains but a desiccated corpse. Unlike other Shades, Tox needs to feed in this manner to sustain himself. Conventional food will give him a moment’s pleasure, but does not sate him. This is because Castox’s spirits are dormant. Since spirits are what give Shades their power, longevity, and other things, Tox needs another way to acquire these things, and so his mother implanted this method. He retains his strength and youth from feeding on anything capable of free thinking, although he usually eats humans since they are the most plentiful and the easiest to take down.
Though that is where the obvious differences end, Tox does have less noticeable ones. For one, he is very tall at 6’4”, and being on the run 24/7 has given him a toned, well-defined slim musculature along his entire body. Since he has a thin frame, however, it’s easy to see him as meek at first glance, especially with the clothes he wears. Tox almost has a goth appearance, both with his paleness and the fact that he very strictly dresses in the colour black. His attire is always elegant and form-fitting, moving smoothly with him. Tox’s body is also laced with black ink tattoos that are all points and swirls. They litter his left arm, chest, back, right leg, and even over his left eye. However, since Tox is usually fully dressed, only the eye tattoo is clearly visible.
Tox’s facial features are odd, but handsome in an unconventional way. He has very pronounced bone structure and sharp features- a wide forehead, square jaw, tall chin, triangular nose, sunken eyes, drawn lips and high cheekbones. His eyebrows are very pale, and even his eyelashes, though long and full, are pure white. Tox is also hard-pressed to shave, and so his chin is usually brushed with a small beard that is snow-white like the rest of his hair.
Naturally, Tox can’t go into civilization looking the way does, unless he wants a pack of soldiers crawling all over him. Usually, he’s lazy and simply casts an illusion easily undetectable by normal humans, but when the situation truly calls for it he magically alters his features. Though his eyes and hair remain the same, his skin becomes a normal pallor- lightly tanned, and his facial features are less prominent. However, this can easily lead to a huge amount of confusion as to what race he is- his features, height, hair and movements are very elf-like, but his eyes and teeth are feral.
Personality:
Castox is under the impression that he is the most terrifying creature to ever walk the earth. In this, he is sorely mistaken. Though his appearance can be frightening, the best Tox can pull of is ‘creepy’. He is the very definition of ‘creepy’. He often speaks and behaves in a way reminiscent of a sleazy Hollywood agent, fast-talking his way out of most situations. Greedy and self-centered, he has a considerable ego, believing himself to be not only the most terrifying, but also the best-looking, the smartest, and the strongest person in the world. He holds himself above all humanoids, even other Shades.
Tox is bright enough, and isn’t particularly ignorant, having been schooled extensively, but his overconfidence usually leads to his downfall. Arrogant and egotistical, this flaw easily makes him fail at everything from spotting hidden enemies to flirting with ladies to even simple things, like climbing branches simply not stable enough to take his weight. He also has a furious temper that he usually shows by making everything and anything explode into flames around him, a homage to the violent and destructive nature of Shades. Another flaw of his is socializing- Tox was very shy as a child, and even today he doesn’t exactly make a huge effort to have a big circle of friends. Besides the uncomfortable air he gives off and his smooth-talking manner, Tox is very cynical as well as perverted, and his ego and spoiled nature make him very little fun to be around.
Tox sees every single humanoid as cattle. They’re simply there to keep him going strong while he plots his return to the Saxon Empire. He is eager to return to his homeland, but in the interest of keeping his deranged mother off his back, he wants to bring his own personal army with him. So far, Tox hasn’t had the chance nor the means to make more creatures like himself. He is convinced that the ‘means’ is finding himself a lady to have his children like his mother did, but so far, he has had no luck whatsoever. For now, he’s comfortable with finding a way to get rid of the spirits lying dormant inside of him.
History:
Tox was not born in Alagaësia. His homeland, far to the southwest, is the Saxon Empire. Though he himself was born amongst the spoiled nobility, the lower-classes, forced to fight the Saxon Empire’s many wars, lived in a state of constant fear and oppression. Tox’s mother, Mercy Lazue, was one of these people. Born into servitude, she worked as a maid in the castle of the Saxon Empire’s duke, Othello Venali. Tormented and forced upon her entire life, she developed a raw hatred for humanity. However, she realized she had one weapon against it- a talent for magic. Magic was banned and punishable by execution in the Saxon Empire, but she honed her craft in secret. Eventually, she became skilled enough to completely reinvent herself. She called the many tortured spirits in the Empire towards her, and became a Shade. Then, she devised an illusion to make her appear like a noblewoman, and made her way into Duke Venali’s court.
He was enchanted by her. Mercy began to seduce him, plotting to marry him for two reasons. The first was revenge for his oppression. The second was that she planned to have magically trained children, and for that, she wanted them to be born into safety and wealth. With her magic, she convinced him into divorcing his then-wife Lexia Venali, and married him. Then, Mercy set about making his heirs. Within twenty years, she had seven children; four boys and three girls- Sammael, Rusalka, Sekarr, Veela, Castox, Laioni and Nazara. All seven children were born as normal humans, as Mercy hadn’t allowed how them to be possessed by her spirits. Tox was the third-born son, and therefore was the ‘spare’ should something happen to his older brothers Sammael and Sekarr.
Mercy allowed her children to grow through childhood normally. All of them were taught extensively in mathematics, literature, and other languages. Castox, who would probably end up as some army commander, wasn’t paid as much attention to as his older brothers Sekarr and especially Sammael. Though he learned diplomacy and combat, Tox was very shy as a child, which didn’t give his father a lot of hope for his future. Mostly resigned to being picked on by other children, Tox remained the least popular member of his family.
Castox lurked deep in unhappiness until he was thirteen. Going into puberty meant he was physically ready to begin magical training. Mercy leaped onto this new advantage. She cast a spell on Tox forbidding him from speaking to anyone but his family about his studies, and then set him to work. He was told by his mother that all noble children learned magic throughout their adolescence, that it separated them from peasant stock. Believing his mother, Castox worked diligently, as did all of his siblings when they came of age. For every single day for eight years, and under the guidance of his mother, Tox studied every kind of spell from simple fireballs to complicated structural weaves.
Finally, when he was twenty-one, Mercy decided he was ready. At this point, she revealed to him that she was a Shade and her plans. Her entire family would become Shades, strictly controlled by her, and she would make a new breed of human. Stronger, faster, and smarter, but she would need spirits and magic to do it. With them, she would overthrow the monarchy and gain revenge on the humans that had spited her youth. Tox, horrified, refused her demands, but Mercy summoned the spirits to take him.
Becoming a Shade was rigorously painful for Castox. Since he rejected them, they attacked his body, holding him prisoner for several long and excruciating days. Mercy watched over him the entire time, magically making changes to his body and controlling the inflow of spirits. Fundamentally, Tox would remain himself. The spirits would lie dormant, continuing to change his body at Mercy’s bidding. But physically, he was changed. After nearly a week of being tormented by spirits, he was complete.
As Tox recovered, his father Othello became suspicious of his wife. All of his oldest children kept going on ‘diplomatic missions to faraway countries’ and returning very rarely. Mercy decided that her husband was no longer of any use to her. She possessed his mind and tormented him with painful illusions and nightmares. He went mad, and it wasn’t long before he attempted to drive out the illusions by drilling into his own skull. Satisfied, the newly widowed Mercy got control of his lands and his power, and set about marrying another man- Azrael Djinnai, a foreigner who was Mercy’s lover and also happened to be a skilled magician. He soon became a part of the Shade family.
Tox eventually learned to adjust to his new self. Besides his enormous physical changes, although he could easily disguise himself as a human, he now had to feed on his old kind for sustenance. Conventional food no longer sated his needs. Besides that, Mercy had him working on her projects day and night as well as balancing his royal duty. When he misbehaved, he was punished by being locked away in darkness. For well over two hundred years, Castox served his mother. But one day, he found a way out. Nobles from all over the Empire visited the Duchess’s castle, and one of them happened to wander off on her own. The slender, attractive young girl in question caught his interest.
Tox burst out of his chamber and snatched the girl into his arms, making off with her. He used her as a human shield the entire time he made his flight, eventually making it into the woods beyond. There, he deposited her onto the ground and prepared to feed. However, she stopped him, proposing a deal. He needed to get out of the Saxon Empire. He’d never be able to do that on his own, since he had few social skills. The girl promised to help him as well as become his servant on two conditions- the first being if he promised not to kill her, and the second being a resurrection of her mother. Figuring it was a good deal, Castox accepted, and they fled from the mainland and headed south. Interestingly, Mercy made no attempts to pursue her runaway son.
The girl, Anck Seh Namun, was from a collection of islands known as the Antilles. There, she located her mother’s gravesite. Tox, using magic his own mother had taught him, summoned the dead woman’s spirit and poured life into her body. And he succeeded- the body was reanimated, but the soul, he found, had already been reborn into another body, leaving Anck’s mother a soulless doll. Anck decided to let her mother rest in peace, and Tox obliged. However, he had still kept his end of the bargain. Anck was his. So, he dragged her off, and they made their escape into the open world.
They travelled for nearly ten years. Few places were accepting of magic, let alone Shades, and so the two of them were on the run more often than not. It wasn’t until they finally reached Alagaësia that Tox decided he was safe. Being a land built on magic, he wouldn’t be nearly as much as an outcast as in other countries. He and Anck spent most of their time in the wilderness while they learned about the Imperial conflict as well as Alagaësia’s norms. They have since lurked in the forests, away from prying eyes.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
As you can see, Tox has six living siblings and one power-crazy mother alive. I'm playing Laioni, I'd really like to bring Veela and Rusalka in, and Nazara is an NPC. Sammael and Sekarr are still too underdeveloped to do anything with. As for his mother, Mercy, she's way too powerful for me to use and so is in hiding in the Spine. But that still leaves four siblings to play around with, as well as Anck, who Tox lusts after. Woo! But since that would just have me roleplaying with myself, it would be fun if other people's characters happened to know Tox and one or more of his siblings without them actually meeting up... or something. It might make an interesting plot. XD
Threads:
The Rebel Leader; in Aberon as the NPC ‘Wraith’ with Remy (Emma), Ava (Don), Nasuada (Renea), Tasalae (Renea), Tasia (Renea), and Kano (Kano). Inactive. =(
Caught a Breeze; in the Grassy Plains with Anck (Emma), Nyk (Nyk), Turin (Nayeli), Don, Ava, Kite and Selene (all Don). Inactive. =(
A Greeting Most Foul; in the Grassy Plains with Anck (Emma) and Kayla (Kayla). Also inactive.
Twisted Nerve; in Dras-Leona with Anck (Emma), Taraak (Angmor), and Schrren (Zkjt). Happily active! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on May 28, 2010 20:15:32 GMT -5
Name:
Cesar Insalata
Age:
One hundred twenty-two
Race:
Half elf, half human
Play-By:
Alex Pettyfer, but I'd like to change it to Mat Gordon. I'm just waiting to make sure that Tiilyr's gone for good before I steal his beautiful face claim. XD
Colour Code:
Firebrick Red (B22222)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Hispanic (Spain)
Accent:
Iberian (Spanish)
Occupation:
Saboteur and pyrotechnics expert
Allegiance:
The Empire
Appearance:
Cesar, being only half elf, didn’t inherit all of their characteristics. Physically, he’s very human in appearance, even lacking the famed pointed ears. As opposed to the tall, regal, spindly things that most people conjure up in their heads, Cesar is much smaller and of a much stockier build. Since he spent most of his childhood cramped up amid dozens of other children and starving, his height is an unimpressive 5’7”, although he makes up for it with muscle. Though not massive, he does have a generous build-up of abs that most elves would be unable to achieve. His skin is also much darker than the Fair Folk, being a dark golden pallor from his father’s Iberian side of the family.
However, Cesar’s face still retains a good degree of the femininity that elves are so well-known for, most notably his arched forehead and long face, as well as their more exotic features such as his high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. He has a square jaw, full lips, a short, beardless chin, and a small nose. His eyes are steel-grey and framed by long lashes and thin light eyebrows, and his hair is medium blonde and hangs to his shoulders. Cesar is very particular about his hair and usually slicks it back and has it in a ponytail. The only thing marring Cesar’s face is a small snake tattoo branded on his left cheek, a symbol of murder and of his exile from Iberia. The tattoo is very simple, done in black ink and showing the snake slithering downwards.
Cesar wears whatever’s casual in the places he goes to. If it’s Galbatorix’s royal court, he dons the finest silks and robes he can get his hands on, if he’s blending into a crowd of peasants, he’ll wear rags, and everything in between. Cesar finds his race rather handy since it’s an easy way to get attention besides the fact that elves are generally more attractive than humans, and so never hides his elven blood. As for weapons, Cesar was never the type for engaging his targets in combat- in fact, hand-to-hand fighting is his weakness. He lacks the necessary speed for parrying and dodging blows, and so the only conventional weapon he can be found with is a stiletto or two. His training mostly lay in fire and seduction, so those are usually the two means he uses to dispatch his targets.
Personality:
Cesar’s personality is unorthodox to say the least. He does, of course, have those tendencies that all secret warriors are trained in- indifference to murder, unending loyalty, a high sense of self-preservation- but he isn’t the cold-hearted demon most people would expect from his type. On the contrary, he is unendingly charming and cheery, always energetic and preferring to look on the bright side of things. In fact, his happiness can often inspire those with ADD. Cesar is also highly obsessive about fire- it’s boisterous and volatile, just like him, and he will spend hours gawking at a burning building while inside it, playing with bombs while blindfolded, or other such things.
An important part of Cesar’s personality is his complete comfort with sex. It might have something to do with his early years spent in a whorehouse, where all things sexual were the norm, and his training in seduction, but his constant bringing up of it in conversation is usually seen as awkward and shocking. He can make any object a euphemism, and his mind often reverts to thought of love-making. As for falling in love, that is where Cesar draws the line. All his life, he has known nothing but pleasure and violence. He considers himself to have led a good life, and will grab pleasure wherever he finds it, and believes that expecting anything else is wrong and reckless. Love, to him, is a mere illusion that people fool themselves with, leaving him with no desire to chase after it himself.
Cesar doesn’t feel connected with other elves or other humans. Only his mother came from Du Weldenvarden, and he was born in the Empire, so he doesn’t feel any particular tie to his Iberian homeland, or any real reason to have one. Du Weldenvarden had little to offer him on his one-time visit there; whereas Galbatorix offers him anything he could want- wine, gold, and women. He also finds the passionate nature of humans far more interesting than the stolidity of the elves, as well as the fact that they’re easier to seduce. He also isn’t too convinced that the Varden actually stands a chance of defeating the Empire, so he has no interest in taking his business over to their side. Cesar is very at peace with the fact that he is half-elf, not seeing himself as an abomination but as something unique and important. He has the intelligence and speed of an elf and the passion and will of a human, and the looks of both of them to boot, and so he prides himself on his mixed nature, although others often do not.
When with people, Cesar is anything but reclusive. He’s eager, friendly, and very humorous, and doesn’t fear rolling with the punches even if they’re specifically directed at him. He also has no problem with talking about anything at all, which usually leaves people more confused and disturbed than charmed. When it comes to the nature of being a saboteur, Cesar doesn’t see it as anything immoral or disgusting. It’s simply something he grew up with. The pay is good, it gets him fear and respect, and he’s a lot better off than the average Alagaësian. As for killing, Cesar gets a good feeling out of it. It’s nothing sexual; he just feels very empowered when controlling someone’s life. He doesn’t fear dying since it’s so familiar.
History:
Cesar’s parents were ages different from one another. His mother, Ysabel Ajja, was a naïve young elf maiden from Osilon who constantly dreamed of being swept off her feet by some overly handsome stranger. And by chance, one day she got him. Methen Insalata, meanwhile, was a shady individual with a penchant for deceit. He was a human from across the southern sea, hailing from a country called Iberia. He came north to Du Weldenvarden for trading, mostly specializing in drugs that only grew in Du Weldenvarden, and when he left Ysabel came tottering right after him. She followed him into Alagaësia proper, which by then was still ruled over by the Riders, and was his arm-candy for about a year, which was when Cesar was born. However, eventually Methen and his illegal business were prodded at by the Riders, and he had to pack up and leave. The overly faithful Ysabel followed him when he sailed back to Iberia. Unfortunately, the law caught up with him, and he was executed, leaving Ysabel stranded in a strange country with a newborn infant. On top of that, Methen had his gambling debts.
Ysabel joined a local brothel specializing in elves, the Pearl, which was where Cesar was raised in his early years. Bar the lack of food, it was decent enough, and Cesar spent most of his time listening to Ysabel’s forlorn tales about Du Weldenvarden. However, she eventually died giving birth to Cesar’s half-brother when he was in his early thirties. Seeing that Ysabel had been the one paying for Cesar’s boarding, he was on his way to being kicked out into the street, but the mistress noticed that Cesar had a remarkably strong frame despite the fact that he was starving, and found a better use for him.
Iberia was corrupt in the extreme, almost entirely ruled by an infamous guild of assassins and saboteurs known as the Iberian Hawks. They had effectively kept all the noble Houses at war with one another. The brothel mistress sold Cesar to the guild, and despite the fact that he was scrawny and didn’t know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end he was accepted, and began training. He was placed in a tiny apartment with thirty other initiates, which he made his home for twenty years running. Cesar didn’t have the strength for heavier weapons like longswords and hammers, so he was mostly trained in knife-work and pyrotechnics. He was also only of average ability when it came to magic, so he received little training in that. When he was in his fifties, he trained in more subtle things like poison, stealth, and seduction. He underwent dangerous operations from the very beginning, as well as constant tests of survival and skill, and by the end of the twenty-year training regime only he and two other initiates were alive. Cesar was made a junior Hawk, and from then on was ordered to do missions for his guild.
However, when he was in his late seventies, Cesar was sent to destroy an entire House. Aiding him was a young bride-to-be called Zahra, who would help him get into the manor. On the way there, despite his furious attempts to shut out his emotions, Cesar became very smitten with Zahra. By the time they arrived at the manor, however, and he began the slaughter, armed soldiers popped out of nowhere and arrested Cesar. Zahra was left alone. Cesar was dragged to prison and branded with the Iberian symbol of treachery, a black snake, and then kicked out into the street. The Iberian Hawks carried a ‘do-or-die’ rule, and the price for failing a mission was death, so it was assumed he would die soon. Determined to see his mission through, Cesar stalked back to the lonely manor in the countryside, but first he made a detour and murdered Zahra in her home despite her pleas of innocence. He then went back to the manor and slaughtered the family and their guards, and went back to the Hawks’ base in a dark mood.
But upon getting there, Cesar was congratulated and made a senior Hawk. The entire mission had been a ruse for proving his loyalty. Zahra had been innocent. Heartbroken and disgusted, Cesar took a very well-paying contract for the farthest target possible- one King Galbatorix in some Empire to the north- and headed there, planning on destroying this one last target so the Hawks wouldn’t follow, and then disappearing. However, Galbatorix was a lot more than just a king, as Cesar found out when he landed in Teirm several months later. A century-old human and something called a Dragon Rider no less, Cesar wondered just how motivated he was to finish the mission. Instead, he turned his sights on Du Weldenvarden. Alagaësia had changed since his mother had been there last, but the elves were still rumoured to exist, and the northern forest was his best bet.
It, of course, didn’t live up to the fantasies he had constructed as a boy, listening to his mother’s tales. Elves were starkly stoic and closed things, and he was viewed with suspicion for being an outsider, especially since he was only half elf. Disappointed, Cesar left in a matter of months, determined that killing Galbatorix had to be easier than staying in Du Weldenvarden. He went to Urû’baen and snuck into the palace late at night, but magical wards and Shruikan easily stopped him from carrying out his mission. Cesar was dragged to Galbatorix’s throne room and deposited in front of him, where Galbatorix promptly went through his mind. However, he seemed to realize that Cesar held no personal vendetta against him, considering he hadn’t even heard of the man until a few months ago, and was willing to escape a faraway past. Besides that, he wasn’t a big fan of the Alagaësian elves. Galbatorix offered him an ultimatum- Cesar would serve him as a saboteur, and his life would be spared. Cesar liked living, so he agreed. He was subsequently placed in the Tribunal, a fifty-man-strong squad that dealt mostly with ratting out and sabotaging the Varden. Cesar has served as an Imperial saboteur since.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Nothing, really, other than him blowing up buildings and scaring women and children. XD You may shoot me for this, because EVERYONE does it, but eventually I want him to turn over to the Varden side. Character development-wise, I want him to learn a bit about love, and maybe end up facing some very dangerous aspects of being half-elf- suppressed urges, clashing emotions, etc. that will end with him joining the Varden. I’d actually like to do this really soon, so if you’re interested, PM me!
Threads:
Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of characters. Closed and finished. |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on May 28, 2010 21:06:47 GMT -5
Name:
Euryale (yoo-ree-ah-lay) Gorgophone
Age:
One hundred twenty
Race:
Elf
Play-By:
Karen Gillan
Colour Code:
White (FFFFFF)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Scottish
Accent:
Scottish =D
Occupation:
Elven ambassador and future Councillor; stationed in Aberon
Allegiance:
Du Weldenvarden
NPCs:
No person of high rank is without at least a few people in their employ, so hopefully Angmor and Elvorn will forgive me for taking this little liberty. XD Euryale currently has four NPCs that I will regularly be using- her three nursemaids Klotho, Lakhesis, and Aisa, as well as her father. All four are elves, and all four were severely affected by the Fall of the Riders.
Cælestis Gorgophone- The First Librarian, the overseer of all texts and histories in elven culture, as well as an Elder Councillor on his way out due to his advanced age and recent illness, he was the mate and madly in love with Mehra Moghedien, a Rider and Euryale's mother who lost both her and her dragon Semirhage's life in the Fall. Her death, keeping Euryale a secret for over a hundred years, his age, and nearly dying have made him a little crazy. Despite senility, however, he has managed to cling to his enviable position with the help of his adopted daughters, and plans on giving it to Euryale when he passes away. Cælestis has stark white hair whereas it used to be blonde, ancient blue-grey eyes and a definitive oldness about him, even though, being an elf, he has very few wrinkles.
Klotho Gorgophone- The wisest of Euryale's nursemaids, Klotho was once as beautiful as any elf, but was hideously scarred while fighting during the Fall. However, instead of becoming cold and unfeeling or going crazy, she came to accept her appearance, as it allowed her to focus on less frivolous things than simple beauty. However, her appearance was rejected by her fellow elves, which grieved her, and she went to hide in the libraries, where Cælestis found her and took her in out of pity. In return, she is very focussed on making Euryale wise and powerful. Lakhesis is tall and thin with short brown hair and icy blue eyes.
Lakhesis Gorgophone- An ex-Rider, Lakhesis, like Oromis, lost the ability to do powerful magic, and lost her senses as well. The brawniest of the nursemaids, she makes up for her furious temper and obsessiveness with raw strength. Lakhesis is frighteningly strong, even for an elf, mostly because she spends every hour of every day working out to the brink of exhaustion. Cælestis was the only one who could calm her after her dragon Oluchi was killed, and she was subsequently adopted into his little family. She is violently protective of Euryale, and disapproves of her fellow nurses. Lakhesis is tall, with very defined muscles and long fiery red hair. She lost her left eye when Oluchi was killed, and covers it with an eye patch. Her other eye is pale and glassy blue in colour.
Aisa Gorgophone- During the political upheaval that rocked Du Weldenvarden immediately after the Fall of the Riders, young, impressionable Aisa, hailing from a wealthy family, was used and abused horrifically for the gain of others. Much of this abuse was sexual, which somehow turned Aisa into a promiscuous temptress as revenge against the opposite sex. When this revenge began bordering on getting exiled from Du Weldenvarden, Aisa, a distant relative of Cælestis, went to him for help, and he was very happy to take her in. Aisa seems to care the least about Euryale, being very vain and focussed on her own desires, but does take the time to make Euryale as attractive as possible. Aisa is remarkably beautiful, even for an elf, petite and slender, with long pale blonde hair and mischeviously glimmering blue eyes.
Appearance:
Euryale, when it comes to pure natural looks, is indistinguishable from other elf women. With a slight body, light colouring and attractive features, she wouldn’t be any different from any of her kin if not for her bearing. Euryale, unless entirely alone and surrounded by books, is usually found gnawing her nails, chomping her bottom lip and generally looking nauseous. Her skin, already very light and nearly pink from how rarely she goes out into the sun, usually has some kind of sickly pallor, and her elegant almond-shaped eyes are usually wide with terror. Therefore, her elven beauty is usually downplayed to only pretty enough to get a second glance, and those glances are usually confused ones.
Were Euryale not prone to spasms and panicked hysteria, she would be very attractive. Living by candlelight for over a hundred years and her biggest worry being how a book would end until very recently, her face is remarkably youthful, even failing to sport the prominent lines and bone structure of most of her race. She has low cheekbones, a cute nose, large, enormous deep brown eyes framed by thick lashes and straight copper eyebrows, small but full lips, a small forehead, and a tiny jaw and chin. Euryale’s porcelain face is framed by thick, wavy hair that hangs to her upper back. The exact colour is copper, which can look either fire-engine red or completely orange, depending on the lighting. Her body is similar to a column, slim but not quite skinny with average-sized breasts and hips and slight curves. She is 5'11", average for an elf but an awkward height for her since she strongly prefers not to stick out.
The concept of makeup and fashion is very new to Euryale, since up until a few months ago all she really wore were nightgowns and the occasional warrior princess get-up as a small child when acting out her favourite stories. She mostly relies on her three maids as her personal stylists, but since they have such conflicting tastes she’s often forced to change her outfits several times a day. Euryale could be waltzing around in a cotton candy pink ball gown one minute and then ordered into a regal black slip the next, and then into a summery violet dress that shows off her legs mere moments later. Her makeup can either be fresh and unnoticeable or bright and overly attention-grabbing. Whatever she wears, Euryale is always dressed like the wealthiest princess, even if she doesn’t behave like one.
Personality:
Most people picture elves as stoic, wise, and mysterious. Euryale could not conform to this stereotype any less. Having spent her entire life among the same four people and in the one same building, she’s nonplussed by suddenly being thrust into the real world. Patronizing elves, curious, prodding humans and a swarm of administrative duties has worn down her nerves almost to the point of breaking. Though not driven to insanity just yet, she does snap more often than not and explode into spasmodic shrieking and wailing about the smallest nuisances. She is panicked, hyperactive, and chronically nervous, and usually the only thing that can convince her to relax is locking herself in her room with enough books to fill several libraries and being totally undisturbed for at least twenty-four hours.
Euryale is intensely overwhelmed. Otherwise, she would be a very calm, level-headed sort of person. However, in light of being uprooted from the only home she knew, her lack of self-control and devastating bouts of hyperactivity has raised more than a few eyebrows. Though Euryale is not nearly experienced enough to be wise, she is an intellectual, and harbours a very decent amount of intelligence when she isn’t a nervous and emotional wreck. Easily frightened, strict, worrisome, and a fretful perfectionist, she fears failure above all things. Though terrified and resentful of her position as the elven trading ambassador, Euryale is eager to succeed in it, both to help her dying father and to impress Queen Islanzadí for the chance to go home to her libraries in Ellesméra and stay there.
Euryale is also socially awkward. She does have a fair amount of control over a lot of people in the trade she oversees, and with them she tries to be strict and commanding, but doesn’t usually come off the way she meant to. Among other elves and those equal to or higher than her position, she is blatantly submissive and nervous, especially with men, since the only one she was ever close to is her father. She also can’t lie, and can’t make false friends. This usually leads to good people distancing themselves from her and the more manipulative types trying to get a hold on her. Despite her lack of wisdom, Euryale does have some good intuition going for her, and she’s usually quite decent at reading these sorts of people as bad. However, they also make her even less motivated to try and make friends, so she usually ends up embarrassing herself further and then fleeing back to her maids and her books to lose herself in the epic romantic tales she so adores or the soothingly familiar drone of treaties and ancient commandments.
History:
Euryale’s parents were both well-known and wealthy. Her mother was Mehra Moghedien, a centuries-old Dragon Rider who rode a deep copper female dragon named Semirhage. Her father is Cælestis Gorgophone, First Librarian and one of Islanzadí’s councillors, who is the caretaker for every book, every history- any and all texts written by the elves or otherwise. Both were elves hailing from Du Weldenvarden, and both were avid fans of philosophy and literature. They met in one of Ellesméra’s many libraries one night, and after discovering each other’s shared passions for reading, began to visit each other on a regular basis. Within a matter of short years, they became mates despite the distance barriers- Mehra flew to other cities and even other countries, while Cælestis’s duties required him to stay in Du Weldenvarden.
Despite how rarely they could meet, Cælestis and Mehra carried on their romance mainly through the use of draumr kopa, and whispered sweet nothings and other exchanges of love of the sort typically found in bad romance novels. However, they were happy. And so about a hundred years later when a young Galbatorix captured and tortured Mehra and Semirhage as well as several other dragon and Rider pairs, Cælestis dropped all of his work to come running to their rescue. Naturally, an aging bookworm, even an elven aging bookworm, stood very little chance against the Forsworn. He was immediately imprisoned alongside his mate. This was directly at the beginning of the Fall of the Riders, and so Cælestis and Mehra were actually tortured very little. Galbatorix was too busy fighting off his opposing forces. However, they were still trapped in the intensely fortified dungeons with no hope of escape or rescue.
Mehra became pregnant with Cælestis’s child over the few years that they were imprisoned. Months later, Euryale Gorgophone was born in the Ilirean citadel. Her birth inspired Mehra with a desire for escape. Before, she had only been focussing on getting every single prisoner out alive, but now she just wanted Euryale to get away free. However, none of the Riders or dragons would escape notice if they attempted an escape, so she decided on her mate. Without the consent of the other Riders, she and Semirhage cast an intricate cloaking spell on Euryale and a protesting Cælestis before combining energies and using explosive magic to blow a hole through the dungeons. In the massive infighting between the imprisoned Riders and the Forsworn that ensued, Cælestis fled with Euryale, running straight to Du Weldenvarden.
His reappearance was received very warmly. The First Librarian alive and well was a ray of hope for Du Weldenvarden. However, he hid Euryale. Elf children were highly prized, but he worried about what her existence might mean during such a crisis. And things only seemed to get worse. Within a matter of days, news arrived of Mehra and Semirhage’s slaughter at the hands of the Forsworn, as well as all of the other imprisoned Riders. Within a matter of months, King Evandar was killed. The elven population was horrifically decimated at the hands of Galbatorix, forcing Du Weldenvarden’s armies to retreat and then exile themselves within their borders, permanently closing them off to the rest of the world. While the war went on for humans and dwarves, the elves became locked in a painful political struggle. Hundreds of their kin were dead, making tensions high and trust nearly non-existent. Children were even rarer now.
Cælestis, the timid librarian, was suddenly in a very unstable position. Uprooting of statuses and even assassinations were becoming commonplace, and he feared for the life of what would probably be his only child and his one remaining piece of Mehra as well as his own well-being. And so, he hid Euryale’s existence. Originally, he’d planned to reveal her if the war went well, but with its dismal end and the constant presence of spies and wavering trust, he told nearly no one of his daughter. He resumed his duties as First Librarian and counsellor, and kept his young daughter in a variety of secret rooms to be raised by three nursemaids- Klotho, Lakhesis, and Aisa. All three elves had been grievously injured or mutilated during the Fall- Klotho had severe scarring across her entire body, and so was no longer able to physically fight, Lakhesis had been a Rider whose dragon’s death was so traumatizing that she had gone a little crazy, and Aisa had been abused to the point of being manipulative and promiscuous.
Euryale only saw these three women and her father throughout most of her lifetime. She was raised by them from infancy into girlhood, and proved to be a healthy, if lonely, child. Even though most elf children led very lonely lives, often only being surrounded by adults, her sadness depressed Cælestis. Despite loosening tensions among the elves, he found himself terrified of exposing Euryale to the outside world and the loss of innocence that would follow growing up. Instead, he offered Euryale an alternative- books. After all, she lived in the biggest collection of texts in the known world and beyond. Euryale was taught how to read and write at a very early age. And for over a hundred years, that was all she did. Every piece of literature in every dialect of every known language was consumed by her passion. Though she never saw the outside world, pictures and words filled up her imagination. She knew everything from the most tragic romances to the most successful battle strategies, and then some. And she was happy.
However, all good things come to pass. After a hundred years of desperately hiding the existence of an elf child, and the fact that Cælestis was old, even for an elf, he was beginning to get worn down. With a weakened perception among other things, he failed to notice an odd collection of tiny white spots on his salad one evening. Shortly after ingesting the food, he became grievously ill. The next morning, Klotho found him unconscious in the library. Cælestis was too sick for the likes of any healing spell the nursemaids knew, so they rushed him to Islanzadí’s court. There, he was placed in a bed and treated by several doctors, and his life was saved. However, the disease had taken a tolling effect on him due to his previous weakness- slowly, but surely, he was dying, and no cure could save him.
In fact, Cælestis was one of the very first to suffer the effects of eating vegetation blighted by the Taint, a mysterious infection poisoning southern Du Weldenvarden and the northern reaches of the Empire. The First Librarian’s illness caused talk, and eventually, accusations started to jump around. But Cælestis had other things to worry about. With his impending death, other elves would be keen to assume his position once he was gone, and he loved his library too much to trust it with just anyone. And Euryale knew the whole building upside down and backwards. She was his first choice for his successor, but then there was the little detail that she wasn’t even supposed to exist. He’d spent decades purging rumours that Mehra had been pregnant before she died, and his trust with the Council would be shattered. But he realized that Euryale couldn’t spend her entire life indoors. She needed to get out and see the world.
This was the exact opposite of what Euryale wanted. Already paralyzed from her father’s close call with death, suddenly being dragged out into Ellesméra by her nursemaids was far from comforting for her. Her very existence was met with shock, confusion, and rage, especially from Islanzadí, furious that a child had been kept from her for so long. Cælestis approached her with his proposal to make Euryale his successor, which she replied to with an adamant no. Besides the fact that she’d been invisible until five minutes before, she was very young, far too young to sit on the Council, being only a little older than her daughter Arya. Cælestis begged Islanzadí to give Euryale a chance. She was level-headed, intelligent, and very well-versed in ancient treaties and histories. Eventually, out of friendship and pity for Cælestis, Islanzadí decided that Euryale could become his heiress if she could prove herself worthy of the title.
However, exactly how that would be proven was a mystery. Du Weldenvarden had recently secured a trade with the Varden and Surda- in return for older, yet powerful magical spells from the elves, the humans would trade them metals needed for the upcoming war against the Empire. However, Islanzadí deemed it necessary that an ambassador go to Aberon to oversee the trading there. However, few elves were willing to live among humans, and the Council was already understaffed with the battle against the Empire and the recent appearance of the Taint, something no elf had ever seen before. Euryale’s expertise wouldn’t help either of those causes, but the mere overseeing of a trade would please Cælestis and give the girl experience. Islanzadí placed the responsibility on Euryale.
The next few months bent Euryale to the point of near breaking. Suddenly, she had Klotho, Lakhesis, and Aisa force teaching her how to behave like a proper lady, as well as rememorizing every treaty, protocol, and etiquette found among the humans. However, she was sorely rushed- after the events of the summit in Feinster went horribly askew, Euryale was ordered straight to Aberon. She’d only had weeks of training, and she was pushed out of Du Weldenvarden, which she hardly knew, and marched straight to Surda. Once there, she was given a room of her own in Borromeo Castle, as well as a smaller room for the entourage of her three nursemaids that she’d been allowed to bring. Euryale has since spent the last two weeks getting used to the humans, her new home in Surda, and to her new position.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Well, firstly, I dont want Euryale's mum, Mehra, to actually be dead. XD I'm thinking her dragon Semirhage's Eldunarí is in Galby's possession, and Mehra is in hiding. Eventually, I want her to re-appear. For now, though, I just want Euryale to get used to her new position and especially have troubles with it, as well as get to know the world she was isolated from for the past century. Woo! She's getting started on this by having a crush on Kyemen. x3
Threads:
Incursus (MAIN PLOT); in Dras-Leona with a LOT of people. Active!
Awkward Attraction; in Aberon with Kyemen (Angmor). Active! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on May 31, 2010 22:38:58 GMT -5
Name:
Honovi
Age:
Sixty-two
Race:
Half elf, half human
Play-By:
Summer Glau
Colour Code:
Lime Green (32CD32)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Native American (Navajo)
Accent:
Heavy Wilder (heavy Navajo), speaks very broken common tongue
Occupation:
Agoraphobic recluse
Allegiance:
The spirits of the Spine
Appearance:
Honovi carries that difficult balance between muscle and agility. At an average height, standing at 5’6”, and lean, her upper body is strong, with a very thin layer of muscle since she has such a skinny frame. Her face is weathered and dark, her features high and wild, with very pronounced cheekbones and an oval-shaped face. Honovi has dark brown eyes, and even darker hair, which is thick and hangs in long, dark locks. Honovi occasionally braids several strands together, but usually keeps her hair loose and tangled. Honovi has several tattoos done in black ink by herself; unique diagrams showing her faith to nature and also random pictures of animals, mostly deer. They swarm all over her body.
Living in the forest, Honovi doesn’t often get a chance to get real clothing, so she wears animal skins. However, Honovi seems to have a gift for sewing, and so she can braid different hairs together and sew the skins in various shapes and sizes. Most of her clothing for warmer weather is low-cut and tight, usually made out of short-haired hides such as deer and the occasional cougar. Her winter clothing is thick, heavily braided, usually made with wolf skin and wool, whenever she can get her hands on it. Honovi has several pairs of shoes, tanned leather moccasins for summer and thickly furred boots for winter. Honovi loves jewellery, and constantly hoards it, and has built up quite a collection in her house. She is always wearing at least some of it, in necklaces, painstakingly pierced earrings, and ankle bracelets, although she doesn’t often wear rings or arm bracelets since she is usually wearing gloves and leather straps along her arms to protect her from the drawstring of her bow. Honovi carries a large longbow, made of yew, and she makes arrows with jewelled arrowheads for magic use. All of her arrows are marked with wolf blood to mark them as hers, and the shafts are made with eagle or hawk feathers.
Personality:
Being a mixture of elf and human, Honovi suffered throughout her childhood as the two species clashed within her. The result was the return of both elven and human primal instinct- the raw violence and passion of the humans, and the intelligence and caution of the elves. Honovi is more comparable to an animal than a person. Besides her tribal markings, animal skins, her home being the Spine, and the fact that she speaks broken common tongue with a thick accent, she is extremely primitive in nature. Cities and people terrify her, and she responds to fear with her poison blow darts, bone knives and yew longbow. When in a situation where she is powerless, she backs away and hisses before striking with her hands. Honovi is extremely averse to socializing, and flees or forces out even those who pose no threat to her. She especially dislikes elves, and will verbally abuse one before fleeing from them.
The reason Honovi has become like this is a mixture of her upbringing and her response to the trauma of her foster brother’s death and her banishment from Du Weldenvarden. Her foster father, as well as many other elves, strongly disliked her for being half-elf, and so she had very few friends. Often, she was sent into the forest by her father to keep her away while he courted possible new mates, which was where she learned about the silent sentience of the trees and the spirits of the animals, as well as basic survival skills. When she supposedly murdered her brother and was subsequently banished from Du Weldenvarden, she reverted to primal behaviour as a subconscious reaction simply to keep herself from going insane.
However, Honovi isn’t entirely animalistic. When away from people, she is very peaceful and philosophy-oriented. She spends most of her time listening to the trees, which she is convinced are the wisest sentient beings, being the oldest. In truth, she is listening to the spirits inhabiting the trees, a well as the very old, faceless beings that make their home in the Spine. Honovi believes she has gone untouched by these creatures because of her incredibly close ties with nature, and therefore her inability to harm it. She is highly sensitive to others’ feelings and intuitive, capable of making the right decision even if it’s something as basic as fight or flight. She also has a good degree of wisdom, even if she is very young in elf terms. However, her lack of social skills and primitive ways make these aspects of Honovi hidden ones.
History:
Honovi’s birth was the result of a union between a male elf named Tammuz and a human woman called Vita. Vita Brigixt was an attractive, dark-skinned human who ran an inn on the road between Narda and Dras-Leona. One rainy night, Tammuz, disguised as a human, bolted into the inn, begging for shelter for the night. Tammuz had left his homeland to spy on the Empire as a sleeper agent, but had been discovered. Vita was completely taken by him, since although he was disguised as a human and therefore somewhat less beautiful, he was still very attractive. He had no human money on him, but Vita let him stay the night for the price of sleeping in her bed. Tammuz grudgingly agreed, and left immediately the next morning. He died weeks later, killed by Imperial soldiers when he tried to return to Du Weldenvarden.
Vita didn’t make the alarming discovery that Tammuz was an elf until nine months later, when her daughter came out with pointy ears. A horrified Vita, knowing that Honovi could never stay in the Empire, quickly donned a cloak, grabbed her horse from the inn stables, and rode out into the wilderness with her baby. Clearly, elves still existed, and Vita’s best guess was that they were in the unexplored wilderness of Du Weldenvarden. She rode all the way there, but at the edge of it was sharply repelled by an invisible barrier. She got off her horse, got down on her knees, clasped her hands, and begged the elves to take her daughter. She cried and screamed to apparently no one for a full hour before the elves guarding that side of the forest, Nuada and Adonis, finally approached her. Though they were more than unhappy to accept a hybrid into Du Weldenvarden, they saw the need to protect an elf from Galbatorix, even if she was only half. Baby Honovi was taken into Du Weldenvarden, and a hugely relieved but sorrowful Vita returned to her inn, where she worked until she died peacefully at the age of seventy-five forty years later. She never saw Honovi again. Honovi never learned of either of her real parents.
Nuada and Adonis had to take Honovi to Ellesméra to explain their case to Queen Islanzadí, who accepted the girl-child and handed her to an elven nobleman called Lord Maris, whose mate Lithia had died some years earlier. He had one son, a boy called Kasan, who had developmental problems. Maris did as his queen ordered, but had huge prejudices against Honovi. She was nursed and weaned by the only female elf with an infant in Ellesméra, Linnea. Even though Honovi grew very slowly compared to a human, her mortal side made her grow twice as fast as the average elf. However, Maris, unhappy with his lot, often sent Honovi into the deepest, darkest parts of Du Weldenvarden to study plants and herbs and collect samples for him, hoping that she would get lost. But Honovi very easily took to the wild and its freedom, even choosing to strongly prefer it over the prejudicial elves of her home city. She even learned wild magic as opposed to the ancient language, both through books and conversing with the spirits.
But Maris was starting to suffer for accepting Honovi. At council meetings, he was mocked, and no female was interested in becoming his new mate. He decided that Honovi had to go away. One day, when she was twenty-six, still a child by her aging pattern, Maris took her out into the deepest, darkest part of Du Weldenvarden and used magic to produce colourful lights that fascinated Honovi into following them around. As soon as she had disappeared, Maris turned around and headed back to Ellesméra, judging that her human part wouldn’t let her survive long. And Honovi stayed lost for days. However, during those days, she did not starve. She found spirits among the trees that guided her back to Ellesméra within a matter of days. Maris feigned relief when she returned, but realized he would have to get rid of Honovi in a way that didn’t leave the entire city wondering and didn’t cast him as a suspect. He wouldn’t be able to somehow get Honovi out of Du Weldenvarden by himself, and murder was out of the question, so he focussed on the next best thing- exile. And by doing it, he would be killing two birds with one stone.
Maris was almost, if not as, embarrassed by his son Kasan as he was by Honovi. His differences, as well as the fact that no woman was interested in a male with a chronically ill son, made him want to get rid of him just as strongly. So, when Honovi was in her early thirties, Maris slipped a copious amount of alcohol into her food. Once she was somewhat drunk, he urged her to drink more, and the feeling was so good that Honovi continued to drink, and drink, and drink. While she did this, Maris snuck upstairs to his son’s bedroom and brutally murdered him. Then he took Honovi, who had passed out, upstairs as well, and covered her body in Kasan’s blood. Then he went to wash himself off, and, as soon as he was completely clean, bolted out into the streets of Ellesméra and screamed murder.
Honovi woke up the next morning covered with her foster brother’s blood and imprisoned in a tree grown for the very purpose of jailing her. Queen Islanzadí and her council were discussing what to do with her. Honovi didn’t understand what she had done, having no memory of the past night, and when she was told, began to grieve. The council decided that Honovi had a full day to get out of Du Weldenvarden. If she didn’t, soldiers would be sent to kill her. And with that, she was released. Honovi spent the entire next day running for her life. She didn’t reach the border on time, and soldiers were dispatched to see her killed. Honovi, giving up, sat down underneath a tree. The tree, feeling her innocence and her terror, quickly snatched her with its roots and pulled a screaming Honovi underground. It kept her safely there for several days as the soldiers hunted the woods, feeding her its own fruit. Once they were gone, the tree released her, and Honovi escaped Du Weldenvarden on foot, eluding the elven soldiers.
Unfortunately, the elves contracted a group of nearby slavers to keep an eye out for a dark-skinned elf, and they were waiting for Honovi when she burst out of the barrier. She was immediately captured, but upon closer inspection, they saw that she was only half elf. This was unsatisfactory to the slavers’ leader- they’d been promised an actual elf, not just half, and few people would want to purchase a half-breed. So, she was let loose like an animal. Honovi ran, and didn’t stop running until Du Weldenvarden disappeared behind her and the mountains of the Spine rose up to meet her. And for the next thirty years, Honovi simply lived in the wild. She wanted nothing to do with humans or elves anymore, so she built herself a small cabin out of living trees in the Spine, and has quietly lived there since.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Honovi needs to get into civilization, probably unwillingly. XD I'm thinking in some thread, she gets captured by Imperial or Varden guards, depending where she is, and only escapes once she's in a city, in which case she'd be totally out of her element and require some form of help. Or, even better, someone saves her and she becomes bound to them until she does the same. I'm not sure how many people would be interested in that, though. At any rate, I literally want her out of the woods, so PM me if you're interested!
Threads:
Too Far Gone; in the Spine with Za'lyyr (Tiilyr) and Relquin (Fallen). Inactive. =(
Ní Turais Deireadh; in the Ramr River with Convel (Phrost) and Ava (Don). Totally active! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jun 2, 2010 23:35:07 GMT -5
Note: Dragons are only available through the Egg Chamber boards.
Name:
Ikehr
Age:
Nearly a year, but due to the Taint he's still hatchling size.
Race:
Dragon! HOO!
Play-By:
When he takes possession of a human body for a long enough time it always takes on the same physical appearance. This shall be Milo Ventimiglia. =D
Colour Code:
Aquamarine (7FFFD4)
Real-World Ethnicity:
In human form? I'd call him a mix of Japanese and Spanish. XD
Accent:
VERY refined, like, Elizabeth Hurley refined, English.
Occupation:
... being a dragon?
Allegiance:
The Varden, but to his Rider first and foremost. x3
Appearance:
[Please note- Ikehr is still a baby, but I’m writing his appearance as though he were full-grown. As a hatchling, he looks pretty much the same as his full size, just smaller. And cuter. XD] If you were to look at Ikehr from a warrior’s perspective, you would be sorely disappointed. It’s clear that Ikehr isn’t going to be the most massive dragon to take to the skies, or the strongest. He’s almost two-thirds the size of the average male, and is even easily mistaken for a female, since his build is rather feminine. His muscles, though taut under his skin and making him easily capable of bashing up more than a few Imperials, are hardly any use against a fellow dragon. His limbs are long and lanky, and his wings are also long, and so not very suited to manoeuvrability. Therefore, if you only see dragons as weapons, he doesn’t quite cut an imposing figure.
However, for anyone who sees dragons as objects of beauty, Ikehr’s narrow chest, long, serpentine neck, and feminine features might strike them as very elegant. Even though his movements aren’t particularly elegant, mostly slow and sleepy as well as his tendency to drag his feet and tail, Ikehr has that very long body that makes him look refined in a deer-like way rather than the kingly dignity of most male dragons.
Ikehr’s colour is aquamarine, a mixture of pale green and blue, which is helpful when flying in high altitudes since the blue tones reflect the harmful rays of the sun as a form of sunscreen. His scales are smooth to the touch and look very slick, almost oily, and with his long body, he looks more like a snake than a dragon. However, despite their soft appearance, they are harder than any armour. They’re very thick along his back, neck, head and tail, while on his belly they’re very soft, and so pale that they look almost white. His wings, which are long and narrow, making them both suited for soaring over long distances and for speed, two advantages to his lack of muscle, also have a very thin layer of scales, and when held up to the sun they are translucent, and his webbed veins are very visible. His large eyes, usually full of conflict and boredom, are usually dull, but on the rare chance that he gets inspired his eyes are a sharp, brilliant teal. His pupils are a small slit of black in the centre of his eyes.
Ikehr’s build, as mentioned above, is very snakelike. His legs, tail, and wings are very long compared to his body, making him comparable to a human teenager whose torso hasn’t quite caught up with the rest of his growing body. Ikehr’s body, as well, is lengthy rather than compact and strong, and his torso is much smaller and narrower than most males’ are. His white horns, mounted on the top of his head, are very straight and narrow, growing almost parallel to his head. Ikehr’s head is triangular, and very long. Like all dragons, he has a small dip in between his shoulders ideal for a saddle, and has a row of long pale spikes that grow from his neck almost all the way to the end of his tail. The tip of Ikehr’s tail is covered with spikes and is very bony, able to both crush and pierce anyone or anything he happens to smash it into.
Personality:
Ikehr isn’t quite what one would call the one true hope of the Varden. For one, he has very little prejudice against the Empire and very little love for the Varden, mostly because neither has done anything so far to inspire his hatred or his loyalty. He did feel the dragons dying at the hands of Galbatorix, but Ikehr doesn’t feel particularly connected to other dragons. Ikehr stayed in his egg for hundreds of years, mostly disconnected from all beings of every race, and he, quite simply, preferred it that way. He is overly cynical and very unimpressed with most of the sentient races, from the philistine nature of the humans to the overbearing ways of the elves.
However, despite his negativity, Ikehr does have a dry sense of humour, and he uses it to its fullest with biting sarcasm. He can see the irony in everything, mostly showing it through a wry, reptilian grin on his face, one of the few expressions he shows. Even for a dragon, Ikehr’s face normally remains unreadable, and his eyes more often than not reflect boredom, especially when forced to sit through scholarly training or council meetings. Ikehr isn’t too thrilled with his superpower status, and wants to crawl back into his egg and stay there more than anything. He can be considered ‘crowd-shy’, rarely participating in moral boosts for the Varden troops by having dragons fly through the ranks and preferring to read a book somewhere lonely and quiet.
Ikehr is very intelligent for a dragon, making up for his unimpressive size and strength, and learned how to use speech very quickly. He has even learned how to read, although he doesn’t quite have the manipulative grip necessary for writing. Books, despite their irritatingly tiny writing, inspire him, and his Rider’s complete disinterest in them bothers him immensely. Ikehr finds Nemo’s mind fascinating, and her demeanour more than a little amusing, and seeing her is one of the very few things that he can look forward to. They are complete opposites in many things, but that’s one of the reasons that they are so close, as well as both of their reluctances to being so important. However, since they are both so new to each other, the truly deep bond that the Riders and dragons are so famed for has yet to be forged. As of now, Nemo serves to Ikehr as a form of entertainment, and he to her as a brain whenever she doesn’t feel like using hers.
Towards other people and dragons, Ikehr shows exactly what he is- melancholy, subtly annoyed, and very sarcastic towards everyone and his position. His voice is always monotonic, and he shows neither humility nor superiority to anyone, be it a peasant boy or Lady Nasuada herself. However, he does very much enjoy setting things on fire and scaring the life out of the ‘puny humans’ with verbal threats and ear-shattering roars.
History:
Ikehr was laid a very, very long time ago, back in the full swing of the Age of Riders. His parents, Suha’il and Berezi, were both wild dragons who were nagged into giving some of their eggs to the Riders, one of which was Ikehr. Ikehr, among his brothers and sisters, was carted and kept in the Riders’ main hatchery under the citadel in Ilirea, present-day Urû’baen. Soon after his arrival, he was picked up by an Elder, who placed a spell over his egg and then spoke to him telepathically. She told him that he would only hatch when his true partner touched his egg, even if it took a million years, and that it was his job to decide what human or elf would be his Rider. Ikehr was comfortable with that. Annually, he was taken out and touched by hundreds of elven and human children in the Riders’ Festival. However, Ikehr was a little overwhelmed the first few times by the amount of children’s minds that touched his, and soon started to detest the Festival. He wanted to break out all on his own, but the spell kept him from doing so, which insisted he pick the right person before he could hatch.
Some years later, Ikehr managed to properly study every child’s mind in the short time that they held him, and was mostly unimpressed. In the humans, he found greed, stupidity, and violence. In the elves, he found vanity, superficiality, and god complexes. Ikehr had very high expectations for the being that would be his companion, and none of the thousands of people who touched him seemed the type he’d like to spend hundreds of years with. Ikehr stayed hopeful for some time, but eventually gave up when he was met with the same people over and over again- over-eager little snots who simply weren’t qualified for his taste. Eventually, Ikehr ignored the children touching him entirely, refusing to hatch even when the Elders, who started to get a little impatient after several decades, placed stronger spells over his egg.
But then one day, fire rained down from the sky, and Ikehr felt a strong sense of death and terror all around him. The hatchery was opened up, and people grabbed him and ran off with him. They weren’t children, but soldiers and already bonded Riders, and Ikehr felt mixed feelings of fear, anger, and hopelessness among them. Ikehr had a connection to other dragons mentally, and from them, he was able to feel hundreds of them being slaughtered. He was taken out of Ilirea, across the burning sands of the Hadarac Desert on dragonback, and then stored somewhere warm and dark with several other eggs.
Ikehr remained there for over a hundred years, which was fine by him. There were no more irritating children manhandling him. But then, nearly an eternity later, the darkness was opened up, and Ikehr was pulled into the midst of a furious battle. He, amid about half of the rest of the stored eggs, was placed in a sack and taken back across the desert and into Surda, where he was placed in the safety of Borromeo Castle’s foundations, watched over by an Eldunarí named Veroan, who watched over Ikehr with compassion. There, Ikehr was subject to people touching him yet again, except now they were of all ages rather than just children, and mostly human. He learned, from the turmoil of their minds, that dragons were very rare now, and felt desperation from each person that touched him. However, still none of them managed to meet his overly high standards, and he grew irritated and retreated within himself once more, ignoring them and Veroan.
But then one night, one person held him, and she was nothing like anyone who had ever touched Ikehr before. She was a full-grown, completely inebriated human, and from her mind Ikehr picked up nonsensical cravings for turkey omelettes and opening restaurants, and absolutely nothing about desperation, or even wanting to be a Rider. As for her soul, Ikehr sensed a good amount of greed and a violent temper. But still, the fact that she was thinking about turning him into a delicious omelette and selling him made Ikehr enormously curious, and he was unable to resist, after hundreds of years, from finally breaking out of his turquoise egg, much to Veroan’s joy.
The sight that met his eyes was shocking, to say the least. A midget redhead with an enormous sledgehammer was snoring loudly in a drunken stupor amid the rest of the eggs in the cavern. Utterly nonplussed, Ikehr crawled onto her chest and put one of his tiny talons on her forehead. He sensed very human tendencies- a want for cash, an impressive amount of pride for someone so puny, and a love for inebriation. But there was also a deep sense of sincerity, as well as some sense of right and wrong, that set her apart from other humans. Ikehr, with some amazement, realized he’d found the one. Eager to meet this woman, he violently woke her up and introduced himself.
The woman, called Nemo Ramsey, was rather upset as soon as the booze wore off, and not just because Ikehr rubbed himself up against her right palm and made her go into spasms of pain. She’d had no intentions of becoming a Rider and learning how to do stupid spellcasting, as she very profanely told Ikehr, and then told the Varden Council when it was discovered that an egg had hatched. But Ikehr was firm, and so was the Council. He had hatched for her and only her, the bond had already been forged, and there was simply no going back. Reluctantly, Nemo accepted him, and they both have since begun to study the ways of the Riders.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Nemo and Ikehr need to get over their differences and start to like each other, obviously. XD Both of their almost-deaths helped contribute to that development, but what's really going to help them is Ikehr's sickness. Ikehr will be physically sick during the current main plot and he and Nemo's upcoming training thread with Kyemen and Sierthra, and as such will remain very small. However, he's going to have a MASSIVE growth spurt by the time the next main plot gets fired up, basically the size of a proper dragon, and instead will get mentally ill and go crazy. Fun stuff!
Threads:
A Drunkard's Delusions; in the egg hatching chamber in Aberon with Nemo (Emma). This is Nemo's successful application to become a Rider. =3
Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of characters. Closed and finished.
Finding Nemo; in Cithrí with Nemo (Emma), Niar (Angmor), Calia (Lily) and River (Lily). Barely clinging to a strand of activity. x.x
Unknown Factors (MAIN PLOT); in Teirm with a LOT of characters. Active!Note: Dragons are only available through the Egg Chamber boards. |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jun 10, 2010 19:59:29 GMT -5
 Name:Kieran Kolbjorn Age:Around three hundred eighty Race:Elf Play-By:John Barrowman Colour Code:Royal Blue (4169E1) Real-World Ethnicity:Icelandic =D Accent:It’s Brooklyn, man. Fuhgeddaboudit. Occupation:Hive Commander Allegiance:The Hive- Alagaësia’s official criminal organization Appearance:Even at his age, Kieran’s looks still turn many a girl’s head. A life mostly consisting of beer, money, and women, has ensured that Kieran suffers from no premature aging- the only really noticeable sign of his nearly 400 years are the strands of grey shot throughout his hair and occasional beard. Kieran is average in height and weight at 6’5” and 200 pounds, but lean rather than bulky in physique. His skin is smooth and clear, with only a gentle tan, since he does most of his work at night. His eyes are very dark blue, nearly black, and his hair is jet black except for the grey hairs strung like cobwebs throughout it. Kieran’s face is rarely clean-shaven, and he usually has at least a little stubble on his chin and neck, which he sometimes allows to grow into a small beard. Being an elf, Kieran’s face is smooth and well-formed, taking him dangerously close to being a total pretty boy. However, living in the Empire requires him to lie low, so he has had his face magically altered to more closely resemble a human’s as well as removing his pointed ears. His face is long and oval-shaped, with a prominent chin and jawbone. His eyes are framed by surprisingly long and thick lashes and he has a high, arched forehead, lending him a more feminine, aristocratic kind of beauty. This is slightly off-set by his thin lips, high cheekbones, and crooked nose, a part of the spell. Kieran knows how good he looks and pays scrupulous attention to his appearance. His hair is always shiny and combed, his facial hair is well-trimmed, and he bathes regularly. He also pays attention to how he dresses. His line of work requires him to be wearing at least a little armour at all times, so Kieran wears a thick leather vest underneath his clothes that goes around his torso. His wardrobe varies in colour, although the garments are usually loose and baggy. His tunics are various lengths and cuts, and his trousers either end above or below his ankles. His shoe choice is usually thick, leather-shod boots. When on the occasional dangerous meeting or raid, Kieran opts for thick leather armour that allows him to move around easily. His weapon of choice is a crossbow in battle, although he prefers to kill his enemies by sneaking up on them while they’re asleep and slitting their throats or relying on others to fight for him. Personality:Though Kieran does not count among the oldest of elves, he has seen and suffered enough in his life to make him an almost stereotypical grumpy old man. Usually found grumbling about the incompetence of others or barking at said incompetent people, he has a gruff attitude and a dry wit that he practically uses as a self-defence mechanism. Though his temper is easily set off by intellectuals, criticism, and people who are just a little too nosy for their own good, he enjoys pestering others to lose theirs with inappropriate sarcasm, which usually works. Despite often looking and acting like the most closed and bitter of men, Kieran greatly enjoys his job, doing it with a calculating air accompanied by panache and a desire to make everything he does look pretty. Due to living much of his life among humans, Kieran is not comparable to other elves in the least, except for a neat freak quirk and an obsession about his looks that usually has him dubbed as a metrosexual. To him, other elves are too pretty, too proud, and just a pain to be around. He greatly admires humans for their pragmatic intelligence and boundless energy, as well as their incredible abilities to survive and adapt. For this reason, Kieran also strongly prefers human women, although he has rarely participated in sexual acts and no romantic ones whatsoever since the death of his wife. However, despite his secret applause of the human race, they can also be somewhat dimwitted. Elves, to him, are even more so. Kieran does not take incompetence or fooling around lightly, and tends to use his height to intimidate others. If that fails, he slaps them with casual, yet nonetheless insulting remarks or dismisses them, and in worst-case scenarios will violently lose his temper. Due to his average-ranking position in the Hive, Kieran is just as used to giving orders as he is of taking them, and will respect those above him with a quiet sort of loyalty as long as he remains content with their leadership, and will boss around those below him until they drop from exhaustion. History:Kieran’s parents were Ióann and Rainesfere Kolbjorn, a deeply faithful couple who both hailed from Ília Fëon. However, Ióann, a Rider, was killed fighting Urgals when Kieran was little more than a seed in his mother’s belly. Rainesfere was so pained by the loss of her beloved mate that she ended up ‘freezing’ the baby in her womb when she learned of its presence, unwilling to give birth while in such deep emotional pain. It was only ‘unfrozen’ when Rainesfere was reunited with her daughter Myaja almost fifty years later. Kieran was born weak, but otherwise healthy, and was mostly raised by his older sister while his mother tended to her duties as a gardener. Naturally, this was long before the Riders’ Fall, and so things were very quiet and very peaceful. At age twenty-five, Kieran was sent to Ilirea to learn magic and physical combat, but proved to be a major disappointment- the boy was too weak to train with weapons like swords and bows, and he had great difficulty with magic, struggling to light a candle even after years of studying. Since it was clear that he could never be a Rider, he was mostly given up on, and the fifty years that Kieran spent there was an embittering, unhappy time. He returned to Ília Fëon as a troubled adolescent. Neither his mother nor his sister could clear the cloud of anger hanging over him, and so Kieran left, heading to the hopefully greener pastures of Ellesméra. And for a while, they were- Kieran was introduced to gambling as a way of relaxing his troubled mind, and it worked- though he wasn’t any good at it. The little money his family gave him was soon replaced by a mountain of debts, one that an elf believed that Kieran really needed to replace. The elf only meant to hurt him and therefore scare him into finding a way to pay up, but it was nighttime and pitch black, and Kieran thought he was trying to murder him. Kieran promptly killed the elf, but upon realizing it was one of his fellow gamblers became truly afraid and ashamed. He never learned the elf’s proper name, as he fled Du Weldenvarden that night with soldiers right at his heels, making for the elf-loving human country of Broddring. A little over a hundred years old then, that was when he craved an ending to his misery- he was banished from his own homeland, and had no way of reaching his family. He spent most of his time at bars after that, warming up to women and alcohol. A drunkard, a gambler, and a lecher, Kieran doesn’t know and will never know how he got the witty, intelligent, and wicked dark beauty named Alindra to fool around with him for nearly an entire week. Though they soon grew tired of each other and drifted apart, Kieran’s luck ran out on him once again- due to the difficulty of half-elf conception, he hadn’t got a single woman pregnant and doubted he ever would. But Alindra developed an interesting condition a few months later, one that had her humble lumberjack father knocking down Kieran’s door demanding that he marry her. Kieran accepted out of amusement, seeing as Alindra, a human, would grow old and die in the blink of an eye. He married her a month later, and soon, their half-elf daughter Svenja was born. Kieran expected her to be little more than an annoyance that he would shove into an orphanage as soon as Alindra’s father keeled over, but was surprised to find himself very much in love with the unremarkable bundle of pink flesh. He also developed a fondness for Alindra and her charm, which ripened into true love over a few years. He dropped his alcohol and his gambling just to be with the two of them, and for the first time in his life was truly and completely happy. However, the circumstances were not so pleasant. This was around the time when the Riders were getting overconfident, and racial tensions began to emerge. The union of a human and an elf was looked upon with distaste. Kieran used what little magic he had to change his face, making it more human, and he and Alindra kept Svenja indoors. But it wasn’t enough for them to escape the Fall. Du Weldenvarden marched on the human cities, throwing them into a panic. Homes were ransacked in the night, including Kieran’s, and he, his wife, and his child were all attacked. Alindra was hit in the back as she tried to flee while carrying an already dead Svenja, and Kieran was stabbed as he slept, but he managed to survive while they didn’t due to his pure elven blood. Devastated and enraged, Kieran participated in much of the ransacking out of temporary insanity before finally collapsing from his injuries. He woke up with his wounds bound and in a warehouse filled with people. These people were a company known as the Hornet’s Nest, part of the Hive, the dominant criminal organization of Alagaësia. Kieran’s violent attacks had been seen and admired, and due to the deaths of thousands of Hive members, they were looking for recruits. Kieran accepted, having nowhere else to go, and was made a lowly Drone. He spent most of the next few years training in knife-throwing and hand-to-hand combat, as well as trying not to die on operations. Kieran became very decent with said weapons, because he found that training took his mind off his pain. He trained constantly, up to the point of nearly burning out entirely on several occasions. Once Kieran was considered able to take care of himself, and the fact that he was smart enough never to wear a red shirt on ops, he was promoted to a slightly not-as-low position as an enforcer, and travelled throughout the cities protecting the higher members of the Hornets and taking down any infiltrators. After that, Kieran’s life was just tasks for the Hornets for a very long time. Galbatorix’s lack of interest in maintaining crime just made things easier for the Hive. He was promoted several times, although very slowly despite his loyalty due to the Hornets’ mistrust of elves. Eventually, he was allowed to become the commander five years before present. He became the head of the Hornets, who were situated in Dras-Leona. Kieran was given money, which he used to open a bar called Cutthroat’s Saloon near the center of the city. It now serves as the main area of operations for the Hornets in Dras-Leona, and became popular among the citizens. Soon, Kieran took on hired thugs, prostitutes, and allowed outside business deals to run inside it. Kieran has since then been the innkeeper of the Saloon, and still keeps his position as the Hornets’ head. The only thing of remote interest that has happened since is Renata. Born of rape, half elf and half Urgal, her grandfather ordered a hit on her and her mother that Kieran almost carried out if a priest of the Imperial Temple hadn’t interrupted after killing the mother, frightening the God-fearing Kieran with warnings that killing a child would damn his immortal soul. To amend for the mother’s murder, he would need to raise the child himself. Kieran, was disgusted at first, but then he realized- Renata was an exact copy of Svenja. Similar in everything from facial features to colouring to their half-elven natures, he was imbued with a desperate need to take her in. He promised this to the priest, and has since set her up as his foster daughter. Kieran has taken in a number of stragglers since, one of them being his nephew Helaku, among others. OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:Um… so Kieran found a little daughter to mend the hole in his heart left by his real daughter, right? Now he needs a girlfriend. XD I dunno. I NEED TO PLAY THIS CHARACTER MOAR. I DO have a VERY interesting thing going on with him and Kyemen, though- Kieran hates his guts, but owes him some massive debts for trying to kill Kyemen after mistaking him for someone else. This is most fun. =D Threads:www.erisdar.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=threadarchives&thread=1188&page=1]An Unfriendly Mood; in Feinster with Kyemen (Angmor), Sierthra (Angmor), and Tasalae (Renea). Died too soon. -.- Grievous Compromises; in Aberon with Taraak (Angmor) and Mizaros (Elaniver). Inactive. T_T The Last Sunset; in the Hadarac Desert with Sthenno (Emma), Hayder (Hayder), and Nasuada (Nayeli). Entirely dead. DX www.erisdar.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=threadarchives&thread=1764&page=1]You Never Can Tell; in Dras-Leona with Duren (Arizae) and Clarus (Don). Died due to my inactivity and then Arizae’s. D= Closed Circle (MAIN PLOT); in Lithgow with a LOT of characters. Active! Everything to Lose; in Dras-Leona with Kyemen (Angmor). Totally active! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Jun 10, 2010 20:32:01 GMT -5
Name:
Laioni (lay-oh-nee)
Age:
Eighty; appears eighteen
Race:
Elf
Play-By:
Victorria Johnson
Colour Code:
Violet (EE82EE)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Australian; of Greek descent
Accent:
Saxon (Aussie)
Occupation:
Witch
Allegiance:
Officially, the Varden. Unofficially, she's out for herself. XD
Appearance:
Laioni is one to stand out, both among elves and especially among humans. Being raised in the wild, away from social norms, she has developed her own style that she is hard-pressed to abandon. She doesn’t conform to the taboo of wearing form-fitting, revealing outfits, nor does she wear armour or finely tailored girlish dresses. She wears whatever she wants to wear. She never had to worry about people looking at her oddly when in the wild, and she still doesn’t care what they think of her. Laioni wears comfortable outfits that don’t get in her way, all of which are made by her. Since she strongly dislikes throwing them away, most of them have rips and tears from use. Fashioned from natural materials like plant and animal parts, they range from feathers and down, leather, snakeskin, various animal pelts, bones and teeth, shed dragon scales and even Urgal horns in her outfits. All of her clothes are dyed black or shades like blood red, poisonous green or nightshade violet, revealing Laioni’s passionate affinity and love for the dark side.
Laioni’s goth tastes are also apparent in her natural appearance- years spent in a dark forest and her tendency to be a night owl has given her skin only the lightest tan, which she was actually born with. She stands at 5’9”, but often appears even taller because of her body shape. She is naturally thin, but lightly muscular from her constant exploits in the wilderness. With broad shoulders, elegant long legs and arms and an imposing height, she cuts an intimidating figure. Her chest and hips are a good size, and though they don’t add much to curvature because of her muscles, she often showcases them in her outfits. She has an attractive face, albeit in an odd way- with high, elegant cheekbones, a tall forehead, narrow but full lips, a pointed chin, and sharp nose- she has the exotic beauty so characteristic of an elf. Her looks are accented by thick black hair that hangs around her shoulders, and almond-shaped pale grey eyes that are framed by thin black eyebrows and full lashes.
Laioni, having an appeal for aesthetics like most women, adds to her looks with the help of makeup. Like her clothing, the colours are dark and brooding, as she enjoys looking like the agent of darkness she believes herself to be. Black mineral powders for eyeshadow, dark hues of kohl for outlining her eyes, blood red and black pigments for colouring her lips, and skin-coloured creams for covering the occasional blemish, as she is, after all, still very young in elf terms. Laioni’s jewellery is usually made of animal bone, Urgal horn, and the rare precious metal when she finds it. They cover her wrists, ankles, neck, and occasionally her fingers. Laioni has no piercings to speak of, but was given a small green snake tattoo on her left shoulder by her mother as a child. She constantly covers this tattoo with clothing.
Personality:
Despite her looks, race, and power, Laioni has a very low position in the Varden. This is because she very easily comes off as the biggest bitch anyone can claim to have met. Vain and arrogant, she disrespects any and all of her superiors, and makes her distaste for all of mankind very obvious. She is cynical, always ready to back up anyone’s positive outlook with smugness and sarcasm, and is extremely antisocial. She doesn’t want and makes no effort to have any friends, and is absolutely always off on her own. Besides all this, her love for the forbidden arts, the dark way she dresses, and her total insensitivity and vicious temper make her out to most people as some evil, malicious witch right out of hell.
However, Laioni is like this simply because she was never socialized. Nobody paid much attention to the sixth-oldest child in a royal family when she was very young, and then she spent the rest of her time living in the Spine with only her power-mad mother as company. She simply doesn’t understand things like courtesy, proper ways of speaking and dressing, and sensitivity, because they weren’t values she was raised by. She was taught that power is the way, and that only the strong should survive. Therefore, she looks down on the weak, and despises things like love, compassion, and mercy. Though somewhat savage, these values are how Laioni has survived the constant struggles in her lifetime.
Laioni is not evil, and her mother wasn’t, either. Though Laioni fears and dislikes her mother, especially after finding out that she is actually a Shade, she doesn’t hate her. She wants to separate herself from her; enough to drop her last name- Laioni’s full name is Laioni Venali, but she never gives out her last name and has chosen to ‘forget’ it. But her mother made her the person she is, and gave her the strength and beauty she so prides herself on, and Laioni is thankful to her for that. However, Laioni is also adamant on her own survival, and would not hesitate to truly kill her mother should the need arise- as her mother would not hesitate to kill her either. Mercy also loved Laioni, only wanting to take her body out of necessity. However, their passion for living and drive to fulfill their personal goals has torn them apart, and caused a mutual desire to murder each other.
Though Laioni hates people more than anything, she also finds herself oddly intrigued by them. Their massive flaws, their passion, and their violence all keep her coming back to them. Though she doesn’t like actually interacting with them, she often eavesdrops on people, or just watches them from afar. She isn’t interested in anyone in particular or stalking, she’s simply curious as to their actions. When forced to interact, Laioni enjoys being cruel to those she considers lesser than her, which happens to be everybody. Stupidity and weakness make her irritable, and she is very easily insulted, which usually causes her to terminate her rare conversations and never speak to the person again.
Laioni does, like everyone, have a weak spot, though she hides it and refuses to admit to even herself. When in emotional pain, which is usually caused by when she finds herself missing her mother and family or when viciously mocked by other members of the Varden, she turns to silence and her own company for comfort, vehemently refusing sympathy from other people. Usually, she will retreat to her secret home in Silverwood Forest, which is actually a hollow tree stump that leads into some old underground elven ruins where she sleeps and practices her magic. Laioni repulses the other elves living there, and does all sorts of things to irritate them, like eating meat and wearing animal clothing. Laioni, perhaps because her mother is a Shade, has an odd need to eat meat. However, she is very respectful of nature.
Finally, Laioni’s one and only love is the love she holds for forbidden magic. Though she is well versed in the ancient language, making up for her total lack of combat training, she uses the mind, body, and soul in her spells. Her potions often use the body parts of animals and even people, and their dark ways make them very powerful. Laioni has tentatively been allowed to use black magic since it’s so effective against the Empire, but it is a tense agreement. Laioni cares little for the Varden or for the battle against the Empire. Her only reason for joining their ranks is for protection from her mother, and for backing to pursue her less legal magical studies. This, too, makes her one of the more unpopular members of the Varden.
History:
Laioni’s intense affinity for the dark may be connected with the darkness surrounding her conception. Her parents were from across the western ocean, from the Saxon Empire, a country ruled entirely by elves who decided to use their superior power to overthrow and enslave the humans. Because of their constant desire to control more land, their country was in a constant state of war and terror. Laioni’s parents were two very different people. Her father, Othello Venali, was the Duke of the Saxon Empire, second only to royalty. Her mother was a nameless wretch and a whore born under a rock. This woman was known as ‘Brothel Girl’ throughout much of her childhood and adolescence. Tired of being oppressed her entire life, she decided to strike back at them tenfold.
Though they were hated and feared and worthy of being killed on sight, Shades were very common in the Saxon Empire. The war created so many unhappy spirits that they were possessing even non-magical folk. However, Laioni’s mother had always been a powerful witch. After honing her craft for decades on end, she purposely called the spirits to her, allowing them to infuse her with power. But since she allowed them to do so, she didn’t become insane or lose herself. She mixed her raw passion with power and logic, becoming the Shade Mercy. She set her sights on Duke Othello Venali, a man who’d personally tormented her on various occasions. She disguised herself as a noblewoman and visited his court, using her beauty to trick him into falling in love with her. Eventually she made him divorce his wife Ekaterina and marry her.
Mercy planned to build an army to destroy those who’d oppressed her during her entire life- the race of elves and the race of humans. Over the following decades and centuries, she had no less than seven children with Othello, four boys and three girls- Sammael, Rusalka, Sekarr, Veela, Castox, Laioni, and Nazara. All seven children were born as normal elves, as Mercy hadn’t allowed her spirits to take control of any of them while she’d been pregnant. Laioni, being the sixth-oldest child as well as the youngest daughter, wasn’t paid much attention to by anyone except her mother. Mercy trained all her children heavily in magic, and all of them proved to be very powerful, even for elves. However, unbeknownst to them, Mercy was also turning them into Shades like herself. This was done when the child reached sexual and therefore magical maturity, and was completely secret. To keep her husband from meddling, Mercy tortured him with such horrible hallucinations that he took a drill to his head to bore them out.
Now the Duchess of the Saxon Empire as well as with five of her seven children successfully turned into Shades, Mercy worked on training Laioni. But she was put off when her true nature was revealed one day when her magic slipped, and the entire court revolted against her, burning her castle to the ground. Mercy’s five oldest children escaped in various ways, but she was forced to make a choice between taking Laioni or her son Nazara with her. Since Nazara was still only a baby and Laioni had basic magical training, she picked Laioni. Nazara was left on the steps of a temple for adoption, and thirty-year-old Laioni was smuggled out of the Saxon Empire and into a boat with her mother.
Mercy went to the most magical place on the map- Alagaësia, birthplace of the dragons. Elves were common, magic was prized, and Shades, though greatly feared and hated, were not unheard of, unlike many other countries. The two of them sailed there, but upon landing in Teirm, Mercy got a rude awakening. The Saxon Empire hadn’t traded with Alagaësia for fifty years, which was because it had been overthrown. The dragons were dead and gone, save for a few, the elves had gone into hiding, and magic was feared. Dismayed, Mercy took her daughter to the Spine, as she was not granted access into Du Weldenvarden, and didn’t want to be forced to live among the inferior humans and dwarves in either of their cities. Forced to live humbly, she built a cabin suited to she and Laioni’s most basic needs.
Laioni was taught to forget her old life, and considering she was approximately six years old in human terms, she quickly did. Instead, she learned the rules of the wild and the importance of survival of the fittest. Contact with anyone but her mother was strictly forbidden during her childhood, and she knew only her mother and the wilderness for many years. Mercy also brutally taught her magic. The Shade was no longer interested in building her army. Now she just wanted to survive. Since Mercy relied on feeding on elves to sustain herself, which she could no longer do, her body had begun to age and wither. She needed a new body, a fresh one, and she had her eyes set on Laioni.
Laioni, of course, had no idea of her mother’s true intentions, considering Mercy nothing but an ill-tempered old biddy. She grew up wary of civilization as well as cynical of it, and preferred to keep to the forests. She didn’t learn anything about nature’s magic like other elves, as her mother focussed mainly on the dark arts. And Laioni adored them. She trained long and hard in spells of the mind, body, and soul, focussing on them rather than physical things. However, she does appreciate the silent beauty of nature, her main reason for not touching it. Laioni did rebel against her mother several times, going off to the nearby towns and villages to meet with the people there. They knew her as a stranger, and she was repulsed by their ways. However, she was oddly intrigued by them.
Laioni’s life might have stayed like that forever- learning black magic, long walks through the forest, spying on the human race- if her mother’s health hadn’t rapidly started to fail. Laioni had just turned eighty years old, and had grown into a young woman, so Mercy decided not to wait any longer. She began to prepare the rites for switching her spirits to her new body. But she was frightened of not making it in time, and with the fear of death hanging over her head, she began to grow careless. One day, she accidentally left her grimoire, a book of her thoughts and spells, where a pair of raccoons could reach them. Laioni spotted them dragging it off and reclaimed it, and, curious, began to read.
She was horrified. Though her mother had always been brutal and unsympathetic with her, she’d never guessed that she was a Shade, or that she would want to kill her. Inspired by self-preservation, Laioni decided that matricide was the only way to go. That night, she poured a circle of oil around the cabin as her mother slept, and filled the inside with anti-spirit objects and spells, and then set it alight. The entire building caught fire, but as it fell apart, an enormous shadow rose out of it. The black figure had no physical form, but it looked meaningfully at Laioni before it flew off, disappearing into the Spine.
Laioni was terrified. Her spells hadn’t worked and the magical flames hadn’t either. She knew her mother would come back for her, and she was alone in the wilderness with no friends, no allies, and the only family she knew of was across the ocean, which she had no means and no money to get to. She would have to stay in Alagaësia, at least for a little while. She wanted to remain in the Spine, but she would be alone, and she was afraid of the greater, powerful beings residing deeper within. She was left with four choices- go to the dwarves, the elves, or join either the Varden in Surda or the Empire. The dwarves would give her the seclusion she wanted, but not much in the way of magical protection. She wasn’t interested in being forced into the wars and politics between the Varden and the Empire, either, so she decided to try her chances on the elves of Du Weldenvarden.
Laioni had never met an elf before, so she didn’t know what to expect. She travelled to Du Weldenvarden, and was allowed inside, since their borders were now far more open than when Mercy had arrived half a century earlier. It wasn’t long, though, before Laioni found herself appalled by her own species. They abhorred any kind of magic except natural magic, and yet used it to make nature do what they wanted, were uppity and arrogant towards her for being foreign, and were complete cowards. They’d hid in their forests for over a hundred years with their power instead of taking over like they should have, and only the will of a young boy with a pet lizard had coaxed them out. And besides that, they weren’t sympathetic to her needs for protection from her Shade of a mother.
Furious and disgusted, Laioni turned her back on them, and was forced to pick between the Varden and the Empire. She could also go to another country, but Laioni wanted to pick between the two evils she knew. Her first choice was the Empire- big, interesting, and good for protection. But the Empire was also known to have several Shades serving it, and her mother might have joined them. Besides that, Galbatorix scanned all his servants’ minds, and he’d be very interested in an elf with a Shade for a mother. And so, Laioni resignedly turned to the Varden, joining their operations in their camp in northern Surda.
Laioni swore her oaths, but she was neither sympathetic to nor interested in the Varden, and so she was consigned to the very low position of witch. Besides that, though she followed orders, she was highly disrespectful to her superiors. However, since she was so powerful, she was given the duties of participating in skirmishes and researching magic for the good of the Varden. Laioni, however, was confident that she had the protection she needed from her mother when the time came, and the Varden allowed her to continue her own magical studies in peace. In the past few months, Laioni has participated in the occasional battle, and has found a secluded home for herself in Silverwood Forest.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Miss Laioni needs to start making friends. XD Other people will have to take the initiative, though, as she doesn't want and doesn't believe she needs friends. She does have a little side plot about to start with Xanathiel, the Varden Shade, by having smex with him and then later OMG getting attached to him, where she'll have issues with unfamiliar feelings. But she still needs friends. Wewt!
Threads:
Citizen Soldier; in Feinster with Kano (Kano) and Andraste (Kano). Inactive!
A Different Shade of Red; in Aberon with Xanathiel (Gael). Active!
Closed Circle (MAIN PLOT); in Lithgow with a LOT of characters. Active!! |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Aug 26, 2010 18:18:43 GMT -5
Name:
Malandra Ramakrishna- born as Lucrezia Leone
Age:
Thirty-five
Race:
Human
Play-By:
Monica Bellucci
Colour Code:
Cyan (00FFFF)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Half French and half Italian
Accent:
Really refined French. Think Marjolaine (the dark-haired chick in the dress) in Dragon Age: Origins. Mally has that exact voice and accent. =D
Occupation:
Imperial scientist; creator of the undead soldiers
Allegiance:
The Empire
Appearance:
The beauty of Malandra Ramakrishna is one that goes unmatched by elf or human alike. With her sultry dominatrix air, comfort with her own body, and deep, seductive voice, she can even be called beautiful by those who are not moved by her physical beauty- though those are few and far between. Malandra’s body is a contrast of pure white and icy black, with her milk-white skin untouched by any blemish or discolouring. Her raven hair hangs to her upper back, framing her flawless face- elegant bone structure including high, strong cheekbones, an arched forehead, full lips, sloped jaw, gentle chin, and a pointed nose- her one and only flaw are her eyes. Though large and framed by raven’s wing eyebrows and long lashes, they are a soulless solid black, seemingly lacking of irises. Malandra hides them by magically changing her eye colour at her whim.
Malandra’s body is her very own pride and joy. Though her height of a mere 5’4” is mediocre, the curves and softness of her body are not. Large breasts and hips and long and luscious arms and legs are showcased in all of her outfits. Malandra’s clothing is racy and scanty, always revealing at least half of her bare body. Constantly accompanied by three to six inch heels, she changes her clothing several times a day, and never wears the same outfit twice. Usually dressing in black, silver, white, or jewel tones, Malandra will reveal her form to any and all. She also only wears a little bit of makeup- still hauntingly beautiful without it, she only lines her eyes with kohl and paints her lips pink or red, rarely powdering her face or eyelids to make her pearly skin stand out all the more.
Personality:
Malandra’s personalities in public and in private are practically polar opposites. In public, she uses every inch of her sexual attractiveness to her advantage- fully knowledgeable that even her looks on their own wouldn’t have gotten her to where she is today, she is courteous, charming, and sexy, as well as using her reserves of intelligence, education, and wit to impress others. She acts as if she is completely unaware of the fact that she is the terrifying Doctor Malandra Ramakrishna, with an amicable, if conceited, air. If questioned about who she really is, she will delicately change the subject. In truth, Malandra is manipulative to the core, and uses her impressive armoury of beauty and personality, no matter how fake, to worm her way into hearts and minds in order to get what she wants. She is paranoid, unable to trust anyone or anything, and always ends up destroying those she holds close to her, as she never, ever truly loves them.
For that is who Malandra Ramakrishna really is. Eaten from the core by paranoia and desperate self-preservation, she is a creature of fury and manipulation. This is the purpose that drives her- the need to survive. Malandra is, naturally, completely crazy, but is completely unaware of it, believing her the one pure, true person in a world gone mad. She has powerful views on insanity and is deeply philosophical, as madness is often the harbinger of genius. She is highly intelligent, although this intelligence may often be clouded by anger or her ever-constant fear of her own death, and educated- wasted on her own desires to never die and create ruin and terror when she is angry.
The reason Malandra is so well known is for her experiments. The reason she believes the world is insane is because all of its inhabitants have gone mad with pain. For that, she is obsessed with this feeling- physical pain, emotional pain, and spiritual pain, and how it affects the mind. She also constantly conducts experiments on it- her victims, or, as she calls them, medical patients, are usually slaves, convicts, or simply people who were unlucky enough to fall for her charms. Along with her obsession with pain is her complete fear of death- Malandra bathes in the blood of virgins and drinks it, as well, believing that it will keep her young, while she searches for ways to make herself immortal. She is obsessed with perfection, believing that once the world is cured of its madness, ugliness, and pain, it will be perfect, and she will be its queen.
History:
Malandra Ramakrishna was actually born as Lucrezia Leone, the youngest daughter of the lord of a small city-state called Strelitzia near Surda. Her father, Giuseppe Leone, was from the southern country of Italia, while her mother, Lucinde Pélagie, was from the country of Galicia. At that point, Strelitzia was terribly weakened by the Empire, and Galbatorix took over soon after Lucrezia’s birth, burning down the entire city. Lucrezia and her nursemaid were the only survivors found. As the people began to pick themselves up, a general of Strelitzia thought Lucrezia to be useful to the country’s future, and she was packed up to be raised by some nobles in Belatona at the age of three. There, Lucrezia grew like a weed, but felt oddly detached from the world- the last daughter of a foreign dynasty was not wanted, and she was largely ignored despite her intelligence.
When she was thirteen, a man named Deonte came to Belatona’s court. He was a bard, and just as beautiful as his voice, and Lucrezia developed an obsession with him. However, Deonte was no mere bard- he was an assassin, and Lucezia witnessed him slaughtering a fellow noble. Instead of reporting him or becoming afraid of him, she was just even more intrigued by the man. When he left Belatona, she followed, and when he caught her following she begged him to let her come with him. Deonte agreed- he had been looking for a student for some time, and Lucrezia was lovely and educated. He took her in, and started to train her. Lucrezia was not suited for combat, but she quickly took up an affinity for poisons and the art of lying- which was all a political assassin needed.
And that was Lucrezia’s life for fifteen years- though she rarely ever laid a hand on a blade, she lied, seduced, blackmailed, and murdered, all for Deonte. However, Deonte saw her prowess and her strength, and began to turn against her. Though she loved him truly and deeply, he was a paranoid, embittered man who trusted no one. Now that Lucrezia was as strong as he, he started expecting her to turn against him. Lucrezia never planned for such a thing, but he decided to kill her before she killed him. He planned an elaborate scheme which included getting Lucrezia to be caught with papers spelling out treason against the Empire- the worst of crimes. Lucrezia, at the age of twenty-eight, was caught, imprisoned, and tortured, while Deonte left the Empire.
Before being executed, Galbatorix was curious to find out Lucrezia’s side of the story. He entered her mind and walked among her memories- and found that she was innocent of the treason. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he also saw insanity- one that had given birth to genius. For that, he freed her, and encouraged her to change her identity and start anew. Lucrezia married a man she had lied to and used several years ago- a noble of Teirm called Nagendra Ramakrishna. She changed her first name to Malandra, meaning ‘black snake’- two words she thought fitting for Deonte. Malandra spent much of the next few years learning about medicine and philosophy, both of which gave birth to her ideals that the world had gone mad with pain. Since then, she has been experimenting.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Uh… besides like, commandeering main plots, I have no idea. Every person I’ve tried to get into a plot with this woman- yes, the WILLING ones- end up disappearing. I had some nice manipulative plans going on, too. -.- I also have no intentions WHATSOEVER of having her go over to the light side, since she was BORN creepy and crazy. Really… I don’t know. Also, I may rewrite her history- it’ll be exactly the same thing, but longer since this one is so short and retarded that it’s completely senseless.
Threads:
An Unhealthy Atmosphere; in Dras-Leona with Elaniver (Will). Inactive and deadded. -.-
A Chance Meeting; in Urû’baen with Murtagh (Dae) and Thorn (Nathan). Inactive since they both left. =(
Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of people. Closed and finished!
Nymphomaniac Fantasia; in Urû’baen with Murtagh (Ashley). Inactive and archived. D= Name:Nagendra Ramakrishna Age:Thirty-one Race:Human Play-By:Alessandra Ambrosio Colour Code:Amethyst (9966CC) Real-World Ethnicity:Indian descent Accent:Hindi Occupation:Lord of Teirm Allegiance:Himself, and the greater good. Though he isn't sure if that's the Varden or the Empire just yet. Appearance:Nagendra is rather far from most people’s concept of a lord. As opposed to tall, majestic, and regally clothed, Nagendra is slender, small at 5’8”, and wiry, more suited to agility than brute strength. Besides that, any resemblance to a lord stops short at his wardrobe and appearance. Physically, Nagendra looks different form the men of Alagaësia- he has the moderately dark skin colour of his people, and has a bold, but narrow, good-looking face, with small, almond-shaped eyes, a sharp nose, strong chin and high cheekbones. He has a very slender, almost tiny figure, with an evenly toned body from spending most of his time riding horses and having sex rather than swinging massive weapons. He has dark, intelligent eyes that usually possess a sadistic gleam, and thick black hair that hangs to his shoulders. Nagendra occasionally paints streaks of colour into his hair, and changes his eye colour with his wife’s magic. Nagendra enjoys and prefers to add to his natural beauty with the help of makeup. He uses soot, chalk, lead, henna dyes, ground minerals and plants, plant secretions, and many other natural ingredients for his make-up. However, some items he uses, such as mercury and poisonous plants like belladonna, cause him to sometimes get unpleasant infections and have him lying in bed for several days at a time. He applies it all over his face and body, and the colours match his dress and mood. As for clothing, Nagendra happily swapped the usual silk robes and costumes for the scantiest, most revealing women’s clothing he could get his hands on. Silk corsets, high-heeled boots, and see-through leggings are among the scandalous items that make up the entirety of his wardrobe, much to the discomfort of visiting diplomats. Nagendra also highly dislikes wearing pants, preferring short skirts or just laced undergarments instead, proudly showing off his long, shapely legs and narrow hips. Very little of his body is left to the imagination, especially when he gets into a particularly liberated mood and walks around entirely naked except for a special accessory. Nagendra’s wardrobe is politely overlooked by his staff and subjects. Nagendra has two items that he always carries on his person. Though most people think of the diadem as the signet of the ruler of Teirm, it is actually the heavy gold necklace that constantly hangs around Nagendra’s neck that is the Ramakrishna family’s symbol of power. Hanging on a heavy gold chain, the amulet consists of black onyx embedded with a crystal ship, a fitting symbol for Teirm. Nagendra never removes this chain, carrying it around almost religiously, and becomes extremely aggravated if anyone, even his wife, touches it. The second item he carries is Røde Lam, ‘red hand’ in the ancient language, the heirloom one-handed longsword of the Ramakrishna family. The sword is made of bone and starkly white in colour against the ebony hilt of the blade. The reason for the name ‘red hand’ is because of the rubies studded into the hilt of the sword. The sword has the three colours of House Ramakrishna- black, red, and white. It is, however, an entirely ceremonial weapon, and isn’t much use in an actual fight. Nagendra’s physical strength is mostly due to rigorous sex rather than actual fighting, and he generally avoids it as well, being a hemophiliac. He leaves most of his battles up to his bodyguards. Personality:Nagendra is an absurd person. He knows it, and is quite proud of it. He is a flamboyant, hot-headed individual with a penchant for the outrageous and the unusual. Noble breeding and upbringing gives him an air of elegance and authority suited to a king, perhaps the only thing that gives away his status. As a person, he is manic, wildly passionate, and will do absolutely anything for shock value. He always makes time for his own affairs, even if it includes putting aside his lordly responsibilities. His affairs are usually sexual, revolving largely around massive orgies to ridiculous games to simple suggestive flirting. Sex is Nagendra’s lifeblood, and as long as someone is willing to do as he commands, he doesn’t care who they are, their age, gender, or about the consequences that might arise from whatever they do together. Nagendra also holds a particular fondness for mental torture. His favourite game is playing with people’s minds, from simply not letting a lusty someone have him to city-wide scandals. Contrary to popular belief, Nagendra does not participate in physical torture with his wife. Nagendra loves Malandra for her beauty and her passion, but he isn’t in love with her. Nagendra has yet to truly love someone or something, instead having short-term obsessions that he eventually tires of and throws away, unless, rarely, they have the ability to keep up with his whims, which only two people have managed to do so far. He largely ignores most of his subjects, seeing them as simple objects in his life. He is easily moved to lose his temper, and those that get in his way are promptly punished, whether they were at fault or not. Nagendra is, however, very intelligent, and his abilities lie in his mental strategies. He can easily pick out talented people for his use, and will abandon them just as quickly should their usefulness fail. He views all people as his toys, and enjoys mixing them up to his pleasure, telling a lie here, stealing something there, and therefore engineering affairs, split-ups, getting rid of unwanted people, and causing confusion and havoc in his court in general. Nagendra is especially a fan of magicians for their value and because of creative ways to use their magic in bed, and has freely opened his court to them. Nagendra is more than comfortable with his position. He has a very relaxed approach to ruling, viewing his palace as his playground, and all the people within it as toys placed there specifically for his whims. Truthfully, he cares far more about his superpower status than about the welfare of Teirm, and leaves most of the work to his staff, who so far have managed to keep up the impression that he actually gives a damn. Nagendra doesn’t even really understand the seriousness of ruling a huge city, but he does understand the seriousness of what could happen should the population become unhappy after what happened to his brother-in-law. He avoids this by keeping close tabs on his staff as well as ushering any questioning individuals straight to the chop. History:The Ramakrishna family wasn’t originally Alagaësian. Back in the old days, when the Age of Riders was in full swing, they were lords in the eastern country of Dakhla and visited Alagaësia as diplomats and ambassadors for their homeland. However, when Galbatorix’s reign began to rear its ugly head, Nagendra’s great-grandfather Ravana was unable to get himself and his family to the port in time. Soon, the Forsaken closed off all exits, and no one was allowed to leave the newborn Empire. Rather than die like millions of others, Ravana turned to Galbatorix and offered to help him assimilate the common folk. The Ramakrishnas were rich and powerful, and Galbatorix accepted his proposal. Though the family played little part in the Riders’ downfall, they did aid financially, as well as eliminating any other ambassadors or diplomats that stood in the king’s way. In reward, Galbatorix made Ravana Ramakrishna the Lord of Teirm. Shiva Ramakrishna, Nagendra’s father, was the Lord of Teirm when he was born. At seven feet in height and adept with blunt weapons, he was a fearful ruler as well as war-mongering, but a skillful politician. Having little interest in marrying, his five children Devi, Madhuri, Rajani, Ereshkigal and Nagendra were all bastards from various attractive visiting ladies. Nagendra shared a mother only with his sister Ereshkigal, an actress called Lakshmi. Lakshmi gained fame in performances throughout the Empire and beyond, and by the time Nagendra was four years old, she had been heard of even in Urû’baen and received several invitations to star in plays there. Eager to appear in noble courts in cities including Ceunon, Dras-Leona, and Belatona, but not eager to bring her children along, Lakshmi left without them, and Nagendra never saw her again. Part of this was because he was rather unimpressive as a child- he was painfully shy, never spoke a word despite years of coaxing by nursemaids, and was frequently subject to heavy nosebleeds. Besides that, he was a hemophiliac- his blood was unable to clot, and this made him badly suited to being a warrior. So, he was entirely ignored by his father, having very little chance of being heir to the Seat of Teirm anyway, and was sent away to schooling with his sisters in the countryside. Nagendra was picked at, mocked, and eventually largely ignored by his teachers, fellow noble children and even the servants. Only Ereshkigal, perhaps because of their shared mother, showed kindness to him. She, however, left for Urû’baen when Nagendra was nine when she was found to have exceptional magical abilities, and he didn’t see her again for many years. Nagendra lay swathed in misery for some time, which didn’t end until he was thirteen. That was when Lucrezia, a young visiting noblewoman who couldn’t seem to stop noticing Nagendra, approached him while he was sitting alone in his bedroom one day. Without provocation, Lucrezia started to clean Nagendra, starting at his feet, onto his knees, along his thighs, and all the way up from there. The resulting thrill was revolutionary for Nagendra. He was jump-started into speech and active socializing. Sex became his lifeblood, his unfailing saving grace, and he finished his education with skyrocketing marks when he was eighteen and promptly returned to Teirm. He worked on earning himself a properly respected place in the court, and after a few years had gotten a great deal of attention- all except from his father, who was still shamed from Nagendra’s lack of ability in fighting and now, his obsessions with women’s clothing and men, too. Determined to force his father to give him the respect he believed he deserved, Nagendra decided that the best way to do this was to eliminate his competition- meaning everyone in his way for the Seat. Ereshkigal was spared, as she had given up her chances in favour of being a sorceress, but that still left his three sisters Rajani, Madhuri, and the current heir Devi, in his way. First, he went after Rajani. Nagendra was inspired when he found a small snake in the courtyard one evening, and carefully hid it in a pouch. He blackmailed a servant into placing the snake under his sister’s pillow, which the servant, a boy named Cailan, reluctantly agreed to do. The snake was accordingly hidden, and when Rajani lay down to sleep that night, she was promptly bit in the neck and died an agonized death in fifteen minutes. The city reeled with shock, and the whole court went into deep mourning. Cailan was so ashamed of what he’d done that he confessed to Devi about what Nagendra had forced him to do. Overcome with rage, Devi stormed into her brother’s room. Nagendra, unlike everyone else, was rather cheerful, and seeing this, Devi turned away to go rat out her little brother. Terrified of being found out, Nagendra snatched a ceremonial axe from the wall and buried it into her shoulder, killing her. Then, even more terrified, he worked fast. He found Cailan in the palace kitchens and murdered him in a similar way, then mopped up both his and Devi’s blood. Then he dragged their bodies into Devi’s bedroom, laid them on the bed and stripped them naked to make it look like they had been caught committing adultery against Devi’s consort. The court went mad, and Devi’s husband was accused of murder and locked in prison. Nagendra, satisfied that he’d eliminated two of his sisters, laid low for a while until things calmed down. Now that he was in second line for the throne, he figured he could wait a while until he went after Madhuri. But things took an unfortunate turn for Nagendra shortly afterwards. Lord Shiva, mortified at his favoured daughter’s crime and at her death, became deeply ill, a sickness of the heart that not even the most powerful Imperial magicians could cure. Though he was religiously cared for, he eventually just stopped eating and died when Nagendra was twenty-three. Madhuri rose to the Seat of Teirm and her son, Mahisha, was set up as the new heir. However, mere days later, Madhuri was killed while arguing with her consort, Risthart. The argument took place at the top of a flight of stairs, and Madhuri accidentally slipped and fell to her death. Mahisha was automatically made the new Lord of Teirm, but since the boy was five years old at the time, it was decreed that Risthart would rule until his son was eighteen. Nagendra was shoved back into line for the Seat and was deeply wounded, having failed at his dream. For seven long years, he lounged in depression and gloom- brought on, mostly, by everything he had done to achieve his father's love. He depised himself for the deaths of his siblings. But then one day, Lucrezia approached him again. She, however, was no longer Lucrezia, but Malandra, one of Galbatorix’s scientists. She coaxed him back into the real world, plying him with praise and encouragement. Nagendra was eventually very taken with the woman, and recovered from his depression. He decided that he couldn't wallow in his self-hatred anymore. He needed to amend for the horrors of what he had done, and win back his family's seat. Elated, he married Malandra, and with her help they began to plot. They hired an alchemist. First, they allowed Risthart to reign unchallenged for several months, but then with Malandra and the alchemist’s help, Nagendra began to slip a variety of poisons into Risthart’s meals. First hardly detectable amounts, and then more and more as time passed. Risthart began to hallucinate and have wild delusions. His once-brilliant battle strategies became lunacy, and soldiers fell in hundreds to the Varden. Buildings spontaneously burned down. Trading screeched to a halt when Risthart deeply insulted the surrounding cities. A year later, assuming that their lord had gone mad with power, the city rose up to overthrow him and Teirm became a hellhole. During the confusion, Malandra herself plunged knives into Mahisha, took him out into the empty woodland, and left him to die there, returning to Nagendra and lying that Mahisha had run away. Afterwards, Nagendra headed straight for his summer manor south of Teirm, and patiently waited for things to calm down. It took several weeks, but eventually a chancellor arrived at Nagendra’s summer manor and announced his brother-in-law’s death. Since Mahisha had disappeared as well, and was most likely dead too, Nagendra was next in line for the Seat. His coronation was quick, as the city was eager to forget their previous ruler, and he happily settled in as the new lord. OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:So, Nagendra is no longer evil. Insane, yes, evil, no. And he wants to amend for the terrible things he's done. Meaning, though he is careless, selfish, and very unaware, he wants to engage in stuff that is FOR THE GREATER GOOD. Varden or Imperial, it doesn't matter. That's all I have so far, unfortunately, but it's a work in progress! Threads:Glamorous; in Feinster with Pravus (Talon). Inactive and deadded. T_T [/center][/size] |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Sept 12, 2010 22:45:09 GMT -5
Name:
Mnemosyne (nee-moh-zah-nee) Megara Ramsey- due to the utter unpronounceable-ness of this name, she just goes by Nemo Ramsey.
Age:
Twenty-four
Race:
Human Rider
Play-By:
Joelle Kayembe
Colour Code:
Dark Orange (FF8C00)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Mulatto (half white and half black)- half English, half Liberian
Accent:
Very heavy Old Cockney
Occupation:
Varden Rider
Allegiance:
The Varden, but only because they made her. How rude of them!
Appearance:
At first glance, few would consider Nemo beautiful- a more appropriate word for her is different. Standing at 4’11” without heels, she can just reach five feet if she stands as tall as possible. She carries that difficult balance between muscle and agility- though not hugely muscular; wielding her warhammer has given her noticeable upper-body strength. She also has that feline grace which can allow her to move invisibly. Most of Nemo’s height is devoted to her legs, which are long, considering the stature of the rest of her body. Nature has not gifted Nemo with womanliness- she has firm, small breasts, but the curvature necessary for a woman has been mostly killed off by her working out, and her hips are barely noticeable. Nemo’s body is easily described as thin and wiry. She also has tattoos, although they’re rarely visible- done in blue, they cover the left of her neck and her entire left arm and shoulder in blue Celtic knot-work. The tattoo hides several severe scars along those areas, and they’ve almost been rendered invisible. However, Nemo does also have uncovered scars. From the base of her neck to the small of her back, she is covered with scars of varying degrees of severity- some are white, some are pink, and some are still red and new. These scars are the result of one too many whippings by angry soldiers from Nemo’s pirate days.
Nemo’s face is the most striking thing about her- her unusual bone structure has her referred to as exotic. She has very distinct, noble features with an arched brow, an oval face, a prominent nose, and drawn, full lips. From her father, her skin is very dark, chocolate brown, and her weathered face, height, and face shape often leads her, more often than not, to be considered handsome rather than beautiful. While most people of her skin tone would have dark hair and dark eyes, Nemo has her mother’s eyes and hair- her eyes are a sharp jade green and her hair is bright orange. Untied, it reaches her waist. She keeps it in cornrows almost all the time and coiled up in a rimmed black felt hat that she holds near and dear to her. Old and weathered, it is her most treasured possession.
None of Nemo’s apparel was made for a woman. She has two sets of armour and nothing else. Nemo’s two armour sets are both very light, being made out of thick, boiled leather. The first set she wears at night, and is entirely black- the pants are tight and form-fitting, and the shirt covers her from neck to thigh. She also has a short, thick pair of gloves to match. The second armour set is almost identical, but is much thicker and not dyed, therefore better for daytime warfare. This armour is harder to move in, as Nemo usually depends on staying invisible and unmoving if she happens to be in danger. The design is generally similar to the black armour aside from a few texture differences. She never shows off her body or wears jewellery. Nemo has two sets of boots- one pair is thick, for traversing in the wilderness and also for casual wear, with noticeable heels. The other pair is black, but with three-inch heels for her constant need to appear taller.
Personality:
In Nemo’s one year of fame as a Rider, she has come to light as one of the oddest hopes of the Varden of them all, not to mention the most difficult to work with. A polar opposite from her dragon, she is infamous for her ferocity and almost constant fury, her ill temper being her most notable trait. Nemo is often possessed by the desire to thrash anyone who steps in her way, either with her fists, her hammer, or a slew of colourful language- and being raised at sea, her verbal arsenal, though crude, is quite capable of slaughtering those who stand against her. She speaks quickly, with a thick accent often peppered by insults and oaths, both of which she tosses around like candy, as well as a surprising knowledge of large words that she also uses in her constant bombardments.
Her brash attitude, stubbornness, sharp tongue and hair-trigger temper rarely give people a good first impression of Nemo. Her preference of brute force over peaceful negotiations and lazy grammar give by far the most popular misconception that she is stupid. Though Nemo does indeed have moments when her anger clouds any sort of judgement, conscience, or decency, let alone smarts, she is highly intelligent, which naturally only becomes obvious during her quieter moments, rare as they are. Her greatest strengths are her perceptiveness and intuition. Nemo also has a reputation for being a vicious killer, and though she is indeed vicious, she has a very high sense of honour and loyalty, and will never kill anyone who doesn’t have a weapon in their hands.
Naturally, that rule does not apply to beating them silly. Nemo’s social skills are limited- she spent her entire life with one crew whose hearts she had to win over with cooking, fighting prowess, and holding her draught, not charm and pretty words. She is very bossy, and rarely uses tact when talking to others, insulting and hazing them, or at the very least, being condescending. Her raw determination and spiky personality often leaves others annoyed, clueless, or mildly amused. Nemo’s socializing is best seen in action with her dialogues with Ikehr- she hates the little dragon with a passion, blaming him for her becoming a Rider and all the unwanted attention and responsibilities that came with it.
However, beyond those spikes, Nemo has a worry, an insecurity. In her very early childhood she was treated like nothing, and after her entire crew’s death that she was unable to stop, that feeling of being nothing returned. Even now, as a Rider, she is their weakest, with little to no magical skills and a small dragon. Though no one knows of this but Ikehr, naturally, Nemo’s tigress personality is because she believes that she is unimportant. She shouts because she thinks no one is listening. Another deeply hidden trait is a well of compassion, and a powerful sense of right and wrong that Nemo will whip out when push comes to shove. Though loyal as a dog, if something feels wrong to her, she will refuse to do it no matter what is expected of her. She is also deeply chaste, highly protective of her virtue and willing to murder anyone who threatens it, whether they actually meant to or not.
Nemo’s relationship with Ikehr is difficult, to put it mildly. All her life, she has been self-reliant, with her mind as her only sanctuary, and she feels that Ikehr has invaded it. She never wanted to be a Rider, and though she is not against developing close friendships, she is sorely against having one with him. His placid, phlegmatic nature is totally at odds with her fiery emotional rollercoaster, although his influence does go a long way to smooth over dampened relations made by this rollercoaster. Comparable to a melancholic husband and his nagging wife, it’s considered a good day if one tries to kill the other and doesn’t succeed. However, Nemo has come to respect Ikehr’s high intelligence and stealth abilities, albeit grudgingly. She dislikes dragons as a whole, as well, which is mostly due to her distrust of magic.
History:
Born as Mnemosyne Megara Ramsey, Nemo was the daughter of a wealthy sorceress hailing from far-off northern lands and an unknown father, who, judging from his dark skin was probably from the Hadarac Desert, but Nemo knows nothing more of him. Her mother was in Galbatorix’s services, one of the lower-ranking mages despite her wealth, and had been moved to Teirm. Mnemosyne was mostly ignored by her mother, and had a lonely childhood, until she was six, when her mother had a tragic accident while practicing her spells. The explosion levelled the house, injuring several people, but the sorceress the only fatality. Mnemosyne fled on instinct when the house began to collapse, running through the streets of Teirm without once looking back. Once she had calmed down, she found herself lost, never having been out of the immediate area around her house before.
With nowhere else to go, Mnemosyne wandered the streets for nearly a year, surviving on begging and stealing. On one fine day, she managed to stumble onto Teirm’s docks, where she attracted the eye of two pirates. Though she was filthy and emaciated, the way she carried herself as well as the ruined, though finely made clothes she wore gave her status away as the daughter of a rich man. Mnemosyne was promptly stuffed into a potato sack and dragged onboard the airship Virtuous Harlot, where she was held for ransom. When Mnemosyne explained her story, however, and no one reported a missing girl for several days, the smugglers figured they could use her and she was given a job as a cabin ‘boy’. Her name was shortened to Nemo, due to the hardships of saying ‘Mnemosyne’.
Nemo came alive on Virtuous Harlot. The sea and its endlessness became her home, and she sprouted like a weed, even though she only served as the cook for seven years. After several failed recipes, she managed to put a proper meal together and proved to be a decent cook. It was a refreshing change from maggoty bread for the crew, which earned her a good deal of warmth from them. However, a drawback to being raised on a smuggler vessel was that Nemo received no proper schooling. The captain, Romska Vheren, was the only educated person on board, and between teaching her basic sword fighting, beating her ruthlessly when she misbehaved, and disciplining his crew, he only had little time to teach her math and reading. To this day, Nemo is decent at math and has no trouble with reading, but can write very little besides her own name.
Nemo was first allowed to participate in a raid when she was twelve. Her primary weapon was a sabre, which she was neither gifted nor terrible with, until she was sixteen, when she plundered a massive warhammer and proved to be quite adept at swinging it. With the warhammer, eventually becoming Nemo’s pride and joy, she achieved delightful collateral damage, and it became her primary weapon. However, Nemo’s happy lifestyle took a severe turn when she was twenty-four. The Empire, being rather irritated at Virtuous Harlot’s constant raids, hired and dispatched two powerful mages to wipe them out. The mages were placed on a merchant ship used as bait for the Harlot, and the smugglers took it. The mages tore apart the Harlot’s hull, capturing all those who weren’t able to board the other ship in time, and murdered several pirates, including the captain. In a fit of rage, Nemo managed to kill several people. However, she suffered two broken legs, a concussion, and ended up in the water.
She clung to a piece of the hull and managed to wash up on a tiny island not far from Teirm’s coast, where she lay, hoping for rescue, for two days. She was found by soldiers instead, but was sent to a healer instead of jail. Nemo’s injuries were mended magically, at which point she made her escape. She hid out in the back country for several days, but had nothing besides the clothes on her back and her hammer, and didn’t know what had become of her crewmates. The idea of going to the Hadarac Desert popped into her head, and she headed there, having literally nowhere else to go. But after days of no water and being nearly half-blind from starvation, she began to stumble towards the distant Beor Mountains on a random impulse. She collapsed somewhere in the valley and was found by some dwarves, who were unsure of what to do with her.
Hesitantly, and out of pity, they gave her a little food and water. When Nemo awoke and explained her situation, they were still hesitant, but gave her shelter a little bit away from the Varden’s hideout. However, Nemo quickly befriended them, seeing as both parties had an extensive knowledge and love for weapons that included chopping and bashing. Eventually, Nemo was taken to the Varden, where her mind was probed and she was declared a friend. A place was offered to her in the Varden, and Nemo accepted, eager to choose finding her friends over death. However, she soon grew tired of her life- she was a messenger and delivery girl, and none of her talents were put to use. Besides that, she located none of her crewmates. Nemo felt trapped for many months until one fateful night.
Angry and drunk, she stumbled into Borromeo Castle’s undercroft where, just for laughs, she was let into the egg hatching chamber. Having no clue where she was, she almost tried to make off with the eggs, but was interrupted and forced by Veroan’s Eldunarí to try each and every egg until she passed out. She awoke to find a small, phlegmatic, and duly annoying aquamarine dragon sitting on her chest, declaring that she was his new Rider. Nemo went through an entire ‘Welcome, New Rider’ celebration while hung over and disoriented, and once she was herself again, she regretted everything. She and her dragon were polar opposites, and she didn’t even want to name him. The dragon suggested ‘Ikehr’, meaning ‘visitation’, and she accepted, uncaring of whatever he chose.
Nemo and Ikehr have since been spending their days arguing and confusing Imperial and Vardener alike, as they are currently more of a liability to the Varden than an asset.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Well, basically, all I’ve got going is to deepen her relationship with Ikehr. All they’ve got going so far is dim respect and the sore realization that they’re stuck together no matter what. XD And maybe a bosom buddy for Nemo, since she needs someone to throttle besides poor Ikehr. I don’t think I’m interested in having romance with her, since I consider her married to Ikehr. XD
Threads:
Fisherman's Curse; in Reavstone with Elaniver (Will). Inactive, sadly.
Seeking Employment; in Cithrí with Akand (Akand) and Shadow Sword (Shadow). Totally inactive for good. O.O
A Drunkard's Delusions; in the egg hatching chamber in Aberon with Ikehr (Emma). This is Nemo's successful application to become a Rider. =3
Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of characters. Closed and finished!
Finding Nemo; in Cithrí with Ikehr (Emma), Niar (Angmor), Calia (Lily), and River (Lily). Not really active but it's chugging along... I think?
Unknown Factors (MAIN PLOT); in Teirm with a LOT of characters. Very much active! =D |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Sept 16, 2010 19:32:32 GMT -5
 Name:Pele Lahela Serowë (pell-lay la-hay-lah sehr-oh-way)Age:A little over 750 years Race:Shade Play-By:Christina Hendricks Colour Code:Crimson (DC143C) Real-World Ethnicity:Irish Accent:Irish =D Occupation:Imperial sorceress Allegiance:The Empire, but only officially. In truth, she’s neutral. Appearance:Pele very obviously used to be an elf, although even when she was an elf, her appearance wasn’t similar to others’ of her race. The only things that are really the same are that she has very pale china-white skin from almost never going out into the sun, has long, pointed ears, and moves with grace. However, she isn’t as tall as most of her old kind at 5’11”. Her facial features are also very different- despite her old age, both magic and extensive, agonizing manual care has kept her looking like, to the eyes of a human, a healthy woman in her mid-thirties. Contradicting the normal slanted, cat-like features of most elves, Pele’s face is deceptively soft with low cheekbones, full lips, large eyes, and a small nose, making her seem almost child-like. This is thrown off by her eyes, however, which are a devilish bright yellow, more like a beast’s eyes than a sentient being’s thanks to being a Shade. Standing out starkly against her pale skin, her curly hair is a deep, rich red, and hangs to her lower back. She usually leaves it untied. Pele’s body also doesn’t fall into the normal category for elves. Unlike their slim, lithe bodies, she has a large chest and very thick hips and thighs, which at first leads most people to think she’s overweight. This is due to Pele’s lack of exercise. Pele’s appearance absolutely always depends on her current mood, and she will change it at every mood swing. She spends at least four hours a day arranging her hair and make-up and picking out what to wear. The mirror is her closest companion, and she has several hundred in her home. Pele uses soot, chalk, lead, henna dyes, ground minerals and plants, plant secretions, and many other natural ingredients for her make-up. However, some items she uses, such as mercury and poisonous plants like belladonna, cause her to sometimes get skin infections. She applies it all over her face and body, and the colours match her dress and mood. As for her clothes, Pele always wears skirts and dresses, accompanied with some accessories- she considers a woman in men’s clothing to be strange and uncouth. Her dresses are usually low-cut in the front and back, but the skirts are never above the ankle, as she considers it the highest of vulgarity for a woman to show her ankles. The materials of her dresses are usually made from animals, but not always- black swan feathers, silk, velvet, a wide range of furs, snakeskin, and woven plant fibres are among her favourites. The cut and style of the dresses vary widely, but they are always very elaborate. Pele also has a wide range of colours in her wardrobe- black when she’s depressed, dark blue when she’s thoughtful, deep violet when she’s calm, and so on. Pele never wears light colours, thinking them too aggravatingly happy for her. She makes most of her dresses herself. Whatever she’s wearing, Pele is always well groomed and well dressed, and wouldn’t be caught dead otherwise. Personality:Hot-tempered, businesslike, highly intelligent and bossier than a drill sergeant, Pele Lahela Serowë is the no-nonsense tigress of the Empire’s Shades. Being around Pele can take some getting used to- this irritable lady is ruthlessly efficient and possessed of a remarkably low tolerance for stupidity of any and all kinds. A woman with an amazingly practical nature, Pele is often rendered deeply annoyed or deeply impatient with any behaviour she perceives as being immature, counterproductive, lazy or frivolous. Strangers are often met with a wary gaze and a serpentine tongue that will strike if provoked, and Pele is a deadly expert at infusing a dose of reality into even the most deluded of persons. Pele also exudes an aura of confidence, and tends to own whatever room she walks into. Her strength, determination and iron will can make her rather difficult to work with, as Pele will not easily back down from an idea once she has taken a stance on it. Pele can also be stubborn, implacable, blunt and uncaring of other people’s feelings. However, despite her furious strictness and easily touched nerves, Pele is a powerful sorceress in her own right, but, like her personality, her magic is of a far more practical nature than other Shades’. Startlingly well-versed in a variety of subjects from her adoration of books- approximately half of her manor is stuffed with them- she relies not only on intellect, but also cunning. Dealings with the worst of the worst have made her savvy of men of all types, and she knows how to play the negotiations game despite her apparent lacking of subtlety. Able to look beyond a person’s physical looks, Pele excels at calculating people’s natures, although she often only sees the negative sides. Good in the world and optimism are difficult for her to see, especially in the lower classes- Pele despises lack of hygiene, poor taste in clothing, and peasants in general. Highly vain and obsessive about her looks to the point of unflinchingly suffering from great pain just for the sake of beauty, Pele also demands at least some kind of royal title to be added to her name when addressing her despite having no truly powerful standing in the Empire. She only gives the bare minimum Galbatorix requires of her, and only because she has to, due to her distaste of the Empire and the Varden. Pele isn’t even evil, hovering around a chaotic neutral in terms of morality. She willingly became a Shade and is even able to exude control over the spirits in her body. The likes of violence and physical torture repulse her, and she is much more content to live by herself, undisturbed by anything or anyone, than to make dealings with mortals. Sexuality-wise, Pele realized that she prefers women centuries ago, and even now is deeply devoted to her missing mate Ereshkigal, her being the main reason Pele even became a Shade in the first place. Pele is not shy or ashamed of her orientation, but at the same time takes no note of it, thinking it of little importance. Despite her wild emotions, she is deeply mature and surprisingly wise in spite of her youthful appearance. Pele is also curiously maternal, and tends to treat everyone as if they were her badly-behaved children, which can wear thin on some. Pele is hard-pressed to show affection even if she wants to, never quite succeeding at being loving, and this often makes her irritable as well. Pele is powerful with manipulating the elements and is a little more than average strength with spirits, but is weak in other forms of magic- she has none of the love of nature prominent in all elves, and has difficulty with mindbreaking. History:Pele was born as the daughter of Vivec and Palapye Serowë, the reigning lord and lady of Ília Fëon. Pele had only three living relatives, and they were her father, her mother, and her grandmother, Dibella Serowë. Pele’s childhood was just like any other nobleman’s daughter, spoiled and groomed, except for two things. The first was that she felt disconnected from the other elves socially and culturally. She found it difficult to forge and maintain relationships, and because of this became moody and an outcast. Culturally, she absolutely despised the elves’ traditions and still does. Trees and plants bored her, and she had no problem with eating meat. The love of nature in all elves never once touched her. Alienated, her personality issues grew worse, and her family didn’t really know what to do about it. The second was that, when Pele turned 100, she began being courted by the men of the palace. However, she wasn’t at all interested in any of the men, and it wasn’t because of rebellious adolescence. She wanted a husband, and all of the men were beautiful and charming, but she simply wasn’t attracted to any of them. The relationships she had were few and far between, short-lived, and very minor. Life like this continued until Pele was 124, when Pele was wandering the streets of Ília Fëon when a hooded stranger caught her eye. It was a female elf, and very different from all the others because she was so plain. She had the cat-like features, the slim frame, but a crooked nose, small mouth, thick black hair, tan skin, and other less-than-desirable features made her no real beauty. This fascinated Pele, and they spoke together. Her name was Ereshkigal, and she had recently left Ilirea, driven out for practicing dark magic. Smitten, Pele often visited her. The two became closer than sisters in the few years that followed. Eventually, a few more years later, though Pele tried to keep it secret, she took Ereshkigal as her mate. This sparked gossip and outrage. Pele’s parents demanded she take a male consort- she wouldn’t be able to produce an heir from a woman. Pele only wanted Ereshkigal, which alienated her from her family for a very long time. Eventually, though, about fifty years later, Vivec and Palapye’s physical strength began to wane due to their age and they grudgingly placed Pele as countess. Pele rose to power with Ereshkigal while her parents moved away to Ellesméra. However, a little after that, Ereshkigal offered Pele something far greater than ruling the city. One night, she revealed to Pele that she was actually a Shade, which at first repulsed her, but then Ereshkigal offered to teach her sorcery- the art of summoning the undead souls and demons. Pele fell in love all over again and readily accepted, her new position almost totally forgotten to her. Sorcery was her inner strength, the thing that had been missing from her life. Ereshkigal taught Pele carefully so she wouldn’t overdo it and become a Shade herself. 350 years passed and Pele became very powerful in the school of conjuration. But then, one night, Ereshkigal was attacked. Assassins from beyond Du Weldenvarden, humans, snuck into Pele and Ereshkigal’s bedchamber and fired arrows through her head in her sleep. After screaming with pain, she suddenly disappeared. Pele, infuriated, and thinking that her mate was dead, attacked the assassins. She killed all of them except one, and forced information out of that one. The contract had been given by Ereshkigal’s younger sister. Then Pele dispatched the assassin, swearing revenge. But Pele knew nothing of the lands outside of Du Weldenvarden, and became depressed almost to the point of insanity from losing Ereshkigal. She didn’t look for a new mate- no elf, male or female, could replace the Shade. Pele practiced her sorcery so much that she was constantly drained of energy, and sought refuge in literature. She read everything- dwarven scripts, every elf script that she could get her hands on, but especially human scripts. She learned everything possible about humans from them. She even started reading Urgal writings, when they were invented. One day, about seventy years after Ereshkigal’s death, Pele found a book about Shades. When she read it, she discovered that Shades could only be killed by being shot through the heart. Thrilled, she got the idea into her head that she might be able to somehow contact Ereshkigal by becoming a Shade herself. And so, willingly, she overloaded on the amount of souls she summoned one night. A couple were truly evil, and, drawn to her strength, quickly infested her body. The change was incredibly painful and took several days, but Pele survived. Oddly, she wasn’t very different in personality, although her magic had increased tenfold. Pele searched the spirit realm for Ereshkigal’s souls, and, finding them not there, figured that she had to still be alive. And so, Pele set off into the human world mere weeks after the Fall of the Riders. She merely disappeared from her city, no longer caring for her position there. She expected culture shock, but was actually very pleased with what she found in the Empire. The purity and perfection of the elves filled her with loathing, and she found the humans to be quite a pitiful race. Excited, she took some of her wealth with her and trekked to Aroughs. There, she expected to have a peaceful life while she searched for Ereshkigal, but what she didn’t count on was Galbatorix. Her magic was a beacon when she passed by Urû’baen, and Galbatorix, realizing what she was, sent some of his most powerful magicians to capture her, led by himself. Pele was powerful, but she was quickly overpowered. However, he was oddly kind to her, and allowed her to come along peacefully. There, he presented Pele with two options- she could either serve him, or die. Pele was hardly used to taking orders, but she agreed and let him take her true name, not willing to give up finding Ereshkigal for such a tiny thing as humility. Pele has since participated very little in the events forming across the Empire, but Galbatorix has recently been pushing her to start doing something about the Varden. OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:I’m not sure. She kinda stole Renn’s personality. XD Um, I’d really like to play her a ton since I adore her personality, but development-wise I have no clue. A new girlfriend doesn’t seem palpable since the only one I can think of is Kirjava, and she ain’t her type. XD Maybe getting in touch with her maternal instinct a little more, mwaa. Like… I can totally picture her as a governess or a bodyguard of some sort. I shall ask peoples! Threads:Tour de Force; in Urû’baen with Aelyn (Briae) and Kaldr (Briae). Closed and deadded. XP Stealing Independence; in Feinster with Murtagh (Ashley) and Thorn (Nathan). Inactive, nuu! Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of people. Closed and finished! Flower of Carnage (MAIN PLOT); in the Grassy Plains with a LOT of people. Unfinished and closed. |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Sept 20, 2010 20:39:55 GMT -5
 Name:Remy Kamenwati Age:260 years Race:Elf Play-By:Diane Kruger Colour Code:Dark Orchid (9932CC) Real-World Ethnicity:Afrikaans Accent:Very light Afrikaans Occupation:Double agent for the Varden- scientist of the Twin Lamps; mole in the Tribunal Allegiance:Himself Appearance:The most noticeable thing about Remy, first and foremost, is how incredibly feminine he is. His life rarely entails heavy lifting or vigorous exercise, so he doesn’t have much muscle to speak of. He’s rail thin, especially compared to how tall he is at 6’2”, which doesn’t attest much to the stereotypical masculine figure. He weighs around 140 pounds, and his skin has only a mild tan since most of his work takes place either indoors or at night. His eyes are ice blue and his long, straight hair is very pale blonde, and hangs to his shoulders. Remy usually ties his hair up when on a mission, scraping every strand back, but otherwise leaves it unbound, though it always looks immaculate. Like most elves, his face is clean-shaven. It’s very normal for Remy to be mistaken entirely for a woman, since his features are even more feminine than other elves’. He has a very soft face, with low cheekbones, a small jaw, a sharp nose, and small, almond-shaped eyes framed by high, arched eyebrows. He also has a short chin, drawn lips, long eyelashes, and a tall forehead. That, coupled with the fact that his skin is rarely blemished, gives him an almost unnatural, doll-like appearance. This isn’t helped by the fact that Remy is entirely metrosexual, paying very close attention to his appearance. He wears well-made clothing during the day that is usually intricately designed and always neat. When operating, Remy always wears soft padded leather armour beneath his clothing as protection. Remy is also missing his right arm. It has since been replaced by a prosthetic metal one, hidden with a glove of varying material to hide it from curious eyes. The matching glove that Remy wears on his left hand is to cover the gedwëy ignasia on his palm, which shines despite his dragon’s death. Due to the fact that Remy’s metal arm is useless in physical combat, he can only wield one-handed weapons. The one he uses most often is his sabre. The sword has a large hand guard, which covers the thumb, forefinger, and knuckle, and is made out of brass. The blade is one-sided and curved, making it a very effective slashing weapon. The scabbard is made out of simple leather. Nothing distinguishes it much from other sabres, but Remy holds it close for its effectiveness. Remy also has another sword, one that was forged for him before the Fall of the Riders. It is a purple hand-and-a-half sword, with a yawë symbol both on the sheath and the blade. However, both because it brings back unwanted memories and to stay undetected, Remy has it hidden deep in his basement, where it has been allowed to dull, losing much of its former beauty. Personality:Remy, unlike other elves, did not have the privilege to grow up in the safety of Du Weldenvarden. If he had, he’d likely be just like the rest of them- joyous, nature-loving, and carefree. Instead, Remy is the polar opposite of most elves. He takes life as something that simply needs to be survived, and can’t find any other meaning in it. He’s bitterly negative, and has no qualms about bursting someone’s bubble with a sarcastic comment or two. He’s also very strictly organized, and anything messy makes him jittery and upset. This is shown in his tidy appearance, and completely neat house and work area. Despite how irritated he often seems, it’s actually very hard to really get Remy angry. At the most, he just gets annoyed at anything irritable, especially when he’s mistaken for a woman. Remy works for the Varden as a double agent, but he’s technically neutral. This is because he only sees the Varden as a kind of backing for his own personal goal of taking apart the Empire, and not as anything really important. If the Varden were destroyed, he would simply find another small organization to back him, and it never upsets him much when one of his duties as an Imperial spy require him to sabotage the Varden. He also holds nothing against Galbatorix- having gone through it himself, he understands the pain and madness that comes from the loss of one’s dragon. But though he empathizes with the king, he also understands that his reign needs to end. Remy aided Galbatorix in forming the Empire, and he intends to amend his mistake to earn Vanyali’s forgiveness. When with people, Remy is aloof and doesn’t divulge much about himself, which is necessary both for how top-secret his job is and because he doesn’t find people particularly interesting. He also doesn’t possess half the courtesy that elves are so famous for, and doesn’t hesitate to speak his mind. His werecat companion, Sthenno, is currently his one and only constant friend, since Remy prefers to keep a professional distance away from everyone he works with. Remy also has a huge interest in the unknown magical realms, which he explores in his day job at the Twin Lamps’ laboratories in Galbatorix’s palace. Magic is Remy’s only true interest and his most formidable weapon. Besides magic, Remy was exceptional with a bow, which is now obsolete due to the fact that he is missing his right arm. He is skilled with his sabre, but his true power lies in magic, which is extremely helpful when on one of his more stealthy operations. Remy’s favourite attacks include using elements like lightning, freezing cold, and fire, as well as mental assaults. Remy prefers to ambush his enemies, and attacks in a very calculated way rather than blindly throwing himself into battle. History:Remy’s father, Marduk, was an elf of the lowest sorts. A decade or so before Remy’s birth, he persuaded Cytherea, a noblewoman from Ellesméra, to run away with him. This was done so without Cytherea’s parents’ permission, and she was spurned from her relatives. The two lovers went to Ilirea, now present-day Urû’baen, and settled in a middle-class manor. However, Marduk’s dreams of finding fortune soon went sour, and eventually he abandoned a pregnant Cytherea to try his luck elsewhere. Still paying debts for the manor, Cytherea was unable to keep the house and had to move to a squat little shack at the edge of the city. When Remy was born, she had to reduce herself to prostitution when the money ran out. Her sacrifices kept Remy from having a hungry childhood, although it was a lonely one. The other elves in the city refused to socialize with Cytherea due to her rather undignified job, and the one other elf child in the whole city was kept clear from Remy. Besides that, Cytherea kept Remy away from the human children, as she thought that their mortal stupidity would affect her child. Instead, she taught him the ancient language and elven customs, in the hopes that one day she would have enough money to send him to Du Weldenvarden. However, this dream was cut short when Remy was in his fifties, still a child by elven figuring. Cytherea had a bloody cough, which stopped her from properly satisfying a client. He hurled insults at her back when she left and threatened to take his money back as compensation, prompting her to attack him. The fight left her badly injured, and she was barely able to drag herself home. Remy went out looking for a healer, and was able to get a Rider to tend to his mother. The Rider healed Cytherea’s wounds, but at the same time discovered a withering disease that was untreatable. It caused pieces of Cytherea’s lungs to come apart, which she would then cough up. The Rider gave Remy potions to ease her passing, and left. Remy cared for his mother for several weeks, but she didn’t decide who would care for her son until her death was agonizingly near. Since she still didn’t have the money to get him all the way to Du Weldenvarden, she handed Remy over to an orphanage. Cytherea died shortly after making her decision, and by then was so frail that Remy was able to take her all the way outside the city and bury her near an abandoned elven tower. Then he went home, packed up his things, and went to his new home. Life there was unpleasant at best. Remy and the other children had to slave for the matron while she doted on her own son Jahar so much that he rapidly turned into a very obese child. Remy was also usually beaten by her, both for doing chores wrong and simply because she couldn’t understand the ways of the ‘feckin’ elves’. This was Remy’s unhappy life for fifteen years until one day, while he was doing errands, he stumbled onto a parade in the main streets of Ilirea. It was the annual Riders’ festival, when dragon eggs were paraded through the streets for the children to hold. Remy snuck into the line of children, and, for several hours, simply held different eggs as they were given to him. When the festival was over, he came home late and was accordingly punished. Oddly, though, his spirits were a little higher when he went to bed that night. That night, the eggs were taken back to the Ilirean citadel. One of the eggs, medium purple in colour, fretted for half the night over whether she was making the right decision or not in breaking open. Finally, she rolled off her cushion, hit the floor, and cracked open. The hatchling shook herself, snuck out of the egg room, out of the citadel, and followed a strange mental tug all the way back to a shabby inn near the edge of the city. She crawled up to the second floor window, leaped in, and sat on Remy’s chest until he woke up. Remy, realizing what had happened, quietly packed his few possessions, took his new hatchling, and snuck out of the orphanage. At the citadel, Remy had a few elders woken up and presented his dragon. After a few physical check-ups to see if both he and the hatchling were in decent health, Remy began his training. He named his dragon Vanyali, meaning ‘magic’ in the Ancient Language, and underwent basic training for several years. However, the two of them didn’t get very far fame-wise- Vanyali took several long years to get over a crippling fear of heights, and even then she was afraid of being especially high. Remy simply didn’t have the patience for the knowledge aspect of being a Rider and was slow in learning swordsmanship. However, he was exceptional in magic, and his archery skills were more than decent. Vanyali was also a particularly intelligent dragon, which was how they managed to keep up with the other new Riders. Years later, Remy was hurrying to class when he heard someone talking loudly in the infirmary. Inside, he saw several Riders assembled around a badly injured young man, the one who was talking. His name was Galbatorix, and his dragon had been killed in an Urgal ambush. Remy listened to his story with rapt attention, and, when the elders later refused to give Galbatorix a new dragon, Remy pitied the man. However, Galbatorix beat the odds by getting a hatchling on his own, which Remy thought was only fair, and then murdering an elder, which Remy thought was only right, since there were rumours that the elders were defunct. In truth, Remy started to look up to Galbatorix as a father figure, even though he was much younger than him. This was both because Remy had never had a male role model and because he admired Galbatorix’s ability to do things. Vanyali looked up to him as well, and the two of them joined many other Rider and dragon pairs in pledging themselves to Galbatorix by giving him their true names. At first, the Fall of the Riders was slow to begin, but before Remy even realized it, a full-scale war had started. He and Vanyali flew throughout Alagaësia, attacking human civilians, burning Du Weldenvarden, slaughtering dwarves in their aboveground cities and killing Riders to boot. After some time, Vanyali realized that what Galbatorix was doing was wrong, which she tried to explain to Remy, but he was so bloodthirsty that he became furious with her for thinking so. This caused a rift between them, which only grew as time passed. Eventually, Vanyali was unable to stand Remy’s cold-hearted ways, and changed one thing about herself- her terror of tall heights. She allowed herself to fall from one of the Beors, and didn’t open her wings until she nearly hit the bottom. Changing that one thing about herself slightly altered her true name, and Galbatorix lost his hold on her. Then she shut Remy out from her mind and abandoned him. Unable to explain to Galbatorix how he had ‘misplaced’ his dragon, Remy had his mind invaded. When Galbatorix found out that Vanyali had betrayed his cause, he had Remy locked in the citadel dungeons and sentenced to a long, slow death by torture. Remy suffered for several very long days. However, Vanyali, from her hiding place in the Spine, was racked with Remy’s pain despite shutting him out. Unable to stand it, she flew to Ilirea, broke into the citadel and kidnapped Remy. She tried to escape back to the Spine, but was hotly pursued by Galbatorix’s other Riders. By the time she made it to the Spine, she was exhausted and wounded, and was unable to stop a dragon from ripping out her Eldunarí and knocking her out of the sky. She managed to hold onto Remy’s right arm to stop him from falling, but her claws accidentally severed his arm from his shoulder, and he fell, managing to have his fall broken by the trees. Vanyali crashed onto the forest floor right after him, and managed to heal his wounds before the other Riders sucked her conscience into her Eldunarí, therefore rendering her body dead. Remy had no idea what an Eldunarí was, and still doesn’t, which led him to assume that Vanyali was dead. But the prospect was so horrifically painful that he simply couldn’t bring himself to understand that she was gone. He thought that was he was hallucinating, that he had passed out from losing blood and that the whole battle had just been a dream. Vanyali was just still not talking to him. However, when the ‘fake Vanyali’ didn’t go away, Remy furiously screamed fire spells until the whole area was ablaze and he had to flee deeper into the forest to escape it. When the fires went out, he returned and was pleased to see that the hallucination was gone- along with everything else in the area. He was quite content to wait until Vanyali came back from wherever she was hiding, so he tore some cloth off his tunic, wrapped it around the stump of his right shoulder, and hunkered down to wait. When she didn’t come back for several days, he forsook his elven vegetarianism and ate meat to keep from starving. No one had been sent after him, since Galbatorix assumed that Remy was already dead or would soon die in the Spine. Several weeks later, Galbatorix lost his hold on Remy. This was because Remy had also changed his true name- except unlike Vanyali, who had lost her fear of heights, Remy simply went insane for a long period of time. Since Vanyali refused to come back from her hidey hole, wherever it was, he built a new Vanyali out of wood and stone using magic, declared her the queen and him the king of the Spine, and spent several long years in total dementia. Several years later, when Remy, having kept ‘Vanyali’ in a cave to shelter her from the elements, decided it was high time she got some fresh air and dragged her out during a rainstorm. It was only when she fell apart that the cold realization settled over him that she was well and truly dead. For a short time, Remy just wallowed in his cave and went through several emotions- first, agonizing depression, then icy remorse, and finally a deep, simmering anger. It was around then that Remy realized that he would go insane again if he didn’t do something to keep himself from thinking about Vanyali. So, he stole some proper clothing from a couple of trappers, having only worn rags up until then, and found his way to Therinsford. There, he managed to get a vague understanding of past events and how many years had passed- putting his current age at 189- before the innkeeper he was talking to saw his pointed ears and started screaming about an elf in the Empire. Remy, realizing that something must have happened to make elves unwanted in Alagaësia, fled to the borders of Du Weldenvarden. There, he was very hesitantly accepted into the forest, and settled in Osilon. It had been Cytherea’s dream to see Remy live in Du Weldenvarden, but it wasn’t the utopian life she had always imagined for him. He had to keep himself far under the radar to keep anyone from recognizing him, and the elves were overly suspicious, him being an ‘outlander’ in their midst. Remy only stayed in Osilon for a year or so before he heard about a tiny anti-Imperial rebellion known as the Varden. They had established connections with the elves, who provided them with supplies for their holding in the Beor Mountains. Remy immediately signed up as a caravan guard, eager to escape the scrutiny of his fellow kin. And for a decade, he had the job of guarding supplies as they were ferried back and forth between Du Weldenvarden and the Beors. To him, it was just a way to pass the time. He never had much faith in the Varden’s survival, but when it flourished, he decided to join it for real. He realized that he wanted Vanyali’s spirit to forgive him by putting a stop to the Empire, and the Varden was the way to achieve it. After being inducted and having his mind scanned, he joined a spy training camp. For twenty years, Remy trained in the arts of secret warfare before being sent to Urû’baen as a sleeper. As there were several Imperial elves serving Galbatorix, he went with his natural appearance. Since he was an inactive spy, he set about making a life for himself. With money granted by the Varden, he bought himself a middle-class house in the city and then went to the palace to get himself a job. At first, he was terrified that Galbatorix would recognize him. However, Galbatorix kept himself shut in his private chambers day and night, so Remy eventually quit worrying. He went for a job that fit his talents, and joined the Twin Lamps, an organization of Imperial magicians that studied time travel, levitation, resurrection, and other mostly unknown realms of magic. Remy remained a Varden sleeper for twenty-five years, during which he got enough background information to suitably pass as an Imperial elf. Then, when he was 184, he joined one of the Empire’s many leagues of spies, the Tribunal, specializing in counter-espionage and ‘taking care’ Varden spies. After Remy’s induction into the Tribunal, his life was mostly uneventful until about ten years later. Having kept his day job at the Twin Lamps, one of the experiments required physical information about werecats. A woman who worked in the dungeons below the palace, a Dr. Ramakrishna, happened to have a werecat available for a physical examination, so Remy was sent to study the animal. He took her from her cage, took her to an operating room, and took several harmless tests and notes. However, thinking that the werecat was just a half-intelligent animal, he left his mind unguarded, and received a nasty surprise when the curious werecat invaded his head. She found out everything about him- Vanyali, his ties to the Varden, and his spying- and presented Remy with a deal. If he busted her out of the dungeons, she would keep his secrets safe. If not, she would yap about him until he got caught and sentenced to the dungeons too. Remy grudgingly agreed and snuck her out of the dungeons, out of the palace, and dumped her into Urû’baen’s streets to fend for herself. However, she seemed to realize that she was unable to survive on her own, so she caught up to Remy as he walked away and demanded to stay with him. He shook her off and went home for the night. Unfortunately, the cat came back the very next day, sneaking into Remy’s room in the morning and pinching his nose until he woke up. Again, the werecat threatened Remy about giving away his secrets if he didn’t let her stay. Remy, in turn, threatened to kill her if she didn’t leave and keep her mouth shut, but then realized there would be no way of catching her if she let his secret out. So he gave the werecat, who introduced herself as Sthenno, her own room in the house. She has lived with him since. OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:Well, due to the huge character issues I’ve had with Sthenno, I’m not sure I’ve got anything going between him and her besides a grudging friendship. However, Remy does have an entertaining crush on Don’s character Ava Marsados, so I guess I’m focussing on that for now. =) Eventually, I want him to find the Eldunarí of his dragon, Vanyali, but I’m naturally not planning on a happy reunion. At least, not for very long, MUAHAHAHA. And he’s got no family, so, that’s it for now. ^^ Threads:Breaking the Line (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of characters. Unfinished, as it never got off the ground. The Rebel Leader; in Aberon with Castox as the NPC ‘Wraith’ (Emma), Ava (Don), Nasuada (Renea), Tasalae (Renea), Tasia (Renea), and Kano (Kano). Inactive. =( Ulterior Motives (MAIN PLOT); in Feinster with a LOT of characters. Closed and finished! Awkward Times Call for Awkward Measures; in Aberon with Sthenno (Emma) and Ava (Don). Active and going strong. ^^ Flower of Carnage (MAIN PLOT); in the Grassy Plains with a LOT of people. Unfinished and closed. |
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Post by Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress on Sept 21, 2010 0:27:25 GMT -5
Name:
Major Ren’ichi Kichirou- goes as ‘Lady Renn Kuran’
Age:
Twenty-eight
Race:
Human
Play-By:
Kelly Hu
Colour Code:
Silver (C0C0C0)
Real-World Ethnicity:
Japanese
Accent:
Light but noticeable Nihonese (Japanese) accent, but speaks the common tongue well
Occupation:
Major in the Imperial army; mediator; bodyguard
Allegiance:
The Empire
Appearance:
Renn is often a shock to look at for most people. Being from Nihon, a land very far to the east, her race has developed entirely different characteristics than the blonde and blue-eyed Alagaësians. This is noticeable in her body just as much as her face- she isn’t the tallest, only 5’6”, and weighs about 100 pounds. She has small breasts and slim hips, not giving her much form, and making her seem rather frail at first glance, unless she happens to take out her sword. The only similarity to western women that Renn has is her skin- in both Alagaësia and Nihon, only those who work extensively out in the sun have dark skin, giving rise to the belief that tanned people are all of peasant stock. Because of this, Renn keeps her skin carefully pale, rarely going into the sun and religiously carrying a parasol when she does.
Renn’s face is often what draws most attention- her face is so different from western women that she normally hides it behind a fan when outside. She has high cheekbones and a tall forehead, giving her a heart-shaped, if flat face. Her lips are thin, and her nose is flat, but they suit her face shape. Her eyes are deep brown and shaped like small almonds. They are accented by short eyelashes and upswept thin, dark eyebrows. Renn’s face is framed by thick, straight black hair, which hangs to her mid-back.
Renn doesn’t pay much mind to the shape of her face, but she does pay a huge amount of attention to how she looks on a daily basis. During the day, she only dresses in traditional Nihonese clothing, mostly made by herself due to the rarity of merchants procuring such garments. Renn wears wooden sandals that are raised on platforms called zōri, coupled with split-toe socks called tabi, which are very difficult to walk in for the untrained. However, her most notable clothing is the kimono, which is like a T-shaped, straight-lined robe with collars and full-length sleeves that are typically wide, and hems that fall to the ankles. They are usually so thick that they cause Renn’s female figure to entirely disappear. Kimono are wrapped around the body, always with the left side over the right, and secured by a wide belt called an obi, which is tied at the back. Renn’s kimono range from very casual to very formal depending on the occasion, but the sleeves are typically long, showing her status as a young and unmarried woman.
Renn’s clothing is not the only oddity in her appearance- her hair and makeup are done exquisitely as well. Her hair is always swept up in a high chignon, a kind of bun, and decorated with elaborate hair combs and pins which are often very large and conspicuous. Renn’s makeup consists of a thick white base made of wet powder that she paints over her face and neck. Because her teeth often look yellow in contrast, Renn lacquers them black, making them ‘disappear’ into her open mouth. She uses black kohl to outline her eyes and eyebrows, and red pigments to paint her lips, but never her cheeks.
Renn also has some permanent makeup. Done in coloured ink with searing iron needles, these tattoos are all symbols of her eastern culture. On her back is a very colourful, elaborate painting of a woman called Amaterasu Omikami, who is a sun deity of long-gone Nihonese pagan worship. On her arms, going from shoulder to forearm, are two dragons, one white to symbolize purity and one red to symbolize power. Since eastern dragons are visualized differently than western dragons, they are long and snake-like with no wings. Renn also has an orange koi fish on her right thigh that symbolizes courage, and finally on her left thigh is a white lotus flower, symbol of her country. Renn, however, never shows these tattoos to anyone, as in Nihon, only prostitutes openly show their tattoos in public.
Renn never goes anywhere without some kind of weapon. They range from mere hairpins- demure by day, but effective tiny daggers and lock picks by night- to more ornate Nihonese weapons. These include the tanto, which are like double-sided daggers, katana, which are swords but much thinner, lighter, and more carefully made than western broadswords, and wakizashi, which is like the katana but shorter. Renn has a wide range of these weapons and holds them all dear to her. As opposed to sharp things, Renn also has an affinity for poison, although she doesn’t use it as often as her swords.
Personality:
Renn is a stoic, quiet, and collected woman with a serious demeanor. She has a very sharp sense of humour, usually expressed by snapping back at catty remarks. She is referred to, by both her father and others, as the model of a perfect soldier- strictly disciplined and extremely rational. She rarely relaxes when on the job and is usually tasked with keeping her colleagues on track with a stern hand and demanding nature. Very disciplined, strict, rigid, and even a little mean, Renn takes her work seriously and is almost never seen ‘dropping formalities’, even with those who are most intimate to her. She’s not prone to public displays of affection, preferring to show her feelings through more subtle ways. Renn is the epitome of ‘tough love’, demanding excellence from those she respects or considers important.
Renn never uses her feminine wiles- not only was she never trained to use them, but they simply never occur to her. Instead, she is highly imperious in her mannerisms, almost cold and detached, and very calculating. Reticent, she doesn’t speak unnecessarily or express her feelings often through words, but reveals her most of her thoughts through nonverbal communication, with trademark sharp looks and rare, subtle smiles. She is a patient woman, although ignorance and stupidity often wear at it, as she, in her logic and calculation, is very firm in the belief that her ideals are the clearest and most intelligent paths to take. She accepts responsibilities for her actions herself, rather than placing blame or burden on another. Though she dislikes death, she will kill without hesitation if it ensures the safety of others. Renn never takes out her katana when she doesn’t mean to use it.
Renn is very honourable, and will react strongly when people are dishonest to her or when she herself breaks the most precious of her ethical codes. When in deep hurt or anger, she is completely void of all emotion, and entirely militaristic and unfeeling of her actions, as Renn does not know how to deal with loss. The use of a weapon is almost therapeutic to her, and her sword was her closest friend when she lost her mother and killed her husband. Emotions in general bother Renn, as her upbringing taught her that they are baggage and highly dangerous. She stays away from emotion entirely, preferring cold detachment, always bearing grief and physical pain with a stiff upper lip.
History:
Ren’ichi Kichirou was not born in Alagaësia. The land of birth she holds so near and dear to her is Nihon, a small collection of islands far to the east that was the Riders’ greatest trading partner before the Fall. However, when Galbatorix took over, Nihon’s economy collapsed and the country suffered greatly for it. Now run by ruthless warlords that controlled small city-states and constantly fought one another, the violence and unnecessary death was enough incentive for Captain Kaname Kichirou to quit the army while he was ahead and move to a small seaside village to spend the rest of his life as a fisherman in quiet contemplation of the wrongs he’d committed in his lifetime.
However, the wealth he’d accumulated from his time in the military drew the attentions of Hisao and Midori Kuran, two down-on-their-luck merchants who wanted their daughter Akemi to marry someone with dignity. Akemi was an attractive, but headstrong woman who’d taken up swordfighting in the interest of self-defence after her parents’ last pennies ran out. However, in a country where tranquility and obedience were desired in a woman, Akemi’s tomboyish traits made her very difficult to marry off. However, Kaname merely wanted to have a small, loving family, and upon meeting Akemi he found her very attractive, and she him. Though they hardly knew each other when they were married, they learned to truly love and respect each other over the following years.
Ren’ichi, or Rennah, as her childhood nickname was, was born about four years after Kaname and Akemi were married. Akemi, as it turned out, had fertility issues. She birthed no less than five babies in her lifetime, but only Rennah came out alive as well as survived infancy. And even then, she was very weak as a child, which spurred Akemi to start training her in the art of combat. Kaname was initially disapproving of the idea, as he didn’t want Rennah to go unmarried as long as Akemi had, but when the girl turned out to be an exact replica of her headstrong mother, he gave in. From ages three to ten, Rennah only spent time with her mother. From training with the katana to learning how to dress like a noblewoman, she was an avid student. She never played with other children of the village, only followed Akemi around everywhere like a shadow. She held her mother in the highest possible regard.
And so, she was truly heartbroken when her mother died. Akemi defied a warlord’s interests when Rennah was ten years old, causing him to lose his temper and attack her. Though Akemi held her own and severely injured him, only suffering minor wounds herself, his men deposited her in a back alley where she lay helpless for three days. By the time a pair of children found her, her wounds were infected and festering. She was immediately rushed home, where Kaname spent half his fortune on medicines and healers to save her life, but it was too late. She died of blood poisoning a week later. Kaname was so enraged that he visited the warlord’s home where he lay injured and killed him in his sleep. After that, he decided that there was nothing for him in Nihon. He took his wife’s most treasured possessions, Rennah, and anything else he could carry, and burned his home to the ground. Then he loaded everything into his dragon boat, a Nihonese sailing vessel, and sailed off into the dead of night with his daughter.
They spent an entire year at sea. Kaname just wanted to get away from everything, and so sailed straight west for months on end, only stopping at port once a month for supplies. None of the lands he stopped at seemed suited to his tastes, so he kept heading towards the setting sun. Rennah spent this whole year in deep depression, both from her mother’s death and being torn from the only home she ever knew. She spent most of her time on her father’s ship either sleeping excessively or staring out at the sea in deep contemplation. They might have gone on like that for years more, but one night when Kaname was tired and the sky was foggy, his navigational skills failed him. He crashed into the jutting underwater rocks of the Spine when trying to make port in Teirm. Though the ship managed to make it to shore and both he and Rennah escaped with their lives and most of their possessions, it was no longer seaworthy in any possible use of the word, leaving them stranded.
Distressed, Kaname headed for the nearby lights of Teirm for help, but it was a disaster. He didn’t speak a word of the common tongue, and most sailors hadn’t seen a Nihonese in decades, let alone communicated with one. Through hand gestures, he managed to get them to understand that he was shipwrecked and in need of repairs, but when men inspected the ruins of his boat, they were unable to fix it. It was of foreign make and material. On top of that, Kaname hadn’t salvaged enough goods to buy a new ship. However, he did have the money to buy a tiny shack on the waterfront. Kaname was convinced that his ship had crashed in Teirm for a reason, and was determined to make a living in this strange new land. Eager to ascend in the Imperial hierarchy, he joined the army as a recruit.
Rennah, with no one to care for her while her father was away at training, took up swordfighting and martial arts again. In order to combat her depression, she trained maniacally at it. As the next few years passed, Kaname, with his previous war experience, rose quickly in the ranks of the Imperial army, and he and Rennah gradually began to move to more wealthy lodgings. He learned the common tongue and Alagaësian runes, and taught them to Rennah when he returned home from his excursions. Rennah, eager to pursue knowledge, became an avid fan of reading. She never played with other children or left her father’s home. She divided her time between chores, combat training, and studying Alagaësia and its customs, and joined the army herself when she was sixteen. Eventually, by the time she was nineteen, her father had made a name for himself when he was promoted to a full-fledged colonel. He now earned enough money for them to move to Urû’baen.
The gossip over a complete foreigner becoming so prestigious in the army attracted the attention of Lord Devon Karin, a very well-to-do member of the Imperial court. With his fingers lodged in trade throughout the Empire, both legal and illegal, he was respected and feared. But he wanted more. He had yet to be married, but none of the women of the Imperial court interested him. However, Kaname Kichirou, who was clearly mowing through the competition and climbing the Empire’s pecking order, had a young and unmarried daughter. Devon took it upon himself to find Kaname and ask him in person for Rennah’s hand in marriage. Kaname was very pleased, knowing that his daughter could get little better than a lord for a husband. He accepted, and the marriage was set to take place when Rennah turned twenty-one.
Rennah was actually quite thrilled with the arranged marriage, as she had been pining to become a noblewoman for some time. However, this meant she would have to sacrifice a lot of herself. Trained women weren’t the most eligible as wives, so she put her katana away, left the army, and instead focussed on Nihonese tradition. She spent the next two years painstakingly teaching herself how to dress properly, do her hair, and walk like a queen, in order to make herself as presentable as possible. Despite how eager Rennah was to become a part of Alagaësian culture, she didn’t want to give up her heritage. And so, the day she turned twenty-one, she married Devon, becoming Lady Ren’ichi Karin.
Ren’ichi was joyous of her elevated position. She was in possession of real power, or at least she so assumed. Devon doted on her for the fame she gave him as well as her beauty, but didn’t feel true love or respect for her, the effects of which Ren’ichi felt strongly when he refused to give her any power. Instead, he gave her things like ladies-in-waiting and fine foods, which some women might have liked, but not Ren’ichi. Determined to acquire power for herself, she busied herself with trying to get Devon an heir, which did get her into his good books for some time. However, she failed and failed again to get pregnant, and finally, when she succeeded almost two years later, she had a miscarriage within two months. After being examined by healers, she found that she had inherited her mother’s child-bearing abilities. Except where Akemi had managed to birth a healthy daughter, Ren’ichi was entirely barren. Her womb was too small to safely carry a baby, and even if it did survive birth, it would be compressed and paralyzed.
Ren’ichi was shattered, as the healers believed that the cause of her affliction was a curse by the gods for bringing a commoner, and a foreign one to boot, into nobility. Devon was completely repulsed by his wife’s infertility, and turned away from her. Ren’ichi was horrified not only by her inability to do the most necessary of all human functions, but by the fact that she relied on it entirely to get anywhere in life. The duty of a noblewoman was to birth heirs, and, failing that, she had nothing. Devon completely ignored her from then on, and Ren’ichi began to grow bitter. Trapped within the confines of his household, and with her father being the only person who cared for her, she threatened to snap.
And when she was twenty-four, only three years after her initially happy marriage to Devon, she did. Ren’ichi returned home from a court banquet one night to find her husband with not one, but two mistresses sleeping naked and peaceful with Devon. Her normal lack of emotion was completely waylaid by rage, and Ren’ichi promptly went to the closet, removed her katana, and approached the bed, slashing at the sleeping trio. They awoke, and Ren’ichi spewed venom and fury at them, purposely making them beg for their lives. Then she slaughtered Devon, chased down his mistresses and murdered them too. Once the anger had passed, Ren’ichi calmly wiped the blood off herself and her sword, made up her face, went outside and turned herself in to the nearest guardsman, hiding nothing of what she’d done.
Ren’ichi did not regret what she had done to Devon, but she knew she had to atone for what she had done to the two girls he’d been with. She also knew that she had to pick between execution, or to live the life of a raggedy fugitive. She chose execution. She was promptly jailed and sentenced to death within a week. Urû’baen ate up the news of the triple murder, mariticide, and death of a lord. On top of all this, the murderess had willingly turned herself in. This news reached the ears of Galbatorix, who was fond of visiting his prisoners. He went to see Ren’ichi in her cell, where she allowed him to enter her mind. He scanned her, seeing her ambition, honour, and calculating logic, among other things, and found he liked what he saw. On top of that, Ren’ichi’s father Kaname was begging Galbatorix to pardon her. The king offered Ren’ichi an ultimatum- serve him and earn her pardon that way, or be executed. Ren’ichi chose to serve her king as her atonement, and to live for the Empire.
She was freed and given Devon’s manor, although his merchandise had been given to his brother in Dras-Leona. However, Ren’ichi did not want it. She changed her name to Lady Renn Kuran- a mixture of her childhood nickname and her mother’s last name- for two reasons. First, it was far easier for the Alagaësians to pronounce than Ren’ichi Kichirou, and second, she wanted to assume a new mantle for herself. She removed all memory of Devon, becoming a diplomat for Galbatorix, mainly a bodyguard and mediator between arguments. She took up combat training again and rejoined the army, as her superiors found it useful for when negotiations failed, and studied the art of diplomacy. Renn has since spent her days serving Galbatorix and training, eager to rise to power without having to be a consort.
OOC Notes and Ideas for Future Plots:
Basically, I’d like Renn to learn that emotion isn’t something OMG HORRIBLE AND IMMATURE, as well as maybe loosen up a little, but still retain her prickly attitude. XD And she needs some friends. I’d like to focus on the friends part, especially since she doesn’t hold any particular vendetta against the Varden, so she won’t attack Vardeners on sight. So... somebody poke her! XD
Threads:
What Happens When You...; in Dras-Leona with Don (Don) and Alcarin (Cles). Inactive. D=
Early Mornings; in Urû’baen with Pravus (Talon) and Arwen (Kyou). Inactive. XP
Incursus (MAIN PLOT); in Dras-Leona with a LOT of people. Active! |
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