@Mae@Melo So I wanted to ask... If I understood correctly, our soul-mate will be determined by you guys and if we decide to opt out of the Reroll no other character relationship will be predetermined, is that correct?
P.S. And OMG, am I the oldest yet again And I thought I toned it down with thirty
@MeloI'm usually the oldest or one of the oldest characters in all my RP's. It doesn't feel right for me to go bellow 30 though So I guess will see where it goes
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E —————————————————————————————
Ursine was born cursed, with the scar of evil laid bare on her face. Her fellow tribesmen told stories about her to their children: “stay away from the girl with a wrong face, she will infect you with devilry when her blind eye meets yours.”
She should have inherited the genes of her mother, smooth skin and flushed. Instead, her soft cheek was rough and misshapen with the twisted indents and ridges of the deformity. Pink lips that may have been able to smile can now only form a bent hellish grin, the tissue so damaged on her left that the lips can barely move except to scowl. The only untouched feature is her sharply pointed nose and the flecks dotting her face.
As a child, her right eye was considered the perfect shape – when the left one was covered – but now the wide wondered eyes are hollow, sunken, purple bruises beneath. The soft hazel color which held sensitivity, like a puppy, was a stark contrast to the eerie, unshaken eye of her other: her blind eye. She is not completely blind in that eye though; she sees the vague outlines of things, dancing darkness and shapes that scare her more than the complete darkness ever could. Ursine doesn’t like seeing, sight is corrupted and grotesque.
Without her scar, Ursine would be pretty – not exceptionally beautiful, but an average attractiveness that felt like home. Her body is willowy and tall, being five feet and nine inches in height. Her figure moves awkwardly, foreign under her skin, and there’s a disjointedness to her movements that speak levels of her insecurity. Yet, it’s endearing in the way a clumsy friend is endearing. Ursine’s thick red hair is twined to frame her face, the thick two braids hanging about her navel. Underneath the snow sunlight, the red hair seems golden and heavenly, but is oily and demented in the dark.
Like most of the Ursidae clansmen, Ursine wears furs and leather in the winter time. She enjoys the comfort that being held in a bear’s skin brings her, the feeling of rightness and origin. Ursine detests the warmer climates though, for she has to shed her bear and wolf fur to wear deer hide and woven fabric. It feels uncomfortable and exposed on her skin. She wears very little jewelry, preferring simple things over material jewels, though she enjoys looking at golden bands and transparent gems.
Ursine was born with a curse: her clansmen say there is an evil hiding in her scar, but in truth, Ursine was born with a very different curse. When Ursine uses her powers, the scar she was born with stretches and replaces her smooth skin. The pathway begins with her face, moving outwards until her scalp and chin are covered, then travels down her neck and shoulders like sticky strawberry jam trickling down her body.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y —————————————————————————————
Ursine never had many friends to play with, so she sought other things to occupy her time. She spent the day following her father around as he oversaw his tribesmen’s work; at every chance she had, Ursine asked a question. When she wasn’t badgering her father with how to skin a deer or what food can grow in the winter, Ursine would wander on the outskirts of the encampment. She would scrape bark off of maple trees to see what was underneath, unwisely lick the sap of evergreens, and dissect a skittering bug with the edge of her nail. There was a drive inside of her, a hunger for understanding the world around her, to absorb the knowledge of nature. Her curiosity was powerful and she has overcome fears because she wanted to learn them.
Her curiosity does not end with objects and things. Like a prodding child, Ursine wants to know the inner thoughts of man. Those that are misunderstood are precious knowledge to her and Ursine enjoys their company. Maybe it is because she herself is mistaken for someone she is not and so she treats those she comes across with compassion. Ursine is not only sympathetic, but empathetic: she feels their pain and misery like it is her own. Both of her ears are useless if she is not listening to a companion; she likes listening to others, it helps her see them as a person. Maybe that is why she is so quiet, so she can listen to the people around her.
Compassion can be a blindfold as much as her ears can be an eyeopener. Ursine is an optimist and dislikes the idea that there is evil in the world. In her mind, Ursine only sees good people that may do immoral things to achieve righteousness in the world. It’s naïve of her to think so, dangerously naïve. Because she sees the good in everyone, the unethical can take advantage of her and bend her with lies and betrayal. She is a bearskin on the ground, free for all to walk on and rest – she will bring comfort to those who abuse her. Ursine will never face the dark side of the world, but would rather hide in willful ignorance.
The circumstances in which she ends up in through her innocence have given her a martyr complex. She allows herself to suffer under the hands of others because she believes her suffering will release the suffering of others. By sacrificing herself and self-esteem, Ursine concludes that she will understand more since she has gone through tough times as well. Yet, in the night, Ursine pities herself for having such a duty that she has pushed upon herself. She prays for a god that will ease the hurt of the outsiders so she may be consoled as well.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y —————————————————————————————
Ursine’s mother was beautiful and her father was considered one of the handsomest of the tribe – his position of power as the chieftain certainly affected such judgment, though. Everyone expected Ursine, daughter of Ursus, heiress to the Ursidae Clan, to be just as striking and unique. However, Ursine came out of the womb with a defective eye and a mark that could only mean the work of demons. Being born with such a scar could not mean anything good to the Ursidae Clan.
Ursine was considered a bad omen to the tribe, an accursed charm that would bring misfortune to those around her. Ursus’ brother and wife begged him to leave the child in the forest, feet bound, as a mercy for their tribe. Others suggested that killing her themselves would change their luck completely. Ursus was a strong man who believed in protecting his tribe first and foremost, but his paternal instincts were stronger. He denied their pleas and went to bed, cradling Ursine in his arms.
This was how Ursine grew up; an ominous mark on the clan and a foreboder of ill will. When she walked among her people, they cowered away and made the hand sign to ward off evil. To entertain herself, Ursine shadowed her father – when she was with him, the others wouldn’t dare scowl at her – and explored her surroundings. As she grew older and people became accustomed to her presence, she shadowed them as well and eavesdropped on their conversations.
Eventually, Ursine became a confidant of many of her fellow tribesmen. Tribesmen who thought themselves different, misunderstood, wrong. She sat quietly and listened to their thoughts, consoled them as they cried, and caressed their face until they slept. Publicly, Ursine was disregarded as the tribe’s pariah; but in the night, she was their little blessed secret.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Sobeki ⥥ Goddess of the Scarred, Predatorial, and the Misunderstood ⥥ Female ⥥ Polyamorous-Asexual ⍚
<Snipped quote by Journal of Ammit>
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E —————————————————————————————
Ashen gray skin that feels like leather on fingertips, clammy and cold to the touch, stretches across a thin frame, clinging to every fissure and fold of bone and muscle. Sobeki’s skin is blemish free, except for the white dip of paint between her brows which shines like snakeskin and feels like the scale of a crocodile. Hair, small cobweb thin wisps, frames her face like dead strands on a corpse. The majority of her locks are snagged in branches and roses gold, tangled around the decorative items until it appears almost as a deliberate artistic chignon du cou. Sobeki has lips that always seem to frown, a flushed pink color dancing at the crevice in which her lips meet. Her lips are situated under a beak-like nose, strong and pointed, regal and intimidating. The most daunting of her appearance is her eyes. Wide, doe-like eyes that are as white as milk; like the eyes of a cataracted dog.
Upon her lithe and graceful frame, Sobeki dresses herself in dull sheening gold that embroiders her dark clothes and wraps around her boney fingers and wrist. Cloth of black and dull gray swathe her full six feet and six inches height. The drag of her robes on the floor disturbs the air and creates a rattling dissonance, a snake slithering on floorboards sound. Her feet are never heard, only that damn sliding sound.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R —————————————————————————————
҉ Predatory animals, particularly wolves and crows. ҉ Protection for outliers. ҉ Consoling the lonely. ҉ Patron of predatorial animals, misunderstood people, and those with wounds that won't heal.
҉ Blind and highly intelligent. ҉ Gentle and compassionate. ҉ Impassive mask, but an emotional soul. ҉ Trusting and possessing a soft heart.
[ ⍚ ] F O R M A T I V E M O M E N T S I N H I S T O R Y —————————————————————————————
Sobeki was not born, she was created, from splinters and scars and blood.
Her creator was many things: a hunter, a woodworker, a miner, and a mortal. His life disappeared before his eyes as he worked until his nailbeds were wet and his skin pruned. Yet, he did not know why he slaved. There was no family for him to feed; there was just him and the howl of wolves, feathers of crows, and whispers of spiders.
The sounds drove him mad, taunted him with their companionship while he suffered in his own silence. He heard their cries of joy when they feasted on a deer, the resounding call of mate to mate, the roars of bears as they played by the brook. He was alone and haunted.
Her creator was not of right mind when he pieced her together, limb by limb.
It was a midsummer night, when the predators woke from slumber and prowled the woods again. They would not stop taunting him with their discordant music, so he left his hut that night with an ax. He slayed every beast he laid his eyes on, splitting their fur and bones with the humble blade of a worn-down ax. He collected the limbs in a rucksack, blood marking his bloody path.
The sounds stopped, but he was still lonely. The creator wanted a wife, to share the last of his years with, and he took the rotting flesh and bones of his prey to create one.
He gave her the torso of a bear, with the legs and arms chopped off and placed in the fire. With the heart of a bear, she would be a ferocious but loving woman. He twined the bodies of spiders and cobweb into thin arms, silver strands streaked with gore. With the arms of spiders she would move elegantly and mesmerizing. He stuffed snakes with the bones of a cougar and affixed them as her legs. She would glide upon this land, unearthly and beautiful. Her head was that of a crow, sewn into the fur of her torso. She would be intelligent, willing to teach him and guide him to enlightenment. Lastly, he plucked the eyes of a wolf – damaged with cataracts – and pushed them into the crow’s sockets. With these eyes, she would never see her dying, repulsive husband.
He named her the most beautiful name he’s ever heard – Sobeki.
Her creator carried her husk around his hut and the woods, talked to her empty shell and fed her the infested meat of her body’s brethren. When he gazed into her eyes, he did not see the emptiness of a doll, but saw a beautiful glowing image that made him cry. At night, he held her rotting amalgamation close to his chest and sobbed her name like a prayer.
She was with him with every step, in body but not in mind.
On his death bed, he held the broken bodies of spiders as he twisted his fingers in hers. Her creator choked back his tears as he stared at his creation, with only love in his heart. With his dying breath, he whispered “Sobeki.”
The milky eyes of a wolf blinked and then closed. For months, they rotted together in silence, until flesh peeled from Sobeki’s bones and fur slipped from her ribcage. Underneath the hideous creation, Sobeki opened her milky eyes once again and standing on her feet, she left.
Sobeki was created from the scars of predators and the misplaced love of an old man. She was always watching him and she understood his pain.
He could shape her with the bones of the dead, attribute her with traits of godliness and beauty, love her with everything he had, but it would not bring back the woman he once loved. Instead, she became a sickly, walking cadaver; a misshapen, repulsive deity not meant to exist.
Sobeki is a kind god, a loving god. She has no wrath, no anger, but patience and understanding. That is what she does for those who are misunderstood: she understands.
In the night, she seeks those who need her – need her in the way her creator needed her. She consoles them, she embraces them, shows them the love that she has to give in the way only she can. Sobeki cannot see the ugly that others see, she cannot judge one of things she is ignorant to, so she holds them as they explain.
Sobeki is not a mother, she is not an avenger – she is a counselor, an advisor. When she presses her hand against a mortal’s chest, she feels the same thump, thump, thump that is in hers. She eases their minds and provides companionship to those who have none.
Sobeki knows of their scars, can feel them in their heart and body, but Sobeki sees more than scars on them. She sees won battles and pain that can be lifted.
Sobeki is a friend, a lover, a guardian.
The gods are discontent with Sobeki. An amalgamation, a jumble of flesh and bones and ungodliness. The Pariahs of Ammit follow her religiously, pray to her in their moments of loneliness, worship a monster who was not meant to be. Sobeki is the error of an old mad man and her touch on the earth is tainted, repulsive.
They cast her away as punishment – penalty for associating her sacrilegious body with their names. Sobeki is sentenced to live in a cave, chained to a rock and stare at the dark walls for as long as they see fit.
But Sobeki is familiar with the darkness and the cold. It is all she has ever known and Sobeki lives quietly for three years in her hole. To punish herself for her wishful thinking, Sobeki subjected herself to three years of meditation without food, drink, or sleep. Sobeki reaches for inner truth until she finds the light in the eyes of her familiars.
Sobeki can see for the first time through the sharp balls of a crow, the wide eyes of a wolf, the eight beads of a spider. Sobeki can see the world and how it is tarnished. Sobeki does not know the tainted. She only knows the sweet embrace of odd ones, the whispered stories of her pariahs, the love she gives and receives.
For a hundred days, Sobeki presses her knees into the rocks and bashes her head against the cave wall. She pushes the unknown from her mind with pain and stupidity until she no longer finds the eyes of her predators, living in blissful ignorance.
Sobeki is starkissed, though she did not expect it. She never met the one who her soul belonged to; perhaps, Sobeki did not want to meet them, either. Sobeki only had love to give to her followers, only sought to please those that are misguided and ostracized. There was no room for a soulmate in her heart when she was giving it to the ones who needed it.
Sobeki was torn from her loves, her followers, when the dark gods cast their damned spell. Bitterness enveloped her heart as her memories slowly faded from her mind. It was wrong of them; some of them were misunderstood, Sobeki saw it as she fell, but she did not care in the least. Not when they tore her from those who needed her most.
Sobeki felt a heartbreak that she never felt before as she melted and folded into another being, a mortal being.
She was too late to give her love to Ammit, but she cannot be late for the pariahs. Sobeki will make her way to them, even if she has to enter that ungodly cave once more. She will find them, in this life and the next.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T —————————————————————————————
Eavesdropping: Ursine has spent her whole life eavesdropping on others to learn more about them. She has perfected the art of listening to a conversation while appearing uninterested and deaf to it.
Memory: Ursine was born with eidetic memory. She is able to easily remember events and recall past conversations. While there is much use for this, Ursine typically uses it to comfort those she advises at night.
Sewing: When bored, Ursine has to do something with her hands. Because of this, at a young age, Ursine would help her mother stitch to keep herself busy in the idle moments. Eventually Ursine has become rather good at it and she tends to stitch when she is feeling lonely or angry, as it gives her something to do.
Hunting: Ursine spent much of her time shadowing her father. He took it upon himself to teach her what he knew as she followed him around. One of these things was hunting: he taught her how to track, how to kill her prey, and how to skin them properly to feed the tribe.
Dual Tomahawks: Ursine's preferred weapons are two tomahawks that she carries on her sides. She is deft and agile when using them, able to aim and throw her tomahawks from long distances as well as engage in close combat.
Nimble: Ursine is as easy to catch as a water snake, able to weave and dodge with speed and balance. She is in perfect coordination of her body, when one body part feints, the other strikes.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S ————————————————————————————— Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
Ability 1: Blind Eyes Can See "The misunderstood need someone to care for them. Need someone to mend them and bring them peace. I was too late to bring peace to my creator, to ease his mind of loneliness and demented acts. I wish to save those who society frowns upon, and most importantly, show them how to understand themselves."
҉ The Despair: The misunderstood are inconsolable sometimes, unable to handle their feelings. Sobeki fixes that by inducing another emotion to override the current emotion - it's only a temporary fix, but it is a fix. Through a simple touch, Sobeki can make someone feel a small wisp of happiness that is a light in the dark for them.
҉ The Conviction: To be consoled, to be loved and comfortable, the misunderstood must trust in Sobeki. Sobeki cannot make someone trust her, but she can take the small inkling of trust in their heart and augment it. This makes it easier for her to get close to someone and understand them.
҉ The Mending: The first step to understanding someone is empathizing with them and feeling what they feel. In order to do that, Sobeki is able to emotionally connect to others and quite literally empathize with them.
Ability 2: The Doll of Predators "I must never forget the life that was taken to bring me to the Pariahs of Ammit. They are my makers as much as their murderer is my creator. Even in death, such predators give me their souls."
҉ A Gift of Strength: The predators she was built with give her strength, but only one animal at a time. She can take the ferociousness of a bear, the trickiness of a spider, the intelligence of a crow, the flexibility of a snake, the speed of a cougar, and the instincts of a wolf.
҉ A Lent Mind: Sobeki is able to enter the mind of a predatorial animal. Quite like possessing, Sobeki can see, feel, and touch everything the animal is doing. However, she cannot control the movements or mind of the animal.
҉ A Twisted Will: In times of need, Sobeki can bend the will of predators to her and control them to do her bidding. They can attack her enemy and strike them down, or deliver a message to an old friend. The needs in which they meet is endless.
Ability 3: The Retrogression "I will return to where I belong when my time is gone. If there is a foe that threatens my companions, I will crush them to pieces and watch them descend into my origin."
҉ Excision: As she was made from the stitch of each limb, Sobeki can take the invisible thread out and replace a limb with a new limb. With this limb, Sobeki gains all the powers it once held and can attribute it to herself.
҉ Amalgamation: A recession of body and mind, Sobeki can return to the form in which she was first created with in order to deal the ultimate damage that she can. This form lends her all the skills and abilities of her makers.
҉ Deterioration: The ultimate power and the ace up her sleeve, Sobeki can end her life as she takes a poisonous other with her. By twisting another's hands in hers, Sobeki is able to cause a rapid deterioration of body. The duo begin to rot alive, together, until the end when they perish. It's a suicidal move, but it is the will of her creator, Ammit, that provides her with peace of mind.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y —————————————————————————————
҉ Two tomahawks. ҉ Fur cloak, made from a black bear. ҉ Bag of deer jerky, made herself. ҉ Extra rucksack for meat and herbs gathered. ҉ Clothes made of homemade leather and wolf fur. ҉ Crude homemade rope.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R ————————————————————————————— Gold: #E6BE8A Silver: #C0C0C0
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S —————————————————————————————
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: YES (X) NO () This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
I've also been meaning to ask you. Is your goddess a regular god or a dark god? Your hider says dark goddess, but your CS doesn't have the tag, and your history does say you were cursed by the dark gods.
Just making sure here. xD
@ihinka You do you. There's no age restrictions, after all ^^
I've also been meaning to ask you. Is your goddess a regular god or a dark god? Your hider says dark goddess, but your CS doesn't have the tag, and your history does say you were cursed by the dark gods.
Just making sure here. xD
@ihinka You do you. There's no age restrictions, after all ^^
Regular god, sorry, I keep forgetting to edit it since she was originally a dark god.
Regular god, sorry, I keep forgetting to edit it since she was originally a dark god.
I actually really like it that a regular god has such a dark concept. (Truly, the only difference between regular and dark gods is their side in this conflict.) It keeps both sides a lot more varied and less black/white :)
Narcissa/Ylonia was supposed to do a very similar thing for the dark side xD
Anyone else here prefer to make older characters? Mine range from 30-60 most of the time, almost always the oldest in a roleplay by a few decades >_>
My favorite character I ever played was a 70 year old barbarian who was completely off his rocker. First thing he did in the RP was stand up in the middle of a bloody bar fight... and then lay on the ground, trying to play dead.
@ihinka Traitor? Don't know what you mean... My character's nineteen... more like a rebel with a cause xD.
@luckofthedrawIm currently roleplaying as a 73 year old man in another roleplay, he has a pupper called Albert, to pet the virtual pupper is the only reason I love roleplaying as him :D It's always an interesting move to play someone so old, really puts you in a different mind set.
Anyone else here prefer to make older characters? Mine range from 30-60 most of the time, almost always the oldest in a roleplay by a few decades >_>
I mostly prefer early to mid twenties, though I have played characters in their thirties before.
The main reason I try to stay in a somewhat comfortable age-range is here is because the Random relationships could pair you up with someone of an... uncomfortable age xD (though Vetoing someone under a specific age for certain relationships is an option, of course)