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Lord Zee I lost the game
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⍚ THRAN ⥥ 29 ⥥ MALE ⥥ HETEROSEXUAL ⍚
"In your darkest hour, remember the stars, for they are always watching."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
Thran is exceptionally handsome by human standards. He stands at about six feet, two inches and is fully erect at all times because posture is important with someone of his stature. His lithe build fills him out nicely. He has no tattoos, and no piercings. Several scars can be seen throughout his body, small and out of mind but from the many experiences in his life. One large ghastly looking scar etched into his left arm is a constant reminder of his banishment. His face remains blemish and scar free to date. His clothing style can't be fully expressed right now, he just wears what will keep him warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
The mark of the curse rests above his left bicep. The mark itself is of a small star that is slightly darker then his skin color. When he activates his abilities for the first time, the star turns blue. As he uses his abilities, the star erupts like a solar flare, growing sporadically across his skin.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Thran is a sympathetic soul, cast into a cruel world of harsh realities. His own experiences have created an individual who would care for those he knows little about simply because it is the right thing to do. He cares little for violence as such, but is no stranger to it, and usually takes a refined approach to confronting an issue. He enjoys talking to people all the same, as it brings him some sanity from his lonely lifestyle. He is full of compassion and doesn't like to start arguments with people, but will hold his ground on subjects he deems necessary to uphold. He'll try his best to stop any type of confrontation before it turns ugly with his voice of reason. He rarely takes sides in any case.
He is a solemn figure when he needs to be, but prefers to make jest of bad situations and bring laughter to dark times. He is no stranger to broken things, as he is chief among them. As such, even though he lives as a lone wolf, he is usually starved for human contact but can't seem to reason moving into a tribe again. His mistrust for any type of clan, not individuals, comes from his own banishment and betrayal. Thran cares little for the many aspects of clan life, but he'd be fool to forget that their is safety in numbers. Above all else, Thran care for people and doesn't like to see needless pain and suffering.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Upon the night of Thran's birth, a shooting star crossed the sky with whispers of good omens to come for Clan Durok. His father was third in line for chiefdom at the time of his arrival, and proclaimed his first born son, Thran Dromunson Durok. His mother was a pretty thing called, Ravia, a hunter's daughter. Thran was Fourth in line for chiefdom, Starborn and above all else, healthy much to his parents profound joy. His Tribe was one of the largest in the area, calling the grassy plains their home and everything that was in sight, theirs. One day, if he lived long enough, it would be all his by right.
His early childhood was marked with little activity other then the day task of surviving. Each was counted as a blessing, and just another step in his progression to an adult. His curiosity for the mysteries of the world were unfounded and he learned much through careful teachings from his parents and other tribesmen. As the days turned into months and the months turned into years, his chances of reaching maturity got better until it was simply known as fact that he would remain healthy enough. During his upbringing his mother and father had three more children, with only one lost in infancy. The second born, his first sibling, was a girl named Delani whose wild walnut colored hair portrayed her personality perfectly. The third born was another son, Tilok who was known for his brash attitude and a general troublemaker. The fourth born of his parents was a girl, her name was Lilan but now she rests with the ancestors in the Great Plains up above. With his siblings, they endured much together but became strong because of it.
Upon the day of his seventeenth birthday, he was ushered into adulthood with a celebration, and a great feast along with several others. The ceremony that came after was long and dull, but at the end, Thran was officially considered an adult and allowed the privileges that it entitled. He could now talk at tribe moots, have his own home and belongings and find a wife to continue the Durok line. For a couple of years Thran lived in his families home, until chiefdom was passed onto his father. It was a dark tragedy that befell his family, both his grandfather and uncle perished while out hunting for the White Elk. With a heavy heart, his father took the responsibilities of chiefdom and they moved houses, while Thran then took over the families home- his home.
Three years passed by with little note. Thran watched his brother and sister join adulthood, voiced his opinion on the various goings of the tribe, and was content with doing the daily tasks required of him. Whether hunting with friends, or building a hut for a family. The tribesmen grew to love his calm sensibility and playful muses. He however, was also the subject of great scrutiny for he had not found a wife yet and no heirs had been born to him. His brother in the meantime, already had a small family started with a lovely wife from a distant tribe. He was proud to be an uncle. His sister in the meantime, was married off to a different tribe for relations and he seldom saw her anymore other then the occasion feast.
Then upon his twenty-third summer, another tragedy befell his family- his mother, Ravia fell to sickness. Thran mourned for seven days before being able to go on, his father however, was affected greatly. A sickness took his mind and decadence filled his heart. He took many maidens and defiled them, often sacrificing them in the name of the old gods. The tribesmen knew not what to do, their gods had given Dromun the will to be their chief, who could oppose that? It went against tradition, but Thran knew better. Upon the night of the Sacred Moon, he opposed his father outright, declaring him a vile wicked creature and a man he was no longer. Outraged, his father challenged him to a fight, and Thran agreed.
They fought for several minutes, but Thran never received the oxen build his father had, or his talent with a sword and Thran was beaten to an inch of his life. His father declared Thran banished, and Tilok to be next in line for chiefdom, for unlike his dear brother, he had sons to continue the line. His tribe, turned against him then, and he was left outside of the settlement, to die alone. With great pain, Thran managed to get to his feet and leave his home behind, for good.
He wandered the plains for a time, licking his wounds back to health and trying to survive at the same time. Through sheer perseverance and a little bit of luck, Thran managed to hone himself for the wilds and he has called it home ever since. He travels the land now, avoiding the dangers of nature and man alike but occasionally stopping in other tribal areas if they are friendly.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ IZAR'ALONOWAY, THE EVERSTAR ⥥ GOD OF STARLIGHT, CARETAKER OF THE STARS ⥥ MALE ⥥ HETEROSEXUAL ⍚
There was once an ocean of stars
So plentiful and full of calm light,
But the only thing he had were tears
As the cold dark had come bringing night,
And in his ocean where he walked
The stars began to fade away,
Leaving only the horror of being shocked
To know he would watch everything decay.
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Izar took the shape of a star, whose color and shape were ever changing. He dipped into every conceivable color, from the purest of white to the darkest of red. His energy pulsated around him, and he could even control the heat he emitted if he so chose. He never took another form but it was probably well within his power to do so.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- The Everstar, Father of Constellations, The Bright One, Lord of Space are just a few names.
- Levelheaded and singularly focused on his primary task.
- More to be added.
[ ⍚ ] 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
Light. Glorious, hallowed light. That was the first thing Izar remembered when he came into being. It surrounded him, bathing his conscious in a multitude of bright colors and warmth, some of which he hadn't seen since. Overcome with emotion and dazzled with beauty like never before, he watched the stars as they dispersed. He felt a great love for the stars but they were fickle creatures, prone to harm and easily angered. So upon his glorious birth, he was also given a lesson upon the new reality he was born into, when a small yellow star collided into one of its brothers. The resulting explosion annihilated the two, sending their furious heat on a collision course with other stars but more importantly, into Izar.
Izar screamed as the fire washed over him, sending his conscious state into a state of pain. It was a new feeling to Izar, one that prompted him into action unknowingly. He began to absorb the energy, the fire of the explosion and slowly the jabbing pain subsided. When the fire was at last gone, Izar was astonished to see that he had become a star himself, but more so then the others. The Everstar had been born, and his purpose was clearly defined. He would not only watch the stars and their beauty, but care for them in a way that kept them safe from themselves, and others.
That was a long time ago, and few now remember that which was the start. Izar wandered his ocean of stars, tending to them like a Shepard would tend a flock of sheep, yet at the time there was no such thing as a Shepard, or sheep. Not all of it was pretty, as he soon became keenly aware that there were others like him, those who possessed thought on which to act upon. They were calling themselves Gods, and each one of them wielded fabulous and exotic powers, that some used for good and others not so much. Many,
if not a vast majority of these Gods, took to a star that was cold and held little color, He watched them work upon it and learned, that it was not in fact a star, but a planet. Izar was told that many joyous creations would be made upon its surface but Izar cared not, for the stars were his domain and they needed his care. Unbeknownst to the others, Izar watched the stars carefully around their planet, as he would have hated to see such work go to waste from a rogue star. He even created the constellations and mimicked them after God's and Goddess he saw working upon the planet.
Izar screamed as the fire washed over him, sending his conscious state into a state of pain. It was a new feeling to Izar, one that prompted him into action unknowingly. He began to absorb the energy, the fire of the explosion and slowly the jabbing pain subsided. When the fire was at last gone, Izar was astonished to see that he had become a star himself, but more so then the others. The Everstar had been born, and his purpose was clearly defined. He would not only watch the stars and their beauty, but care for them in a way that kept them safe from themselves, and others.
That was a long time ago, and few now remember that which was the start. Izar wandered his ocean of stars, tending to them like a Shepard would tend a flock of sheep, yet at the time there was no such thing as a Shepard, or sheep. Not all of it was pretty, as he soon became keenly aware that there were others like him, those who possessed thought on which to act upon. They were calling themselves Gods, and each one of them wielded fabulous and exotic powers, that some used for good and others not so much. Many,
if not a vast majority of these Gods, took to a star that was cold and held little color, He watched them work upon it and learned, that it was not in fact a star, but a planet. Izar was told that many joyous creations would be made upon its surface but Izar cared not, for the stars were his domain and they needed his care. Unbeknownst to the others, Izar watched the stars carefully around their planet, as he would have hated to see such work go to waste from a rogue star. He even created the constellations and mimicked them after God's and Goddess he saw working upon the planet.
He had thought that with the planet to keep the other God's occupied, they would stop meddling in his domain but he was wrong.(Will come back to this part, I've read some other cs backgrounds and some God's haven't been so kind to the stars.)
Time did not effect Izar as it did others, he felt it as a passing motion that flowed around him. So it came as a great surprise to the Everstar when he was told by a passing lesser deity that the the Dark Gods, some enemies of the Stars, had begun to curse those who were Starkissed. Izar was taken aback by the statement, if two beings could love each other so inextricably like he loved the stars, who had the right to take away their happiness? Who had the right to damn them for all of eternity?
He rushed back to the planet the other gods had tarried over so long ago to find their presence empty, or fleeting. So many he realized, had been taken by the curse, and forced to live mortal lives. He pitied them deeply, such a fate to find love and never to have it, to die over and over was quite depressing. Izar was confident however, that he would avoid such a fate as he was not Starkissed as they had been.
As he began to withdraw from the planet and retreat to the Ocean of his, he stopped. Gathered before him were Dark Gods, many in number and they stared at him with malicious intent. In that moment, Izar had his doubts. The Everstar had never found love, for what greater beauty was there then the stars? Yet there they were.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked hesitantly.
One of them stepped out from the others and spoke in deep tone, "The Everstar, sat high above his ocean throne. He cared for the stars all alone. Protecting them ever so fiercely. Now his fate will end quite badly. Starkissed or not, foes you have made. Now you shall simply fade."
The Everstar burned brightly as the dark gods bounded towards him. He was never a fighter but he would show them a fight. Across the sky they battled, like streaks of lightning they danced. Izar killed a few, and hurt many more before he was overtaken. As the curse consumed his body, they flung him to the planet. Images flashed in his mind, and before he knew it he saw the end. The stars fading into the dark, as black swallowed everything and he wept.
Somewhere in the land, a baby began to cry.
He rushed back to the planet the other gods had tarried over so long ago to find their presence empty, or fleeting. So many he realized, had been taken by the curse, and forced to live mortal lives. He pitied them deeply, such a fate to find love and never to have it, to die over and over was quite depressing. Izar was confident however, that he would avoid such a fate as he was not Starkissed as they had been.
As he began to withdraw from the planet and retreat to the Ocean of his, he stopped. Gathered before him were Dark Gods, many in number and they stared at him with malicious intent. In that moment, Izar had his doubts. The Everstar had never found love, for what greater beauty was there then the stars? Yet there they were.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked hesitantly.
One of them stepped out from the others and spoke in deep tone, "The Everstar, sat high above his ocean throne. He cared for the stars all alone. Protecting them ever so fiercely. Now his fate will end quite badly. Starkissed or not, foes you have made. Now you shall simply fade."
The Everstar burned brightly as the dark gods bounded towards him. He was never a fighter but he would show them a fight. Across the sky they battled, like streaks of lightning they danced. Izar killed a few, and hurt many more before he was overtaken. As the curse consumed his body, they flung him to the planet. Images flashed in his mind, and before he knew it he saw the end. The stars fading into the dark, as black swallowed everything and he wept.
Somewhere in the land, a baby began to cry.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Smooth talker- Thran has always had a knack for being able to talk his way out situations and calm people down. He is very charismatic in that regard.
- Regal- Thran has a natural air of dignity about him. Though he never flaunts it, people are more likely to do as he asks.
- Rational- Thran thinks carefully before acting, never rushing into a situation headfirst. For that would only be foolish.
- Nighstalker- Thran has an unnatural talent for being able to disappear in the night and not leave a trace.
- Lithe Build- He's not the strongest or largest man out there but what he lacks in physical aptitude,
he makes up for by being graceful on his feet and slightly faster then most. - Axeman- He is proficient at wielding an assortment of axes for disposal.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
The Star's Promise: Weakest Ability
"Look! Look up and see! The stars will show us the way!"
A Dazzling Display: Thran can light up an area of his choosing in any color imaginable. The light can stick to anything and illuminates a medium sized area. Some colors show brighter then others. Fades after a short while.
Guidance: Thran uses the stars on a cloudless night for navigation. He will never get lost as long as he can see them.
Star Vision: Thran can use this ability to see clear as day, on a starry night. Cloud cover inhibits this ability as well.
Guidance: Thran uses the stars on a cloudless night for navigation. He will never get lost as long as he can see them.
Star Vision: Thran can use this ability to see clear as day, on a starry night. Cloud cover inhibits this ability as well.
The Caretaker's Burden: Moderate Ability
"Be the change people need, not the kind that they want."
Cosmic Clarity: The Caretaker can calm people and animals down with this ability. Whether it be two men on the verge of blows, or an animal about to attack. Those effected will enter a state of serenity and find their petty squabbles to be completely pointless.
The Star's Touch: With a simple touch, weak wounds are healed and moderate wounds reduced in severity. Non lethal, non-magical diseases and ailments are also permanently cured. Provides a small buff to the immune system for the next twelve hours. This ability cannot cure fatal wounds, maimed limbs or infliction difficult to treat such as magical injuries.
Suppression: Like the days of old, the Caretaker can use this ability to absorb the harmful energies emitted from a god power. The lesser the ability, the easier it is so absorb, while the opposite can be said for higher powers, and can even weaken his own life. When the energy is absorbed, the Caretaker can not use it in any shape or form. It simply vanishes from whence it came.
The Star's Touch: With a simple touch, weak wounds are healed and moderate wounds reduced in severity. Non lethal, non-magical diseases and ailments are also permanently cured. Provides a small buff to the immune system for the next twelve hours. This ability cannot cure fatal wounds, maimed limbs or infliction difficult to treat such as magical injuries.
Suppression: Like the days of old, the Caretaker can use this ability to absorb the harmful energies emitted from a god power. The lesser the ability, the easier it is so absorb, while the opposite can be said for higher powers, and can even weaken his own life. When the energy is absorbed, the Caretaker can not use it in any shape or form. It simply vanishes from whence it came.
The Everstar: Strongest Ability
"Ah, did you see that Thran? That Shooting star? Make a wish and perhaps it will come true."
Starlight: The Everstar can wield the stars energies. He can use light to make a weapon. He can then change the color and intensity of the display. The brightness emitted can blind foes but leave him untouched.
Compassion Strike: The Everstar reaches out to all of those within a square mile and awakens an overwhelming sense of compassion for those around them. Effects last for one day, and during this time an individual feels strong emotions of pity, sympathy and concern for all life that they interact with, leaving little room for any other emotion during this time. They are also strongly compelled to help others in need, even with the most mundane tasks.
The Everstar Wish: The Everstar sheds his Mortal Coil for a short time, taking to his domain for but a moment. Day fades to night in an instant as he streaks across the open sky in his former glory. Any who look upon him may make a wish, but only those pure of heart may have it answered. The wish cannot reverse the effects of the curse, or bring back the deceased. Wishes will also be taken word for word and have varying levels of success depending on what is asked for.
(Note- Only Played God's are able to make a wish.)
Compassion Strike: The Everstar reaches out to all of those within a square mile and awakens an overwhelming sense of compassion for those around them. Effects last for one day, and during this time an individual feels strong emotions of pity, sympathy and concern for all life that they interact with, leaving little room for any other emotion during this time. They are also strongly compelled to help others in need, even with the most mundane tasks.
The Everstar Wish: The Everstar sheds his Mortal Coil for a short time, taking to his domain for but a moment. Day fades to night in an instant as he streaks across the open sky in his former glory. Any who look upon him may make a wish, but only those pure of heart may have it answered. The wish cannot reverse the effects of the curse, or bring back the deceased. Wishes will also be taken word for word and have varying levels of success depending on what is asked for.
(Note- Only Played God's are able to make a wish.)
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
A stone hatchet, clothing to keep him warm, and a goatskin pouch with survival items.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: lightyellow
lightcyan
cyan
gold
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Sure
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
Filthy Mudblood love the dress. hate her.
Member
Seen
7 mos ago
⍚ Valerie; the strong and the blessed ⥥ 20 ⥥ female ⥥ heterosexual ⍚
"nothing's worth anything to dead men."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
A small girl, standing at a mere 5'4", with angelic features and doe-like eyes. Despite her harmless appearance, Valerie holds an air of challenge to her that has the brash cockiness that normally only a man could pull off in this day and age. Her azure eyes are fiery and intelligent - always moving, analysing and judging. Her porcelain skin would be unblemished if it were not for the scar running down her right cheek, obtained after being too cocky with a knife, which narrowly missed her eye by an inch or two. A slender, toned physique that is no stranger to exertion - it is surprising to find a good amount of muscle underneath the soft flesh of her arms and legs. A shock of white-blonde hair tends to be held back out of her face, as it is too thick and long to be let loose in battle.
The Mark of her curse is noticeable when not covered. A series of black symbols travelling down the nape of her neck in a neat line, a few degrees cooler that of the rest of her skin. They are slightly raised, almost like scars, and are usually concealed by her hair or her hood. When Valerie tests her abiltiies, further marks will appear on her skin in neat rows almost like some sort of text. As they first show up, they will appear to be smiliar to that of frostbite scars before slowly and painfully healing to form the ink-link patterns. As the Mark consumes her, she will most likely die of hypothermia as her vital organs will be too cold to properly function underneath the cooling sensation of the Curse.
The Mark of her curse is noticeable when not covered. A series of black symbols travelling down the nape of her neck in a neat line, a few degrees cooler that of the rest of her skin. They are slightly raised, almost like scars, and are usually concealed by her hair or her hood. When Valerie tests her abiltiies, further marks will appear on her skin in neat rows almost like some sort of text. As they first show up, they will appear to be smiliar to that of frostbite scars before slowly and painfully healing to form the ink-link patterns. As the Mark consumes her, she will most likely die of hypothermia as her vital organs will be too cold to properly function underneath the cooling sensation of the Curse.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
A spirited soul, to say the least. Valerie loves to surprise people with her strength and skill. Forgetting the fact that she's 5'4" and faerie-like in her beauty, she also happens to be female - which is the source of much judgement towards her in the first place. Her fiery nature is apparent upon first encounter, as she is a firm believer in the significance of first impressions, and, most of the time, what you see is what you get. She rarely shows fear, or any kind of weakness, really (which will most likely be the death of her) and brash attitude can seem almost bloodthirsty at times, so much so that you could almost think she was looking for a fight.
Valerie has an unexpectedly tender side to her; underneath all of the sharp quips and arrogant remarks. Truth be told, she happens to be a hopeless romantic. Although she may seem pessimistic a lot of the time, there is a part of Valerie that trusts in fate and karma and whatnot. Another softer aspect of Valerie is her sense of humour. She takes pride in making others laugh, often resorting to jokes or blunt statements to lighten the mood. This also brings to light her laugh - which is possibly the most unpredictable thing about her. It is a sound of true colour, and tends to shock people that hear it. It is so pure and genuine in comparison to her character, that it certainly has the power to change one's perception of Valerie completely.
That being said, while Valerie is a relatively sociable soul - she is foremost an independent girl. She finds it far more peaceful and efficient to work alone, so may show distaste towards having to share a task with someone else. She likes to do things in her own messy way, and, although it may seem like chaos, most of the time it turns out to be a work of art.
Valerie has an unexpectedly tender side to her; underneath all of the sharp quips and arrogant remarks. Truth be told, she happens to be a hopeless romantic. Although she may seem pessimistic a lot of the time, there is a part of Valerie that trusts in fate and karma and whatnot. Another softer aspect of Valerie is her sense of humour. She takes pride in making others laugh, often resorting to jokes or blunt statements to lighten the mood. This also brings to light her laugh - which is possibly the most unpredictable thing about her. It is a sound of true colour, and tends to shock people that hear it. It is so pure and genuine in comparison to her character, that it certainly has the power to change one's perception of Valerie completely.
That being said, while Valerie is a relatively sociable soul - she is foremost an independent girl. She finds it far more peaceful and efficient to work alone, so may show distaste towards having to share a task with someone else. She likes to do things in her own messy way, and, although it may seem like chaos, most of the time it turns out to be a work of art.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
With a mother of the Longear Tribe and a father of the Wolfrahg clan, Valerie was born with both beauty and ferocity. Her parents stuck to a life of travel, and they would often sleep under the stars rather than the usual tribe tents. Valerie herself grew to be a somewhat lonely child, much to her mother's dismay, and she would often sneak into nearby clan territory just to catch a glimpse of the other children. The majority of her childhood was spent in the shadows - watching from a distance. She did not dislike her parents for it, as they told her many times the story of how they had left behind their old ways to start a new life together, but she would still yearn to be a part of a tribe - to have a proper family.
Her parents' death was like a blow to the heart; swift and painful. Her mother had been forraging for food when a masked fiend struck her down with an arrow to the throat, resulting in her choking to death. Valerie's father, overcome by grief, led his daughter to the outskirts of the Wolfrahg territory and told her to stay there. He never came back.
Valerie, at first, was looked at with suspicion and distaste. The mysterious little girl at the edge of the woods. The Wolfrhag clan had recently noticed a spike in the number of creatures in the area, so, being the supersticious lot they were, were perhaps being a little too cautious of the fourteen year old. It wasn't until a curious youngster approached her and began stroking her wolfskin hood without a care in the world that the tribe recognised her as being one of them. After a lot of discussion, and one or two heated debates about whether she was a demon or not, Valerie was welcomed into the tribe with fierce affection that reminded her of her father. Her brash, outspoken side started to peek through as she trained and hunted and trained some more. A good chunk of her time was spent around men rather than women, and, although she received some grief for being a woman herself, she handled things on her own perfectly well. She is now one of the lead scouts of the Wolfrahg clan, and her being a newcomer is now no longer even a shadow at the back of her mind. She still remembers and mourns her mother and father, yes, but there was a reason as to why she was sent here - she's sure of it.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
Her parents' death was like a blow to the heart; swift and painful. Her mother had been forraging for food when a masked fiend struck her down with an arrow to the throat, resulting in her choking to death. Valerie's father, overcome by grief, led his daughter to the outskirts of the Wolfrahg territory and told her to stay there. He never came back.
Valerie, at first, was looked at with suspicion and distaste. The mysterious little girl at the edge of the woods. The Wolfrhag clan had recently noticed a spike in the number of creatures in the area, so, being the supersticious lot they were, were perhaps being a little too cautious of the fourteen year old. It wasn't until a curious youngster approached her and began stroking her wolfskin hood without a care in the world that the tribe recognised her as being one of them. After a lot of discussion, and one or two heated debates about whether she was a demon or not, Valerie was welcomed into the tribe with fierce affection that reminded her of her father. Her brash, outspoken side started to peek through as she trained and hunted and trained some more. A good chunk of her time was spent around men rather than women, and, although she received some grief for being a woman herself, she handled things on her own perfectly well. She is now one of the lead scouts of the Wolfrahg clan, and her being a newcomer is now no longer even a shadow at the back of her mind. She still remembers and mourns her mother and father, yes, but there was a reason as to why she was sent here - she's sure of it.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Darya, the illusion ⥥ Goddess of Chaos, Laughter and Confusion ⥥ Female ⥥ Pansexual ⍚
<EXCERPT FROM GOD LEGEND>
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
It is surprising to most, at first glance, that Darya is not a Dark Goddess. Her hair is a deep violet colour, typically bundled into a messy updo and decorated with an assortment of feathers, tribal jewellery, and an abundance of apparently permanent glitter.
Her irises are a fathomless ink black - ever shifting and unreadable. She has an array of tattoos across her body, most of which reflect a significant circumstance in her life. Her height is never the same for long, as is the way her voice sounds. One minute its soft as silk, the next it is as violent as the clashing of thunder. Her figure is lithe and graceful, shrouded in a deep midnight cloak that twinkles softly with bells of laughter every time she moves.
Her irises are a fathomless ink black - ever shifting and unreadable. She has an array of tattoos across her body, most of which reflect a significant circumstance in her life. Her height is never the same for long, as is the way her voice sounds. One minute its soft as silk, the next it is as violent as the clashing of thunder. Her figure is lithe and graceful, shrouded in a deep midnight cloak that twinkles softly with bells of laughter every time she moves.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- A beautiful laugh
- Tricks and pranks
- Speaking in riddles
- Weaving false tales
- Is represented by a single bat.
- Tricks and pranks
- Speaking in riddles
- Weaving false tales
- Is represented by a single bat.
[ ⍚ ] 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
Darya came into existence upon the first peak of laughter uttered by mankind. From then on, she has been in the essence of every giggle, chuckle or snicker. Her job, at first, was a simple one: to be the lightening of a mood, the ease of tension, the humour in a dark story. Of course, as the mortal population grew, so too did their conflicts. Soon, there was no laughter - no joy. Just war and grief.
It was then that Darya discovered the art of veiling. He was able to detach mortals from reality with a mist in a sort of daze, where instead of anger and bloodlust and hurt, they felt...lost. She named this confusion. Her job became far more difficult after that - sprinkling the most of chaos and confusion to protect her beloved mortals from each other and to allow them to keep on laughing.
Before the first encounter with her Starkissed, Darya was forgetful, single-minded and...well, a little eccentric. Most of the other Gods would avoid her for this reason, seeing her only as an insignificant child God of some minor skill. If only they knew of how she kept the world in order. It did not make her bitter, but she was saddened by the loneliness. Many a time would be try to befriend some poor mortal, but with a single touch from her, their minds would crumble into incomprehensible thoughts. Later, this would be named Dementia. Darya had heard of the other Gods finding a partner, a soulmate that they protected as if they were more valuable than themselves, but she had never once believed that she would find one herself. When she did, though, mortals all over their world found themselves laughing more and enjoying their chaotic ways of living far more than they did before.
Her curse was thrust upon her one night as she was waiting to meet her Starkissed as she usually did. It came disguised as a small silver bag - not unlike her own, which contained her veil powder. When she opened the bag, however, the last thing she saw was dark trendles of smoke snaking around her immortal body before everything went black. An immeasurable time of darkness passed until she woke up as Valerie, with no recollection of her former glory.
It was then that Darya discovered the art of veiling. He was able to detach mortals from reality with a mist in a sort of daze, where instead of anger and bloodlust and hurt, they felt...lost. She named this confusion. Her job became far more difficult after that - sprinkling the most of chaos and confusion to protect her beloved mortals from each other and to allow them to keep on laughing.
Before the first encounter with her Starkissed, Darya was forgetful, single-minded and...well, a little eccentric. Most of the other Gods would avoid her for this reason, seeing her only as an insignificant child God of some minor skill. If only they knew of how she kept the world in order. It did not make her bitter, but she was saddened by the loneliness. Many a time would be try to befriend some poor mortal, but with a single touch from her, their minds would crumble into incomprehensible thoughts. Later, this would be named Dementia. Darya had heard of the other Gods finding a partner, a soulmate that they protected as if they were more valuable than themselves, but she had never once believed that she would find one herself. When she did, though, mortals all over their world found themselves laughing more and enjoying their chaotic ways of living far more than they did before.
Her curse was thrust upon her one night as she was waiting to meet her Starkissed as she usually did. It came disguised as a small silver bag - not unlike her own, which contained her veil powder. When she opened the bag, however, the last thing she saw was dark trendles of smoke snaking around her immortal body before everything went black. An immeasurable time of darkness passed until she woke up as Valerie, with no recollection of her former glory.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Intimidating Valerie, although being a woman, can seem a tad overbearing to begin with. This tends to unnerve others, as her brash unpredictability can be seen as both alluring and dangerous.
- Intelligent Depsite the fact that it may seem as if Valerie has a warrior's mindset of 'kill this, eat that', she is actually surprisingly articulate. No, she certainly isn't one of the brightest stars in the sky - bury she is far more clever than others tend to give her credit for.
- Judge of character it may be the fact that Valerie was the Goddess of Confusion, so can see past lies and deception, or it may just be her ability to see the good in almost everyone, but Valerie finds herself particularly skilled at seeing the true intentions of those she meets.
- Hiding Valerie just so happens to be pretty good at staying undetected. After a childhood spent lurking in the shadows, she knows more about blending into the background that your average person.
- Axe-wielding not your most lady-like choice of weapon, for sure but it definitely can do a lot of damage in Valerie's hands. Her axe becomes an extension of her arm when she fights, which is not something to underestimate.
- Dodging due to her lacking in height, Valerie finds moving around her opponent far easier than if she was a huge mass of muscle. She likes to make her moves in one fluid dance, always being one step ahaead.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
Clear-mindedness: Weakest Ability
The Goddess of Confusion, confused? That just doesn't make sense.
Revealing tricks and lies: Darya has the ability to know when she is being deceived. Purposeful lies call out to her, and she can spot them as if they were obvious in the first place. This power does have loopholes, however, and certain ways of saying things can get past her.
True intent: A development from discovering falsehood, Darya can see one's true intentions of their actions. She must watch firsthand these actions before discovering their purpose, though.
Lucidity control: Darya can sense and manipulate the coherence/lucidity of herself, people, animals and other creatures by channeling lucidity, meaning she can alter the clarity in which others think. This links into the fact that when she is her immortal self, Darya cannot touch a mortal without jumbling their brain a little.
True intent: A development from discovering falsehood, Darya can see one's true intentions of their actions. She must watch firsthand these actions before discovering their purpose, though.
Lucidity control: Darya can sense and manipulate the coherence/lucidity of herself, people, animals and other creatures by channeling lucidity, meaning she can alter the clarity in which others think. This links into the fact that when she is her immortal self, Darya cannot touch a mortal without jumbling their brain a little.
Fun: Moderate Ability
A day without laughter is a day wasted, don't you think?
Laughter inducement: Darya can induce laughter into others with a snap of her fingers. This power can also distract enemies long enough for her to kill them, recruit them in being an ally of comedy, or just escape. This power can reach the point where the enemy ends up on the ground helpless with uncontrollable laughter - however, strong pain either self-inflicted or otherwise can snap a person out of the effect.
Enjoyment: Darya can manipulate the concept of fun itself and thus affect the enjoyment people are having in particular situations, although these people must be those that she has at least a familiarity with.
Amusement Inhibition: Pretty much the opposite of her enjoyment power, Darya can extinguish any amusement one feels towards a specific action. She cannot stop them from doing it, however she can detach any joy they feel towards the activity.
Enjoyment: Darya can manipulate the concept of fun itself and thus affect the enjoyment people are having in particular situations, although these people must be those that she has at least a familiarity with.
Amusement Inhibition: Pretty much the opposite of her enjoyment power, Darya can extinguish any amusement one feels towards a specific action. She cannot stop them from doing it, however she can detach any joy they feel towards the activity.
Confusion: Strongest Ability
Confusion, confuddlement, discombobulation. It's everywhere. In love, in loss, in sadness, and in joy. I'm just the one that controls it.
Misdirection: Darya has the ability to cause people to get lost, lose their way, or forget where they were going in the first place. She must know where they are headed first, however.
Illusion of the Past: Similiar to that of Pan's Delusion of Grandeur, Darya can summon a facade that will fall upon someone and most likely bewilder them. Each facade is different for each person, normally being someone they have lost or care about greatly.
Viel of Confusion: Her signature power as a Goddess, Darya can materialise a fine silver powder that induces extreme confusion and chaos. Upon contact with this powder, ones senses are numbed and their minds are lost to hallucinations, lucid dreams and panic. Darya's lifeforce is primarily drained from the materialisation of the powder, but she still needs one last burst of energy for the distribution of the powder. She can grant immunity to those she does not wish to harm for a short period of time to get out of the powder's range (up to 2km). These effects can last up to a lifetime (depending on the severity, even passed down a generation or two), if the victim is lucky and the effects are temporary, they will be left disoriented and foremost mentally scarred.
Illusion of the Past: Similiar to that of Pan's Delusion of Grandeur, Darya can summon a facade that will fall upon someone and most likely bewilder them. Each facade is different for each person, normally being someone they have lost or care about greatly.
Viel of Confusion: Her signature power as a Goddess, Darya can materialise a fine silver powder that induces extreme confusion and chaos. Upon contact with this powder, ones senses are numbed and their minds are lost to hallucinations, lucid dreams and panic. Darya's lifeforce is primarily drained from the materialisation of the powder, but she still needs one last burst of energy for the distribution of the powder. She can grant immunity to those she does not wish to harm for a short period of time to get out of the powder's range (up to 2km). These effects can last up to a lifetime (depending on the severity, even passed down a generation or two), if the victim is lucky and the effects are temporary, they will be left disoriented and foremost mentally scarred.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
- a plain axe with leather binding and a 'V' carved into the handle, as shown in the picture.
- a collection of rare bird feathers, sometimes used for trading.
- leather headband and gloves, both brown in colour.
[⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: EE82EE
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Yes
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
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⍚ Fæla (fae * la) ⥥ 19 ⥥ Female ⥥ Demisexual ⍚
♪♪
"There’s something spectacular about knowing you’re missing something, but also spectacularly depressing."
♪♪
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
”Fæla is a mere five feet two inches, standing shorter than most people her age, however she has a look about her that would stop most in their tracks. Her eyes are fierce and the lines around her face are like the lay lines of the very earth itself. It appears at a glance that she has seen too much or this world already at the brisk age of 19. In that way, her eyes do somewhat look tired. But not as though they are ready for a momentary sleep. More as though they are ready for a release. From this plane, from this life, from too many things to count. She has a dreariness about her that doesn’t escape most encounters.
She has bright green eyes that would surprise most. As they stand out so glaringly amongst her olive complexion. She has a deep but thin scar running diagonally along her nose that is somewhat difficult to make out, mostly due to its thinness. She has sandy brown hair that reaches her chin, so as to keep out of her way should anything escalate. She was raised to be ready, though she doesn’t have much experience with fisticuffs, she is a shaman. She has some been taught in the ways of some offensive magic, though most of it is incredibly weak and relying on a source of natural magick. Which would naturally bring one to her earrings. They are a bright emerald green, quite like her eyes. While they do look fairly similar to one another, it would take a Shaman to notice the difference. The left earring is a slightly different shade of green, closer in hue to a turquoise, but only slightly. The left itself contains a healing magick contained from a spring within a magical subsection of the forests. While the right contains a spell which will escalate the growth of foliage rapidly, a more defensive technique.
Fæla speaks in a low, rather flat tone most of the time. However she isn’t a robot. She feels emotions like everyone else, most of the time she just chooses not to outwardly express it. As such she often comes across as disinterested and uncaring her rigid facial features only complement this opinion. Though she has been known to show a great deal of respect to those who have earned it, affording them a few smiles here and there. Fæla is uncertain often about how to go about interacting with others and often has a rather unfriendly posture and way about her during conversation, not making direct eye contact and speaking in short sentences.
Her mark is. In truth, her scar. Beginning on the bridge of her nose, more and more lacerations over her body before fully consuming her, looking as though she has suffered a complete body-wide devastation, suffering many of the deep but thin scars all across her body. These show up predominantly on her back, shoulders, calves and face.
She has bright green eyes that would surprise most. As they stand out so glaringly amongst her olive complexion. She has a deep but thin scar running diagonally along her nose that is somewhat difficult to make out, mostly due to its thinness. She has sandy brown hair that reaches her chin, so as to keep out of her way should anything escalate. She was raised to be ready, though she doesn’t have much experience with fisticuffs, she is a shaman. She has some been taught in the ways of some offensive magic, though most of it is incredibly weak and relying on a source of natural magick. Which would naturally bring one to her earrings. They are a bright emerald green, quite like her eyes. While they do look fairly similar to one another, it would take a Shaman to notice the difference. The left earring is a slightly different shade of green, closer in hue to a turquoise, but only slightly. The left itself contains a healing magick contained from a spring within a magical subsection of the forests. While the right contains a spell which will escalate the growth of foliage rapidly, a more defensive technique.
Fæla speaks in a low, rather flat tone most of the time. However she isn’t a robot. She feels emotions like everyone else, most of the time she just chooses not to outwardly express it. As such she often comes across as disinterested and uncaring her rigid facial features only complement this opinion. Though she has been known to show a great deal of respect to those who have earned it, affording them a few smiles here and there. Fæla is uncertain often about how to go about interacting with others and often has a rather unfriendly posture and way about her during conversation, not making direct eye contact and speaking in short sentences.
Her mark is. In truth, her scar. Beginning on the bridge of her nose, more and more lacerations over her body before fully consuming her, looking as though she has suffered a complete body-wide devastation, suffering many of the deep but thin scars all across her body. These show up predominantly on her back, shoulders, calves and face.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
" Fæla is a no-nonsense kind of woman. She rarely finds herself interacting with others because of a want, rather she interacts with them out of necessity. As such, she can come across as very informed, knowing very much about a topic before further questioning about it. However, on the off chance Fæla is uneducated about a topic and speaking to someone who knows what they’re talking about she is respectful and attentive. If one were to strike up conversation with her it would fully depend on where she was and what was happening at the time to gauge her reactions. For example, at a tribe gathering, it is an expected consequence and she would entertain the conversation, remaining rather polite. However, if someone were to approach her during her studies of the arcane or another time of focus, she would not entertain the thought.
Fæla, unsurprisingly perhaps has a slightly more wicked side to her. Often choosing whether to help someone based on whether or not it is helpful to her or not. There is a slight compunction to this however, as if a situation is life or death, Fæla has a hard time resisting helping the victim. This is notable due to the fact that she doesn’t like the feeling of compassion she gets. She doesn’t understand why people perform noble deeds, and yet she has been the performer of quite a few over time. Above all else, however, Fæla will always fall back on the conviction that the cycle of this planet will reset any imbalance.
Fæla views the arcane as what should be the most dominant field of study for this world’s people. Able to create incredible results with even a beginner’s knowledge only proves this more. As such Fæla has devoted her life to uncovering everything she can about the magic that surrounds this world. Becoming something of a master in the field. However, to say that she is a master in the field of which many do not even know exists is not saying much. Of course, that isn’t to say she is uneducated, but it has required a lot of risks gaining the knowledge and experience she has. "
Fæla, unsurprisingly perhaps has a slightly more wicked side to her. Often choosing whether to help someone based on whether or not it is helpful to her or not. There is a slight compunction to this however, as if a situation is life or death, Fæla has a hard time resisting helping the victim. This is notable due to the fact that she doesn’t like the feeling of compassion she gets. She doesn’t understand why people perform noble deeds, and yet she has been the performer of quite a few over time. Above all else, however, Fæla will always fall back on the conviction that the cycle of this planet will reset any imbalance.
Fæla views the arcane as what should be the most dominant field of study for this world’s people. Able to create incredible results with even a beginner’s knowledge only proves this more. As such Fæla has devoted her life to uncovering everything she can about the magic that surrounds this world. Becoming something of a master in the field. However, to say that she is a master in the field of which many do not even know exists is not saying much. Of course, that isn’t to say she is uneducated, but it has required a lot of risks gaining the knowledge and experience she has. "
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Fæla, from a young age felt as though she was on the cusp of discovering something massive. While she has already made leaps and bounds into the fields of the arcane and magick in general, she has yet to truly discover what this means for the greater world at large. Especially considering she has little to no idea who she is.
See, Fæla feels as though she isn’t supposed to be where she is, but she has no idea what spurs these feelings and paradoxically at her most relaxed and sensible she feels the strongest about this. Still, through all of her studies she is simply a girl, a girl who may know a lot about a world not many do. But one day she will die just like anyone else put on this earth and she isn’t special in that regard.
This is something that Fæla has had a hard time coming to grips with and has kept her up plenty of nights. Thinking about how she can possibly make her life mean something. She isn’t even sure what she wants it to mean, after all – what could one as small as her on a scale as magical and cosmic as the world she assuredly lives in truly do? Could it be true that the flapping wings of a butterfly could one day create a hurricane? Had she already done something so grand? Would she ever know if she did?
These were the questions eight year old Fæla struggled with since she saw the stars at night and the wisps dancing in the woods. She knew that there was something more to be found in this world. Which is why when she turned ten years old she devoted her life to shamanism. This would be the first time she would venture into the magical section of the woods. Being a young girl in the Abaneki tribe, this was strictly forbade. She was not to enter the forest under any circumstances, lest something terrible should happen to her. Her mother and father were the main source of this ideology, but most of the men in the Abaneki tribe echoed it. They were a prideful man, and as such, they were a protective man. This spurred only more temptation for Fæla. She wanted to know.
The first time Fæla attempted to wander into the forest her father had caught her, and punished her for not listening. He wasn’t a very strict man, punishment was lessons on how to tan a hide and create artwork from that. Fæla was pretty good at creating dreamcatchers. But even that upset her father. She wished it to magically take the bad dreams from your mind, leaving only the good. He felt betrayed. He had done so well at raining her with compassion. And yet here was this rebellious girl, not like the others in the Abaneki tribe, even though it would be so satisfying for her to just conform.
This along with the fact that he had caught her training to fight with an oaken stick. He simply wasn't sure what to do about his daughter. He chastised her day in and day out for her sparring, her insistence on using magic and studying it.
One night, when Fæla was just ten years old she was sent to fetch some water for the evening soup. On her way to the well she met a perimeter guard. He recognized her as the crazy girl who wanted to go into the forest. Not much of a surprise really, the Abaneki were known to fit into their respective roles and Fæla stuck out terribly in that situation. He approached her and asked if she was alright. She didn’t respond, simply walked past him.
“You should follow your heart little one.” He said as Fæla stopped dead in her tracks. The forest was in front of her and the man was behind her. If he was telling the truth…
The bucket hit the ground, while her feet pounded it. She sprinted as quickly as she could until she found herself unaware of where she was. The noises she heard were completely non-descript. Or perhaps they would’ve been rather specific. But it was like entering into a new world once more, she had no idea where she was, what she was hearing, in this forest, everything was possible. She wandered for hours. She met a few spirits who seemed to regard the little girl with interest, though it quickly faded. It was magical.
But by the time she found the exit, there was a mighty light.
The sun.
She had spent all night in the forest, not sure whether or not it had really felt like an entire night. She wasn’t sure.
By the time a search party found her she was the subject of hot debate. A child had wandered into a forbidden section of the forest and come out unscathed. Her father debated long and hard with the head’s of the tribe. A little girl had to be disciplined. She could not be wandering into the forest, what if something had happened? What if she came out scathed?
Why didn’t anything happen?
The heads of the tribe became interested in Fæla climaxing in them allowing her to renter the forest with supervision once she was thirteen. She walked in with two very proud men from the Abaneki tribe. As soon as the noises and sensations came back, alerting her that she was in the forest, the men were gone. Instead, she was alone and she had found herself in a cave. A snake the size of a tree trunk was there with her and it hissed at her with the voice of a woman.
“What bringsss you here little one?”
“I am here because I love it here. Are you a spirit as well?”
“I am…. What did you wish to take from this foressssst?”
“Nothing but experience.”
“Very well, enjoy your ssstay.”
The snake began to slither away before doubling back faster than Fæla could react. “Why shouldn’t I consume you here? You and your lussst for knowledge?”
“There is no reason. But would you rather I returned and learned, or a tribe return and destroy?” Fæla posed the question to the spirit. It hadn’t answered any of her questions up until this point.
Silently it slithered away. Leaving a content Fæla to explore once more. By the time she had returned she felt as though she was on the precipice of learning something great. She had a general understanding of how magic worked in this world, but not how to translate that into using it. Upon exiting the forest, she saw the tribe had gathered at the edge of the forest. Once more she had a gleam in her eyes, but she was completely unscathed. That wasn’t how it had worked out for the two guards. They lied dead at the edge of the forest. She wondered what they told the snake.
The nobles had to deliberate once more.
A girl who could enter the forest and return unharmed? That would be useful. But they had a reputation.
It stayed in this stasis for two more years.
When she was fifteen towards the falls, it was an area that she frequented for bathing purposes, sometimes simply for relaxation as well. When she reached the falls she found a water spirit, glancing into its own reflection. She sat there, still as can be, and she watched as it deliberated upon itself. It couldn’t decide what it wanted from the reflection, or perhaps it couldn’t decide what it was looking at. What its role was in this giant cosmic canvas, perhaps it was like her. In her careful examination of the spirit, she saw it draw something. It was as if the spirit had finger painted into the very water itself. A sigil had formed. Fæla didn’t know how long the spirit would stay, but she needed to find out what that rune was. She waited for two hours before deciding perhaps her presence would scare the spirit off. So she cautiously exited the brush.
The spirit saw her and immediately retreated, but not far enough to be out of sight. Fæla kept a watchful eye on the spirit as she approached the run, dragging her now soaking pants through the water of the falls. She reached the sigil and for a brief second she felt as though her mind had expanded, physically. It was a searing pain, she knew, in that moment what the sigil was. But it was too late, the water reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her in. She struggled against it, but it was as if someone had been holding her down forcefully. She had been gifted with beautiful knowledge of what could be, or what she could learn further. But she felt her body forcing her to breathe. She would die in these falls, the men of the Abaneki would be proven right. She shouldn’t have wandered out further.
A hand.
She grabbed it, digging her nails into the flesh and letting it pull her up out of the water. By the time she had caught her breath she recognized the man. It was the same one who had told her that night to follow her dreams, the first time she had gone into the forest when she was a child. He smiled at her, she choked and hit the ground, gasping to refill her blood with oxygen. She knew.
She immediately scrawled a design into the mud as some other tribe guards ran up. The mud shot up, in a small almost ball like form and landed back on the ground. Many things happened in that instant. Silence fell over everyone in the falls. Fæla felt as though she had just exercised a muscle that was dormant her entire life, and a new Shaman was elected for the Abaneki tribe.
Word quickly spread about the sixteen year old Shaman of the Abaneki tribe. Now she is headed to the gathering. Technically speaking she must also take part in a coming of age ceremony now that she has reached 19 years old.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
See, Fæla feels as though she isn’t supposed to be where she is, but she has no idea what spurs these feelings and paradoxically at her most relaxed and sensible she feels the strongest about this. Still, through all of her studies she is simply a girl, a girl who may know a lot about a world not many do. But one day she will die just like anyone else put on this earth and she isn’t special in that regard.
This is something that Fæla has had a hard time coming to grips with and has kept her up plenty of nights. Thinking about how she can possibly make her life mean something. She isn’t even sure what she wants it to mean, after all – what could one as small as her on a scale as magical and cosmic as the world she assuredly lives in truly do? Could it be true that the flapping wings of a butterfly could one day create a hurricane? Had she already done something so grand? Would she ever know if she did?
These were the questions eight year old Fæla struggled with since she saw the stars at night and the wisps dancing in the woods. She knew that there was something more to be found in this world. Which is why when she turned ten years old she devoted her life to shamanism. This would be the first time she would venture into the magical section of the woods. Being a young girl in the Abaneki tribe, this was strictly forbade. She was not to enter the forest under any circumstances, lest something terrible should happen to her. Her mother and father were the main source of this ideology, but most of the men in the Abaneki tribe echoed it. They were a prideful man, and as such, they were a protective man. This spurred only more temptation for Fæla. She wanted to know.
The first time Fæla attempted to wander into the forest her father had caught her, and punished her for not listening. He wasn’t a very strict man, punishment was lessons on how to tan a hide and create artwork from that. Fæla was pretty good at creating dreamcatchers. But even that upset her father. She wished it to magically take the bad dreams from your mind, leaving only the good. He felt betrayed. He had done so well at raining her with compassion. And yet here was this rebellious girl, not like the others in the Abaneki tribe, even though it would be so satisfying for her to just conform.
This along with the fact that he had caught her training to fight with an oaken stick. He simply wasn't sure what to do about his daughter. He chastised her day in and day out for her sparring, her insistence on using magic and studying it.
One night, when Fæla was just ten years old she was sent to fetch some water for the evening soup. On her way to the well she met a perimeter guard. He recognized her as the crazy girl who wanted to go into the forest. Not much of a surprise really, the Abaneki were known to fit into their respective roles and Fæla stuck out terribly in that situation. He approached her and asked if she was alright. She didn’t respond, simply walked past him.
“You should follow your heart little one.” He said as Fæla stopped dead in her tracks. The forest was in front of her and the man was behind her. If he was telling the truth…
The bucket hit the ground, while her feet pounded it. She sprinted as quickly as she could until she found herself unaware of where she was. The noises she heard were completely non-descript. Or perhaps they would’ve been rather specific. But it was like entering into a new world once more, she had no idea where she was, what she was hearing, in this forest, everything was possible. She wandered for hours. She met a few spirits who seemed to regard the little girl with interest, though it quickly faded. It was magical.
But by the time she found the exit, there was a mighty light.
The sun.
She had spent all night in the forest, not sure whether or not it had really felt like an entire night. She wasn’t sure.
By the time a search party found her she was the subject of hot debate. A child had wandered into a forbidden section of the forest and come out unscathed. Her father debated long and hard with the head’s of the tribe. A little girl had to be disciplined. She could not be wandering into the forest, what if something had happened? What if she came out scathed?
Why didn’t anything happen?
The heads of the tribe became interested in Fæla climaxing in them allowing her to renter the forest with supervision once she was thirteen. She walked in with two very proud men from the Abaneki tribe. As soon as the noises and sensations came back, alerting her that she was in the forest, the men were gone. Instead, she was alone and she had found herself in a cave. A snake the size of a tree trunk was there with her and it hissed at her with the voice of a woman.
“What bringsss you here little one?”
“I am here because I love it here. Are you a spirit as well?”
“I am…. What did you wish to take from this foressssst?”
“Nothing but experience.”
“Very well, enjoy your ssstay.”
The snake began to slither away before doubling back faster than Fæla could react. “Why shouldn’t I consume you here? You and your lussst for knowledge?”
“There is no reason. But would you rather I returned and learned, or a tribe return and destroy?” Fæla posed the question to the spirit. It hadn’t answered any of her questions up until this point.
Silently it slithered away. Leaving a content Fæla to explore once more. By the time she had returned she felt as though she was on the precipice of learning something great. She had a general understanding of how magic worked in this world, but not how to translate that into using it. Upon exiting the forest, she saw the tribe had gathered at the edge of the forest. Once more she had a gleam in her eyes, but she was completely unscathed. That wasn’t how it had worked out for the two guards. They lied dead at the edge of the forest. She wondered what they told the snake.
The nobles had to deliberate once more.
A girl who could enter the forest and return unharmed? That would be useful. But they had a reputation.
It stayed in this stasis for two more years.
When she was fifteen towards the falls, it was an area that she frequented for bathing purposes, sometimes simply for relaxation as well. When she reached the falls she found a water spirit, glancing into its own reflection. She sat there, still as can be, and she watched as it deliberated upon itself. It couldn’t decide what it wanted from the reflection, or perhaps it couldn’t decide what it was looking at. What its role was in this giant cosmic canvas, perhaps it was like her. In her careful examination of the spirit, she saw it draw something. It was as if the spirit had finger painted into the very water itself. A sigil had formed. Fæla didn’t know how long the spirit would stay, but she needed to find out what that rune was. She waited for two hours before deciding perhaps her presence would scare the spirit off. So she cautiously exited the brush.
The spirit saw her and immediately retreated, but not far enough to be out of sight. Fæla kept a watchful eye on the spirit as she approached the run, dragging her now soaking pants through the water of the falls. She reached the sigil and for a brief second she felt as though her mind had expanded, physically. It was a searing pain, she knew, in that moment what the sigil was. But it was too late, the water reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her in. She struggled against it, but it was as if someone had been holding her down forcefully. She had been gifted with beautiful knowledge of what could be, or what she could learn further. But she felt her body forcing her to breathe. She would die in these falls, the men of the Abaneki would be proven right. She shouldn’t have wandered out further.
A hand.
She grabbed it, digging her nails into the flesh and letting it pull her up out of the water. By the time she had caught her breath she recognized the man. It was the same one who had told her that night to follow her dreams, the first time she had gone into the forest when she was a child. He smiled at her, she choked and hit the ground, gasping to refill her blood with oxygen. She knew.
She immediately scrawled a design into the mud as some other tribe guards ran up. The mud shot up, in a small almost ball like form and landed back on the ground. Many things happened in that instant. Silence fell over everyone in the falls. Fæla felt as though she had just exercised a muscle that was dormant her entire life, and a new Shaman was elected for the Abaneki tribe.
Word quickly spread about the sixteen year old Shaman of the Abaneki tribe. Now she is headed to the gathering. Technically speaking she must also take part in a coming of age ceremony now that she has reached 19 years old.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Aeterna ⥥ Law, Order, Restriction ⥥ Female ⥥ Homosexual ⍚
DARK GOD
“That Justice is a blind goddess
Is a thing to which we are wise
Her bandages hides two festering sores
That once perhaps were eyes.”
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Aeterna is a confusing goddess to look upon. At a first glance one would immediately note her very human appearance. Standing only at five foot eight inches. Of course, she does sport a rather interesting set of armour. Seemingly battle-worn and steel in nature, it’s scrapes and cuts look absolutely radiant in the light, as if each bump and indention was a glorious medal from a fight gone by. Her shimmering lilac eyes are all too piercing, seeing you for as less than a metric, as an amalgamation of beliefs and choices you have made. She carries with her a tall spear, taller even than herself. She has a heavy blonde braid that is pushed down her right shoulder and ends past her hip, seemingly made of sunlight it too shines with any amount of light that graces it.
She is flanked by two knights. One of whom is kind, he has a shield and sword with him, he wishes to protect the innocent. The other knight holds with him a broadsword. Heavy, and rusted, it has seen the insides of too many a man to be truly called a weapon of self-defense. Those who wonder long enough who the third knight is and where he stands are either very lucky or have that as there final thoughts.
She is flanked by two knights. One of whom is kind, he has a shield and sword with him, he wishes to protect the innocent. The other knight holds with him a broadsword. Heavy, and rusted, it has seen the insides of too many a man to be truly called a weapon of self-defense. Those who wonder long enough who the third knight is and where he stands are either very lucky or have that as there final thoughts.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- A goddess that many are confused about. How can a malevolent goddess like Aeterna rule the domain of law, let alone order? She has many supporters despite her mythological status as a dark goddess due to this confusion.
- Many who fear death fear facing her for their actions in life. She is known, somewhat, as a gatekeeper of sorts. Though many consider the fact that if you see her, she wanted to see you. Which is very bad.
- The symbolism of a woman flanked by two knights, one apathetic and the other vitriolic is common iconography for law and order.
- Many who fear death fear facing her for their actions in life. She is known, somewhat, as a gatekeeper of sorts. Though many consider the fact that if you see her, she wanted to see you. Which is very bad.
- The symbolism of a woman flanked by two knights, one apathetic and the other vitriolic is common iconography for law and order.
[ ⍚ ] 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
Aeterna is a dark god whose domain is held in high regards to the common-folk. This has created a dangerous strength in her number of worshippers and general knowledge of her. Her status as a dark goddess unknown to humans, however some of the older generations may remember a tale of Aeterna that serves as a reminder of her morality.
A man wandered into Aeterna’s court, he was sullen, surprised, yet quiet and sad. She asked him what he had done and he took a few moments to answer. He had left his mother to die. Surely an easy crime, but Aeterna was nothing if not thorough.
“Where did you leave your mother for dead?” Her voice quietly boomed.
“In the desert.” The man said not lifting his head to meet the goddesses gaze. He knew not that this was a commonality amongst the guiltiest of guests in her court. Not something that surprised Aeterna one bit.
“Then tell me your tale.” Aeterna decreed, and so he began.
“I was a soldier, I fought to keep my family safe, to keep my land safe. I fought to protect never to kill. Yet it is not the bravest and most noble that win at the end of the eve. It was those who were willing to take demons upon their hearts, to beg for a dark victory, as surely it was better than a loss. It was them that forced my people into the desert. We were seven hundred with food for two hundred. Many of the soldiers decided to turn back, either bargaining for their lives or attempting to fight back into the city. Pray tell what came of them, for I have no idea.”
“They were slaughtered, all of them.” Aeterna said with not a trickle of emotion disturbing the calm waters of her voice.
“I thought that may’ve been the case.” The soldier said.
“Continue.”
“We few who stayed with the women in children were given enough food and water to be healtyh, but before long the weak of heart grew weak of body and their hearts became corrupt with the thirst. Attempting to steal the water… They too had to be purged, like the ones who had come upon our town, the ones who let demons into their hearts. T’was not long before we found ourselves nearly empty on supplies, my mother told me to leave her, to save more children for they had brighter tomorrows and many more of them at that.”
“So I did.”
“I thank you for your honesty, dear solider. I will not leave you guilty for abandoning your mother, an elderly woman should get to choose the method of her own death and if deprivation was her answer, so be it.”
“Thank you, my goddess.”
“I am not yours to behold solider. I find you guilty of waging war, practicing wrath, and slaughtering the youth of another nation. You will join the other soldiers who fought to save your city. Now begone.”
A solemn tale to be sure. It reminds us that while justice may be necessary, in hands too pure or too obsessed it can be a necessary evil, when it need not be at all.
A man wandered into Aeterna’s court, he was sullen, surprised, yet quiet and sad. She asked him what he had done and he took a few moments to answer. He had left his mother to die. Surely an easy crime, but Aeterna was nothing if not thorough.
“Where did you leave your mother for dead?” Her voice quietly boomed.
“In the desert.” The man said not lifting his head to meet the goddesses gaze. He knew not that this was a commonality amongst the guiltiest of guests in her court. Not something that surprised Aeterna one bit.
“Then tell me your tale.” Aeterna decreed, and so he began.
“I was a soldier, I fought to keep my family safe, to keep my land safe. I fought to protect never to kill. Yet it is not the bravest and most noble that win at the end of the eve. It was those who were willing to take demons upon their hearts, to beg for a dark victory, as surely it was better than a loss. It was them that forced my people into the desert. We were seven hundred with food for two hundred. Many of the soldiers decided to turn back, either bargaining for their lives or attempting to fight back into the city. Pray tell what came of them, for I have no idea.”
“They were slaughtered, all of them.” Aeterna said with not a trickle of emotion disturbing the calm waters of her voice.
“I thought that may’ve been the case.” The soldier said.
“Continue.”
“We few who stayed with the women in children were given enough food and water to be healtyh, but before long the weak of heart grew weak of body and their hearts became corrupt with the thirst. Attempting to steal the water… They too had to be purged, like the ones who had come upon our town, the ones who let demons into their hearts. T’was not long before we found ourselves nearly empty on supplies, my mother told me to leave her, to save more children for they had brighter tomorrows and many more of them at that.”
“So I did.”
“I thank you for your honesty, dear solider. I will not leave you guilty for abandoning your mother, an elderly woman should get to choose the method of her own death and if deprivation was her answer, so be it.”
“Thank you, my goddess.”
“I am not yours to behold solider. I find you guilty of waging war, practicing wrath, and slaughtering the youth of another nation. You will join the other soldiers who fought to save your city. Now begone.”
A solemn tale to be sure. It reminds us that while justice may be necessary, in hands too pure or too obsessed it can be a necessary evil, when it need not be at all.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Magical Awareness - Survival Fæla is incredibly aware of magical beings and the tracks they may leave. Easily able to track the arcane like a hunter may track a wild animal. She, of course cannot hunt wild animals as she is no-hunter. But she will easily recognize signs of arcane or magical creatures.
- Walking Stick - Combat Fæla uses a walking stick, which most would consider rather odd for a 19 year old girl. She typically uses a walking stick as a canvas for runes, but past that she uses it for combat similar to fighting with a staff. The walking stick has a certain heft to that easily allows her to deliver a strong concussive force to limbs or the head, easily incapacitating someone. It has a certain amount of surprise, however clashing with an edged weapon is obviously a horrible idea. But a normal steel that isn’t edged wouldn’t completely destroy the walking stick. The one she currently has is oaken.
- Shaman - General Fæla may not know much about magic in the way that someone could learn history. But she knows it like she knows how to breathe. She has garnered an innate understanding that X will lead to Y as far as magic is concerned and her intuition when based on Magic is often times incredibly accurate, even if she can't adequately explain her thinking. This is primarily due to her interaction with magic first hand and prolonged exposure to it.
- Awe-Inspiring – General While Fæla doesn’t show it off much, she is actually an incredible public speaker. She can speak to groups rather well due to the systematic and calculating way in which she observers conversation and human emotion.
- Arcanist – General/Combat When a rune is created, it is bound to your character's magic. The basic jist of this is that, once placed, the effectiveness is taken from your character's state and dedication to the magic - e.g. how long she spent forming the rune, any rare reagents she gathered to imbue it with, what her concerntration is like at key points in time, her lifeforce)
What this means: A rune you've flung together in one post isn't going to last as long or be as powerful as one you carefully created over weeks, travelled to the four corners of the realm to gather rare reagents for, and then got five people for 24 hours to cast together after fasting for a week and doing purification rituals. So, this means you can, as a player, invest the amount of time, effort and danger into a rune based on your situation. Helping a farmer's ewe give birth safely? probably not going to need more then a paragraph. Preparing for the final end RP battle? you can start preparing for it in advance, and decide what amount of danger you're willing to put your character in to do it. Anyway, next point.
Just as someone would get tired from battling, climbing, running, swimming, ect. and become worse at something, so are runes tied to a character's mental fatigue. While it is possible for a rune to decay (e.g. if you leave it alone for a month and come back, it has a high chance to be less potent then before) what I am more interested in is mental fatigue while actively using the rune. e.g. if you placed a warding rune around your camp at night, it would be considered active while it is working. Whereas if you placed a warding rune and then dismantled your camp and decided to camp elsewhere, that rune is dormant if you're not using it, therefore not taking energy to sustain. Kind of like an off/on switch - if the rune is "on", then it's taking some energy to maintain.
Fatigue depends on a few things - a hastily thrown together rune is less resource-efficient then one carefully thought about. Similarly, a powerful rune takes more to maintain then a simple one.
So here are a few example situations - if you're using a combat rune in the heat of battle, and your opponent nearly slits your throat, breaking your concentration for the moment, your runes are less effective for the time it takes for you to get your head back in the game.
Another example - say you were nearly dying in a cave somewhere after being ravaged by wolves, and had a ward rune up. Normally in this situation, the rune would soon fail and you would be set upon by the wolves. However, if you character was dedicating the last of all their mental effort sustaining the rune while they awaited rescue, that's a very different take on the situation.
As for their effect, you can imbue a rune with a property (e.g. defensive, offensive, nature fertility, luck, ect) with some properties being more difficult then others (e.g. luck being harder). They work over an area of effect (larger areas taking more mental resources) and last a period of time, their effectiveness decreasing over time unless Faela does regular maintenance on them (which is easier/cheaper then making a rune from scratch, but still requires some effort and sometimes resources depending on the nature of the rune) Since every rune will basically be unique they'll each have their own roll tables based on how they were setup, Faela's situation ect. and because of this they are in some ways a chaotic form of magic, their use never always being exactly what you expect. But their reliability increases with effort used to create them.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 20/20
Innocence: Weakest Ability
I hereby judge you innocent, free to pursue your earthly desires and create memories once again.
Swift Hand: Decreases the amount of time it takes to create a rune, allows their creation to be more specific.
Arraignment: Fæla is able to draw magick from the world, boosting all of her physical aspects and creating a feeling similar to being at peak physicality. However, it should be noted that this does not create combat experience where Fæla notably possesses none.
Decree: Fæla can order a creature of lesser intelligence, like an animal, to take a simple action that they must complete if physically possible. Technically speaking, if it is something that someone would typically do, it could work on them. Small children may also be susceptible. If the command can no longer be completed or there is substantial risk to the creature/child, the hold on the creature or child is broken. The decree will wear off naturally after a period of time.
Guilty: Moderate Ability
I have found you guilty, I am sorry for whatever possessed you to make the decisions you have – but truly, this world is better off. Begone.
Grand Jury: Fæla can create a permanent telepathic link between a group of up to six people. It works similarly to speaking, one must choose to communicate through this method, but you cannot choose not to hear someone speaking through this method.
Cross Examination: Fæla is able to activate this ability, which will summon her two knights to her side. She must ask three questions. Two answers will be true and one will be a lie. These questions can be anything and the knights, if telling the truth will give an in depth answer.
Arraignment: Fæla is able to draw magick from the world, boosting all of her physical aspects and creating a feeling similar to being at peak physicality. However, it should be noted that this does not create combat experience where Fæla notably possesses none.
Decree: Fæla can order a creature of lesser intelligence, like an animal, to take a simple action that they must complete if physically possible. Technically speaking, if it is something that someone would typically do, it could work on them. Small children may also be susceptible. If the command can no longer be completed or there is substantial risk to the creature/child, the hold on the creature or child is broken. The decree will wear off naturally after a period of time.
Guilty: Moderate Ability
I have found you guilty, I am sorry for whatever possessed you to make the decisions you have – but truly, this world is better off. Begone.
Hearsay: Shielding herself and potentially others, Fæla absorbs a magical attack dispersing it as magick back into the world. This of course has drastic, direct, and immediate effects on the environment as flora and fauna alike will experience a boom like no other, rapidly triggering growth and potentially even evolution. It should be noted that while this can block magical attacks, there are two exceptions. If the attack contains any physical component that will not be absorbed, and secondly, she cannot block attacks that consume more life force than this ability. Only the same and lesser life force abilities can be blocked effectively.
Grand Jury: Fæla can create a permanent telepathic link between a group of up to six people. It works similarly to speaking, one must choose to communicate through this method, but you cannot choose not to hear someone speaking through this method.
Cross Examination: Fæla is able to activate this ability, which will summon her two knights to her side. She must ask three questions. Two answers will be true and one will be a lie. These questions can be anything and the knights, if telling the truth will give an in depth answer.
Contempt: Strongest Ability
I will hold you in contempt. Please prepare to meet the third knight and your ultimate end. This is everything you will experience for the rest of time. Goodbye.
The Third Knight: Fæla taking the place of the third knight summons her holy lance, able to pierce even steel, trees and most things. Fæla must announce the names of those she wishes to kill or injure with this weapon, else the weapon will not strike them but go right through the target’s body.
Deposition: By calling upon the arcane lay lines of the world, requiring a specific incantation depending on the element being required. Fæla gains some elemental manipulation for a short amount of time. This should be noted to be manipulation. She can only manipulate that which is already there. This could be as strong as controlling the tide, possibly creating an undertow to pull someone underneath, throw flame from a torch at someone, force rain to storm down upon one person . This ability however cannot affect plants as they are not elements, they are living organisms. This limits Fæla to water, fire, and sand/dirt/stone. This ability can last for a day.
Verdict: Fæla channeling her entire life force, ending her own life can instill an absolute truth on one person. The only thing she cannot do is bend the laws of physics. She can cause someone to fall in love with another, give someone a deadly disease, create the best fighter someone has ever seen, make someone the luckiest person possible and so on/so forth.
Deposition: By calling upon the arcane lay lines of the world, requiring a specific incantation depending on the element being required. Fæla gains some elemental manipulation for a short amount of time. This should be noted to be manipulation. She can only manipulate that which is already there. This could be as strong as controlling the tide, possibly creating an undertow to pull someone underneath, throw flame from a torch at someone, force rain to storm down upon one person . This ability however cannot affect plants as they are not elements, they are living organisms. This limits Fæla to water, fire, and sand/dirt/stone. This ability can last for a day.
Verdict: Fæla channeling her entire life force, ending her own life can instill an absolute truth on one person. The only thing she cannot do is bend the laws of physics. She can cause someone to fall in love with another, give someone a deadly disease, create the best fighter someone has ever seen, make someone the luckiest person possible and so on/so forth.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
Her walking stick with a defensive rune carved into the bottom, nearly impossible to see without actually looking at the bottom of the walking stick.
A Shaman’s kit – basically think healing herbs, and the like for treating magical illness and what have you.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: Color=#6495ed.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Sure thing!
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
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⍚ Gaia ⥥ 20 ⥥ Female ⥥ Bisexual ⍚
“Since the beginning of time, I believe only humanity was truly wild."
“ The forest that once was green
Was colored black by those killing machines
But she and her furry friends
Took down the queen bee and her men
And that's how the story goes,
The story of the beast with those four dirty paws”
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
"Gaia is a hunter. She often wears furs and can be picked out of a crowd by her pale blonde hair and her tribal markings that cover her face. She is a member of the Longear tribe and as such sports some of the features notable to the tribe. An example of this is her formidable jawline. She stands at around six feet and three inches making her incredibly tall for a woman her age and has a toned body. She has to, as she is the champion of the Longear tribe.
Among her notable traits, Gaia’s voice may stand even above her prowess in combat. She is noted by many in the tribe to be an absolutely lovely singer, even those from other tribes may’ve heard of her voice. It is prolific. Often times it is a simple beautiful tone that resonates like a ripple of water across a silent pond. However, as far as notable traits go her combat prowess has left her with an absolutely fit body. She is easily able to topple an Elk should she tackle it and it shows as she looks almost Amazonian.
Gaia has small features. A freckled face a small nose and small beady eyes. The freckles on her face cover the top half more prominently, her forehead is almost entirely dominated by the pigmentation. Her pale blonde hair is also unruly, much like the Longear tribe in general. It is pushed back over her head and descends past both of her shoulders with ease. When she is preparing for single combat or a tournament perhaps, she ties her hair into a single braid that nearly descends her entire spine.
Gaia’s posture could be better, she often sits with her feet resting on the table and has little consideration of formality. However, when she respects someone enough to behave, she will. During a fight Gaia is at her perfect center. She is perfectly calm, prepared and calculating. Which can be intimidating when she is facing someone in single combat. Her eyes grow heavy with analysis and her breath slows almost to a halt. She is truly a force to be reckoned with and it is clear to see from a simple glance.
Gaia’s mark is by all means, beautiful. But it is very pronounced. It starts at her spine in a beautiful swirling, winding tree trunk. But soon after the roots begin to take place. It is a brown mark, somewhat faded and muted in colour. Once the roots begin to take place they appear over all of her veins. Twisting and turning over her legs, arms, stomach, neck and even face. By the time the mark has fully consumed Gaia she has less of her typically pale skin colour than she does the roots on her skin. Her eyes seem to glow a faint white light and her skin cracks like tree bark."
Among her notable traits, Gaia’s voice may stand even above her prowess in combat. She is noted by many in the tribe to be an absolutely lovely singer, even those from other tribes may’ve heard of her voice. It is prolific. Often times it is a simple beautiful tone that resonates like a ripple of water across a silent pond. However, as far as notable traits go her combat prowess has left her with an absolutely fit body. She is easily able to topple an Elk should she tackle it and it shows as she looks almost Amazonian.
Gaia has small features. A freckled face a small nose and small beady eyes. The freckles on her face cover the top half more prominently, her forehead is almost entirely dominated by the pigmentation. Her pale blonde hair is also unruly, much like the Longear tribe in general. It is pushed back over her head and descends past both of her shoulders with ease. When she is preparing for single combat or a tournament perhaps, she ties her hair into a single braid that nearly descends her entire spine.
Gaia’s posture could be better, she often sits with her feet resting on the table and has little consideration of formality. However, when she respects someone enough to behave, she will. During a fight Gaia is at her perfect center. She is perfectly calm, prepared and calculating. Which can be intimidating when she is facing someone in single combat. Her eyes grow heavy with analysis and her breath slows almost to a halt. She is truly a force to be reckoned with and it is clear to see from a simple glance.
Gaia’s mark is by all means, beautiful. But it is very pronounced. It starts at her spine in a beautiful swirling, winding tree trunk. But soon after the roots begin to take place. It is a brown mark, somewhat faded and muted in colour. Once the roots begin to take place they appear over all of her veins. Twisting and turning over her legs, arms, stomach, neck and even face. By the time the mark has fully consumed Gaia she has less of her typically pale skin colour than she does the roots on her skin. Her eyes seem to glow a faint white light and her skin cracks like tree bark."
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
"Gaia is quiet, but incredibly inquisitive. She has always been curious. From when she first saw two men drunkenly fighting when she was five and they were drunk. She began to mirror their movements before a Longear tribe warrior got a hold of her and showed her true form. Ever since she has been obsessed with combat, as she often times has trouble connecting with others. She has never had problems connecting with those she fights however. She seems to gain a deeper understanding of others when she clashes with them.
Outside of combat Gaia wishes to be useful among other things. She has always sought acceptance from others and often times can be found keeping busy when the tribe has made camp, even on the longest journey. She can go from protecting the vanguard during a long walk to hunting all night to feed the young children and elderly in the morning. This is actually one of Gaia’s chief faults. She runs her body dry of energy and sleep deprivation often and tends to fall asleep for obscene amounts of time when she returns from things like a three day hunt. It has been especially noted by the Longear tribe chieftain and his sons. As their champion Gaia feels a sense of duty that she would never allow to come second in anything. She is their sword and more importantly their sword arm. She fights for them.
Gaia has an issue when it comes to not burning bridges, as well. As she is often times unaware of when she completely offends someone. As such, she does not apologize often. Not out of a sense of pride or something along those lines, rather she simply does not understand when an apology would be appreciated.
Gaia’s morals are fast and loose. She understands the way in which the world works and does not have a problem with it. She is aware of slavery, death, children disappearing and understands that this is part of a cycle. She simply does not view herself with autonomy enough to care about these things. Should her chieftain tell her to kill a man for his crimes against the Longear tribe she would. She however, does wish for most men and women to have a fair trial. Whether that be with a group of judges or simply a trial by combat. All should have the opportunity to have it. She, however, does not believe in any kind of belief system. She just simply never had an affinity for thanking anyone but the hunter for the meal on her table. It was how she was raised and will be how she thinks when she dies.
While Gaia has never had a lover in the sense of the word, she is not the type to play it cool. When approached with an emotional attachment to someone it cracks her demeanor and thought structure like nothing else. Her greatest weakness as person is her heart as she cannot conquer it. It may be the only thing she has no chance of besting.”
Outside of combat Gaia wishes to be useful among other things. She has always sought acceptance from others and often times can be found keeping busy when the tribe has made camp, even on the longest journey. She can go from protecting the vanguard during a long walk to hunting all night to feed the young children and elderly in the morning. This is actually one of Gaia’s chief faults. She runs her body dry of energy and sleep deprivation often and tends to fall asleep for obscene amounts of time when she returns from things like a three day hunt. It has been especially noted by the Longear tribe chieftain and his sons. As their champion Gaia feels a sense of duty that she would never allow to come second in anything. She is their sword and more importantly their sword arm. She fights for them.
Gaia has an issue when it comes to not burning bridges, as well. As she is often times unaware of when she completely offends someone. As such, she does not apologize often. Not out of a sense of pride or something along those lines, rather she simply does not understand when an apology would be appreciated.
Gaia’s morals are fast and loose. She understands the way in which the world works and does not have a problem with it. She is aware of slavery, death, children disappearing and understands that this is part of a cycle. She simply does not view herself with autonomy enough to care about these things. Should her chieftain tell her to kill a man for his crimes against the Longear tribe she would. She however, does wish for most men and women to have a fair trial. Whether that be with a group of judges or simply a trial by combat. All should have the opportunity to have it. She, however, does not believe in any kind of belief system. She just simply never had an affinity for thanking anyone but the hunter for the meal on her table. It was how she was raised and will be how she thinks when she dies.
While Gaia has never had a lover in the sense of the word, she is not the type to play it cool. When approached with an emotional attachment to someone it cracks her demeanor and thought structure like nothing else. Her greatest weakness as person is her heart as she cannot conquer it. It may be the only thing she has no chance of besting.”
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
“Gaia was raised by a single mother in the Longear Tribe. Shortly after impregnating her mother, her father was felled by a boar tusk to the side of his throat while hunting elk. She never knew him, but she would learn of him in the coming years. She was told of his valor by her mother, but primarily she was told of his foolhardy nature. She was told to never repeat that type of behavior.
The first time Gaia’s upbringing was brought into question was when she was found by the Chieftain alone in the woods surrounded by a pack of wolves and a bear. She was only five at the time but the animals stood calmly as she massaged their mouths and pet them as a five year old would. They allowed the chieftain to take her from them and a jury was called to determine whether or not her mother could be deemed well enough to raise the girl alone. The deliberation took many days.
On the eve of the first night two of the jurors got into a fight. It was a fight that Gaia, the inquisitive little five year old witnessed. And ever since, she had become obsessed with combat. She began her training in basic self-defense the next year. Her mother had lost custody of her child and instead Gaia was raised by a warrior of the Longear Tribe and his wife, who was an incredibly talented weaver. Together they taught Gaia many things, and much to her adoptive mother’s chagrin fighting was the chief profession she found herself fascinated by.
She was only nine years old when she first bested an opponent. She sparred against the other boys’ who were sons of the warriors in the tribe and she often lost. But she always learned something from a loss. And soon, she begun rarely losing.
By the time Gaia had turned fifteen she was easily the most competent young fighter, committing her every waking moment to it. She would complete any chores set up by her mother and immediately begin fighting anyone she could. It was by the brisk age of sixteen she could regularly defeat the other warriors and she became one herself.
Her mother and father had never looked more sullen and proud during the ceremony.
Only three years later and she got to fight to become the tribe’s champion. It was inevitable at that point. As such, she became the sword arm of the tribe and the Chieftain’s family. She hunted, gathered, and killed for them.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
The first time Gaia’s upbringing was brought into question was when she was found by the Chieftain alone in the woods surrounded by a pack of wolves and a bear. She was only five at the time but the animals stood calmly as she massaged their mouths and pet them as a five year old would. They allowed the chieftain to take her from them and a jury was called to determine whether or not her mother could be deemed well enough to raise the girl alone. The deliberation took many days.
On the eve of the first night two of the jurors got into a fight. It was a fight that Gaia, the inquisitive little five year old witnessed. And ever since, she had become obsessed with combat. She began her training in basic self-defense the next year. Her mother had lost custody of her child and instead Gaia was raised by a warrior of the Longear Tribe and his wife, who was an incredibly talented weaver. Together they taught Gaia many things, and much to her adoptive mother’s chagrin fighting was the chief profession she found herself fascinated by.
She was only nine years old when she first bested an opponent. She sparred against the other boys’ who were sons of the warriors in the tribe and she often lost. But she always learned something from a loss. And soon, she begun rarely losing.
By the time Gaia had turned fifteen she was easily the most competent young fighter, committing her every waking moment to it. She would complete any chores set up by her mother and immediately begin fighting anyone she could. It was by the brisk age of sixteen she could regularly defeat the other warriors and she became one herself.
Her mother and father had never looked more sullen and proud during the ceremony.
Only three years later and she got to fight to become the tribe’s champion. It was inevitable at that point. As such, she became the sword arm of the tribe and the Chieftain’s family. She hunted, gathered, and killed for them.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Akua ⥥ Nature, Life, and Betrayal ⥥ Female ⥥ Bisexual ⍚
“Like a mother bending over her baby,
Kneeled down in the dust
Toiling over a lump of clay
Till she shaped it in her own image;
Then into it she blew the breath of the wild, will and life
And man became a living soul.”
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Akua (Pronounced Ahkwa) is a diminutive woman with fingers made black from the second knuckle down from dirt. She has windblown brown hair and pale grey skin. She also has sharp eyes. She is constantly surrounded by a plethora of animals including elk, bears, foxes, wolves, eagles, blue jays, and others. She has a beautiful and ornate dress that is black and gold in appearance with small amber crystals along the back. She is small in stature standing only at five feet tall. Her voice when heard is fifteen voices at once all in perfect harmony with one another. Her eye colour is dependent on the season on Earth.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- The Goddess of creation, life, and the origin point of living things.
- The creator of the goddess’ of seasons, who are now a single entity known as Erilene
- The mother of all living things. When killing an animal it is a common superstition that one must use as much of it as possible to avoid wasting anything.
- Her nature as the goddess of betrayal is due to humanity. As they began killing one another it was a title she shouldered as it was her burden to bear the sins of humanity as their creator.
- A goddess who is known to be constantly sad at the state of her creation. Who knew life was such a violent thing to create?
- By those who pray to her specifically, she is sometimes offered a prayer when one is about to eat an animal, as a thanks for providing food.
.
[ ⍚ ] 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
Something was missing. The world existed as it should. However, it felt… So empty. I did not want to create more gods or goddesses, they would have nothing to govern over. But I knew I could create. So I did. At first beings that were microscopic in nature, only the smallest speck of life. But then I saw before me infinite possibilities. I created creatures of all shapes and sizes. Some as large as an island and some as small as my pupil. I did this, until I filled the entire world. These creatures roamed the beautiful world, some in the ocean, some in the wind, some in the wilds.
But something was missing.
So I made one more creation. In my own image I sculpted man. Once again, I started small but soon there were thousands of them.
I loved them so much.
I was the goddess of nature, and life.
Until my creation turned against one another.
I made sure that there was no intrinsic value in consuming man for another man. They would go mad if they tasted human flesh for too long and as such I felt safe. I found comfort where perhaps there shouldn’t have been any. Because there were two sisters. Ekahi and Elua. They found themselves possessed by the unholy desire to kill one another. And while Ekahi was sleeping Elua took a rock in her fist and caved her sister’s skull in. One life snuffed out. Elua was the first murderer suddenly I had one less mother.
I was brought before other gods to explain what I had created and what I had done. It was not liked nor accepted. I had made a creation with too much power and autonomy. They killed each other for no reason other than killing. It wasn’t hunting, nor was it nourishment, it was simply violence. I was forced to take the mantle of the goddess of betrayal. A story I carved into stone so that Elua and her descendants would know why I governed over their fallacy.
But I knew that I had to remedy the problem. So my hands dug once more into the soil. I created four daughters of mine, not in blood or birth, nor marriage. Simply put I created four goddesses to govern over man. To govern over nature and the seasons. I had created and created until I had created too much.
They were Suelia, goddess of the wilds. Born of spring’s blooming flowers. Tasked with rousing both flora and fauna from their winter’s sleep.
Nerine, goddess of birth. Born from summer’s warm rays. Tasked with bringing new young to life and nurture their growth.
Erilene, goddess of good harvests. Born from autumn’s colourful leaves. Tasked with nurturing the growth of plants and crops, so these can continue to nurture others.
Rauri, goddess of respite. Born from winter’s dew. Tasked with watching over nature’s sleep during winter.
But, then too, my tainted hands could not create anything perfect. Soon Suelia, Nerine, and Rauri all perished only their sister Erilene survived the dark god’s awakening. Before Akua could truly discover what happened to her daughters the dark gods approached her too.
Left with a hole in her heart when the dark gods came to cast Akua down from the heavens, she all but accepted it. She knew, at the very least, that should she become mortal she could die and rest in peace.”
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Rooted - General Gaia is incredibly aware of the weather around her, she reads the wind and is able to predict the weather pattern for the next twenty-four hours. She is incredibly perceptive of other signs as well such as animal migration, disturbance in Fauna or other natural indicators of destruction or imbalance.
- Champion - Combat Being the youngest champion of the Longear tribe since Artemis herself, Gaia is no push over. Her archery skills are some of the best of the entire clan and she is an incredible combatant that shows no signs of slowing down in growing.
- Animal Handling - General (2 Skills combined into 1) Gaia ever since she was a child is incredibly in tuned with the Fauna of the world. When she was just five she was nearly adopted by a pack of wolves and a brown bear. She can soothe an animal into allowing her to get close and hunts in this fashion typically. Singing and drawing animals closer and killing them swiftly and painlessly. She is incredibly talented in handling animals and reading them and has even begun to train a small wolf pup named Hoa.
- Hunting - Survival
See above - Charismatic - General While Gaia does have difficult reading situations, she is very charismatic. This is primarily because of her fairly stunning appearance and talented nature. She is well known by most and her singing voice is particularly alluring she just seems to be ‘out of this world’ in a way. She also has a large amount of pull within the tribe itself. Greatly respected by its members as she has lived her life for the tribe.
- Amazonian - Combat Gaia is in peak condition for a woman her age and size. She looks downright intimidating and she punches as strong and well as a full grown man, if not stronger. Due to the fact that she has grown to control her muscles with a fine tune that many cannot accomplish. She is often stronger than she is given credit for.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 15/15
Yggdrasil : Weakest Abilities
Everything, in perfect harmony, that is my dream.
Nature's Minne: Gaia's singing voice sooths everyone who hears it. Passively, a simple whistled tune can even help someone drift off to sleep, at most if she were to actively sing during combat she could cause an opponent to overlook something, being lulled into a sense of security
:Life's Kiss Gaia rooting herself into life itself, can kiss someone and cure and light wound that may be present on them. The kiss must be sustained for five seconds to take effect, however.
:Life's Kiss Gaia rooting herself into life itself, can kiss someone and cure and light wound that may be present on them. The kiss must be sustained for five seconds to take effect, however.
Blessing of the Earth: Gaia can give herself or another a much higher roll as far as animal handling and soothing animals by utilising this ability. It is a blessing that must be cast before the aforementioned roll however.
The Stream of Life: Moderate Ability
Even a mountain in the way of a stream will be worn down and filled with holes, all the small stream needs is time.
Breath of the Wild: Gaia is able to withstand any and all exposure. She still needs oxygen, water, and food to survive but no temperature can affect her in this state save for immediately adverse effects like fire on the skin and plunging herself well below sub-zero temperatures, this can last from sunrise to sunrise.
Refulgent Creation: Gaia can summon to her side up to three animals that are native to the area she is in. She does this by imbuing her life force into the area she in and the beings are created. These animals are loyal to Gaia and can follow basic commands.
Cain: Remembering the moment she felt betrayal for the first time, Gaia whispers a phrase into the ear of a target. That person will then distrust whosoever was named. A full name is required and while they will deeply distrust that person, what happens afterwards is left completely up to whoever is affected by this ability. They cannot immediately shake off their distrust, however.
Refulgent Creation: Gaia can summon to her side up to three animals that are native to the area she is in. She does this by imbuing her life force into the area she in and the beings are created. These animals are loyal to Gaia and can follow basic commands.
Cain: Remembering the moment she felt betrayal for the first time, Gaia whispers a phrase into the ear of a target. That person will then distrust whosoever was named. A full name is required and while they will deeply distrust that person, what happens afterwards is left completely up to whoever is affected by this ability. They cannot immediately shake off their distrust, however.
Genesis: Strongest Ability
Life is not beautiful, or pure, because it lasts. It is beautiful because you get to experience it.
Burden of the Daughter: Gaia gains limitless strength. However, this only applies to burdens. She can carry any weight, lift any weight, receive any weight, but she can't simply punch with infinite strength - even though she could lift a tree from the Earth and carry any amount of weight. She can also not swing something that is massively heavy as if it were a simple baseball bat. However, she can move it fairly effortlessly while this ability is active. If something is thrown with this ability it will drop immediately.
Tears of the Mother: Using this ability Gaia's tears can bring forth entire lake's worth of water. As soon as the tear hits the ground it expands rapidly creating an entire lakebed. Anyone caught within this radius is under immense threat of being dragged beneath the surface by the ensuing rapid filling of the lake and thrown about by the current.
Soul of the Creator: Placing a single fingertip into the earth Gaia creates gigantic fauna and flora sprouting forth creating a forest unlike any other. Pure unbridled creation, even mythical creatures can be born from this forest.
However, upon its creation the earth is riddled with these gigiantic roots and anyone in the surrounding area will be pulled into the earth by these gigantic roots, killing them. This ability will leave a forest that could survive thousands of years. Covering a massive area. The lethal range of this ability is, however, only in a two hundred foot radius around Gaia, including, of course Gaia herself. It should be mentioned that while the lethal range of this ability is two hundred metres, the forest itself will grow to nearly 100 acres over time. Constantly expanding.
Tears of the Mother: Using this ability Gaia's tears can bring forth entire lake's worth of water. As soon as the tear hits the ground it expands rapidly creating an entire lakebed. Anyone caught within this radius is under immense threat of being dragged beneath the surface by the ensuing rapid filling of the lake and thrown about by the current.
Soul of the Creator: Placing a single fingertip into the earth Gaia creates gigantic fauna and flora sprouting forth creating a forest unlike any other. Pure unbridled creation, even mythical creatures can be born from this forest.
However, upon its creation the earth is riddled with these gigiantic roots and anyone in the surrounding area will be pulled into the earth by these gigantic roots, killing them. This ability will leave a forest that could survive thousands of years. Covering a massive area. The lethal range of this ability is, however, only in a two hundred foot radius around Gaia, including, of course Gaia herself. It should be mentioned that while the lethal range of this ability is two hundred metres, the forest itself will grow to nearly 100 acres over time. Constantly expanding.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
A skinning knife
Bow and Arrows
A Tomahawk
Hoa a one year old Wolf
Small amount of currency
A sigil denoting Giaa as the champion of the Longear Tribe
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: other information.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Awaiting RRA
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⍚ Persephone ⥥ 18 ⥥ Female ⥥ Homosexual ⍚
"Sins cannot be undone, only forgiven."
who do you think you are, ha ha ha bless your soul you really think you're in control?
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
"Persephone, or Phe (pronounced Fee) as she likes to be called stands around five feet and nine inches which is accented by her typically excellent posture. She has snow white hair and sharply green eyes that tend to really pop out due to her pale complexion, choice outfits, and stark hair. She has an athletic physique often complimented by her outfits which often leave parts of her midriff exposed along with her shoulders, waist and arms. She has very visible muscle definition on her arms, calves and abdomen. Phe has a very narrow facial structure that has left her with a rough case of R.B.I., but her typically warm body language. Many people who meet her immediately notice the fact that he white hair is almost mane-like reaching all the way to her lower back and over falling over onto her shoulders.
While Phe does have an athletic build, she has very small hands and fingers. Delicate even. She is known to be quite adept with them, easily able to roll a coin over her fingers, spin an arrow around her wrist and in her hands and other various forms of fidgeting that are common to her. Most of Phe’s outfits are well put together. She is often seen wearing form fitting pants or shorts with a loose shirt in order to keep comfortable. She typically finds herself doing something of an updo with her hair because when you have as much as Phe does, it can be nice to not have to worry about it hitting you in the face at the slightest breeze.
Persephone’s curse is in the form of a tattoo, or rather birthmark, it is something that changes with the era she finds herself in. In every era it is below her skin and permanently unreachable. Currently it looks like tribal pain on her ankle in the shape of a Lion. Once literacy is more common and so forth it begins with the word Superbia, which is found on her ankle. This is permanently there, however it starts very small. As the curse consumes her life force, it grows to fit her entire calf, with more tattoos appearing along with it. Flowers, waves, tears, stars. Many things begin to consume her, but the most notable are the following seven words, or symbols once more depending on the era: “Luxuria, Gula, Avartia, Acedia, Ira, Invidia, and finally Superbia are the symbols. While the Snake, Pig, Frog, Goat, Bear, Dog and Lion are the symbols during Tribal eras and time periods. Superbia (Lion) and Ira (Bear) taking her legs, Invidia (Dog) and Acedia (Goat) her arms, Gula (Pig) her stomach and Luxuria (Snake) her throat. When she is fully consumed, she will be fully consumed with the sins she bears for everyone. With minor usage, only the seven words appear or animals, the rest of her life force being drained is what brings all of the surrounding art, as it were."
While Phe does have an athletic build, she has very small hands and fingers. Delicate even. She is known to be quite adept with them, easily able to roll a coin over her fingers, spin an arrow around her wrist and in her hands and other various forms of fidgeting that are common to her. Most of Phe’s outfits are well put together. She is often seen wearing form fitting pants or shorts with a loose shirt in order to keep comfortable. She typically finds herself doing something of an updo with her hair because when you have as much as Phe does, it can be nice to not have to worry about it hitting you in the face at the slightest breeze.
Persephone’s curse is in the form of a tattoo, or rather birthmark, it is something that changes with the era she finds herself in. In every era it is below her skin and permanently unreachable. Currently it looks like tribal pain on her ankle in the shape of a Lion. Once literacy is more common and so forth it begins with the word Superbia, which is found on her ankle. This is permanently there, however it starts very small. As the curse consumes her life force, it grows to fit her entire calf, with more tattoos appearing along with it. Flowers, waves, tears, stars. Many things begin to consume her, but the most notable are the following seven words, or symbols once more depending on the era: “Luxuria, Gula, Avartia, Acedia, Ira, Invidia, and finally Superbia are the symbols. While the Snake, Pig, Frog, Goat, Bear, Dog and Lion are the symbols during Tribal eras and time periods. Superbia (Lion) and Ira (Bear) taking her legs, Invidia (Dog) and Acedia (Goat) her arms, Gula (Pig) her stomach and Luxuria (Snake) her throat. When she is fully consumed, she will be fully consumed with the sins she bears for everyone. With minor usage, only the seven words appear or animals, the rest of her life force being drained is what brings all of the surrounding art, as it were."
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
"Phe is a tough nut to crack. She is both calculating and accepting, guarded and trusting. She is often two sides of the same coin at once. She is eager to help people, but always watching for those who may hurt her or those she loves. However, she is not taske dwiththe forgiveness of others to be ironic. She is an incredibly forgiving person, but not naively. She will assess the person, the situation, what they are apologizing for. Gauge the situation. If she believes that someone is speaking the truth, then she shall forgive them. Be it the first or fifteenth time she has done so. She is an understanding person at heart and truly does love to help people.
That being said, Phe is a bit… Blunt. She can be somewhat piercing with her question and has a tough time understanding people hiding things. This has caused a schism in her personal relationship over time. As Phe is not really concerned with being embarrassed or shy, she is a very forward thinking person who has little time for people telling her what to do. Which is why she isn’t the best in groups that she doesn’t lead. When she is a leader of a group she is an effective one. She can delegate well, and to an extent she can follow orders well. What makes her a bad follower is her inability to not chime in. She has a hard time not giving someone her two cents, even if said two cents may be wrong, uncalled for or not even asked for.
Being a deity of sin many people think presume her to be something of a demon. Some follow creature attempting to sway the hearts and minds of good people. However her title as goddess of sin and forgiveness go hand in hand. She exemplifies every sin that has been named, however she does so in a very human way and believes that the root of those sins is human emotion. Something she values very highly. She may drink, smoke, lay with others at different points, but it is all a part of her attempting to figure out who and what she is. Where she is going. Where she has been. It is something that both pleases her to no end and disgusts her infinitely. She is something of a walking paradox, and it’s something she forgives herself for."
That being said, Phe is a bit… Blunt. She can be somewhat piercing with her question and has a tough time understanding people hiding things. This has caused a schism in her personal relationship over time. As Phe is not really concerned with being embarrassed or shy, she is a very forward thinking person who has little time for people telling her what to do. Which is why she isn’t the best in groups that she doesn’t lead. When she is a leader of a group she is an effective one. She can delegate well, and to an extent she can follow orders well. What makes her a bad follower is her inability to not chime in. She has a hard time not giving someone her two cents, even if said two cents may be wrong, uncalled for or not even asked for.
Being a deity of sin many people think presume her to be something of a demon. Some follow creature attempting to sway the hearts and minds of good people. However her title as goddess of sin and forgiveness go hand in hand. She exemplifies every sin that has been named, however she does so in a very human way and believes that the root of those sins is human emotion. Something she values very highly. She may drink, smoke, lay with others at different points, but it is all a part of her attempting to figure out who and what she is. Where she is going. Where she has been. It is something that both pleases her to no end and disgusts her infinitely. She is something of a walking paradox, and it’s something she forgives herself for."
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Persephone was presumably born into a family. She never met her birth parents however, when she was old enough to begin forming memories she lived on a small farm, it was secluded in nature. She was raised with a sister, two brothers and her adoptive mother and father. They were as common folk as they came. They would tell her of when they found her floating nestled under a tree with a small card that was in her bassinet. It simply read; ‘forgive us’. So her new family did. They forgave her and raised her as one of their own. It was a very kind gesture indeed. They even gave her the name Persephone and the nickname Phe. While she was nice to them and very happy they had decided that day to adopt little baby Persephone, she was different. She was impersonal, non-emotional and very calm. A strange child to be sure.
But she was also caring. One day when her brother dislocated his shoulder after attempting to swing across a ravine she found him and hugged him tightly. Only ten at the time she told him quietly to breathe, and so he did. A quick jerk of her arm, a loud pop and his shoulder had returned to its natural resting spot. That was when she stared to get questioning looks from her family.
They would sometimes ask her to pick berries for dinner by herself, it started when she was only twelve years old. She would venture out into the forest and wonder if they would be back when she got home. She also assumed they thought a similar thought, because when she would return and they would still be there an air of tension would accompany her home. A tension that did not exist in the forest. It made her want to return to the forest, maybe even live there.
O, the irony.
On the return from hunting for a doe and gathering the usual herbs and berries, a 12 year old Persephone came home to find the barn on fire. She wanted to scream, run, hide. But she did none of those things. She simply continued caring the doe on her back and walked into her home. Her family, dead. The man responsible there.
His head was in his hands and he was muttering something incessantly. He looked up at her, she assumed he was to kill her.
“I’m so sorry.”
A crossroads. A hand on his chest, it pounded.
“I forgive you.”
She left him the doe.
Ever since she lived on her own in the forests keeping a low profile, helping those when she could. Persephone was eighteen now, and she had learned much about the world from the forests, more so she thinks than if she was in the dead center of it. Her ear was always kept on the ground, and it seemed a gathering of sorts was to transpire. She had never been to one yet, so she wished to follow through and see what it was like. Besides, she had heard of something called a 'coming of age ceremony'. She had never gotten one, which intrigued her. So she would investigate for herself.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
But she was also caring. One day when her brother dislocated his shoulder after attempting to swing across a ravine she found him and hugged him tightly. Only ten at the time she told him quietly to breathe, and so he did. A quick jerk of her arm, a loud pop and his shoulder had returned to its natural resting spot. That was when she stared to get questioning looks from her family.
They would sometimes ask her to pick berries for dinner by herself, it started when she was only twelve years old. She would venture out into the forest and wonder if they would be back when she got home. She also assumed they thought a similar thought, because when she would return and they would still be there an air of tension would accompany her home. A tension that did not exist in the forest. It made her want to return to the forest, maybe even live there.
O, the irony.
On the return from hunting for a doe and gathering the usual herbs and berries, a 12 year old Persephone came home to find the barn on fire. She wanted to scream, run, hide. But she did none of those things. She simply continued caring the doe on her back and walked into her home. Her family, dead. The man responsible there.
His head was in his hands and he was muttering something incessantly. He looked up at her, she assumed he was to kill her.
“I’m so sorry.”
A crossroads. A hand on his chest, it pounded.
“I forgive you.”
She left him the doe.
Ever since she lived on her own in the forests keeping a low profile, helping those when she could. Persephone was eighteen now, and she had learned much about the world from the forests, more so she thinks than if she was in the dead center of it. Her ear was always kept on the ground, and it seemed a gathering of sorts was to transpire. She had never been to one yet, so she wished to follow through and see what it was like. Besides, she had heard of something called a 'coming of age ceremony'. She had never gotten one, which intrigued her. So she would investigate for herself.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Aurea ⥥ Sin, Forgiveness, Resolutions ⥥ Female ⥥ Homosexual ⍚
“We may be able to decide what shall be done and what has to be done.
But at the end of the day.
One must be a fool to assume they have even the slightest amount of control.
For this reason alone, you must forgive yourself.
Fight not to kill.
But to live.”
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Aurea stands at an Amazonian seven feet and eight inches, her athletic build much clearer than when she is a human woman. She is the epitome of physical strength, and yet in this form she looks to be much more forgiving and kind. She has a warmth about her that is not present when she is a human. Speaking slowly, softly and concisely she is often heralded as a goddess of beauty. She is adorned with a silk white robe that is nearly impossible to distinguish with her silk white hair that flows just like her robe. But she also has beautiful golden armor that adorns her, it shines as if it is constantly in the light of the evening sun. She has a voice that is somehow both soothing and booming. That demands attention and gives it with every word. Other than that she is vaguely human looking, but still somewhat like an angelic figure.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
Being the goddess of Sin and Forgiveness, many people think of Aurea in different ways. Some, see her as a two-faced demon who simply preys on the weak of heart denying them the salvation they seek so desperately. But some view her as an all-mother of humanity of sorts. A goddess whose love for humanity will always allow her to forgive them and aid them in their finest and darkest moments. Both are somewhat true, but neither are fully accurate either. She serves as a final word of sorts. The final decision maker as to whether or not you should truly be saved or not. She is both a doomsayer of humanity, and its salvation.
[ ⍚ ] 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
There is one story of Aurea that sticks out among others that float on the lips of her followers. It is a story of redemption and forgiveness. A story about all of humanities struggle to do what is right, and recognize what is wrong. A story about a simple baker. The baker was not always a baker, however. He was once a soldier who fought in a war he did not believe in. He killed many because he felt it was the easiest way to make a living, he was very good at what he did. This soldier met a woman whom he grew to love dearly, though she did not seem all that interested in him. Fore she had many suitors who would one day propose, she would not choose the first soldier to become stricken with her.
One day this woman, the noble’s daughter, was walking into town. Her intention that day was to buy a loaf of bread. What she had not planned on was meeting the soldier once more, who was now a baker. The baker introduced himself, recalling a time when he was young and naïve. She informed him that she was now married, her marital status sealed, but he simply laughed and handed her the bread she had ordered. He was happy for her. Which left her wholly discontent. She began to visit the baker more often.
First at his bakery, finally in his chambers.
They soon bore a child together, which infuriated her husband so much so that he was launched into a fit of rage, slaughtering her. His intention was not to stop at the child, however for some reason, he did. He put the child in a cradle and left it at the edge of the woods, with a small note. ‘Forgive me.’ It read.
Once the baker found out what had happened he grew consumed by wrath, calling upon the goddess Aurea for judgement and justice. She answered him.
“O goddess, please slay this foul man whom hast thought to control a woman so that he hath claimed her life and the life of my child.”
The goddess regarded the baker, fully and completely, and then responded.
“You are no baker, young soldier. It was not so long ago that you slew the youth of another nation because it was easy. I promise you this, what he did was not easy, nor did he take the life of your child. Instead I shall forgive you both. Him, for acting when he was lovelorn, you for acting without humanity at all. For both of your beloved’s.”
Aurea was tricked by the dark gods in a somewhat humiliating fashion. The goddesss of Sin, Forgiveness and Memory could not answer the simplest question. What if you cannot forgive your starkissed? What if the crime they commit is more terrible than any you have managed to judge thus far? This was the gateway to her being confined within the mortal body that now traps her soul. Have they really robbed her and many others of their forgiveness?
One day this woman, the noble’s daughter, was walking into town. Her intention that day was to buy a loaf of bread. What she had not planned on was meeting the soldier once more, who was now a baker. The baker introduced himself, recalling a time when he was young and naïve. She informed him that she was now married, her marital status sealed, but he simply laughed and handed her the bread she had ordered. He was happy for her. Which left her wholly discontent. She began to visit the baker more often.
First at his bakery, finally in his chambers.
They soon bore a child together, which infuriated her husband so much so that he was launched into a fit of rage, slaughtering her. His intention was not to stop at the child, however for some reason, he did. He put the child in a cradle and left it at the edge of the woods, with a small note. ‘Forgive me.’ It read.
Once the baker found out what had happened he grew consumed by wrath, calling upon the goddess Aurea for judgement and justice. She answered him.
“O goddess, please slay this foul man whom hast thought to control a woman so that he hath claimed her life and the life of my child.”
The goddess regarded the baker, fully and completely, and then responded.
“You are no baker, young soldier. It was not so long ago that you slew the youth of another nation because it was easy. I promise you this, what he did was not easy, nor did he take the life of your child. Instead I shall forgive you both. Him, for acting when he was lovelorn, you for acting without humanity at all. For both of your beloved’s.”
Aurea was tricked by the dark gods in a somewhat humiliating fashion. The goddesss of Sin, Forgiveness and Memory could not answer the simplest question. What if you cannot forgive your starkissed? What if the crime they commit is more terrible than any you have managed to judge thus far? This was the gateway to her being confined within the mortal body that now traps her soul. Have they really robbed her and many others of their forgiveness?
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Embrace Persephone is incredibly empathetic, due in part to being a goddess of forgiveness. She has an incredible ability to sense the emotions of others and read them as if they were words written on the foreheads of people. She can easily predict the flow of conversations and social cues, even giving her a small leg up in being surprised by someone who is looking to surprise or attack her.
- Sketch Phe is able to commit thoughts and images to memory after only the briefest encounter with them. Never forgetting a name or a face without purpose. But this can be translated even to painting a massive canyon down to the slightest detail after only seeing it for a brief minute.
- Gula A nearly useless ability, Persephone is able to indulge a nearly limitless amount of food and drink without having an effect on her physique. Making it all too easy to keep in shape as long as she exercises regularly. In this way it also very difficult to poison or drug her.
- Speak Persephone having spent as much time as she did in the forest growing up has grown very accustomed to the ways of animals and has gotten into a harmonious relationship with them. She is safely able to approach and befriend many creatures that would typically be hostile towards humans. Even having them help her hunt.
- Scout After so many years of living in the forest Phe is an incredible hunter/gatherer having kept herself fed for the past six years without almost any help.
- Kill Persephone has become one with her bow. She is easily capable of shooting someone with an arrow while they're running, as this is the practice she has received from surviving all these yeras and having to hunt to eat.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 15/15
Luxuria et Avarita: Weakest Ability
Perhaps the most common sins. We all have shown them in some sense or another, whether the cause be virtuous or not. Do not let them consume you.
Luxury: Persephone can impose a hyper focus on someone, making them forget other matters of importance.
Covet: Persephone can take a memory that is still in short-term memory from someone by placing her hand on their temple. However, if the target realizes their memory is gone they will begin to set themselves straight.
Disassemble: By placing a hand on the shoulder of a target, Persephone can force someone to give up something they hold dear to their heart. They can regain focus on said thing, but it would take time and incredible willpower.
Covet: Persephone can take a memory that is still in short-term memory from someone by placing her hand on their temple. However, if the target realizes their memory is gone they will begin to set themselves straight.
Disassemble: By placing a hand on the shoulder of a target, Persephone can force someone to give up something they hold dear to their heart. They can regain focus on said thing, but it would take time and incredible willpower.
Invidia et Acedia: Moderate Ability
The lack of drive to accomplish the goals you loathe others accomplishing. It is difficult to be virtuous when inactive. Yet inaction is an important action that must be taken.
Sleep: As long as Persephone can catch someone's eyes she can force them into a nightmare of sorts. They will face a memory they do not want to face, a past action perhaps. Afterwards they will be given a glimpse of their happiest memory, but will not be allowed to complete. This can trap someone for up to an hour.
Laud: Persephone can force someone to become obsessed with something. In the middle of a fight becoming obssessed with Phe's left arm could prove rather deadly, considering her fightin' arm is her right.
Industria et Humanitas: Persephone can inspire a small nation to become better people. Essentially forgiving them for their sins and imbuing them with kindness and diligence. While it may not be as useful in a fight, she can set a village straight with this ability. Making it incredibly powerful.
Laud: Persephone can force someone to become obsessed with something. In the middle of a fight becoming obssessed with Phe's left arm could prove rather deadly, considering her fightin' arm is her right.
Industria et Humanitas: Persephone can inspire a small nation to become better people. Essentially forgiving them for their sins and imbuing them with kindness and diligence. While it may not be as useful in a fight, she can set a village straight with this ability. Making it incredibly powerful.
Ira et Superbia: Strongest Ability
Once you have forgiven yourself, it will be my turn. I will forgive your final and ultimate sin, and you will soar higher than ever before, or you will plummet.
Recompense: Placing a hand on a target's heart, Persephone releases the pain of the many sins she bears as goddess of sin. She unleashes them on the target causing them to feel every single ounce of pain they have caused throughout their existence.
Indulge: Embracing the sins of Pride and Wrath, Persephone enters a state in which she loses her empathy and forgiving nature, instead becoming cold, calculating and deadly. The longer she is in this state the more damage it does to both her psyche and her physical body. She is able to analyze a combatant almost instantly, however, and her physical abilities increase to a huge extent removing the limiters a physical body would place on force used by her. It is difficult, but not impossible for Persephone to survive after usage of this ability. Whoever she is fighting will most likely not.
Pandora's Box: While this will kill Persephone, she can use this ability in one of two ways. She can take the sins of a nation upon herself and die with them. Killing her and the sins and negative thoughts and memories of an entire country. Truly creating a race of people that couldn't do anything but succeed. However, there is another way in which she can use this ability, quite the opposite. Unleashing everything she has stored over the years, every sin she has forgiven she could very well start a world war. However, perhaps more interestingly she could choose to simply target one individual to feel the sins of all of history itself. Mentally killing them.
Indulge: Embracing the sins of Pride and Wrath, Persephone enters a state in which she loses her empathy and forgiving nature, instead becoming cold, calculating and deadly. The longer she is in this state the more damage it does to both her psyche and her physical body. She is able to analyze a combatant almost instantly, however, and her physical abilities increase to a huge extent removing the limiters a physical body would place on force used by her. It is difficult, but not impossible for Persephone to survive after usage of this ability. Whoever she is fighting will most likely not.
Pandora's Box: While this will kill Persephone, she can use this ability in one of two ways. She can take the sins of a nation upon herself and die with them. Killing her and the sins and negative thoughts and memories of an entire country. Truly creating a race of people that couldn't do anything but succeed. However, there is another way in which she can use this ability, quite the opposite. Unleashing everything she has stored over the years, every sin she has forgiven she could very well start a world war. However, perhaps more interestingly she could choose to simply target one individual to feel the sins of all of history itself. Mentally killing them.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
A hunting bow and approximately fifteen arrows.
A small carving knife
Basic leather clothing
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: Color=#32645b.
Phe is a huge fan of deer meat and is a sucker for home grown vegetables.
Her favourite weather pattern is misty rain.
She enjoys forests more than anything else.
When she is nervous she attempts to fix her hair.
When she doubts herself she purses her lips.
She has a habit of humming when she is skinning an animal.
Phe restrings her bow every morning.
Persephone will never admit it but she is a big cuddler.
She finds that whenever someone yawns around her she yawns as well.
Her adoptive clan was the Roamwyn's. However, now she is currently traveling.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Sure thing!
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
1x Like
luckofthedraw You're Storying Wrong
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
⍚ Mado ⥥ 19 ⥥ Male⥥ Hetrosexual ⍚
"I Seem to Have Lost All Purpose"
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
"Mado stands at 5' 10". The young man is light, but not in the least bit weak. His hair is a jet black and cut short. Amongst others he could be easily unnoticed, if it weren't for his eyes. Deep, cold and empty, they are of a blue so dark, they seem to be black. His gaze alone makes a few hardened warriors turn away. Still, standing shorter among the warriors of his land, he is easily lost and forgotten.
The only other thing of note is his scars, plastered down his back and centered on the lower part of it. They are not just gashes and slices, but holes, knots, and grooves...
His curse mark rests near the bottom of his back and indeed he himself has only seen it in the reflection of water. It shines whitish and appears different each time, probably due to the reflection of the water. Upon contact the whitish symbol simply vanishes as if it was never there to begin with.
That's when it starts spreading. Instead of the whitish color radiating out, however, 'colorlessness' radiates up his back and to his neck. The 'colorlessness' seems to suck the very color out of his skin, and his muscles. It makes his skin turn transparent until one can see his bones straight through his body. This goes up to his neck and, in extreme situations, can reach up to his face. Revealing the skull beneath.
Because of this he wears a lot of clothing to hide his back and neck. He wears the traditional robe of the Altose Clan, and wears a heavy (black wolf) fur scarf over that, which drapes down his back. He dresses to disguise not only his mark, but his scars surrounding it.
The only other thing of note is his scars, plastered down his back and centered on the lower part of it. They are not just gashes and slices, but holes, knots, and grooves...
His curse mark rests near the bottom of his back and indeed he himself has only seen it in the reflection of water. It shines whitish and appears different each time, probably due to the reflection of the water. Upon contact the whitish symbol simply vanishes as if it was never there to begin with.
That's when it starts spreading. Instead of the whitish color radiating out, however, 'colorlessness' radiates up his back and to his neck. The 'colorlessness' seems to suck the very color out of his skin, and his muscles. It makes his skin turn transparent until one can see his bones straight through his body. This goes up to his neck and, in extreme situations, can reach up to his face. Revealing the skull beneath.
Because of this he wears a lot of clothing to hide his back and neck. He wears the traditional robe of the Altose Clan, and wears a heavy (black wolf) fur scarf over that, which drapes down his back. He dresses to disguise not only his mark, but his scars surrounding it.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
"Does Mado even have a personality? Used to be a common question. And for the most part the answer was no. Until one day Mado seemed to grow odd. He seemed to become slightly crazy and unhinged. He would laugh in the oddest of times and would cry when no tears were to be shed.
It seemed to everyone that Mado could simply not understand even the simplest social queues of the people around him. Because of this he became extremely fearful and concerned with himself.
Mado tries to keep to himself, knowing this. However, when he gets excited it is not uncommon for him to behave oddly as if he finds it impossible to read the situation at hand. If this is drawn to his attention he becomes worried and frustrated with himself."
It seemed to everyone that Mado could simply not understand even the simplest social queues of the people around him. Because of this he became extremely fearful and concerned with himself.
Mado tries to keep to himself, knowing this. However, when he gets excited it is not uncommon for him to behave oddly as if he finds it impossible to read the situation at hand. If this is drawn to his attention he becomes worried and frustrated with himself."
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
"The Altose Clan is where he was born. And it could've been great. Lovely. Maybe even wonderful. Except he was born to his family. A family which has, since his 12th birthday been disavowed by the entirety of the Clan. His father had an intense fascination with his cursed mark. Coupled with his intense interest in magic, Mado found himself in hours of torturous pain as his father found ways of dissecting Mado for this magic.
Indeed, he remembers the terrified screams of his mother as his mother laid him onto something soft and the blood would run over and soak into it. Only the pain drowned it all out. Yet, the young boy did not scream nor twitch. In some senses he welcomed the pain, until the pain itself was nothing.
His family must've been poor, for the food handed to him under his door, while he whimpered in his pitch black room, was not enough to feed a baby. And he ate the same meal everyday until he could no longer taste the food. Indeed in the unlit room everything around him seemed bland and flavorless.
Ever since his father was sentenced by the Clan for his crimes, the boy has been recuperating. Six years later the pain and scars are still there. And that is when the strange feelings set in. As if he was missing something. As if his very soul held nothing at all. He could not cry. He could not feel anger. He could not laugh. Many of the people of Altose attempted to comfort him, but even to them he felt nothing. His attempts at conversation and feeling came off as misplaced since all his emotions seemed to die. In fear he would throw them out there trying to reproduce something of these emotions.
His panic would set back in when he overhears a discussion by several high ranking Altosians. They were talking about his father and how he may have made the right decision in exploring the possible depths of magic. The few people around Mado (for he had no friends to speak of) agreed at once that he needed to get away from Altose for fear that he might lose his mind amongst his memories among the Altosians."
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
Indeed, he remembers the terrified screams of his mother as his mother laid him onto something soft and the blood would run over and soak into it. Only the pain drowned it all out. Yet, the young boy did not scream nor twitch. In some senses he welcomed the pain, until the pain itself was nothing.
His family must've been poor, for the food handed to him under his door, while he whimpered in his pitch black room, was not enough to feed a baby. And he ate the same meal everyday until he could no longer taste the food. Indeed in the unlit room everything around him seemed bland and flavorless.
Ever since his father was sentenced by the Clan for his crimes, the boy has been recuperating. Six years later the pain and scars are still there. And that is when the strange feelings set in. As if he was missing something. As if his very soul held nothing at all. He could not cry. He could not feel anger. He could not laugh. Many of the people of Altose attempted to comfort him, but even to them he felt nothing. His attempts at conversation and feeling came off as misplaced since all his emotions seemed to die. In fear he would throw them out there trying to reproduce something of these emotions.
His panic would set back in when he overhears a discussion by several high ranking Altosians. They were talking about his father and how he may have made the right decision in exploring the possible depths of magic. The few people around Mado (for he had no friends to speak of) agreed at once that he needed to get away from Altose for fear that he might lose his mind amongst his memories among the Altosians."
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Vodahil ⥥ GOD OF NOTHING ⥥ Male ⥥ N/A ⍚
<"Where did the gods live before there was anything? The answer is in the bosom of Vodahil. Vodahil wrapped everything and everyone in its arms. In a strange, unearthly sense it was the god's loving father. Nothing, nothing was the only thing that was there with the gods. And it too was one of them. And it loved each of the gods, doting upon them one at a time. It knew each of them by name and loved each one dearly. That is, until something was created.
Once the gods began creating, Vodahil found itself left behind, and when the gods entered their own creation, they left Vodahil behind. And alone. Nothingness then fell from its place as a doting mother and became like a child, small and out of the way. Not even bitter and hatred had it for the gods. For it was nothing. But it was hungry and it could consume. And so nothingness began consuming existence wherever it found itself.
Sometimes, it is said, the Void cries out with the voice of a child. Singing a solemn song:
"Out of Nothing
Nothing Comes
And to Nothing
it Returns">
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
"
- Altered Form: Vodahil sometimes appears as a massive black hole that sucks inward, consuming all in its path. Other times it is seen as a green mist that can appear in the form of a strong warrior.
- True Form: The absence of everything.
No light, no air, no sound, no smell, no taste.
- Altered Form: Vodahil sometimes appears as a massive black hole that sucks inward, consuming all in its path. Other times it is seen as a green mist that can appear in the form of a strong warrior.
- True Form: The absence of everything.
No light, no air, no sound, no smell, no taste.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
Nothingness
Loss
Absence
Voids
Endlessness
[ ⍚ ] 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
"Vodahil was there in the beginning, nurturing the gods. And the gods nurtured him, for they were eternal, allowing him to exist without needing to feed. Giving them a place to stay within himself and they likewise. When the gods abandoned him for the pleasures of reality. He found himself confused and alone, he would begin eating away at existence. Disliking it for taking away the only family he had ever known.
That is when the gods fought back. They created another world where Vodahil could exist A world that he could eat and consume all by himself. And this is what he did for a millennium. The gods would continue to chain him up, fearing the havoc he could wreak upon the mortal realms. And he would continue to consume and to eat.
There are more than several account of the gods stopping him from breaking through into the mortal realm and consuming everything. These battles always ended in sorrow as the gods remembered who Vodahil once was and Vodahil once again feels the fulfilling presence of the gods (a warm familial feeling), only for it to end with cold, hard existence.
It all changed for Vodahil when one god(dess) came to visit him (but in his childish and weekend state, he forgot whomever this was). S/he would sit by him and talk to him, talk to the void, and comfort him. S/he would never feed him, though he had plenty of dry existence as it was.
At the very least that one feeling, of family, that nothing itself couldn't shake, came back. It began to feed less and slow down. Until the god/dess who kept him company vanished and did not return to visit.
Vodahil, fearful of losing this unknown immortal soul, separated himself from the Void he once was. A feat that the gods would have deemed improbable, nay impossible. Vodahil, no longer connected to the void he once was descended into reality. In hopes of finding comfort. In hopes of finding a family. In hopes of finding love."
That is when the gods fought back. They created another world where Vodahil could exist A world that he could eat and consume all by himself. And this is what he did for a millennium. The gods would continue to chain him up, fearing the havoc he could wreak upon the mortal realms. And he would continue to consume and to eat.
There are more than several account of the gods stopping him from breaking through into the mortal realm and consuming everything. These battles always ended in sorrow as the gods remembered who Vodahil once was and Vodahil once again feels the fulfilling presence of the gods (a warm familial feeling), only for it to end with cold, hard existence.
It all changed for Vodahil when one god(dess) came to visit him (but in his childish and weekend state, he forgot whomever this was). S/he would sit by him and talk to him, talk to the void, and comfort him. S/he would never feed him, though he had plenty of dry existence as it was.
At the very least that one feeling, of family, that nothing itself couldn't shake, came back. It began to feed less and slow down. Until the god/dess who kept him company vanished and did not return to visit.
Vodahil, fearful of losing this unknown immortal soul, separated himself from the Void he once was. A feat that the gods would have deemed improbable, nay impossible. Vodahil, no longer connected to the void he once was descended into reality. In hopes of finding comfort. In hopes of finding a family. In hopes of finding love."
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
- Empty Mado can more easily ignore distractions
- Fearless He is not easily terrified
- Hopeless Mado cannot be demoralized, he has felt the worst at the weakest point in his life.
- Forgotten He can disappear easily or blend into a crowd
- Tortured Because of his past and his nature, he cannot easily feel pain
- Company Due to his desire for company he fights better alongside others
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
Out of Nothing
Reflection on The Definition of Nothing
The Empty Set: Mado can choose one immortal to bond with (see future skills). The Immortal is able to refuse the bond. If this happens, refund the cost of the ability. Empty Set cannot be attempted again on the same character until two hours have passed.
Silence: Mado can drown out the noise around him for ten minutes. The very being of noise ceases.
Lost: Allows him to move slightly faster and hit slightly harder for a short period of time.
Nothing Comes
The Encroaching Nature of Nothingness
Unknowable: Mado reveals the nature of nothing to a person and they becomes subdued, unsure of themselves and thoughtful, though any physical pain or strong emotions might arouse them. After 20 minutes they snap out of the trance.
Endless Revenge: If this is activated and Mado's bonded partner takes damage from an enemy (cannot be a friendly or self inflicted). Mado is able to teleport to his partner.
No Boundaries: Mado can temporarily move through objects
Endless Revenge: If this is activated and Mado's bonded partner takes damage from an enemy (cannot be a friendly or self inflicted). Mado is able to teleport to his partner.
No Boundaries: Mado can temporarily move through objects
And To Nothing It Returns
Nothingness is the end of all things
Nearing the Breaking Point: His cursed mark, instead of cutting through the coloring of his skin and muscles, cuts through the very fabric of reality around him. Turning parts of Mado's body into swirling black holes. He can rend the very fabric of space with these black-holes, moving incredibly fast.
The Number Zero: Mado can become partially one with a bonded immortal. They are in a mental link together and can gain smaller bonuses from each other's usual skills, as well as accessing each other's memories, hopes, fears and dreams if they both volunteer that access. Also, when this happens they are able to see through each other's eyes for a short period of time. If one of the pair die while this ability is active, they will have a vague sense of familiarity with each other in the next life, as if they are two parts of a whole.
Absolute Nothingness: Death: Mado reverts to his pure god fo rm for a short while. This tears his own body asunder instantly and sends out a radial dome of absolute nothingness sucking everything within it (outside of fellow immortals) and, all who see it (including immortals) are blinded and dazed by the very image (which there is none) of nothingness. If he had bonded to a partner before this, that partner forgets everything about Mado, even of his existence.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
Mado has very little on him, and certainly nothing that reminds him of his tribe.
His own travelling clothes, which are nice and well made.
Nothing of personal value. Nothing...
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: YES
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
Inertia Pretty Lackadaisical
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
⍚ Taltrus ⥥ 22 ⥥ Male ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
"Mindless wandering for a purpose once lost."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
Taltrus dresses simply, he wears a dark cloak that envelops his whole body; it is connected by three leather straps. He carries lightly, only bringing the bare minimum necessary for travelling. Underneath the robes is leather clothing, with hints of metal used mainly for protection. The leather is dyed a darker purple, almost meshing with the darker cloak.
He is a 5'9" and toned, easily visible when out of his cloak. He has a paler complexion that most, complemented by his paler blonde hair, and contrasted by his dark cerulean eyes. His posture tends to straightened, prim and proper- almost statuelike when standing still. His gait is similar, it has an air of rugged dignity befitting that of a wandarer. Another is his strikingly empty gaze, his eyes tend to be dull and unfocused as if he's looking at something that had already left.
The cursed mark rests on his right calf, a puncture wound with an outer fiery layer, almost like a dark sunken sun. When his power is used continuously the outer layer begings to slowly envelop his right leg, once it has completely enscapsulated his leg it begins to to pulsate making it difficult to use said foot. With each pulse it glows a dim green, and darkening with each thump.
He is a 5'9" and toned, easily visible when out of his cloak. He has a paler complexion that most, complemented by his paler blonde hair, and contrasted by his dark cerulean eyes. His posture tends to straightened, prim and proper- almost statuelike when standing still. His gait is similar, it has an air of rugged dignity befitting that of a wandarer. Another is his strikingly empty gaze, his eyes tend to be dull and unfocused as if he's looking at something that had already left.
The cursed mark rests on his right calf, a puncture wound with an outer fiery layer, almost like a dark sunken sun. When his power is used continuously the outer layer begings to slowly envelop his right leg, once it has completely enscapsulated his leg it begins to to pulsate making it difficult to use said foot. With each pulse it glows a dim green, and darkening with each thump.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Taltrus is a wandarer by nature, he roams around with no particular purpose. One could say he roams around looking for said purpose. His nature is to wander about aimlessly to try and find some purpose that gives him meaning.
He generally tries to be friendly and cordial with whom he converses with, though finding it difficult to do so as he tends to intimidate those who meet him. As much as he wants to socialise with others he lacks experience since many tend to avoid him or only do so when they need him to do something for them, and as such he tends to be awkward and clumsy when conversing. His voice is silent but creepingly cold and uninviting, and his stare is as if he was looking right past you.
In a fight he is cold, calculating, and frighteningly observing- he can easily discern an individual's habits and stance quickly, using their flaws and weaknesses as a time to strike. Such as using the windup inbetween stronger swings to land a counter attack. In a battle he is sharp and lives up to the presence he exudes.
As it stands he's alot more sympathetic than necessary, when taking on work he usually takes lower than initially decided/deserved and sometimes none at all if he notices that the family was in need more than he was. This becomes a problem at times as sometimes he runs dry and usually barely has enough to scrape by.
He's no stranger to tribal life and finds it endearing to at times. Though he can't ever find himself settling down as he always has a deep rooted feeling of finding a missing part of himself, even when he has little to no idea what it is. The beck and call of wandering has always triumphed his desire to be settle somewhere.
He generally tries to be friendly and cordial with whom he converses with, though finding it difficult to do so as he tends to intimidate those who meet him. As much as he wants to socialise with others he lacks experience since many tend to avoid him or only do so when they need him to do something for them, and as such he tends to be awkward and clumsy when conversing. His voice is silent but creepingly cold and uninviting, and his stare is as if he was looking right past you.
In a fight he is cold, calculating, and frighteningly observing- he can easily discern an individual's habits and stance quickly, using their flaws and weaknesses as a time to strike. Such as using the windup inbetween stronger swings to land a counter attack. In a battle he is sharp and lives up to the presence he exudes.
As it stands he's alot more sympathetic than necessary, when taking on work he usually takes lower than initially decided/deserved and sometimes none at all if he notices that the family was in need more than he was. This becomes a problem at times as sometimes he runs dry and usually barely has enough to scrape by.
He's no stranger to tribal life and finds it endearing to at times. Though he can't ever find himself settling down as he always has a deep rooted feeling of finding a missing part of himself, even when he has little to no idea what it is. The beck and call of wandering has always triumphed his desire to be settle somewhere.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Taltrus' hailed from a once great tribe. He finds it difficult to recall his earlier memories, his final one being the endless screaming and his village being razed to the ground, the memory forever burnt in his mind that he sees whenever he blinks are his parents being killed before set ablaze. Had it not been for his village's weapon master; Kreaner he would have perished then and there. He sustained heavy injury from the assailants but still managed to end haul Taltrus to the far edge of the forests. Before succumbing to his wounds he handed him his weapon and cloak, and sent Taltrus off with a smile.
In present day he is a travelling mercenary, taking normal to odd jobs. Rumors of his mastery of the sword circulate, one such is him being able to battle 5 assailants with not a single scratch on him afterwards; it is said that he is able to intuitively grasp your style of fighting after mere moments of clashing with him. Recently he had caught wind of the great gathering of clans, it is a no brainer that he would attend.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
In present day he is a travelling mercenary, taking normal to odd jobs. Rumors of his mastery of the sword circulate, one such is him being able to battle 5 assailants with not a single scratch on him afterwards; it is said that he is able to intuitively grasp your style of fighting after mere moments of clashing with him. Recently he had caught wind of the great gathering of clans, it is a no brainer that he would attend.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Risus ⥥ God of Hedonism, Wayfare, and Trickery. ⥥ Male ⥥ Demisexual ⍚
Life is a question of beings;
It is a question of heart in which thought hides itself, and passion has its dreams.
She, my friend, is the sky. Everything else is just the weather.
She always had that peculiar tinge about her, that look otherness of eyes that see too far,
and of thoughts that wander mindlessly off the edge of the world.
I know of the simple things that will keep me sane.
The beautiful things that allow me to keep my name.
Cool tongues speaking soft words of enlightenment and adoration,
A kiss here and a touch there, I dance with excitement
As new lives are engulfed in newer flames.
The boastful and merry celebration, the eager men and the beautiful women.
I like the simple simplicity of the world, the simple pleasures of man.
Could there be anything better?
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Risus prefers his original human(oid) form, should he so wish he can easily change what he looks like. His intricate, and orante cloak drapes lazily on the floor. Mortals depict his visage differently, all drawing inspiration from their own cultures. The consistent thing in most depictions is his ruby ring on his left hand. He generally tries not to make others perceive him as a god, he doesn't exude an overbearing or loyal presence. His posture is usually slack and formless when he is relaxed (mostly seen during times of gatherings).
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
~ His flamboyant presence in large gatherings.
~ Reluctant patron of Hedonism.
~ Easily charming crowds.
~ Laidback attitude.
~ Distrust of other gods.
~ The 'unfinished or imperfect' god.
~ In some cultures, known as 'Loki'.
~ Reluctant patron of Hedonism.
~ Easily charming crowds.
~ Laidback attitude.
~ Distrust of other gods.
~ The 'unfinished or imperfect' god.
~ In some cultures, known as 'Loki'.
[ ⍚ ] 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
Risus' earliest, and haziest memories were of him being human. He had forgotten when, and where however the memory that does not diminish was the immaculate, and otherwordly figure who approached him. The figure had challenged him to a peculiar contest. The next thing Risus could remember was waking up in a literal and metaphorical sense, he could feel power surging through himself. The figure who challenged him was a stony corpse collapsed on the floor next to empty barrel of various pungent liquids.
The few followers had informed Risus that he had 'ascended', taking the duties of the previous god he has bested in said competition, he thought them mad until he realised he himself didn't age, his body regressing back to its prime. It took him a few millenia to wrap his mind around it, him, a human had now outlived his friends and family, and had become a deity of sorts. He began to slowly embrace his godhood and began travelling accross the earth; gatherings, parties, events all lit up in his presence. Even the most drab, lifeless parties became events that echoed across the land for decades to come.
In parties Risus was charming, he could easily rouse a crowd and revive a dead party in seconds, his smile brightened up rooms, his laugh echoing merrily throughout the halls. He also wasn't a stranger to bringing more than a couple of women to bed (even a few goddesses). Places would be drained of their alcohol and mead as soon as the sun rose. Risus preferred not to stay in one place for too long as his presence promotes vehement reverence, and many gods did not take this well.
He also had a select group of followers, worshipping him as god. Risus wasn't exactly pleased with this, seeing the irony in worshipping a hedonistic god and urging all of them to follow a lifestyle of their own making. He winces whenever a group if his followed bent the knee in his presence, as even after centuries he still does not like being treated as a god, as he still thought himself part human and did not deserve any of the praise and reverence.
Many other gods disliked his presence, being 'inmpure' god; humans ascending to godhood was unheard of. This put him at odds with many other deities, meaning that Risus wasn't unfamiliar with battles against other gods, though normally opting to avoid gods unless it was a last resort. Due to this he resorts to trickery, and escapism as a primary tool for a quick getaway. As such he tries to avoid contact with other gods unless it cannot be avoided, he doesn't try and bother other gods preferring not to meddle in their affairs even actively avoiding the 'Dark Gods'.
Most nights with women were one time things, many unbelievably beautiful women were left behind. This was until he met his starkissed, when he first caught a glimpse of her it was as if time had meaning again. He tried his normal methods of flirtation but it didn't work on her, infact it took him years to even gain a smidgen of trust. He would've dropped his golden rule of keeping travelling for this woman had 'they' not interfered. Risus was particularly good at covering his tracks from other gods, but he had blundered and did not do so that well. It didn't help that he also stayed in one place, trying to woo his starkissed. They found him and whisked away his starkissed, they also had planned contingencies for his attempted escape.
They chanted dark words and Risus found his consciousness fading, by an ironic and cruel twist of fate, he was reborn as a human once more; he was born as Taltrus.
The few followers had informed Risus that he had 'ascended', taking the duties of the previous god he has bested in said competition, he thought them mad until he realised he himself didn't age, his body regressing back to its prime. It took him a few millenia to wrap his mind around it, him, a human had now outlived his friends and family, and had become a deity of sorts. He began to slowly embrace his godhood and began travelling accross the earth; gatherings, parties, events all lit up in his presence. Even the most drab, lifeless parties became events that echoed across the land for decades to come.
In parties Risus was charming, he could easily rouse a crowd and revive a dead party in seconds, his smile brightened up rooms, his laugh echoing merrily throughout the halls. He also wasn't a stranger to bringing more than a couple of women to bed (even a few goddesses). Places would be drained of their alcohol and mead as soon as the sun rose. Risus preferred not to stay in one place for too long as his presence promotes vehement reverence, and many gods did not take this well.
He also had a select group of followers, worshipping him as god. Risus wasn't exactly pleased with this, seeing the irony in worshipping a hedonistic god and urging all of them to follow a lifestyle of their own making. He winces whenever a group if his followed bent the knee in his presence, as even after centuries he still does not like being treated as a god, as he still thought himself part human and did not deserve any of the praise and reverence.
Many other gods disliked his presence, being 'inmpure' god; humans ascending to godhood was unheard of. This put him at odds with many other deities, meaning that Risus wasn't unfamiliar with battles against other gods, though normally opting to avoid gods unless it was a last resort. Due to this he resorts to trickery, and escapism as a primary tool for a quick getaway. As such he tries to avoid contact with other gods unless it cannot be avoided, he doesn't try and bother other gods preferring not to meddle in their affairs even actively avoiding the 'Dark Gods'.
Most nights with women were one time things, many unbelievably beautiful women were left behind. This was until he met his starkissed, when he first caught a glimpse of her it was as if time had meaning again. He tried his normal methods of flirtation but it didn't work on her, infact it took him years to even gain a smidgen of trust. He would've dropped his golden rule of keeping travelling for this woman had 'they' not interfered. Risus was particularly good at covering his tracks from other gods, but he had blundered and did not do so that well. It didn't help that he also stayed in one place, trying to woo his starkissed. They found him and whisked away his starkissed, they also had planned contingencies for his attempted escape.
They chanted dark words and Risus found his consciousness fading, by an ironic and cruel twist of fate, he was reborn as a human once more; he was born as Taltrus.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
- Indomitable will: It's not easy to get Taltrus to crack, he will follow through when he sets his mind to something.
- Tactically sound: Though he doesn't get into leadership roles much, he is an excellent tactician. He can change a plan on the fly with the least amount of injury/death when need be. This is helped by his natural aptitude for combat observation, he can tell when the winds of battle shift.
- Intuitive: His gut is usually right when he makes a call, he can tell when something is wrong.
- Hunting: He is an notable hunter, forged from the necessity of being a traveller. He respects nature and only takes the amount needed.
- Sword mastery: His sword is said to be able to cut falling leaves. It is a style that has no wasted movement, meticulous and purposeful to the point of gracefulness. His main tool is looking for openings to counter attack.
- Combat Perception: The ability to be able to 'perceive' your enemies way of thinking and fighting by anticipating their moves, and attacking when they're vulnurable. Taltrus is able to find flaws and weaknesses in others styles.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
Pleasures of a hedonistic god
Many hoped for Risus' presence in their parties, as it is said to be a great honor.
Charms of a wily god: Risus could instantly uplift the atmosphere in room of crowds all around him, this scrubs away negative feelings and helps even the most rigid person relax in times of turmoil. However, this ability is negated or greatly lessened in times of violence and danger.
The God's Spotlight: The attention of crowds can either be dispersed or fully focused directly onto Risus. He cannot turn the attention away unless people give him said attention, interacting with something which has a lot of attention on it or doing something that could draw attention could break the effect like trying to steal a painting that people are actively watching.
Revelry in Accordance: Risus can induce individuals to do what their hearts desire the most, this makes them pour out their deepest desires and act to it as soon as they are able. This cannot override a deeply inbedded sense of ideal or a survival instinct.
The God's Spotlight: The attention of crowds can either be dispersed or fully focused directly onto Risus. He cannot turn the attention away unless people give him said attention, interacting with something which has a lot of attention on it or doing something that could draw attention could break the effect like trying to steal a painting that people are actively watching.
Revelry in Accordance: Risus can induce individuals to do what their hearts desire the most, this makes them pour out their deepest desires and act to it as soon as they are able. This cannot override a deeply inbedded sense of ideal or a survival instinct.
Loki's Guile
The trickster, the riddler, the keeper of balance, he of the many faces who finds life in death and who fears no evil; he who walks through doors.
Walk the Aether: A small portal opens up on any flat surface sending Risus to a chosen location a distance away.
Shadow Step: Risus dips himself into the shadows, and can silently take departure into the darkness. If timed well he can avoid physical blows. He may also jump from shadow to shadow in the vicinity, it is invisible to the untrained eye but if one has a keen eye then can see the shadows shift irregularly when he's moving inbetwene them, if he is still there is no irregularity. If all the shadows in the area disappear, he is forced out of through the shadow he entered.
Absolute Illusion: The senses is a fickle thing, Risus can create illusions causing targets to see, hear, touch, smell and/or taste things which do not actually exist or cause them to perceive things differently from what they truly are. This skill has been used by Risus at times to fake his own death or as a distraction tool for a quick getaway. The maximum duration is 30 minutes.
Shadow Step: Risus dips himself into the shadows, and can silently take departure into the darkness. If timed well he can avoid physical blows. He may also jump from shadow to shadow in the vicinity, it is invisible to the untrained eye but if one has a keen eye then can see the shadows shift irregularly when he's moving inbetwene them, if he is still there is no irregularity. If all the shadows in the area disappear, he is forced out of through the shadow he entered.
Absolute Illusion: The senses is a fickle thing, Risus can create illusions causing targets to see, hear, touch, smell and/or taste things which do not actually exist or cause them to perceive things differently from what they truly are. This skill has been used by Risus at times to fake his own death or as a distraction tool for a quick getaway. The maximum duration is 30 minutes.
God's reluctance
There were times when Risus had no choice but to engage in a fight, though reluctant he was given no choice.
Shift of luck: With this Risus can manipulate the probability of something happening to a near one hundred percent. It is limited to an action he can do at that given time, and nothing impossible like calling down a meteor or certain death.
Irreverance of the Trickster: Risus has the ability to sap another individuals senses, he can choose to leave one sense or take them all away for a certain period of time. Risus' own senses gets bolstered (up to three times) during the duration of this effect.
Curse of a kind god: In his dying breath Risus can curse the land, everyone in the immediate area begins to hallucinate each of their own fears to life (not visible to anyone but the eye of the beholder). The land also gets cursed lasting for two incarnations, people (unless exempt by the Trickster) in the immediate vicinity gets their strength sapped and people are unable to feel visual any sort of pleasure making it impossible to have any sort of happy atmosphere. Villages and towns cannot exist in this area due to this, and only a few loners are able to live there.
Irreverance of the Trickster: Risus has the ability to sap another individuals senses, he can choose to leave one sense or take them all away for a certain period of time. Risus' own senses gets bolstered (up to three times) during the duration of this effect.
Curse of a kind god: In his dying breath Risus can curse the land, everyone in the immediate area begins to hallucinate each of their own fears to life (not visible to anyone but the eye of the beholder). The land also gets cursed lasting for two incarnations, people (unless exempt by the Trickster) in the immediate vicinity gets their strength sapped and people are unable to feel visual any sort of pleasure making it impossible to have any sort of happy atmosphere. Villages and towns cannot exist in this area due to this, and only a few loners are able to live there.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
~Dark Cloak
~Inherited ornate sword
~Dusty rucksack for his belongings
~A metal shaped in his old clans insignia
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: #d79c24
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: REQUIRED
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
HowlsOfWinter sad but rad
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
⍚ Xena ⥥ 18 ⥥ Female⥥ Heterosexual⍚
"There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
A petite and delicate-looking young woman. Xena stands at 5’5, with the grace and posture of a queen. Her long, silver hair flows past her hips and ends in soft waves, it’s smoothness and luster giving off the impression that she spends a good amount of time grooming it. Her amber eyes appear almost golden in the warm rays of the sun, and her thick lashes frame her sharp, almond eyes perfectly.
She is usually seen wearing a light and breathy dress commonly worn by women in her tribe; a haltered white dress with soft ruffles around the neck. The back is left bare to show off their distinct tattoos, and the fabric of the skirt flows effortlessly around their legs. Each member of the Abaneki Tribe has their own unique tattoos carved into their backs, each with different meanings and intricate designs. Xena’s tattoo is that of a soaring eagle, signifying that she will soar and reach great heights. People of her tribe also wear masks that bear animal features to signify beauty, strength, and the hunt.
The mark of her curse are her eyes themselves. When she uses her abilities, her amber irises slowly fade to white until she completely loses her vision. The curse eventually eats up her brain and sucks the life-force out of her, eventually turning her to dust.
She is usually seen wearing a light and breathy dress commonly worn by women in her tribe; a haltered white dress with soft ruffles around the neck. The back is left bare to show off their distinct tattoos, and the fabric of the skirt flows effortlessly around their legs. Each member of the Abaneki Tribe has their own unique tattoos carved into their backs, each with different meanings and intricate designs. Xena’s tattoo is that of a soaring eagle, signifying that she will soar and reach great heights. People of her tribe also wear masks that bear animal features to signify beauty, strength, and the hunt.
The mark of her curse are her eyes themselves. When she uses her abilities, her amber irises slowly fade to white until she completely loses her vision. The curse eventually eats up her brain and sucks the life-force out of her, eventually turning her to dust.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
A charismatic young woman with a graceful and elegant bearing. Xena is soft-spoken and polite, often giving strangers a small smile or a simple nod as she walks past them. She has a calm demeanor and a strong sense of conviction which can be seen in her focused eyes. She doesn't like to be confrontational for any reason, but she is strongly opinionated and is not afraid to get involved in a battle of wits — mainly for her to expand her own knowledge and ideas.
She has a love for knowledge and all things new. She deeply desires to travel and visit new places, meet new people, and experience new cultures. However, as the Chief's sole daughter, she has lived a sheltered life and for this reason, she spends most of her time reading as a way for her to learn more about the outside world.
Xena always carries herself with grace and an air of regality. She is confident, intelligent, and well-spoken — the general traits you’d expect from a Chief’s daughter. Her capacity to love and see the good in everyone is both seen as a strength and weakness; she will repay cruelty with kindness and anger with calm. However, despite her gentle nature, she is far from shy or weak, and this is a quality that her fellow tribesmen respect her for.
One would initially believe that she is perfect. Maybe too perfect. But this is a facade that she has carefully crafted in the last 18 years. Deep down, she does not know which parts of her are real and which ones were created to please her tribe. However, Xena is a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, so you will rarely see her fret about actual and potential problems. She believes that everyone is at the mercy of their own fates.
She has a love for knowledge and all things new. She deeply desires to travel and visit new places, meet new people, and experience new cultures. However, as the Chief's sole daughter, she has lived a sheltered life and for this reason, she spends most of her time reading as a way for her to learn more about the outside world.
Xena always carries herself with grace and an air of regality. She is confident, intelligent, and well-spoken — the general traits you’d expect from a Chief’s daughter. Her capacity to love and see the good in everyone is both seen as a strength and weakness; she will repay cruelty with kindness and anger with calm. However, despite her gentle nature, she is far from shy or weak, and this is a quality that her fellow tribesmen respect her for.
One would initially believe that she is perfect. Maybe too perfect. But this is a facade that she has carefully crafted in the last 18 years. Deep down, she does not know which parts of her are real and which ones were created to please her tribe. However, Xena is a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, so you will rarely see her fret about actual and potential problems. She believes that everyone is at the mercy of their own fates.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Xena is the sole daughter of the Abaneki tribe's chief. Her mother had passed away when she was young, leaving her in the care of her two protective older brothers. She grew up with the absence of hardships. People willingly did everything for her, despite it going against her wishes. Every day, she followed the same dull routine. Wake up early, groom your hair, practice the flute, and read the same books. The last 18 years have been facile and empty.
Xena dreams of someday leaving the tribe and traveling the world. There was so much more to learn, and she wishes to expand the knowledge that she has not only through reading books. She wishes to see new faces, hear new languages, and experience other cultures. Most of all, she just wants to be free.
Women in her tribe don't have any real authority, and as the chief's daughter, she exists only for political marriages. She knows she has more to offer, however, her only role as the chief's daughter is to be a beautiful and cultured lady. Xena quietly disdains the reality that she will never be in a position to do anything worthwhile, and she wishes to be able to change these pre-established societal rules in her lifetime.
Memories Retained:
Xena dreams of someday leaving the tribe and traveling the world. There was so much more to learn, and she wishes to expand the knowledge that she has not only through reading books. She wishes to see new faces, hear new languages, and experience other cultures. Most of all, she just wants to be free.
Women in her tribe don't have any real authority, and as the chief's daughter, she exists only for political marriages. She knows she has more to offer, however, her only role as the chief's daughter is to be a beautiful and cultured lady. Xena quietly disdains the reality that she will never be in a position to do anything worthwhile, and she wishes to be able to change these pre-established societal rules in her lifetime.
The Abaneki Tribe is a prestigious tribe situated in the north east. The village is surrounded by large trees, rare flowers, and various bodies of water. Its beauty is hidden away from the eyes of outsiders, and only those who know how to travel there can find it easily. For this reason—and the beautiful voices of the tribe—much superstition surrounds them.
The tribe is known for the beauty of its surroundings and the mysteries that surround it. The Abaneki Falls—their pride and sacred place of worship—is located in the heart of the village. The falls is a wonderful sight to behold and is said to be a place one must visit at least once in their lifetime.
The clan has access to many scrolls, even ones dating back to a thousand years. These writings talk about their history and are brimming with legend and folklore. A famous legend surrounding their tribe claims that their ancestors were sirens and beautiful sprites of the forest.
The women of the Abaneki tribe excel in arts and music. Men, on the other hand, are skilled at hunting and fighting—their swift tactics being second to none. In their tribe, it is a man’s job to fight, hunt, and protect. Women are not allowed to pick up a weapon so as not to taint their "purity". Men of this tribe are also known for their chivalry.
The tribe is known for the beauty of its surroundings and the mysteries that surround it. The Abaneki Falls—their pride and sacred place of worship—is located in the heart of the village. The falls is a wonderful sight to behold and is said to be a place one must visit at least once in their lifetime.
The clan has access to many scrolls, even ones dating back to a thousand years. These writings talk about their history and are brimming with legend and folklore. A famous legend surrounding their tribe claims that their ancestors were sirens and beautiful sprites of the forest.
The women of the Abaneki tribe excel in arts and music. Men, on the other hand, are skilled at hunting and fighting—their swift tactics being second to none. In their tribe, it is a man’s job to fight, hunt, and protect. Women are not allowed to pick up a weapon so as not to taint their "purity". Men of this tribe are also known for their chivalry.
Memories Retained:
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ ASTERIA ⥥ GODDESS OF JUDGEMENT AND THE WEAVING OF COSMIC TIME AND FATE ⥥ FEMALE⥥ HETEROSEXUAL⍚
Selfish decisions and choices I've made
Led up to the loss of a love now forbade
Though the feelings remain a grin crosses my face
For not a thing matters, the time nor the place
Weavers of fate hold the rights to the thread
For one whom controls has no power of head
As time passes by I now lie in wait
For the one who can show me, my Weaver of fate
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Asteria is a goddess of short stature. She has long, beautiful, silver hair that falls to the ground. Her skin is pale and soft, bringing out her icy blue eyes and rosy lips. Asteria is known to take on two personas. One as the Goddess of Judgement, and the other as the Weaver of Fate. As The Judge, she appears to the souls of mortals clad in majestic armor which gleams bright, blinding those who do not deserve her mercy and sending them to their next lives with terrible fortune. As The Weaver, she wears a dark burgundy dress with an armored vest. However, she is rarely seen as she spends most of her time in The Island of Creation.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
▶ Weaving the threads of fate
▶ Messing with time: In the past, Asteria would often mess with time in order to alter the fates of those she was in favor of. Because of this, the Keeper of Time came into being. The Elder Gods made sure that the other Gods would no longer be able to mess with the timeline for their own selfish needs.
▶ The song of the weaver. The melodies are of haunting beauty.
▶ Appearing to mortals as a fairy. Often as a premonition of death.
▶ Granting the wishes of those who sang songs of praises
▶ Messing with time: In the past, Asteria would often mess with time in order to alter the fates of those she was in favor of. Because of this, the Keeper of Time came into being. The Elder Gods made sure that the other Gods would no longer be able to mess with the timeline for their own selfish needs.
▶ The song of the weaver. The melodies are of haunting beauty.
▶ Appearing to mortals as a fairy. Often as a premonition of death.
▶ Granting the wishes of those who sang songs of praises
[ ⍚ ] 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
Island of creation
The island of creation is the place where all life began. It is the home of Asteria, and is a heavily guarded place, as anyone who can slay her can change their fate and control time itself.
Threads of Fate
A collection of woven threads. Also known as the Threads of Life. These threads represent the life and storyline of any person or creature in the world. If one can get a hold of their thread, they are able to change their own destiny.
Temple of Fates
Sacred temple located high on the Island of Creation. It is hidden in a sea of dark mist.
Loom Chamber
Located deep within the Temple of Fates. This is the room where Asteria weaves the threads of life for all beings.
Runes
The runes are an alphabet with each letter carved on a wooden button. Each letter is associated with a possible event type. The buttons are placed in a bag and drawn out one by one. The order and nature of the ones drawn are used to determine the future.
Weaving of Fate
The weaver lays out a plan for each person at birth through a game of chance. A lottery is used to distribute every good and bad of the world to every mortal born. A bag is filled with these goods and bads, and the tokens are drawn out before a person is reincarnated. The lottery is done so that everyone can have an equal chance at gaining something good. This would normally be a random event. However, the weaver can draw out tokens that would increase the probability of an event occurring. She does this when she favors a being, or has looked into the previous life of a person and saw that they deserved something good. When the fabric is cut, it signifies the time of death.
The island of creation is the place where all life began. It is the home of Asteria, and is a heavily guarded place, as anyone who can slay her can change their fate and control time itself.
Threads of Fate
A collection of woven threads. Also known as the Threads of Life. These threads represent the life and storyline of any person or creature in the world. If one can get a hold of their thread, they are able to change their own destiny.
Temple of Fates
Sacred temple located high on the Island of Creation. It is hidden in a sea of dark mist.
Loom Chamber
Located deep within the Temple of Fates. This is the room where Asteria weaves the threads of life for all beings.
Runes
The runes are an alphabet with each letter carved on a wooden button. Each letter is associated with a possible event type. The buttons are placed in a bag and drawn out one by one. The order and nature of the ones drawn are used to determine the future.
Weaving of Fate
The weaver lays out a plan for each person at birth through a game of chance. A lottery is used to distribute every good and bad of the world to every mortal born. A bag is filled with these goods and bads, and the tokens are drawn out before a person is reincarnated. The lottery is done so that everyone can have an equal chance at gaining something good. This would normally be a random event. However, the weaver can draw out tokens that would increase the probability of an event occurring. She does this when she favors a being, or has looked into the previous life of a person and saw that they deserved something good. When the fabric is cut, it signifies the time of death.
Asteria, The Weaver of Fate
"The curse you've placed upon the Gods.. I have seen this occur a thousand years ago, but I bothered not to mess with the threads of fate. That, until the day mine eyes met his. No doubt, he is my Starkissed. He, whom you have cursed and cast away."
"Ah.." The Dark God chuckled. "You should have known from the beginning that he is your Starkissed -- your destined lover. You have knowledge of the past, present, and the future."
"You forget that I don't weave my own thread, nor can I look into my own future. However, I assure you that things will not go your way. Take caution, fellow God. Heed my warning." Her voice was calm and soft, almost like a melody ringing in one's ear.
The Dark God laughed, mocking her. "So you would dare defy fate for your own selfish desires? As you said, this has been woven in the threads of life. To change the events that have occurred is selfish and abominable. Even you must not mess with time and fate. "
The Weaver chuckled softly as she saw a hint of fear in the God's eyes, masked with confidence and bitterness. "I have no business with the past and the future. I simply trust that fate will be on my side," she replied with a distant look in her eyes, as if she was seeing something the dark god couldn't -- a vision, perhaps.
"Oh? Surely, you have not forgotten that fate will no longer exist when you are gone. The future will now rely on the choices of every creature born."
Asteria's lips curled up into a soft smile, one devoid of any malicious intent. "Fate will never truly cease to exist as long as I am here. And I have faith in the choices we will make. Alas, curse me. So I can join my beloved."
Everything went dark. The moment she awoke, she had no memories and was born as Xena.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
- Intuitive: Blessed with the power of intuition, allowing her to make better decisions and sense threat before it comes
- Green Thumb: The knowledge of plants. She can identify which plants are edible and which plants are poisonous. She can also decipher which plants have healing properties and which ones don't.
- Observant: She observes the slightest change in behavior or movement. She can read a person's body language, allowing her to identify whether a person is lying or not.
- Adaptive: Can easily adapt to changes in food, environment, and other things
- Melody: Using her flute, she plays a melody that has been passed on from generation to generation. The song has a mysterious effect on animals, calming them down and making them less likely to attack.
- Singing: Xena, like many others in her tribe, is blessed with a beautiful singing voice. Her voice is so beautiful and soothing, it makes you let go of your ill-feelings temporalily.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
Life Force: 0/0
▶Illuminate: Weakest Ability
Asteria has been known to grant the wishes of those who worshiped her and often took pity on the souls who were destined to live a life filled with bad fortune.
•Make A Wish: Asteria is able to grant any wish without any limitations. It will come true no matter what. In her mortal shell, Xena can only grant small wishes. Such as receiving a certain gift for their birthday, meeting a possible love interest, or winning the lottery.
•Song of the weaver: The Weaver sings an enchanting song and any soul who happens to hear this melody will be granted better fortune (luck) in their next life. As Xena, the song can grant others a temporary buff in Luck which lasts for the next 12 hours.
•Fae Regenaration: Asteria has the ability transform herself into a fairy. A fairy sighting was usually a premonition of some sort, perhaps death. When Xena is in this form, it speeds up her ability to heal from any physical injury.
•Song of the weaver: The Weaver sings an enchanting song and any soul who happens to hear this melody will be granted better fortune (luck) in their next life. As Xena, the song can grant others a temporary buff in Luck which lasts for the next 12 hours.
•Fae Regenaration: Asteria has the ability transform herself into a fairy. A fairy sighting was usually a premonition of some sort, perhaps death. When Xena is in this form, it speeds up her ability to heal from any physical injury.
▶Luminous Sphere: Moderate Ability
The Goddess can look into the soul of mortals and see if they're fated to be good or evil.
• Probability manipulation: Asteria has the ability to shape and manipulate destiny. She can determine the outcome of battles/situations. To those she favors, she can change the odds in their favor and make their destiny brighter. As Xena, she can greatly increase the probability of an event occurring, though the outcome would largely depend on the choices made.
• Omniscience: Asteria has the ability to see the past, present, and future of every creature: mortal, beast, and God. She knows which actions one would take to achieve certain goals, as well as what the outcome of their actions would be. In her mortal shell, Xena is able see small fragments of someone's past and foresee possible futures and observe what may happen. Attempting to see more than she is able to will lead to her death.
•Judgement: As the Goddess of Judgement, Asteria has the ability to determine whether someone is fated to be good or evil. She delivers her judgment at the end of someone's life and then determines their destiny in their next life. As Xena, she is able to invoke a blessing or curse upon someone. This enables the target to start off the next era with good fortune or bad fortune.
• Omniscience: Asteria has the ability to see the past, present, and future of every creature: mortal, beast, and God. She knows which actions one would take to achieve certain goals, as well as what the outcome of their actions would be. In her mortal shell, Xena is able see small fragments of someone's past and foresee possible futures and observe what may happen. Attempting to see more than she is able to will lead to her death.
•Judgement: As the Goddess of Judgement, Asteria has the ability to determine whether someone is fated to be good or evil. She delivers her judgment at the end of someone's life and then determines their destiny in their next life. As Xena, she is able to invoke a blessing or curse upon someone. This enables the target to start off the next era with good fortune or bad fortune.
▶Filomena: Strongest Ability
Everyone is at the mercy of their fates.
• Causality manipulation: As the Weaver of Fate, Asteria has the ability to manipulate a mortal's lifespan. If she decided it was time to die, she had the ability to cut the thread of fate and end it. As Xena, she has the ability to curse someone to live a life filled with misfortune. They will most likely fail in most of their endeavors, fall ill, or constantly find themselves in dangerous situations. Death will always come knocking at their doorsteps.(e.g. decrease their chances of surviving a fatal wound, decrease their chances of escaping a dangerous situation, etc.) This grants a huge debuff in Luck which lasts until the user's death.
• Fate Deny Asteria can deny the effects of fate. This allows her to revoke the effects of any pre-determined existence. As a mortal, she is not immune -- and can not grant someone the immunity -- to fate, but she is able to deny and delay its effects. (e.g. if someone was destined to die, they would be able to ignore that and live longer than they should.) This ability does not work if the cause of death was due to the curse.
• Rewrite: Asteria is able to completely rewrite a person's destiny. This ability allows her to change a person's story from birth to death, jumping back to their past or their future. However, there are exceptions when using this ability. One example: If a person dies because they were fated to, rewriting their fate will mess with the order of time and affect other threads of fate. Therefore, she is forbidden to use this as she could create dangerous paradoxes and possibly even erase her very own existence.
• Fate Deny Asteria can deny the effects of fate. This allows her to revoke the effects of any pre-determined existence. As a mortal, she is not immune -- and can not grant someone the immunity -- to fate, but she is able to deny and delay its effects. (e.g. if someone was destined to die, they would be able to ignore that and live longer than they should.) This ability does not work if the cause of death was due to the curse.
• Rewrite: Asteria is able to completely rewrite a person's destiny. This ability allows her to change a person's story from birth to death, jumping back to their past or their future. However, there are exceptions when using this ability. One example: If a person dies because they were fated to, rewriting their fate will mess with the order of time and affect other threads of fate. Therefore, she is forbidden to use this as she could create dangerous paradoxes and possibly even erase her very own existence.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
- Mask: A mask that she wears. Each tribe member receives their own mask at the age of ten.
- Golden flute: Her favorite instrument. It was given to her by her father as a present during her coming of age ceremony.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R Colour Code: lightpink
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Yes.
MiddleEarthRoze The Ultimate Pupper
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
⍚ Iakobos ⥥ 32 ⥥ Male ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚
"It takes faith to believe your God will save you. It takes intelligence to realise that your God will do this not through divine intervention, but through the labours of others."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
"For what Iakobos lacks in build, he makes up for in his height - standing at 6'7", he usually towers above others in his tribe, and has dealt with more than a few "how's-the-weather-up-there" jokes in his lifetime. As a teenager, the best term to describe him was gangly; ungainly and ungraceful with too long limbs as he grew. Thankfully, as adulthood approached, Iakobos has become more comfortable in his own skin. Long strides are confident rather than stumbling, and his frame has some wiry muscle packed onto it to lessen his look of awkward boniness. His face has retained this sharpness, and as nothing other than fat will change that, he's happy to keep it that way. Over-consumption is not an admirable trait.
The resting face of Iakobos would best be described as stoic, to a degree. His dark brown eyes look oddly bright underneath sharp brows, and with a hood usually pulled over his head and face, shadows often accentuate his sharp features. High cheekbones, a strong, narrow nose, and tight-lipped smiles give off an air of coolness. Iakobos' baritone voice only adds to this, what with his tones being mellow and calm - his pitch or volume rarely change, even when amused or angered. To hear him laugh much is rare, but if a chuckle is brought from him, his shadowed face seems to spring to life just a bit more.
As for his clothing, he favours robes, and hoods are often seen hiding his hair. While he keeps his brown curls washed as much as possible, they are fairly untameable. He prefers to simply tie the shoulder-length locks up and hide them away. The robes themselves are practical for his work, versatile for dealing with various changes in weather, and also quite comfortable to sleep in. Not to mention it's amazing how many small weapons one can hide in the folds of the cloth. Iakobos has a fair few in different colours, but tries to keep them as muted as possible. Bright yellows and reds are not appropriate wear for one who enjoys avoiding attention.
Iakobos' curse mark is no longer visible, after having been covered up by a tattoo. Originally, the mark was a spiral, located on his left shoulder-blade, but was covered over and made into the likeness of a sun. When his powers are used, the spiral extends and mutates, tendrils coming from it and burning into his skin. As time goes on and the mark grows with his usage of powers, he experiences terrible chest pains. When the tendrils have taken up most of his back, neck, and worked it's way around to his chest, he is close to death; once it reaches his heart, he'll not survive long. "
The resting face of Iakobos would best be described as stoic, to a degree. His dark brown eyes look oddly bright underneath sharp brows, and with a hood usually pulled over his head and face, shadows often accentuate his sharp features. High cheekbones, a strong, narrow nose, and tight-lipped smiles give off an air of coolness. Iakobos' baritone voice only adds to this, what with his tones being mellow and calm - his pitch or volume rarely change, even when amused or angered. To hear him laugh much is rare, but if a chuckle is brought from him, his shadowed face seems to spring to life just a bit more.
As for his clothing, he favours robes, and hoods are often seen hiding his hair. While he keeps his brown curls washed as much as possible, they are fairly untameable. He prefers to simply tie the shoulder-length locks up and hide them away. The robes themselves are practical for his work, versatile for dealing with various changes in weather, and also quite comfortable to sleep in. Not to mention it's amazing how many small weapons one can hide in the folds of the cloth. Iakobos has a fair few in different colours, but tries to keep them as muted as possible. Bright yellows and reds are not appropriate wear for one who enjoys avoiding attention.
Iakobos' curse mark is no longer visible, after having been covered up by a tattoo. Originally, the mark was a spiral, located on his left shoulder-blade, but was covered over and made into the likeness of a sun. When his powers are used, the spiral extends and mutates, tendrils coming from it and burning into his skin. As time goes on and the mark grows with his usage of powers, he experiences terrible chest pains. When the tendrils have taken up most of his back, neck, and worked it's way around to his chest, he is close to death; once it reaches his heart, he'll not survive long. "
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
"Although Iakobos can often come across as aloof or cold, this is generally just a byproduct of his tendency to seek isolation. While certainly not against having friends, he's never been one to draw attention to himself. At festivals, he can usually be seen on the fringes of various events, drinking alone, but still generally having an enjoyable time. Small talk with strangers and acquaintances is exactly that - very small indeed. While he may come across as disinterested, Iakobos simply is a man of few words. When it comes to those he doesn't know very well, anyway. Politeness and even kindness is a constant for him, unless speaking with someone who doesn't deserve it. Amongst friends however, he has a tendency to open up. A more colourful personality takes the front when with those he likes, as a love for poetry, music and art flows free from the once quiet individual. Iakobos does have passion in his heart, particularly for those artist talents that can't be learnt or taught, but for that natural flair which individuals are born with.
Typically, Iakobos is very much involved with his work, so enjoying moments with friends is sometimes a rare occasion for him. He never tells people why he puts so much time into his work as a healer, but that is perhaps because he doesn't know the answer himself. Whether because he wants to avoid going back to an empty home after a long day, or simply just to keep up some form of purpose in his life, Iakobos isn't entirely sure. Either way, these rare moments away from his work are generally spent alone."
Typically, Iakobos is very much involved with his work, so enjoying moments with friends is sometimes a rare occasion for him. He never tells people why he puts so much time into his work as a healer, but that is perhaps because he doesn't know the answer himself. Whether because he wants to avoid going back to an empty home after a long day, or simply just to keep up some form of purpose in his life, Iakobos isn't entirely sure. Either way, these rare moments away from his work are generally spent alone."
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
"The Mordwin Tribe started out many years ago as a simple caravan of hunters. As time grew on, this group grew, as did their source of income. Jobs branched out into other areas, and soon it had become a small society of nomads, increasing in size and wealth with each passing year. By the time Iakobos was born to Petyr and Athis, the group had become a tribe of it's own; named Mordwin for the first hunter who founded the caravan it started out as, it now contained several hundred people, all of varying social statuses and vocations. As for Iakobos' family, they were considered quite at the top of the food chain in this wandering clan. Not quite the Leaders, but close enough to have certain values to uphold. One of these was for Iakobos to join the Chieftain's guard and become his Head Advisor when he grew old enough - a fine position, reserved for only the bravest and wisest; but what made the position even more beneficial was their current Tribe Leader had no heir. Petyr hoped that with getting his own son to bond with the Chief, his family could inherit the position at the time of the Chieftain's death.
Iakobos was not happy with this arrangement.
While his father wanted him to fight, Iakobos wanted to learn more about the outside world; the other tribes, the static ones. He also developed a keen interest in healing, due to his mother's tendency to help out the Clan's healer and midwife when they needed assistance. Thankfully for Iakobos, Athis persuaded Petyr to let him learn the things he wanted (saying it would aid him when it came to the advisory role his father wanted for him) - on the condition he also learnt the skills Petyr demanded. Although not particularly happy with the situation, Iakobos couldn't deny that learning to fight and hunt were undoubtedly useful skills, particularly in a tribe like his own. Constantly moving was dangerous business, but it was what the people were used to - they had no reason to suddenly change their way of life.
As time passed, this understanding between Iakobos and his father grew stale. The role as Head Advisor may be an influential position, but Iakobos did not want it - his skill as a healer was growing, and he knew he could help more people by going into that work. His father couldn't accept this, and the two were constantly at blows. The arguments would have been a semi-permanent thing, were it not for the tragic end to Athis. Pregnant with twins, she died in childbirth after complications, the male twin dying with her and the female one barely clinging to life. Several months after her death, Petyr was still distraught and nearly mad with grief over the loss of his wife and son. His daughter - named Isadora - had been nursed to full strength thanks to what Iakobos had learnt. Although grateful for his eldest's skill, Petyr couldn't convey it properly. The two had fought for so long, it was hard for him to show anything positive without coming across as condescending. Errant words of praise turned into digs, and as soon as Isadora had turned one, Petyr was back to hounding his son for taking the job as advisor. Eventually the two came to blows, and after a raging argument, Petyr threatened to disown Iakobos if he did not do as he was told. In the Mordwin Tribe, disownment was a dreadful thing to threaten. It was not just from the family, but from the entire Tribe - they would become exiled, left to fend for themselves. If they were spotted, everyone in the Tribe had permission to kill the disowned individual. Iakobos would normally ignore such a threat, even with how serious it was - but Petyr was still ridden with grief over the death of his beloved, and the son who never got to grow up. He feared that his father would make good on his threat... and so, Iakobos would leave of his own accord.
Now as a man at the age of 18, Iakobos left the clan that night, not thinking clearly in his own grief. By the time he had changed his mind about leaving, it was hopeless to go back. Days had passed, and the clan would have moved on. Even he wanted to, Iakobos didn't dare try to find the clan again; is his father had followed through on his threat of disownment, then his life would be at risk. Trying to ignore his regret, Iakobos went on westwards, hoping to find a new home.
After several years of wandering; visiting various different clans and building on his experience as a nomadic healer, he finally settled in Longear Tribe at the age of 27. The position of apprentice healer was vacant, and he had more than enough experience to take the job - although distrusted at first as a stranger, the people of the tribe eventually got used to him, and his skill has only grown since then. Now Head healer after the death of his teacher, Iakobos is somewhat apprehensive at going to this gathering of clans. Typically, the Mordwin Tribe never went to these gatherings, but times change. Rules dictate that exiles are not to be killed at gatherings such as these, as the ground is neutral... but he can't help but wonder what would happen should he reunite his father, or the sister he never got to know."
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
Iakobos was not happy with this arrangement.
While his father wanted him to fight, Iakobos wanted to learn more about the outside world; the other tribes, the static ones. He also developed a keen interest in healing, due to his mother's tendency to help out the Clan's healer and midwife when they needed assistance. Thankfully for Iakobos, Athis persuaded Petyr to let him learn the things he wanted (saying it would aid him when it came to the advisory role his father wanted for him) - on the condition he also learnt the skills Petyr demanded. Although not particularly happy with the situation, Iakobos couldn't deny that learning to fight and hunt were undoubtedly useful skills, particularly in a tribe like his own. Constantly moving was dangerous business, but it was what the people were used to - they had no reason to suddenly change their way of life.
As time passed, this understanding between Iakobos and his father grew stale. The role as Head Advisor may be an influential position, but Iakobos did not want it - his skill as a healer was growing, and he knew he could help more people by going into that work. His father couldn't accept this, and the two were constantly at blows. The arguments would have been a semi-permanent thing, were it not for the tragic end to Athis. Pregnant with twins, she died in childbirth after complications, the male twin dying with her and the female one barely clinging to life. Several months after her death, Petyr was still distraught and nearly mad with grief over the loss of his wife and son. His daughter - named Isadora - had been nursed to full strength thanks to what Iakobos had learnt. Although grateful for his eldest's skill, Petyr couldn't convey it properly. The two had fought for so long, it was hard for him to show anything positive without coming across as condescending. Errant words of praise turned into digs, and as soon as Isadora had turned one, Petyr was back to hounding his son for taking the job as advisor. Eventually the two came to blows, and after a raging argument, Petyr threatened to disown Iakobos if he did not do as he was told. In the Mordwin Tribe, disownment was a dreadful thing to threaten. It was not just from the family, but from the entire Tribe - they would become exiled, left to fend for themselves. If they were spotted, everyone in the Tribe had permission to kill the disowned individual. Iakobos would normally ignore such a threat, even with how serious it was - but Petyr was still ridden with grief over the death of his beloved, and the son who never got to grow up. He feared that his father would make good on his threat... and so, Iakobos would leave of his own accord.
Now as a man at the age of 18, Iakobos left the clan that night, not thinking clearly in his own grief. By the time he had changed his mind about leaving, it was hopeless to go back. Days had passed, and the clan would have moved on. Even he wanted to, Iakobos didn't dare try to find the clan again; is his father had followed through on his threat of disownment, then his life would be at risk. Trying to ignore his regret, Iakobos went on westwards, hoping to find a new home.
After several years of wandering; visiting various different clans and building on his experience as a nomadic healer, he finally settled in Longear Tribe at the age of 27. The position of apprentice healer was vacant, and he had more than enough experience to take the job - although distrusted at first as a stranger, the people of the tribe eventually got used to him, and his skill has only grown since then. Now Head healer after the death of his teacher, Iakobos is somewhat apprehensive at going to this gathering of clans. Typically, the Mordwin Tribe never went to these gatherings, but times change. Rules dictate that exiles are not to be killed at gatherings such as these, as the ground is neutral... but he can't help but wonder what would happen should he reunite his father, or the sister he never got to know."
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Nyonwë ⥥ God of Faith, Diligence & Intelligence ⥥ Male ⥥ Pansexual ⍚
Dark God
<All ye be wary of the lone vagrant traveller on the roads; for a simple beggar-man he may not be. Tales tell of noblemen and rich ladies, shunning him as he begs for food in exchange for his last coin. They were foolish, for Nyonwë knows all faith. All errant prayers, blasphemers, heretics and supposed do-gooders are known to him, as are their actions. Those who defy the words of their God, or claim virtues when sin only remains, will incur the wrath of Nyonwë. Such noble lords and ladies who deny charity, are denying their Gods whom they worship - and are also denying Him. His justice is quick and fervent, and all those who fail him and their Gods' words will fall.>
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
"In most occurrences, Nyonwë would appear to mortals in an image of themselves; a simple man, unremarkable in most aspects. His cloth was poor, his face average, and he carried nothing but a single coin with him. In most legends, this was done to test people; supposed holy men and women that should be just and charitable to all, or however their specific religion dictated. If they passed him by while ignoring his pleas (For no good reason, that is) his image would shift into that of a tall warrior-priest. Eyes and hands glowing with ethereal light, armour pieces appear over his once ragged robes, and a shining mace manifests out of thin air. His presence becomes awesome to look upon, and most mortals find themselves unable to look him in the eye, some throwing themselves to the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at his image. For other immortals, this effect of discomfort rarely affects them, unless they are particularly dark."
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- Faith, Hope, & Religion
- Sins & Virtues
- Learning, Memory, Deduction
- Intelligence
- Diligence, Stamina & Perseverance
- Sacrifices, Prayers, and other methods of Worship
- The realms of the Gods; their rules, their divine will, and their actions.
- The legend of the Holy Grail
[ ⍚ ] 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
"As it stands, Nyonwë was never known for much unless it had something to do with another God. While he was a patron of intelligence and hard work, his main domain was that of faith, and ensuring that mortals kept in line with what they had pledged to do or be for their particular God. Some deities thrived from sacrifices or offerings, and it was down to Nyonwë to ensure this happened. While particular Gods could invoke their wrath if feeling angry, it was Nyonwë who remained ever watchful. No stone went unturned when it came to his upholding of holy laws... but as time passed, things began to grow lax.
More and more mortals were disobeying their Gods, but what made it worse was that some Gods themselves stopped caring. They had grown over-indulgent, happy with their powers and to just let things be. The one thing that made people even care about Nyonwë was fading. Those praying for aid in diligence were turning to Gods of War, Toil, or Work. Those wanting Intelligence would pray to Gods of Invention; of the Arts, of Language, of Wisdom or Memory.
He was becoming obsolete. Unknown, unimportant, pointless. The God of Faith began to lose it himself, and in desperation, turned against those holy rules that he held so dear. The Gods needed to learn humility, as did the humans. When word reached him of the Dark Gods and their deeds, Nyonwë was at first believed to be one of their main opponents. But instead, he joined them; in his mind, casting the Gods down would teach them humbleness, and perhaps the lack of the Gods and their divine actions on earth would show the mortals the error in their ways. But guilt overcame Nyonwë as he saw the full extent of their actions. Starkissed were being torn from one another, and in his moments of blind vengeance, he discovered that his too had been cast down and cursed. Deciding that he no longer deserved to bear the mantle of immortality, Nyonwë followed his fallen kin, to live our the rest of his days as a mortal."
More and more mortals were disobeying their Gods, but what made it worse was that some Gods themselves stopped caring. They had grown over-indulgent, happy with their powers and to just let things be. The one thing that made people even care about Nyonwë was fading. Those praying for aid in diligence were turning to Gods of War, Toil, or Work. Those wanting Intelligence would pray to Gods of Invention; of the Arts, of Language, of Wisdom or Memory.
He was becoming obsolete. Unknown, unimportant, pointless. The God of Faith began to lose it himself, and in desperation, turned against those holy rules that he held so dear. The Gods needed to learn humility, as did the humans. When word reached him of the Dark Gods and their deeds, Nyonwë was at first believed to be one of their main opponents. But instead, he joined them; in his mind, casting the Gods down would teach them humbleness, and perhaps the lack of the Gods and their divine actions on earth would show the mortals the error in their ways. But guilt overcame Nyonwë as he saw the full extent of their actions. Starkissed were being torn from one another, and in his moments of blind vengeance, he discovered that his too had been cast down and cursed. Deciding that he no longer deserved to bear the mantle of immortality, Nyonwë followed his fallen kin, to live our the rest of his days as a mortal."
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Scholar: Thanks to his background, Iakobos is able to read and write.
- Healer: Following his training, and then several years of experience, Iakobos is quite skilled in aiding the hurt and ill. Medicines, surgery and emergency first-aid are his forte.
- Observer: Due to his quiet nature - and the necessity of keeping a keen eye on patients - Iakobos' skill in perception has been honed over the years; as such, he knows quite a few rumours.
- Hunter: Belonging to a wandering tribe meant that hunting was far more important, due to a lack of crops to farm from. Iakobos learn alongside his sister how to hunt properly, but due to his lack of experience with a bow, prefers to use traps rather than tracking down actual prey.
- Swordsman: Thanks to formal training paid by his father, Iakobos has some decent skill with a sword. While no expert, it's certainly enough to defend himself out in the wilds.
- Stave-master: It is instead with the staff that his true talent lies. The length of wood allows him to attack those that would otherwise be out of reach, whilst avoiding their own blows. He has become quite adept at wielding it, and is capable of landing painful, or even fatal blows, with it.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
These will unlock as we continue.
Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)
Ability 1: Psychometry
Intelligence is defined as the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills; Iakobos can take advantage of this, as he searches the minds of others and take what they have learnt.
The Hills Have Eyes: Information can be pulled from inanimate objects to see events that have transpired before them. The less energy (Or life) the object has, the less clear the image will be in Iakobos' mind. Additionally, the more time that has passed since the event will cause the image to deteriorate.
The World is Watching: Information to answer a simple question can be pulled from the mind of an intelligent being, so long as they are willing. Only a vague sense of action and memory can be witnessed, without emotion or feeling.
Mind Meld: Information can be swapped with a being; if Iakobos wants someone to understand something very quickly, he can meld either his mind or another's to theirs, allowing the information to essentially be downloaded. While it has the ability to be very powerful, the melding of minds must be done with consent by all parties. An unwilling mind cannot take part in this process.
The World is Watching: Information to answer a simple question can be pulled from the mind of an intelligent being, so long as they are willing. Only a vague sense of action and memory can be witnessed, without emotion or feeling.
Mind Meld: Information can be swapped with a being; if Iakobos wants someone to understand something very quickly, he can meld either his mind or another's to theirs, allowing the information to essentially be downloaded. While it has the ability to be very powerful, the melding of minds must be done with consent by all parties. An unwilling mind cannot take part in this process.
Ability 2: Perseverance
Subjects dedicate their time and effort to achieve a goal... whether they want to or not.
Rigour: One's fatigue slips away as they are imbued with a new sense of purpose and commitment.
Coalition: A group of people are suddenly able to work together for a common cause they believe in, as they set aside all disagreements until their task is complete.
Labourer's Lament: A person is forced to toil away at a labourer's task, whether they really want to or not, for either until the task is complete or for the duration of a day. Pain and fatigue disappear while doing so, but this can prove detrimental as injuries are not lost during this time.
Coalition: A group of people are suddenly able to work together for a common cause they believe in, as they set aside all disagreements until their task is complete.
Labourer's Lament: A person is forced to toil away at a labourer's task, whether they really want to or not, for either until the task is complete or for the duration of a day. Pain and fatigue disappear while doing so, but this can prove detrimental as injuries are not lost during this time.
Ability 3: Faith
Most people have faith, including Iakobos himself. No matter how small, it can be used - for just or unjust needs.
Mark Against Evil: Items and people can be blessed with holy magic to ward away evil and the dark.
Forceful Followers: Iakobos can turn up to twenty unwilling mortal individuals into his own followers; cursing them to become dangerous zealots who's only purpose in life is to serve him.
Godly Justice: Iakobos takes on the form of his previous, immortal life; glowing with a brilliant holy light, he is imbued with his godly strength and can use it to fight enemies and protect others. However, since his actions as a Dark God, he is no longer immune to his own holy powers - he becomes consumed by the light as it eats away at his own corruption.
Forceful Followers: Iakobos can turn up to twenty unwilling mortal individuals into his own followers; cursing them to become dangerous zealots who's only purpose in life is to serve him.
Godly Justice: Iakobos takes on the form of his previous, immortal life; glowing with a brilliant holy light, he is imbued with his godly strength and can use it to fight enemies and protect others. However, since his actions as a Dark God, he is no longer immune to his own holy powers - he becomes consumed by the light as it eats away at his own corruption.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
- Some medicinal herbs and poultices
- First aid kit containing a cauterising set, bandages, needle & thread, and scalpels amongst other things.
- Rope; for creating traps
- 6-foot long stave; weighted at one end to create a harder point to hit with.
- A medium sized, thin blade.
- A couple of small knives hidden about his robes.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
Colour Code: darkseagreen, and #55867d.
The Chieftain of the Mordwin Tribe is called Tereseus.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Yeet
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.
Apokalipse AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Banned
Seen
2 mos ago
⍚ Cicero ⥥ Twenty-seven ⥥ Male ⥥ Pansexual ⍚
"The fact of storytelling hints at a fundamental human unease, hints at human imperfection. Where there is perfection there is no story to tell."
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
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Cicero is a handsome man – something he won’t let anybody forget anytime soon – though he is handsome in the most conventional way. In his appearance, there is nothing inherently unique about him. He’s tan with taut muscles, but is more so lean than muscular – his arms the most muscular part of him. Cicero is remarkably tall, standing at 6’3”, and has a bigger-than-life presence that makes him seem even taller than he is. Just like his long body, Cicero has a long slender neck with a very prominent Adam’s apple that bobs when he delves into a story. He has high cheekbones and a sharp jawbone that makes him look slightly less average than he is. His nose is slightly large with a straight bridge and rounded tip and his eyes are round and big. Cicero does not sleep much, which is evident with the purple bags under his eyes. Cicero’s lips are relatively thin and his mouth is not too wide or narrow – the only thing out of place is the scar running down the left corner from the claw of a startled dog. Cicero keeps his brown hair long, letting it just barely miss his shoulders.
When it comes to his typical clothing, Cicero tends to wear layers. Over a long, thin shirt, he would have a tunic, and over the tunic a robe. He tends to dress in browns and reds and is overly fond of needless decor such as sashes and such. His clothing is usually frayed and worse for wear since he is traveling all the time. He has made a makeshift bag out of a strip of cloth that rests on his hip and is wrapped around his shoulder. He also likes to keep a walking stick for hiking purposes, which he has carved intricate designs on. Cicero's javelins are in a holster strapped to his back.
Cicero’s curse mark is a small turquoise line that encircles his middle finger on his left hand. As the mark progresses, it spreads from one arm and branches down his torso and up his chest, gradually rolling to his middle finger on the right hand.
When it comes to his typical clothing, Cicero tends to wear layers. Over a long, thin shirt, he would have a tunic, and over the tunic a robe. He tends to dress in browns and reds and is overly fond of needless decor such as sashes and such. His clothing is usually frayed and worse for wear since he is traveling all the time. He has made a makeshift bag out of a strip of cloth that rests on his hip and is wrapped around his shoulder. He also likes to keep a walking stick for hiking purposes, which he has carved intricate designs on. Cicero's javelins are in a holster strapped to his back.
Cicero’s curse mark is a small turquoise line that encircles his middle finger on his left hand. As the mark progresses, it spreads from one arm and branches down his torso and up his chest, gradually rolling to his middle finger on the right hand.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
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Despite Cicero’s severe appearance, his personality is more light and humorous. Cicero is the type of man who despises serious topics and would much rather dwell on easier subjects. It is not because Cicero does not like talking about things that are hard to swallow; rather, Cicero cannot find it himself to care about those topics. He follows a simple philosophy that emphasizes the meaninglessness of trying to prevent disasters and horrors. Cicero is of the opinion that whatever happens happens and there’s no way a simple mortal can stop it – only the gods have such control over fate. Because of this, Cicero would much rather laugh and make others laugh in return.
Cicero spends much of his time focused on entertaining others through stories and dramatics in order to distract from the hardships everyone faces. However, his dramatic personality does not end with his storytelling. As a general rule, if Cicero tells you something, then he has exaggerated it way out of proportion – or it might not be the truth, just a silly little lie he has told for kicks. He always makes light of the mood and, if there is a serious atmosphere, will ignore it in favor of driving his jokes home. And does he love his jokes. Almost every word out of his mouth is a joke and if it’s not, then its sarcasm at his conversational partner’s expense. Cicero especially enjoys satirical jokes. With his playful and carefree attitude, Cicero tends to attract children in herds. At any given time, there will be a little anklebiter by him and Cicero works quite well with them. He is by no means a role model, though, and often encourages the little tykes to get into trouble; he might even employ them to play a little prank on someone.
When no one is looking, though, Cicero displays a thoughtful side. If he has no one to engage with, his mind tends to delve into philosophy and it can take a couple of tries to bring him from his thoughts. He likes to ponder the meaning of humanity and reasons for existence. His philosophy has made him quite the cynic; he only believes in the worst of humanity. So, instead of focusing on morals, Cicero prefers hedonism and doing what he likes, living in the beautiful grey on the moral compass.
Cicero spends much of his time focused on entertaining others through stories and dramatics in order to distract from the hardships everyone faces. However, his dramatic personality does not end with his storytelling. As a general rule, if Cicero tells you something, then he has exaggerated it way out of proportion – or it might not be the truth, just a silly little lie he has told for kicks. He always makes light of the mood and, if there is a serious atmosphere, will ignore it in favor of driving his jokes home. And does he love his jokes. Almost every word out of his mouth is a joke and if it’s not, then its sarcasm at his conversational partner’s expense. Cicero especially enjoys satirical jokes. With his playful and carefree attitude, Cicero tends to attract children in herds. At any given time, there will be a little anklebiter by him and Cicero works quite well with them. He is by no means a role model, though, and often encourages the little tykes to get into trouble; he might even employ them to play a little prank on someone.
When no one is looking, though, Cicero displays a thoughtful side. If he has no one to engage with, his mind tends to delve into philosophy and it can take a couple of tries to bring him from his thoughts. He likes to ponder the meaning of humanity and reasons for existence. His philosophy has made him quite the cynic; he only believes in the worst of humanity. So, instead of focusing on morals, Cicero prefers hedonism and doing what he likes, living in the beautiful grey on the moral compass.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
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Cicero does not remember his life before he was ten. The first memory he has is of him waking up in an icy cold river, hungry and freezing, with blood dripping from his head. Cicero has many theories of what happened, but the one he tends to stick with is that he hit his head. But, if one were to ask him, Cicero would spin an elaborate tale of how he lost his memory.
In order to survive in the wild, Cicero taught himself how to build a shelter and he got by with berries and fish. He was often lonely in the wild, so Cicero would tell stories to keep himself occupied and would talk to the animals around him. Eventually, after living two years on his own, he stumbled upon the Ursidae clan and they took him in. The Ursidae raised him until he was sixteen; he was genial enough and most enjoyed his company. Though, they often got angry at him for meddling with their children, but at the end of the day it was all in good fun. At night, they would implore Cicero to tell a story and Cicero would spin tales with complex characters and use shadow puppets on tanned skin with firelight. The children particularly liked his story about a brave warrior named Cicero that battled shadow monsters and that was how Cicero earned his name.
When he was sixteen, Cicero made the decision to leave the Ursidae clan to travel to the other clans and tell them his stories. Cicero did like the attention, and he flits quite often between the major clans and is well-known by many.
Memories Retained:
In order to survive in the wild, Cicero taught himself how to build a shelter and he got by with berries and fish. He was often lonely in the wild, so Cicero would tell stories to keep himself occupied and would talk to the animals around him. Eventually, after living two years on his own, he stumbled upon the Ursidae clan and they took him in. The Ursidae raised him until he was sixteen; he was genial enough and most enjoyed his company. Though, they often got angry at him for meddling with their children, but at the end of the day it was all in good fun. At night, they would implore Cicero to tell a story and Cicero would spin tales with complex characters and use shadow puppets on tanned skin with firelight. The children particularly liked his story about a brave warrior named Cicero that battled shadow monsters and that was how Cicero earned his name.
When he was sixteen, Cicero made the decision to leave the Ursidae clan to travel to the other clans and tell them his stories. Cicero did like the attention, and he flits quite often between the major clans and is well-known by many.
Memories Retained:
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ Mephisto ⥥ The God of Tales, Traditions, and Memory ⥥ Male ⥥ Demiromantic-demisexual ⍚
A legend is lionized lies from ludicrous lives
Twining twenties with twittering and twit
Drawing distress when drama delightfully dives
A story is much better when Mephisto tells it
Birth a boy with bravery and backbone
Nourish the newborn by needs and nipple
Scrub shortcomings so shine is shown
Humor his heart in home and hipple
Tell tales of terror to teach the tyke
Cut courage from child with care and coddle
Then parade the poltroon with pernach and pike
Thick thong from threadbare swith deathly throttle
A story is much better when Mephisto tells it
Molding a mousey murine into a mongrel
The warrior wrangles with weapons and wit
Erasing the earl executed by ensemble
A story is much better when Mephisto tells it
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
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Behold, Mephisto, God of Tales, Traditions, and Memory. He appears as a solemn god; his face is angular and sharp with his thick lips often pressed into an impassive line. Mephisto’s facial features are more exaggerated and dramatic than subtle and soft. His eyes are almost too large for his face and dark circles outline them underneath. One of his eyes is the color of murky sea water and the other is a smoldering brown. Situated underneath his large eyes, his nose tip is defined and the bridge is a slope. The skin on his face seem stretched taut against his defined cheekbones, though it is not unattractive but rather regal and aristocratic. Almost everything about him seems dignified and princely - even his soothing baritone sounds like that of a king. The only exception to this is the messy mop of black hair on his head, unruly and untamed. Mephisto is one of the attractive gods – though definitely not one of the most attractive. His appeal is not as ethereal or stunning as his fellow gods and goddesses. Mephisto is not quite as outlandish as some of the other gods, either – he could almost pass as a mere mortal. The only thing that prevents him from blending in with the others is his tall, lanky height of seven feet – his hair often brushes the leaves of trees in his full height. His neck also appears to be longer than a mortal’s, almost unnaturally so, and it is often tightly wrapped with metal strips. Mephisto’s skin is a dark tan and firelight tends to mesmerizingly reflect on him, pronouncing the delicate muscles and dips of his body. Turquoise blue markings decorate his entire body in rings and lines, a simple design that stems from his middle fingers on both hands, his big toes on his feet, and his bottom lip. The lines then branch until his body is covered with blue under his clothes.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
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⌘ Legends, fairytales, myths, and history.
⌘ Owls, elephants, and monkeys.
⌘ Hearths, campfires, shadow puppets.
⌘ Starry nights, summer nights, and times around the fire.
⌘ Walnuts, burning wood, and talking.
⌘ Dramatic and humorous.
⌘ Poetic and philosophical.
⌘ Carefree and apathetic.
⌘ Deceitful and creative.
⌘ Owls, elephants, and monkeys.
⌘ Hearths, campfires, shadow puppets.
⌘ Starry nights, summer nights, and times around the fire.
⌘ Walnuts, burning wood, and talking.
⌘ Dramatic and humorous.
⌘ Poetic and philosophical.
⌘ Carefree and apathetic.
⌘ Deceitful and creative.
[ ⍚ ] 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
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There was a lost woman in the woods. She did not know where to turn or how to get back to her darling children. Part of her wanted to give up, to lie onto the soft dirt and die in peace. However, the picture of her beautiful children in her mind’s eye kept her moving forward. As the days became months, the woman struggled to remember them – their soft eyes, smiling faces, playful personalities.
Time flowed and she became weaker. At last, she tripped and hit her head on a walnut. A walnut, of all things! As she laid there, with a slight scrape on the middle of her forehead, the woman tried to think of her children’s names. She couldn’t remember them for a long, long moment. She kept thinking of them, trying to pull the names from the tip of her tongue, and it was only when night came that she remembered. Filled with a new determination, the woman picked up the walnut and continued her search for home.
That time forth, when it came time to rest, the woman would build a campfire and talk to the walnut. Every night, she forced herself to remember every detail of her children and recounted it to the walnut. Two years passed and the walnut’s ridges became smooth from being handled so much. At a moment of frustration one night, the lost woman threw the walnut into the campfire.
In the morning, when the woman woke up, a small boy was asleep in the ashes.
She named the boy Mephisto and raised him on her search for her children. During the night, she told him stories to keep herself occupied. She taught him how to make shadow puppets dance against a cave wall and the best storytelling abilities.
They spent the rest of her life like this, telling stories and remembering. Until, one day, she couldn’t get up. Mephisto stayed by her bed side, telling her stories and tales. Mephisto told stories for a year, so enraptured in the tales he was spinning, that it was only when thunder clashed that he knew he was telling myths to a corpse.
Mephisto stood up and walked away.
Time flowed and she became weaker. At last, she tripped and hit her head on a walnut. A walnut, of all things! As she laid there, with a slight scrape on the middle of her forehead, the woman tried to think of her children’s names. She couldn’t remember them for a long, long moment. She kept thinking of them, trying to pull the names from the tip of her tongue, and it was only when night came that she remembered. Filled with a new determination, the woman picked up the walnut and continued her search for home.
That time forth, when it came time to rest, the woman would build a campfire and talk to the walnut. Every night, she forced herself to remember every detail of her children and recounted it to the walnut. Two years passed and the walnut’s ridges became smooth from being handled so much. At a moment of frustration one night, the lost woman threw the walnut into the campfire.
In the morning, when the woman woke up, a small boy was asleep in the ashes.
She named the boy Mephisto and raised him on her search for her children. During the night, she told him stories to keep herself occupied. She taught him how to make shadow puppets dance against a cave wall and the best storytelling abilities.
They spent the rest of her life like this, telling stories and remembering. Until, one day, she couldn’t get up. Mephisto stayed by her bed side, telling her stories and tales. Mephisto told stories for a year, so enraptured in the tales he was spinning, that it was only when thunder clashed that he knew he was telling myths to a corpse.
Mephisto stood up and walked away.
There is nothing crueler than taking the memory from the god of memory.
Mephisto resisted the dark gods with all the power in his body – he fought with them tooth and nail so he could retain his memory and the stories he had to tell. As he battled with them, his hatred began to grow towards them. When he could not defeat the dark gods, he attempted to run from them and disappear from their sights so he could escape such a cruel fate.
He found residence behind a waterfall, where he rested during the afternoon. However, at night, Mephisto travelled and found three animals: an owl, an elephant, and a monkey. He took the three animals to the lake in which he resided and named them Walnut, Faia, and Treeki. Mephisto blessed the three with the most powerful memories of the animal kingdoms and every night, Mephisto told his tales to them over a campfire.
Mephisto knew the dark gods would find him eventually – he scattered Walnut, Faia, and Treeki before that time could come. When they did come for him, Mephisto fought with them until he was powerless – however, he knew, that even if they took his memories from him, he would find them again.
Walnut, Faia, and Treeki went on to have children and their children had children until all monkeys, owls, and elephants had immense memories. Now, the three wise sentient animals wait behind the waterfall in a stasis, waiting for their master Mephisto to come for them so they can tell him the stories he has forgotten.
Mephisto resisted the dark gods with all the power in his body – he fought with them tooth and nail so he could retain his memory and the stories he had to tell. As he battled with them, his hatred began to grow towards them. When he could not defeat the dark gods, he attempted to run from them and disappear from their sights so he could escape such a cruel fate.
He found residence behind a waterfall, where he rested during the afternoon. However, at night, Mephisto travelled and found three animals: an owl, an elephant, and a monkey. He took the three animals to the lake in which he resided and named them Walnut, Faia, and Treeki. Mephisto blessed the three with the most powerful memories of the animal kingdoms and every night, Mephisto told his tales to them over a campfire.
Mephisto knew the dark gods would find him eventually – he scattered Walnut, Faia, and Treeki before that time could come. When they did come for him, Mephisto fought with them until he was powerless – however, he knew, that even if they took his memories from him, he would find them again.
Walnut, Faia, and Treeki went on to have children and their children had children until all monkeys, owls, and elephants had immense memories. Now, the three wise sentient animals wait behind the waterfall in a stasis, waiting for their master Mephisto to come for them so they can tell him the stories he has forgotten.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
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- Acting: From dramatics in stories, Cicero has become quite good at acting and making it believable.
- Perfect Memory: Cicero has perfect memory and can remember most details in a given moment - of course he does have his bouts of forgetfulness like everyone else.
- Woodwork: Cicero is good with his hands and his able to carve from wood and make creations from the wood. This can range from furniture to lucky totems to carry. However, Cicero mostly uses it to make puppets for storytime.
- Shelter Building: Cicero is adept at gauging his surroundings and building a satisfactory shelter in order to shield himself from the elements.
- Javelins: Javelins are his preferred weapon and Cicero can throw it with impeccable accuracy. He can also use them in close-range,
though he is considerably more clumsy when it comes to close combat. - Subtle Strength: Despite his lankiness, Cicero has a subtle strength in his body which he uses to throw his javelin and he can further use his strength for close quarters.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
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Life Force: 0/0
Ability 1: Remember Me
"To be forgotten is to be nothing. I refuse to be nothing, to be lost in a sea of destroyed memories. I will leave something to be remembered."
⌘ Monkey See, Monkey Do: When Mephisto sees someone performing a skill they have, he is able to copy their muscle memory and perform the same task. However, he cannot alter what he has learned and cannot copy something that is specific to that person such as a power. Mephisto can only copy that single action and not the entire skillset.
⌘ Owl in an Ivy Bush: Mephisto is able to leave an afterimage of a memory, working almost like an illusion, to act as a decoy or distract the enemy. It tends to confound his enemies and give him time to close in. However, the afterimage cannot do something that Mephisto has not done before in the enemy's memory and cannot interact with the real world.
⌘ An Elephant Never Forgets: Mephisto is able to store his memories in an object so he can retrieve the memories at a later time. If his memory is wiped, Mephisto may retain his memories by collecting them from such an object.
⌘ Owl in an Ivy Bush: Mephisto is able to leave an afterimage of a memory, working almost like an illusion, to act as a decoy or distract the enemy. It tends to confound his enemies and give him time to close in. However, the afterimage cannot do something that Mephisto has not done before in the enemy's memory and cannot interact with the real world.
⌘ An Elephant Never Forgets: Mephisto is able to store his memories in an object so he can retrieve the memories at a later time. If his memory is wiped, Mephisto may retain his memories by collecting them from such an object.
Ability 2: If Memory Serves...
"Memories are like clay, to be dried and kneaded and sold. I am the artist."
⌘ Sharing Is Caring: Mephisto is able to absorb the memories of others and receive the knowledge they have through them. He cannot gain knowledge from forgotten memories, but he can take knowledge from suppressed memories.
⌘ Selective Amnesia: Mephisto is able to erase the memories of another person; he can parse through and choose a single memory to lock away. The memory can be unlocked by Mephisto later on.
⌘ Take Roots: Mephisto is able to create memories and implant them into someone's mind.
This can be used to manipulate or trick someone. This is usually paired with selective amnesia to prevent contradictory memories - but sometimes he leaves contradicting memories in place in order to create doubt and confusion in the other.
⌘ Selective Amnesia: Mephisto is able to erase the memories of another person; he can parse through and choose a single memory to lock away. The memory can be unlocked by Mephisto later on.
⌘ Take Roots: Mephisto is able to create memories and implant them into someone's mind.
This can be used to manipulate or trick someone. This is usually paired with selective amnesia to prevent contradictory memories - but sometimes he leaves contradicting memories in place in order to create doubt and confusion in the other.
Ability 3: Bedtime Story
"The biggest power lies in the ability to create a story with one's own mind. You are only as strong as your imagination."
⌘ Sob Story: Mephisto is able to persuade people to do what he wants through speak. However, it is only persuasion and can be resisted by people with strong will. Since the action taken is also somewhat dependent on the character's personality (e.g. two people persuaded of something might act differently on that information) It's effectiveness would probably be on a case by case basis in terms of: less effective for a large group of people then one or two people. As well as determined by action-specific.
⌘ A Shaggy Dog Story: Mephisto is able to bring stories alive. By telling a story, he can manifest characters in real life and make them do what he wants. By telling a story, he can manifest characters in real life and make them do what he wants. How many characters he summons depends also on the types of beings he summons. For example, he could summon one young dragon, or a small collection of faeries, or a horde of newborn babies. Furthermore, the personality of these creatures and the accuracy of their depiction is dependent wholly on how well written the story itself is. A story written without great care of character will summon creatures of similar robustness. In this way, it is very difficult for a summon brought to life this way to be 100% accurate to it's cast. If a God is summoned, they do so without any of their Moderate-Strong powers, their Weak powers are in some cases lessened, and the accuracy of their personality will usually not hold up under complex scrutiny. This is due to the complex magical nature of accurately protraying gods themselves. However this summoning may be useful to temporarily confuse people, for example.
⌘ Fish Story: The ultimate illusion. Mephisto is able to trap someone in an unending illusion that will eventually result in starvation, dehydration, or exhaustion. There is no escape from it except with the cold fingers of death.
⌘ A Shaggy Dog Story: Mephisto is able to bring stories alive. By telling a story, he can manifest characters in real life and make them do what he wants. By telling a story, he can manifest characters in real life and make them do what he wants. How many characters he summons depends also on the types of beings he summons. For example, he could summon one young dragon, or a small collection of faeries, or a horde of newborn babies. Furthermore, the personality of these creatures and the accuracy of their depiction is dependent wholly on how well written the story itself is. A story written without great care of character will summon creatures of similar robustness. In this way, it is very difficult for a summon brought to life this way to be 100% accurate to it's cast. If a God is summoned, they do so without any of their Moderate-Strong powers, their Weak powers are in some cases lessened, and the accuracy of their personality will usually not hold up under complex scrutiny. This is due to the complex magical nature of accurately protraying gods themselves. However this summoning may be useful to temporarily confuse people, for example.
⌘ Fish Story: The ultimate illusion. Mephisto is able to trap someone in an unending illusion that will eventually result in starvation, dehydration, or exhaustion. There is no escape from it except with the cold fingers of death.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
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⌘ Two javelins.
⌘ Thick fur coat.
⌘ Red dyed leather clothes.
⌘ Flint.
⌘ Rope.
⌘ Three handmade puppets.
⌘ Thick fur coat.
⌘ Red dyed leather clothes.
⌘ Flint.
⌘ Rope.
⌘ Three handmade puppets.
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
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Orange: #EB8C00
Red: #BC4B4B
Red: #BC4B4B
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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RedXCross Dig, Dig, Dig...
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7 mos ago
⍚ Numas Inora ⥥ 22 ⥥ N/A ⥥ Pansexual ⍚
"But did we ever stop to ask 'Why' we are here?"
𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩
[ ⍚ ] A P P E A R A N C E
Numas stands at a subtle 5'8" and is skinny to the point of looking almost sickly. When they stretch in certain directions you can see their ribcage rippling beneath their skin and the boniness of their hands. Their eyes are a fading, almost glassy grey, and one eye is completely glassy with a sharp scar scratched right over it. They have no vision through that eye after an encounter with a vicious animal, but they pay no mind to that most of the time. Their face is scrunched up, with a small nose and small lips, and their teeth are mostly straight, though his canines seem sharper than the average. Their hair is long and obstructive as they haven't cut it since birth. It goes down their back and face in long, messy, burgundy strands. They never tie it back or anything, though sometimes they'll loop glass and wood beads through it in seemingly random locations.
Normally, they forgo wearing any sort of top clothing, though if they are to wear a tunic of some kind they tie the sleeves around their waist and leave their chest bare. Sometimes they'll wear a sash of cloth over around one of their shoulders, but that is the most that they will cover at any one time. Wooden beads and bands of numerous colours wrap around their wrists and his neck, including the feathers of birds and the teeth of some abandoned animals. They will paint his face with various red-hued colours that they make by mixing blood with water and other things, making sure that the paint goes over their eyelids.
Their mark appears almost like stained glass on the back of their hand. Various shapes of varying colours that overlap and merge with each other. As they use their abilities, more of these colours and shapes explode from the origin point until they spread up and over their entire body.
Normally, they forgo wearing any sort of top clothing, though if they are to wear a tunic of some kind they tie the sleeves around their waist and leave their chest bare. Sometimes they'll wear a sash of cloth over around one of their shoulders, but that is the most that they will cover at any one time. Wooden beads and bands of numerous colours wrap around their wrists and his neck, including the feathers of birds and the teeth of some abandoned animals. They will paint his face with various red-hued colours that they make by mixing blood with water and other things, making sure that the paint goes over their eyelids.
Their mark appears almost like stained glass on the back of their hand. Various shapes of varying colours that overlap and merge with each other. As they use their abilities, more of these colours and shapes explode from the origin point until they spread up and over their entire body.
[ ⍚ ] P E R S O N A L I T Y
Numas is an out-of-this-world thinker with little care or understanding for most of the other people that they live with. They believe that they've been trapped on this world by some external force, though they are unaware of what that force may be nor do the claim to understand what they were before. That being said, Numas comes across as obnoxious and weird. They're statements are out-of-the-box and they refuse to conform to any being that may claim authority over them. That being said, Numas is fascinated with those that ask questions, and those that are willing to question why they may exist or what they're doing in that moment. To these people, Numas is an excellent thinker, patient, and wise. They never claim to know the answers to anything, but they're always willing to ask questions. They're also quite a spiritual person, believing that their Gods would one day give them the answers they were searching for as long as they continued to question everything.
As though their own behaviour wasn't example enough, Numas is not very sexually driven. They are far more fascinated with a person's thoughts and mind than they are in their physicality, and their own castration makes them pretty non-threatening to other genders. Their choice in companions is quite unusual, but so is everything about the laid-back spiritualist.
That being said, they become very frustrated with those that claim to have all the answers. They have a tendency to run off on their own and do their own thing for long periods of time, and in these times they tend to forget about eating or sleeping. Instead, they'll paint their face and burn strange plants and sit in large empty places alone as they stare at the stars, continually asking "why". They're a little bit of a hermit, and a little more than strange, but sometimes the out-of-the-box thinking can bring many advantages to their tribe. They've been called upon as a strategist several times because they don't think about outcomes, only about things that others have never thought about. It seems that they put aside their hubris when it comes to the lives of humans specifically, because Numas believes that humans hold the potential to opening the secrets of the universe.
[ ⍚ ] B I O G R A P H Y
Numas is usually referred to by their tribe as "Severed" due to their "inability" to associate or work with the other members of the tribe in the ways of hunting, gathering, fighting, or other basic survival needs. The other reason was that Numas castrated themselves three months after both of their parents died hunting some feral beast. Many thought it was an act of grief, but Numas did not grieve their parents in a rational sense. Instead, Numas simply began to question the way the world worked, and the way they trapped themselves in boxes. Castrating themself was a way of freeing themself from the need to reproduce. Numas disappeared into the wilderness for several years after this, frustrated with the traps of daily life and the risks of normalcy. Many thought they would never see them again.
Instead, around the age of seventeen, Numas returned to their tribe. Their eye was scarred by a bear they'd eaten and their whole appearance had become wild and feral as well. Their tribe was at war when they returned, and it appeared as though they would be slaughtered. But Numas revealed an absurd strategy that managed to allow their tribe the upper hand. After this, Numas revealed their skill as a witch doctor, and used many unusual concoctions for curative purposes or otherwise. Numas was welcomed back into the tribe, against many others protests, and they were given the space to act as they chose as long as they provided wisdom to the rest of their people and acted as their healer.
Their unusual behaviour was still unnerving to the rest of their tribe. Numas would commonly wander off or simply stop and stare in random directions. One day Numas spent standing completely still in the central area of their camp, and didn't move for several hours, other days they spent eating at flowers growing around the marshes or staring into rivers waiting for fish to pass. Numas spent the first clan gathering back with their tribe wandering all over the place. They shared healing secrets with healers of other tribes; they wandered straight into the base camps of other aggressive tribes and watched their fierce warriors battle with each other.
This is how Numas came to know Narcissa. Her disinterested disposition caught Numas' eye one day, so they decided to wander directly over to speak to her. Guards tried to stop them, but Numas merely leapt over their guards, then bounced of their heads while twirling their staff above their own head. They quickly bonded because it was clear that Numas had no expectations for the Chieftain's daughter, and that Numas simply found interest in her own thoughts of physical beauty and the world around them.
Numas amassed a group of about two or three followers by the time this begins. People that were just as fascinated with the "why" of their existence and wished to question the universe just as Numas did. Numas would lead them into the wilderness and share ceremonies under the stars where they asked the gods to answer their questions, and waited patiently with strange incense that enhanced their thought process and caused "spiritual hallucinations" as Numas labelled them.
Numas comes from the Rumasra tribe, a smaller group of people that finds their proficiency in the marshlands. Most know the properties of common plants by the time they can stand, and many others learn quickly how to navigate the wet marshs without sinking or tripping. They aren't an extremely spiritually driven group, though they do believe that the nature around them is carried by spirits acting on their own. Some people will pray to these spirits before heading out on hunting or scavenging trips, and only a few others will call out to the Gods above. Otherwise their failing point as a tribe comes from combat. While they do have a general and some know how to fight, it is usually inefficient. They lack the skill or ability to fight back head-to-head, so they usually rely on their marshy terrain to get the upper hand. Most know how to swim through the rivers and how to fish. Ultimately the tribe counts on all their people being able to engage in these tasks so they can all survive together.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
Instead, around the age of seventeen, Numas returned to their tribe. Their eye was scarred by a bear they'd eaten and their whole appearance had become wild and feral as well. Their tribe was at war when they returned, and it appeared as though they would be slaughtered. But Numas revealed an absurd strategy that managed to allow their tribe the upper hand. After this, Numas revealed their skill as a witch doctor, and used many unusual concoctions for curative purposes or otherwise. Numas was welcomed back into the tribe, against many others protests, and they were given the space to act as they chose as long as they provided wisdom to the rest of their people and acted as their healer.
Their unusual behaviour was still unnerving to the rest of their tribe. Numas would commonly wander off or simply stop and stare in random directions. One day Numas spent standing completely still in the central area of their camp, and didn't move for several hours, other days they spent eating at flowers growing around the marshes or staring into rivers waiting for fish to pass. Numas spent the first clan gathering back with their tribe wandering all over the place. They shared healing secrets with healers of other tribes; they wandered straight into the base camps of other aggressive tribes and watched their fierce warriors battle with each other.
This is how Numas came to know Narcissa. Her disinterested disposition caught Numas' eye one day, so they decided to wander directly over to speak to her. Guards tried to stop them, but Numas merely leapt over their guards, then bounced of their heads while twirling their staff above their own head. They quickly bonded because it was clear that Numas had no expectations for the Chieftain's daughter, and that Numas simply found interest in her own thoughts of physical beauty and the world around them.
Numas amassed a group of about two or three followers by the time this begins. People that were just as fascinated with the "why" of their existence and wished to question the universe just as Numas did. Numas would lead them into the wilderness and share ceremonies under the stars where they asked the gods to answer their questions, and waited patiently with strange incense that enhanced their thought process and caused "spiritual hallucinations" as Numas labelled them.
Numas comes from the Rumasra tribe, a smaller group of people that finds their proficiency in the marshlands. Most know the properties of common plants by the time they can stand, and many others learn quickly how to navigate the wet marshs without sinking or tripping. They aren't an extremely spiritually driven group, though they do believe that the nature around them is carried by spirits acting on their own. Some people will pray to these spirits before heading out on hunting or scavenging trips, and only a few others will call out to the Gods above. Otherwise their failing point as a tribe comes from combat. While they do have a general and some know how to fight, it is usually inefficient. They lack the skill or ability to fight back head-to-head, so they usually rely on their marshy terrain to get the upper hand. Most know how to swim through the rivers and how to fish. Ultimately the tribe counts on all their people being able to engage in these tasks so they can all survive together.
Memories Retained: Ignore for now
𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
⍚ X Y X I S ⥥ A B S T R A C T I O N ⥥ N/A ⥥ PANSEXUAL ⍚
<... Then men's first thoughts became unbound to the how and the when and the where
For Xyxis appeared, his being renowned, and the WHY that was not was there.
Life was no longer trapped to the touch, as thought twisted and grew
Reason to fog, limits to space, it was more strange than they knew...>
[ ⍚ ] GO D L Y A P P E A R A N C E
Xyxis is not so much "seen" as they are "experienced". They are a void of colour and noise and feelings and thoughts. Bound to nothing, but they are not "nothing." Their form is omniscient and abstract, clobbered together and ever-changing. Since Xyxis finds the thought of a corporeal form abhorrent, they tend to simply exist as changing and shifting colors.
[ ⍚ ] K N O W N F O R
- Abstract Thought
- Abstract Concepts
- Insanity
- Delirium
- Lord of Drugs and Hallucinogens
- Abstract Art and Color
- Questions and Thoughts
- Philosophy
Xyxis is unique in that they would not exist without humanity, nor would humanity advance at the rate it does without Xyxis. Xyxis was birthed from thought and also is the creator of thought. They are actually quite sympathetic for humanity despite the consequences that come with their existence. Humans would go mad upon seeing Xyxis' "physical" form as it is beyond human comprehension.
[ ⍚ ] 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
The moment the question "why" was asked was the moment that Xyxis came into existence. This probably makes them sort of a young God as they could only really exist when there was a being to think. At first they were not interested in anything beyond the development of humanity's thought process. One of their favourite moments of existence was rendering a rock into an incomprehensible form and watching the early humans become baffled with how it was created (for it really couldn't be made with human hands). Their starkissed was the first being that made Xyxis consider "touch" as a connection. Usually they don't care at all for the corporeal, but, to be able to touch their starkissed's face, and understand what was beneath that hard surface...
It was this want that allowed the Dark Gods to trick them. Xyxis was a master of what could not be seen, touched, heard, understood, yet it was the desire for all those things with their starkissed that allowed the Dark Gods to trap them within the confines of a mortal body, and wipe their memory of a time they were a being of pure thought.
It was this want that allowed the Dark Gods to trick them. Xyxis was a master of what could not be seen, touched, heard, understood, yet it was the desire for all those things with their starkissed that allowed the Dark Gods to trap them within the confines of a mortal body, and wipe their memory of a time they were a being of pure thought.
𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫
[ ⍚ ] S K I L L S E T
Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.
- Natural Connection:
Numas has an excellent understanding of plants and their properties. They can recognize most plants for the various abilities and support they can offer. This is exceptionally proficient in the marshlands, though some of this knowledge does trickle over into other locations. - Witch Doctor: Beyond knowing plants well, they also know certain charms and enchantments that, when combined with other aspects of nature, can become powerful healing concoctions or other such potions and salves. This is made of a combination of their own research, their mother's time as witch doctor, and other sources.
- Interpretation:
- High Constitution: Numas' experience in the wilderness with plants have rendered them immune to many poisons and toxins. In a pinch, they can eat things that would make most other people sick or dead with a much less severe reaction.
- Slow and Painful: Their witch doctoring can work in reverse as well. They know how to concoct lethal poisons that could strike opponents down very quickly when administered.
- Wierd and Wirey: Numas tends to avoid fights whenever possible, but if they must their movements and actions are incredibly unpredictable and strange. Their flexibility and agility confuse opponents, then usually they try to strike with a poison and run away.
[ ⍚ ] A B I L I T I E S
Regardless of their human form, an explosion of color always appears behind their eyes before their powers activate.
Life Force: 15/15
Weakest Ability: Here Comes a Thought
Xyxis came into existence when humans developed Abstract Thought: of ideas beyond surviving, and when questions rose beyond "how am I going to survive?"
Who am I? Cost - 1
When Numas touches someone, they call call these questions to ring strong and true through someone's mind. For some, it may have no adverse effect. For others, it may call their position into question, or even begin an existential crisis.
Why am I here?Cost - 2
Beyond their own identity, it calls their allegiances into question, their beliefs, their choices. This may lead to isolation or paranoia in the target.
What is my purpose?
Cost - 3When Numas touches someone, they call call these questions to ring strong and true through someone's mind. For some, it may have no adverse effect. For others, it may call their position into question, or even begin an existential crisis.
Why am I here?Cost - 2
Beyond their own identity, it calls their allegiances into question, their beliefs, their choices. This may lead to isolation or paranoia in the target.
What is my purpose?
This questions their entire being. It forces them to confront what they do from day to day, to confront the position they have and the choices they make. It could bring everything they've worked for into question, then it could bring it all tumbling down. Depending on the being, this question could reveal doors they've never recognized, or force them into a mental breakdown.
Moderate Ability: Beyond Representation
The human form moves into a trance state, forcing them to create large abstract artworks that can confound and distract others.
Moment's Clarity: Cost - 6
Suddenly the human vessel understands how to express abstract ideas in a corporeal form. They'll then proceed to create it with whatever medium available. While one idea was in mind, it will create various interpretations that might cripple or support wiser people.
Read Between the Lines: Cost - 7
The art is charged with magic, bringing those that look upon it to be immersed in the work and what it is trying to say to them. Those that aren't wise enough to comprehend the artist's voice will be struck with headaches, while others will feel strongly for the idea the artist is trying to express
Open Your Minds:
Cost - 9Suddenly the human vessel understands how to express abstract ideas in a corporeal form. They'll then proceed to create it with whatever medium available. While one idea was in mind, it will create various interpretations that might cripple or support wiser people.
Read Between the Lines: Cost - 7
The art is charged with magic, bringing those that look upon it to be immersed in the work and what it is trying to say to them. Those that aren't wise enough to comprehend the artist's voice will be struck with headaches, while others will feel strongly for the idea the artist is trying to express
Open Your Minds:
The artwork is supercharged with magickal force, which brings all that look upon it to open their minds to the world beyond their own. This could be incredibly overwhleming for those that have never understood it before, though in the right groups it could spark a movement, or a revolution, or incapacitate them all with their own tears and their own questions about the universe.
Strongest Ability: Eldritch Madness
In their early days, Xyxis attempted to use abstraction to create new life. The result was horror incarnate, and ideas so strong they drove people to insanity.
"The Eldritch Abomination is a type of creature defined by its disregard for the natural laws of the universe as we understand them. They are grotesque mockeries of reality beyond comprehension whose disturbing otherness cannot be encompassed in any mortal tongue." - TVTropes
Unnerving Sculpture: Cost - 8 They create some form of artwork out of what exists that defies logic and what the mind can comprehend. Its presence is enough to unnerve people and make them uncomfortable, but looking at it long enough may actually splinter the brain.
Overwhelming Image: Cost - 11
The image is delivered directly to the brain with gibberish words, and it traps itelf within the person, driving them mad because it cannot be comprehended.
Some thing just cannot be comprehended...: Cost - D E A T H
An image is cast into the sky. A being emerges for only a few moments before fading away, but that's more than enough. Those that witness that which mocks the universe will lose all sense of rationality. The world itself will become their prison as they are swallowed by madness. There are some abstractions that simply cannot be understood.
Overwhelming Image: Cost - 11
The image is delivered directly to the brain with gibberish words, and it traps itelf within the person, driving them mad because it cannot be comprehended.
Some thing just cannot be comprehended...: Cost - D E A T H
An image is cast into the sky. A being emerges for only a few moments before fading away, but that's more than enough. Those that witness that which mocks the universe will lose all sense of rationality. The world itself will become their prison as they are swallowed by madness. There are some abstractions that simply cannot be understood.
[ ⍚ ] I N V E N T O R Y
- two sharp daggers made of weak metal. A slot down the middle of them leaves space for poison
- numerous packs and bags filled with all sorts of natural materials
- a long staff that seems to curve into a square at the end, for walking and other things
- a totem for the Gods, and some incense sticks created to induce spiritual hallucination
- a bowl for mixing, and pestle for crushing
[ ⍚ ] O T H E R
This will be my color for conversation. (code 4ECCAC)
Above the Rumasra Tribe is given some background and detail.
On top of that, their tribe does not use pronouns, choosing instead to refer to each other by name and name alone. Their chieftan is Reisa Ruma, a tough woman with a lot of patience and scavenging expertise.
To become chieftan, those of a certain age who desire the title are required to eat a specific frog that lives in the marsh area. While they're all similar-looking, some of them carry a lethal poison. They say that if that were to happen it is because you are unworthy of the title. Reisa ate four of them to prove her dedication.
[ ⍚ ] R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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