Also .. ""No, you look like a dog got drunk and mated with one of the ugliest crabs in existence," I damn near pissed myself.
Great post ^ ^ Looking forward to this one so far.
Alchemistic Member
- Last Seen: MIA
- Old Guild Username: Alchemistic
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 62 (0.02 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Alchemistic 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
It was fantastic, I love the last line. "Please. Resist if you dare." Like a medieval duke nukem line.
Also .. ""No, you look like a dog got drunk and mated with one of the ugliest crabs in existence," I damn near pissed myself.
Great post ^ ^ Looking forward to this one so far.
Also .. ""No, you look like a dog got drunk and mated with one of the ugliest crabs in existence," I damn near pissed myself.
Great post ^ ^ Looking forward to this one so far.
I didn't see any invites, so I sent you one instead.
As it is with every Fae creature, the coming of age also comes with a right of passage. Typically associated with the nature of one's own specific type of Fae creature. For those with a close affinity for nature's life, the plants and animals, are the Druidic Fae. Their rituals and ceremonies closely centering around their bond with nature, usually done out in the wilderness on a full moon. The right of passage for a Druidic Fae is in fact, quite simple. Without crossing any of the other elemental territories, that is to only be associated with nature and it's flora and fauna, the child coming of age will wander off into their affinitive domain. For an unmeasured period of time the child will wander, finding their way and learning to become more in tune with themselves, a pilgrimage of sorts. For the Druidic Fae the exchange is low risk, the only real danger comes from the wildlife and even they tend not to stray to closely to the strange and mystical beings unless compelled to do so.
The coming of age for the Aquaticus Fae is quite the contrary. So to the point that they are arguably one of the rarest form of Fae. The child of the Aquaticus must journey out into the water, until they come onto the land. Though they are not to stray into the domain out of their affinity, such as a forest or field. The water's domain lies in the ocean, and all that it touches including sandy shores and partially submerged caverns. There is always the threat of storm, predator, and fatigue. Unlike the Druidic Fae who feast and rejoice up until their journey. It should be noted that only for the time of the pilgrimage are the Fae restricted to their affinitive domains, though not by any known law. Merely by tradition and legend alone. The most common danger for a child of the Aquaticus Fae, are when they wander into the territory of man. Often the less experience fae, unskilled at moving unseen or manipulating their magical abilities, are mistaken for some form of edible sea life.
Conchae wiggles her toes in excitement, feeling them squish into the soft damp sand beneath her. Her heart hammers in her chest, letting the adrenaline course freely through her body. All her life has led up to this moment, this one particular night and each night beyond this until she returns once more. She grins at her mother and father, her four brothers and three sisters. She had heard all about the journey from her older siblings. Though their return varied greatly from each other. Virilem, her older sister and the one she trusted most, had been the shortest at five days. She wove great tales of her journey,her favorite was when Virilem went through a storm, riding the waves as if she were part of the water itself. She had spoken much of her five day journey, but she never told Conchae of that moment. The moment where your soul frees itself, and you can feel the magic flowing through you like the very blood in your veins. The moment of adulthood.
Conchae winced in pain as the woman next to her stuck her again with her long sharpened quill, before dipping it back into the ink bottle. Their clan always passed on the family markings before a journey, so that if one were to find death, they would still be able to find each other in the afterlife. She kept herself from glancing at the unfinished markings that were being drawn on her pale blue skin, though usually nearly white with an off tint of blue, being so close to the water was making the blue pigmentation more vibrant, and it would as she drew closer until she was as blue as the ocean. An intricate pattern of water lilies, connected by long twisting lines, weaving through each other and at every point they crossed a lily was drawn. Conchae winced again and tried not to make a noise, trying to act brave for her little brothers and sisters. Her mother smiled warmly, a stark contrast next to her father who seemed to be a mix of content and indifference. The woman clapped her hands and Conchae looked at her new markings, encircling her left bicep fully, and spanning maybe the width of three fingers.
There were to be no more goodbyes at this point. Her family hollered and cheered, all except her father, as she turned and slowly walked towards the water. She took a deep breath "This is it ..." she thought to herself. The moments of transition from a child of fifteen, to an adult. She reached the waters edge and felt her toes dip into the cold water as she shed off her ceremonial garments. One deep breath, no hesitation, as she sprinted forward and dove into the water. The noise of her family replaced by the rush of water, and the air bubbles as they rushed past her towards the surface. Her skin mottled before becoming wholly blue, though her hair remained the normal sky blue. She took a powerful stroke forward and swam across the ocean floor. She felt the additional clear membrane stretch out across her eyes, knowing they would be filled edge to edge black, the color of a dark abyss. This gave her the ability to see better than any land walker could underwater, almost as easy as seeing through day. Far clearer than her normal eyesight. She smiled as a torrent of feelings coursed through her. Her long lithe arms bring her parallel to a school of fish, who swam alongside her for a time before breaking off.
Any experience Aquaticus Fae would have been able to sense the approaching hurricane just a day away... and the tropical cyclone cell moving with its center..
Seven years later...
De'mari stands at the road leading up to a large banana plantation she had called home since she was brought back from the brink of death. The owns had found her lying face down on the sandy shores just a few miles away as they took a moonlit stroll, such as many older couples do. Despite mankind's superstition revolving around her particular species of Fae the couple took her in, and nursed her back to health. It was fairly obvious, from the blue tint near large bodies of water, to the occasion when De'mari would sleep weave and cause the water to float from her glass into the air. In fact, even De'mari had her suspicions, but with a lack of memory and her knowledge growing up as an Aquaticus Fae, she had nothing to base her classification of herself on, so it remained a mystery. Until now.
She bit her lower lip, holding back a string of profanities as the guard searched her for weapons, perhaps a little too thoroughly. Her adopted father was face down in the dirt after assaulting one of the guardsmen, and her adopted mother along with the field hands she had come to call family, were being held back by a group of heavily armored men. The guard seemed satisfied with his search, and with a grunt, kicked in the back of her knee sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her adopted family screamed with their outrage as the guard put his boot on the small of her back, preventing her from raising up. He takes a handful of her hair and yanks it back, forcing her head up with a cry of pain.
"De'mari Lamperouge, you are hereby being sentenced to trial by a lawful court, effective immediately. You are being accused of unlawful sorcery, assault, endangering the lives of thirty-seven people, and multiple counts of treason, including but not limited to; Gathering of secret of information, Selling of said information, Harboring and Aiding and Abetting other spies for the Nomadic Provinces of The Dunes, plotting against his Highness, sabotage, and murder of government officials. Regardless of what you say now, you are to face each of your accused crimes at trial where a ruling will be determined by an official judge from the school of law."
De'mari looks up to see a woman dressed in long flowing red robes, adorned with gold thread work. The parchment she holds out in front of her is quickly rolled up as the scholar turns on her heel with a huff and seeks refuge in an elaborate carriage, polished and painted in vibrant colors of blue and white. The guard with his boot on her lets our a shrill whistle, "Some record there, think they'll hang you?" He asked nonchalantly as he hauled her to her feet. Distantly De'mari could see her adopted father screaming at the guards, on his feet once more as they withdrew. She couldn't hear him though as her ears had gone deaf as she mulled over the accusations. The only thing she was guilty of was sorcery without a proper license, and maybe an assault of two. But none of that had any official business, especially not treason. Vaguely some part of her mind wondered if this was the doing of a work hand nicknamed Rat, a scrawny scheming man she had punched in the nose. That thought crossed nearly unnoticed in the back of her mind as she was led, trance-like, into a wagon. She was laid out spread eagle, with each of her limbs secured to a shackle attached to the wagon by very short chains.
She brushed a strand of light blue hair out of her eyes and looked at the sky. Sighing and feeling the pain on her eye where the guard had hit her with a stiff wooden baton wrapped with metal bands. And where he had hit her on the right shoulder, and probably fractured a rib. And to think she had only called him scum. She felt as if she were dreaming something awful, this couldn't really be happening... could it? Reigns cracked and the wagon began rumbling, De'mari would have been tossed to the side if not for her bindings. For the next two days she would get to watch the endless sea of blue above, with the added bonus of being spoon fed slop. It was sometime later that first day she had been arrested that she thought back to Rat, vowing to get vengeance on him regardless of his involvement in this. Though she was almost positive he had come up with it somehow.
The cart jostled again as they hit what felt like a particularly large rock. It also felt as if the driver didn't even attempt to avoid it. He let out a soft chuckle as the chains to her shacks shook as she was momentarily bounced up just enough to cause burning agony to her shoulder. She had never heard of so many crimes piled up on one person, she grit her teeth half in pain, and half in anger. The sadness welled up inside her of being torn from her family. She knew where she was headed, to the dungeons of the capital, Providence. With a list like her accusations, there was no avoiding a hanging. She could cry when she was alone, but she would not give into these guards.
Another bump in the road, probably a ditch this time and she cried out as she bounced up, the burning agony flared up into a raging inferno of pain in her shoulder. She would have to decide later if it was dislocated or broken.
The coming of age for the Aquaticus Fae is quite the contrary. So to the point that they are arguably one of the rarest form of Fae. The child of the Aquaticus must journey out into the water, until they come onto the land. Though they are not to stray into the domain out of their affinity, such as a forest or field. The water's domain lies in the ocean, and all that it touches including sandy shores and partially submerged caverns. There is always the threat of storm, predator, and fatigue. Unlike the Druidic Fae who feast and rejoice up until their journey. It should be noted that only for the time of the pilgrimage are the Fae restricted to their affinitive domains, though not by any known law. Merely by tradition and legend alone. The most common danger for a child of the Aquaticus Fae, are when they wander into the territory of man. Often the less experience fae, unskilled at moving unseen or manipulating their magical abilities, are mistaken for some form of edible sea life.
Conchae wiggles her toes in excitement, feeling them squish into the soft damp sand beneath her. Her heart hammers in her chest, letting the adrenaline course freely through her body. All her life has led up to this moment, this one particular night and each night beyond this until she returns once more. She grins at her mother and father, her four brothers and three sisters. She had heard all about the journey from her older siblings. Though their return varied greatly from each other. Virilem, her older sister and the one she trusted most, had been the shortest at five days. She wove great tales of her journey,her favorite was when Virilem went through a storm, riding the waves as if she were part of the water itself. She had spoken much of her five day journey, but she never told Conchae of that moment. The moment where your soul frees itself, and you can feel the magic flowing through you like the very blood in your veins. The moment of adulthood.
Conchae winced in pain as the woman next to her stuck her again with her long sharpened quill, before dipping it back into the ink bottle. Their clan always passed on the family markings before a journey, so that if one were to find death, they would still be able to find each other in the afterlife. She kept herself from glancing at the unfinished markings that were being drawn on her pale blue skin, though usually nearly white with an off tint of blue, being so close to the water was making the blue pigmentation more vibrant, and it would as she drew closer until she was as blue as the ocean. An intricate pattern of water lilies, connected by long twisting lines, weaving through each other and at every point they crossed a lily was drawn. Conchae winced again and tried not to make a noise, trying to act brave for her little brothers and sisters. Her mother smiled warmly, a stark contrast next to her father who seemed to be a mix of content and indifference. The woman clapped her hands and Conchae looked at her new markings, encircling her left bicep fully, and spanning maybe the width of three fingers.
There were to be no more goodbyes at this point. Her family hollered and cheered, all except her father, as she turned and slowly walked towards the water. She took a deep breath "This is it ..." she thought to herself. The moments of transition from a child of fifteen, to an adult. She reached the waters edge and felt her toes dip into the cold water as she shed off her ceremonial garments. One deep breath, no hesitation, as she sprinted forward and dove into the water. The noise of her family replaced by the rush of water, and the air bubbles as they rushed past her towards the surface. Her skin mottled before becoming wholly blue, though her hair remained the normal sky blue. She took a powerful stroke forward and swam across the ocean floor. She felt the additional clear membrane stretch out across her eyes, knowing they would be filled edge to edge black, the color of a dark abyss. This gave her the ability to see better than any land walker could underwater, almost as easy as seeing through day. Far clearer than her normal eyesight. She smiled as a torrent of feelings coursed through her. Her long lithe arms bring her parallel to a school of fish, who swam alongside her for a time before breaking off.
Any experience Aquaticus Fae would have been able to sense the approaching hurricane just a day away... and the tropical cyclone cell moving with its center..
Seven years later...
De'mari stands at the road leading up to a large banana plantation she had called home since she was brought back from the brink of death. The owns had found her lying face down on the sandy shores just a few miles away as they took a moonlit stroll, such as many older couples do. Despite mankind's superstition revolving around her particular species of Fae the couple took her in, and nursed her back to health. It was fairly obvious, from the blue tint near large bodies of water, to the occasion when De'mari would sleep weave and cause the water to float from her glass into the air. In fact, even De'mari had her suspicions, but with a lack of memory and her knowledge growing up as an Aquaticus Fae, she had nothing to base her classification of herself on, so it remained a mystery. Until now.
She bit her lower lip, holding back a string of profanities as the guard searched her for weapons, perhaps a little too thoroughly. Her adopted father was face down in the dirt after assaulting one of the guardsmen, and her adopted mother along with the field hands she had come to call family, were being held back by a group of heavily armored men. The guard seemed satisfied with his search, and with a grunt, kicked in the back of her knee sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her adopted family screamed with their outrage as the guard put his boot on the small of her back, preventing her from raising up. He takes a handful of her hair and yanks it back, forcing her head up with a cry of pain.
"De'mari Lamperouge, you are hereby being sentenced to trial by a lawful court, effective immediately. You are being accused of unlawful sorcery, assault, endangering the lives of thirty-seven people, and multiple counts of treason, including but not limited to; Gathering of secret of information, Selling of said information, Harboring and Aiding and Abetting other spies for the Nomadic Provinces of The Dunes, plotting against his Highness, sabotage, and murder of government officials. Regardless of what you say now, you are to face each of your accused crimes at trial where a ruling will be determined by an official judge from the school of law."
De'mari looks up to see a woman dressed in long flowing red robes, adorned with gold thread work. The parchment she holds out in front of her is quickly rolled up as the scholar turns on her heel with a huff and seeks refuge in an elaborate carriage, polished and painted in vibrant colors of blue and white. The guard with his boot on her lets our a shrill whistle, "Some record there, think they'll hang you?" He asked nonchalantly as he hauled her to her feet. Distantly De'mari could see her adopted father screaming at the guards, on his feet once more as they withdrew. She couldn't hear him though as her ears had gone deaf as she mulled over the accusations. The only thing she was guilty of was sorcery without a proper license, and maybe an assault of two. But none of that had any official business, especially not treason. Vaguely some part of her mind wondered if this was the doing of a work hand nicknamed Rat, a scrawny scheming man she had punched in the nose. That thought crossed nearly unnoticed in the back of her mind as she was led, trance-like, into a wagon. She was laid out spread eagle, with each of her limbs secured to a shackle attached to the wagon by very short chains.
She brushed a strand of light blue hair out of her eyes and looked at the sky. Sighing and feeling the pain on her eye where the guard had hit her with a stiff wooden baton wrapped with metal bands. And where he had hit her on the right shoulder, and probably fractured a rib. And to think she had only called him scum. She felt as if she were dreaming something awful, this couldn't really be happening... could it? Reigns cracked and the wagon began rumbling, De'mari would have been tossed to the side if not for her bindings. For the next two days she would get to watch the endless sea of blue above, with the added bonus of being spoon fed slop. It was sometime later that first day she had been arrested that she thought back to Rat, vowing to get vengeance on him regardless of his involvement in this. Though she was almost positive he had come up with it somehow.
The cart jostled again as they hit what felt like a particularly large rock. It also felt as if the driver didn't even attempt to avoid it. He let out a soft chuckle as the chains to her shacks shook as she was momentarily bounced up just enough to cause burning agony to her shoulder. She had never heard of so many crimes piled up on one person, she grit her teeth half in pain, and half in anger. The sadness welled up inside her of being torn from her family. She knew where she was headed, to the dungeons of the capital, Providence. With a list like her accusations, there was no avoiding a hanging. She could cry when she was alone, but she would not give into these guards.
Another bump in the road, probably a ditch this time and she cried out as she bounced up, the burning agony flared up into a raging inferno of pain in her shoulder. She would have to decide later if it was dislocated or broken.
Welcome! I hope you all at least managed to get through the setting with minimal loss of eyesight and or blood loss. I have a tendency to write walls of text, so if that's bothersome than I will not hold anything against you. Any Questions or Concerns about the roleplay can be asked here, anything more private about life or just a 'secret' idea can be communicated through private message. I'll be posting information here regularily to keep track of how the world is going to function, because we're going to write it together. I love to have others ideas put into the roleplay to change the scope on how I look and interact with things, keeps it different and interesting. Which is awesome, so don't be afraid to use your freedom with ideas, if it conflicts with something I have planned and haven't told you yet I'll adapt, or we can work through it. I look forward to being your gracious (and slightly evil) Host. ^_^
If you would like anything particular added to the information databases let me know and I'll pen it in ^ ^
Wanna chat? I have Steam, search "Chemical" and find the black and white photo with a purple eye. That's me ^ ^
Let's make something together :)
If you would like anything particular added to the information databases let me know and I'll pen it in ^ ^
Wanna chat? I have Steam, search "Chemical" and find the black and white photo with a purple eye. That's me ^ ^
Let's make something together :)
I will take all three of you, and it would be my pleasure to have you aboard my fantasy cruise. I'll go post the IC and write up some guidelines to give you guys an idea of how I'd like to run things, assuming you're still interested :)
Proverb of the The Shadowed Horizon , a book written, and lost, long ago.
There exists a land of peaceful unrest. The kind of unrest that comes from a struggle of survival, but only after it has been quiet for too long. The kingdoms of man were spread out across the land. Stretching from one shore, to the opposite, and controlling all that in between. It wasn't that man was necessarily greedy, although most would fool you on that point, but more of the fact of ambition to survive. To carry on after those weaker races, still stuck in the old ways. It was that man was bringing forth a new age, an age of technology. Magic would fail, but a wagon powered by forged iron, and chemical reactions would always run. So it was that man was in need to control its insatiable thirst for knowledge. And where knowledge spread, so did the advances, but with each advancement more was needed. More material, and so mankind did what was necessary.
Those of older lore, coming before man and his machines, were not run off so easily. And it was through agreement and barter, through blood and battle, that each of the older races claimed their borders and maintained the well being of their own race, very few who ventured outside the safety of like minded beings to associate with those viewed brutish and obscene in their ways. In fact, each of the dominant races seemed just fine with secluding themselves inside their own territory, and thus an easy peace fell over the land. The Elves practiced their old magic, hidden in the forests, and performed their ancestral rituals for Gaea, Mother of Nature and creator of the Elves. The Dwarves practiced their ceremonies underneath their mountains, for the All Father, their deity and creator. The Fae Folk took to the islands, as they are creatures of many needs and wants, where they danced and sung the songs of the sisters Andraste and Aine, Goddesses of the Dawn and Moon respectively.
But it was man who cast away their gods, delving into a new age with such abandon that their god remained all but forgotten. And his power waned as they forgot his name, as the praise and worship stopped. For Animus, the god of spirit and will, was the fifth on a great seal. A collaboration of all five of the deities, for with great creation comes destruction. And as they formed their creatures, their followers, so did they give life unknowingly, creating what we would later call demons. For creation also breeds waste, and that discarded miasma of waste formed together into a demon who would later call himself Osiris, as he rose to power in a land born opposite of world of man and fae. As the gods create, their power backlashes and comes together in tainted, evil ways. The world of oblivion is a reflection of the world of man and fae, born and fed by the evil in the hearts of every creature.
With the fifth part of the pentacle seal failing, it was all the four more powerful deities could do to hold back the tide of shadows, the hordes of demons. Eventually the demons would slip through, little by little, squeezing through a hole until it became large enough, until the plane of oblivion spilled out into the world. The distant races too far gone in their own seclusion, the technology of man nearly useless against a horde of monsters seen only in nightmares. The first recorded sighting of the demons was in 2915, of the Second Cycle. The war only raged on for two years, and everyday was a struggle to survive. After the first few months, the blight struck farms, wilting crops and sickening animals. Then the darkness, a sickness that infected the races, ever so distant from from each other. Symptoms included fever, insomnia, black spotting on the skin, blindness, uncontrollable rage, and ultimately: Death. In the end, everyone has their own valiant tale of how the war ended, but in truth, it was a combination of knowledge and collaboration between what little of the world's races survived. Advanced Dwarven Metallurgy, Elvish Magic, and The last Mankind's Technology combined together to create The Angel's Fist, a weapon of immense power. In fact, it was a big, magical cannon, the force of which tore a massive trench up the middle of the continent, the blue white beam of light smashing into the gateway the demon hordes used to crossover. The force of just emitting the beam sent the cannon tearing through the city behind it, and into the ocean where it is assumed it broke apart. Even though the war had technically ended, the next few years would remain just as difficult with plague, disease, and the loss of great libraries of knowledge, and the few remaining bands of demons, all of which lead into a worldwide dark age.
Year 3415, of the third cycle: The war comes again. Approximately five hundred years from the last Repelling, the title associated with the war itself, because evil can never truly be killed. The races of the world have learned their lesson, and now mingle within each others society. Having nearly been brought to extinction by their seclusion, a world council has formed, and every three years a delegate is elected to head the council. Brought back from the edge of extinction, man now leads a simpler life alongside the other races. Having lost all their advances, their texts on science, their schematics, are nothing but relics of an older, advanced world. Where man once held a barrel that fired shaped metal darts, the same hands now wielded swords and shields, and magic. Just as the other races. Though that was not to say there were not those who wished to relearned the secrets of the ancients, to uncover the lost technology before the Repelling.
It is barely a week from elections when the first fiend is sighted. It's leathery red hide, covered sparsely in pointed quills scampering off with a small child, stolen from a cattle farmer. All over the continent small sightings were surfacing, though only as rumors. As man has still forgotten their god, Animus, and the seal once again weakens, the fiends of oblivion once again look for their passage into the world of man and fae, to feast once more. Five hundred years passes quickly, and lessons are easily forgotten and replaced by peace, however uneasy.
In fact, to the east lies the great deserts of the human nomads, a band of people who left during the first Repelling, seeking refuge in the hostile ocean of sand and rock. Though unbeknownst to most of the world , the nomads were settling down and founding settlements, creating a system to govern their people. And becoming unhappy with their endless sea of sand, their barren plains of dead trees. Jealous of those on the other side of the World's Edge, a chain of mountain effectively separating the deserts and the lush greener lands adjacent. In the last couple hundred years the nomads numbers have grown, and with the other races on the same par as themselves with magic and sword, perhaps the time has come to reap some of the better lands for themselves. The men of the desert prepare for war, the kingdom of man, closest to the nomads, remains uneasy, quietly preparing their negotiations to avoid conflict.
Peace, is never really peaceful, is it?
World Outline:
Mankind resides on the eastern side of the "green" lands, also having claim to maintaining the largest borders for their ever increasing population.
The Elvish have spent many days with their magic to thicken the forests of the west, many of which were barren after the Repelling. Hidden and hard to find unless they deem it appropriate.
The Dwarves have burrowed up north, underneath a great mountain they call Forge, location in the middle of a collection of other mountains. Their passes and travel routes remain a mystery and dangerous to most.
The Fae are about the rarest of races, in all of their brands, they have claim to a small chain of islands south of the shores of man and elf. Most of their larger islands having sunk into the ocean when the Repelling came about.
So.. Magic obviously. The technology for the most basic of guns and cannons have been lost. It's back to the day of the sword and spell. You pretty much have free roam in my world, I want this to a world we build together, the only things I want left in my control are those mentioned here, The Repelling, The War, and The Election. Though that's not to say you can't have altercations with the nomads or demons. I pretty much just have basic expectations. You must have seen the [Advanced] tag, so, that's what it is. Though I'm not hardcore advanced. So here's what I expect.
-Average more than two paragraphs. Occasionally it can be difficult to get a lengthy post up, given circumstance or perhaps personal health. (example: A fight scene) Just give me substance, and less fill.
-Grammar is not a huge issue, but that doesn't mean it can be disregarded so easily. I misspell things here and there: Occasionally i'll forgot an "s" on the end of a word, or put teh instead of the. It happens. Re-reading and Google are my best friends.
- Romance, I actually do enjoy a bit of romance but this is no smut. If it actually comes to that we'll have to provide a fade-to-black or something. This is not going to be romance focused, but it can happen.
-Frequency, I can usually get on every night, and can be a little impatient. But that's not to say I'm unreasonable.
-Ability to play multiple characters. This is a must, as the setting I'll outline below will give you an idea why.
The Setting: The nomads have their spies, and right now that's a big deal to the Council, even if they are keeping it pretty hush-hush. Our characters have been accused of treason, though what exactly we've not been told. Some how we're both going to end up in a jail cell together, with a third character (that I will play) and go from there. Basically afterwards we're going to be outcasts, our skin too light to pass as a nomad, and wanted by the Council for treason. Eventually we're going to become a rebellion, and that's all I'll tell you for now :)
I will accept character sheets, but there is no need for them. I feel that being in advanced every here should know the limitations of being Over Powered, and should have the ability to adequately describe their character(s) within a few posts.
You can communicate with me on Steam ^ ^ - AlchemisticVeil
The very first post
I originally intended this to be a 1x1, but I was thinking it could be equally, if not more, fun in a small group. I'm thinking 3-4 players at most.
Bump, still open.
Also Updated the Int. Check with a link to the Very first post, so you can kind of know what to expect from me.
Link is at the very bottom, that particular IC is no longer in session.
Also Updated the Int. Check with a link to the Very first post, so you can kind of know what to expect from me.
Link is at the very bottom, that particular IC is no longer in session.
The five main races are: Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Fae, and the Nomads (Also Human).
Everything else is low-population and rare. So pretty much you can be Whatever your heart desires, literally. Just try to keep the godliness low :)
Everything else is low-population and rare. So pretty much you can be Whatever your heart desires, literally. Just try to keep the godliness low :)
As it is with every Fae creature, the coming of age also comes with a right of passage. Typically associated with the nature of one's own specific type of Fae creature. For those with a close affinity for nature's life, the plants and animals, are the Druidic Fae. Their rituals and ceremonies closely centering around their bond with nature, usually done out in the wilderness on a full moon. The right of passage for a Druidic Fae is in fact, quite simple. Without crossing any of the other elemental territories, that is to only be associated with nature and it's flora and fauna, the child coming of age will wander off into their affinitive domain. For an unmeasured period of time the child will wander, finding their way and learning to become more in tune with themselves, a pilgrimage of sorts. For the Druidic Fae the exchange is low risk, the only real danger comes from the wildlife and even they tend not to stray to closely to the strange and mystical beings unless compelled to do so.
The coming of age for the Aquaticus Fae is quite the contrary. So to the point that they are arguably one of the rarest form of Fae. The child of the Aquaticus must journey out into the water, until they come onto the land. Though they are not to stray into the domain out of their affinity, such as a forest or field. The water's domain lies in the ocean, and all that it touches including sandy shores and partially submerged caverns. There is always the threat of storm, predator, and fatigue. Unlike the Druidic Fae who feast and rejoice up until their journey. It should be noted that only for the time of the pilgrimage are the Fae restricted to their affinitive domains, though not by any known law. Merely by tradition and legend alone. The most common danger for a child of the Aquaticus Fae, are when they wander into the territory of man. Often the less experience fae, unskilled at moving unseen or manipulating their magical abilities, are mistaken for some form of edible sea life.
Conchae wiggles her toes in excitement, feeling them squish into the soft damp sand beneath her. Her heart hammers in her chest, letting the adrenaline course freely through her body. All her life has led up to this moment, this one particular night and each night beyond this until she returns once more. She grins at her mother and father, her four brothers and three sisters. She had heard all about the journey from her older siblings. Though their return varied greatly from each other. Virilem, her older sister and the one she trusted most, had been the shortest at five days. She wove great tales of her journey,her favorite was when Virilem went through a storm, riding the waves as if she were part of the water itself. She had spoken much of her five day journey, but she never told Conchae of that moment. The moment where your soul frees itself, and you can feel the magic flowing through you like the very blood in your veins. The moment of adulthood.
Conchae winced in pain as the woman next to her stuck her again with her long sharpened quill, before dipping it back into the ink bottle. Their clan always passed on the family markings before a journey, so that if one were to find death, they would still be able to find each other in the afterlife. She kept herself from glancing at the unfinished markings that were being drawn on her pale blue skin, though usually nearly white with an off tint of blue, being so close to the water was making the blue pigmentation more vibrant, and it would as she drew closer until she was as blue as the ocean. An intricate pattern of water lilies, connected by long twisting lines, weaving through each other and at every point they crossed a lily was drawn. Conchae winced again and tried not to make a noise, trying to act brave for her little brothers and sisters. Her mother smiled warmly, a stark contrast next to her father who seemed to be a mix of content and indifference. The woman clapped her hands and Conchae looked at her new markings, encircling her left bicep fully, and spanning maybe the width of three fingers.
There were to be no more goodbyes at this point. Her family hollered and cheered, all except her father, as she turned and slowly walked towards the water. She took a deep breath "This is it ..." she thought to herself. The moments of transition from a child of fifteen, to an adult. She reached the waters edge and felt her toes dip into the cold water as she shed off her ceremonial garments. One deep breath, no hesitation, as she sprinted forward and dove into the water. The noise of her family replaced by the rush of water, and the air bubbles as they rushed past her towards the surface. Her skin mottled before becoming wholly blue, though her hair remained the normal sky blue. She took a powerful stroke forward and swam across the ocean floor. She felt the additional clear membrane stretch out across her eyes, knowing they would be filled edge to edge black, the color of a dark abyss. This gave her the ability to see better than any land walker could underwater, almost as easy as seeing through day. Far clearer than her normal eyesight. She smiled as a torrent of feelings coursed through her. Her long lithe arms bring her parallel to a school of fish, who swam alongside her for a time before breaking off.
Any experience Aquaticus Fae would have been able to sense the approaching hurricane just a day away... and the tropical cyclone cell moving with its center..
Seven years later...
De'mari stands at the road leading up to a large banana plantation she had called home since she was brought back from the brink of death. The owns had found her lying face down on the sandy shores just a few miles away as they took a moonlit stroll, such as many older couples do. Despite mankind's superstition revolving around her particular species of Fae the couple took her in, and nursed her back to health. It was fairly obvious, from the blue tint near large bodies of water, to the occasion when De'mari would sleep weave and cause the water to float from her glass into the air. In fact, even De'mari had her suspicions, but with a lack of memory and her knowledge growing up as an Aquaticus Fae, she had nothing to base her classification of herself on, so it remained a mystery. Until now.
She bit her lower lip, holding back a string of profanities as the guard searched her for weapons, perhaps a little too thoroughly. Her adopted father was face down in the dirt after assaulting one of the guardsmen, and her adopted mother along with the field hands she had come to call family, were being held back by a group of heavily armored men. The guard seemed satisfied with his search, and with a grunt, kicked in the back of her knee sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her adopted family screamed with their outrage as the guard put his boot on the small of her back, preventing her from raising up. He takes a handful of her hair and yanks it back, forcing her head up with a cry of pain.
"De'mari Lamperouge, you are hereby being sentenced to trial by a lawful court, effective immediately. You are being accused of unlawful sorcery, assault, endangering the lives of thirty-seven people, and multiple counts of treason, including but not limited to; Gathering of secret of information, Selling of said information, Harboring and Aiding and Abetting other spies for the Nomadic Provinces of The Dunes, plotting against his Highness, sabotage, and murder of government officials. Regardless of what you say now, you are to face each of your accused crimes at trial where a ruling will be determined by an official judge from the school of law."
De'mari looks up to see a woman dressed in long flowing red robes, adorned with gold thread work. The parchment she holds out in front of her is quickly rolled up as the scholar turns on her heel with a huff and seeks refuge in an elaborate carriage, polished and painted in vibrant colors of blue and white. The guard with his boot on her lets our a shrill whistle, "Some record there, think they'll hang you?" He asked nonchalantly as he hauled her to her feet. Distantly De'mari could see her adopted father screaming at the guards, on his feet once more as they withdrew. She couldn't hear him though as her ears had gone deaf as she mulled over the accusations. The only thing she was guilty of was sorcery without a proper license, and maybe an assault of two. But none of that had any official business, especially not treason. Vaguely some part of her mind wondered if this was the doing of a work hand nicknamed Rat, a scrawny scheming man she had punched in the nose. That thought crossed nearly unnoticed in the back of her mind as she was led, trance-like, into a wagon. She was laid out spread eagle, with each of her limbs secured to a shackle attached to the wagon by very short chains.
She brushed a strand of light blue hair out of her eyes and looked at the sky. Sighing and feeling the pain on her eye where the guard had hit her with a stiff wooden baton wrapped with metal bands. And where he had hit her on the right shoulder, and probably fractured a rib. And to think she had only called him scum. She felt as if she were dreaming something awful, this couldn't really be happening... could it? Reigns cracked and the wagon began rumbling, De'mari would have been tossed to the side if not for her bindings. For the next two days she would get to watch the endless sea of blue above, with the added bonus of being spoon fed slop. It was sometime later that first day she had been arrested that she thought back to Rat, vowing to get vengeance on him regardless of his involvement in this. Though she was almost positive he had come up with it somehow.
The cart jostled again as they hit what felt like a particularly large rock. It also felt as if the driver didn't even attempt to avoid it. He let out a soft chuckle as the chains to her shacks shook as she was momentarily bounced up just enough to cause burning agony to her shoulder. She had never heard of so many crimes piled up on one person, she grit her teeth half in pain, and half in anger. The sadness welled up inside her of being torn from her family. She knew where she was headed, to the dungeons of the capital, Providence. With a list like her accusations, there was no avoiding a hanging. She could cry when she was alone, but she would not give into these guards.
Another bump in the road, probably a ditch this time and she cried out as she bounced up, the burning agony flared up into a raging inferno of pain in her shoulder. She would have to decide later if it was dislocated or broken.
The coming of age for the Aquaticus Fae is quite the contrary. So to the point that they are arguably one of the rarest form of Fae. The child of the Aquaticus must journey out into the water, until they come onto the land. Though they are not to stray into the domain out of their affinity, such as a forest or field. The water's domain lies in the ocean, and all that it touches including sandy shores and partially submerged caverns. There is always the threat of storm, predator, and fatigue. Unlike the Druidic Fae who feast and rejoice up until their journey. It should be noted that only for the time of the pilgrimage are the Fae restricted to their affinitive domains, though not by any known law. Merely by tradition and legend alone. The most common danger for a child of the Aquaticus Fae, are when they wander into the territory of man. Often the less experience fae, unskilled at moving unseen or manipulating their magical abilities, are mistaken for some form of edible sea life.
Conchae wiggles her toes in excitement, feeling them squish into the soft damp sand beneath her. Her heart hammers in her chest, letting the adrenaline course freely through her body. All her life has led up to this moment, this one particular night and each night beyond this until she returns once more. She grins at her mother and father, her four brothers and three sisters. She had heard all about the journey from her older siblings. Though their return varied greatly from each other. Virilem, her older sister and the one she trusted most, had been the shortest at five days. She wove great tales of her journey,her favorite was when Virilem went through a storm, riding the waves as if she were part of the water itself. She had spoken much of her five day journey, but she never told Conchae of that moment. The moment where your soul frees itself, and you can feel the magic flowing through you like the very blood in your veins. The moment of adulthood.
Conchae winced in pain as the woman next to her stuck her again with her long sharpened quill, before dipping it back into the ink bottle. Their clan always passed on the family markings before a journey, so that if one were to find death, they would still be able to find each other in the afterlife. She kept herself from glancing at the unfinished markings that were being drawn on her pale blue skin, though usually nearly white with an off tint of blue, being so close to the water was making the blue pigmentation more vibrant, and it would as she drew closer until she was as blue as the ocean. An intricate pattern of water lilies, connected by long twisting lines, weaving through each other and at every point they crossed a lily was drawn. Conchae winced again and tried not to make a noise, trying to act brave for her little brothers and sisters. Her mother smiled warmly, a stark contrast next to her father who seemed to be a mix of content and indifference. The woman clapped her hands and Conchae looked at her new markings, encircling her left bicep fully, and spanning maybe the width of three fingers.
There were to be no more goodbyes at this point. Her family hollered and cheered, all except her father, as she turned and slowly walked towards the water. She took a deep breath "This is it ..." she thought to herself. The moments of transition from a child of fifteen, to an adult. She reached the waters edge and felt her toes dip into the cold water as she shed off her ceremonial garments. One deep breath, no hesitation, as she sprinted forward and dove into the water. The noise of her family replaced by the rush of water, and the air bubbles as they rushed past her towards the surface. Her skin mottled before becoming wholly blue, though her hair remained the normal sky blue. She took a powerful stroke forward and swam across the ocean floor. She felt the additional clear membrane stretch out across her eyes, knowing they would be filled edge to edge black, the color of a dark abyss. This gave her the ability to see better than any land walker could underwater, almost as easy as seeing through day. Far clearer than her normal eyesight. She smiled as a torrent of feelings coursed through her. Her long lithe arms bring her parallel to a school of fish, who swam alongside her for a time before breaking off.
Any experience Aquaticus Fae would have been able to sense the approaching hurricane just a day away... and the tropical cyclone cell moving with its center..
Seven years later...
De'mari stands at the road leading up to a large banana plantation she had called home since she was brought back from the brink of death. The owns had found her lying face down on the sandy shores just a few miles away as they took a moonlit stroll, such as many older couples do. Despite mankind's superstition revolving around her particular species of Fae the couple took her in, and nursed her back to health. It was fairly obvious, from the blue tint near large bodies of water, to the occasion when De'mari would sleep weave and cause the water to float from her glass into the air. In fact, even De'mari had her suspicions, but with a lack of memory and her knowledge growing up as an Aquaticus Fae, she had nothing to base her classification of herself on, so it remained a mystery. Until now.
She bit her lower lip, holding back a string of profanities as the guard searched her for weapons, perhaps a little too thoroughly. Her adopted father was face down in the dirt after assaulting one of the guardsmen, and her adopted mother along with the field hands she had come to call family, were being held back by a group of heavily armored men. The guard seemed satisfied with his search, and with a grunt, kicked in the back of her knee sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her adopted family screamed with their outrage as the guard put his boot on the small of her back, preventing her from raising up. He takes a handful of her hair and yanks it back, forcing her head up with a cry of pain.
"De'mari Lamperouge, you are hereby being sentenced to trial by a lawful court, effective immediately. You are being accused of unlawful sorcery, assault, endangering the lives of thirty-seven people, and multiple counts of treason, including but not limited to; Gathering of secret of information, Selling of said information, Harboring and Aiding and Abetting other spies for the Nomadic Provinces of The Dunes, plotting against his Highness, sabotage, and murder of government officials. Regardless of what you say now, you are to face each of your accused crimes at trial where a ruling will be determined by an official judge from the school of law."
De'mari looks up to see a woman dressed in long flowing red robes, adorned with gold thread work. The parchment she holds out in front of her is quickly rolled up as the scholar turns on her heel with a huff and seeks refuge in an elaborate carriage, polished and painted in vibrant colors of blue and white. The guard with his boot on her lets our a shrill whistle, "Some record there, think they'll hang you?" He asked nonchalantly as he hauled her to her feet. Distantly De'mari could see her adopted father screaming at the guards, on his feet once more as they withdrew. She couldn't hear him though as her ears had gone deaf as she mulled over the accusations. The only thing she was guilty of was sorcery without a proper license, and maybe an assault of two. But none of that had any official business, especially not treason. Vaguely some part of her mind wondered if this was the doing of a work hand nicknamed Rat, a scrawny scheming man she had punched in the nose. That thought crossed nearly unnoticed in the back of her mind as she was led, trance-like, into a wagon. She was laid out spread eagle, with each of her limbs secured to a shackle attached to the wagon by very short chains.
She brushed a strand of light blue hair out of her eyes and looked at the sky. Sighing and feeling the pain on her eye where the guard had hit her with a stiff wooden baton wrapped with metal bands. And where he had hit her on the right shoulder, and probably fractured a rib. And to think she had only called him scum. She felt as if she were dreaming something awful, this couldn't really be happening... could it? Reigns cracked and the wagon began rumbling, De'mari would have been tossed to the side if not for her bindings. For the next two days she would get to watch the endless sea of blue above, with the added bonus of being spoon fed slop. It was sometime later that first day she had been arrested that she thought back to Rat, vowing to get vengeance on him regardless of his involvement in this. Though she was almost positive he had come up with it somehow.
The cart jostled again as they hit what felt like a particularly large rock. It also felt as if the driver didn't even attempt to avoid it. He let out a soft chuckle as the chains to her shacks shook as she was momentarily bounced up just enough to cause burning agony to her shoulder. She had never heard of so many crimes piled up on one person, she grit her teeth half in pain, and half in anger. The sadness welled up inside her of being torn from her family. She knew where she was headed, to the dungeons of the capital, Providence. With a list like her accusations, there was no avoiding a hanging. She could cry when she was alone, but she would not give into these guards.
Another bump in the road, probably a ditch this time and she cried out as she bounced up, the burning agony flared up into a raging inferno of pain in her shoulder. She would have to decide later if it was dislocated or broken.
Hurray rp!
© 2007-2024