AmazinglyVivid

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

Yay, another well disciplined former soldier from a military family. :P I can't decide whether our character's similiarities would have caused conflict, or them to mesh better together.

Also, I just realized that, since Gowia only posted Swedish and German for his character's known languages, there is a language barrier separating his and mine. Everyone else has at least one language in common, I believe. That certainly adds an interesting twist on that their past relationship was.

Speaking of, since all of the characters worked together for so long, would anyone like to establish what their relationship with mine was? Because the reunion will be much different for, say, former best friends and former rivals and whatnot.

Animorphs

Terminal, Ali, how is y'all's collab going? :)

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

Danko said
Your character looks good to me AmazinglyVivid, I just wanted to clarify. Was the slave who was derogatory to your character supposed to be Wolfgang or was that a different person? It wasn't 100% clear. I did notice a few grammar mistakes but those are easily fixed and don't detract from what I think is an interesting character. I'm likely not going to be active on here for the rest of the day so if I don't reply for a while don't think I'm ignoring you. I'm going to start work on an intro post soon and I'll compile everyone's characters into the original post next to my own. After that we can get this game rolling.

I intentionally left it vague, because I was unsure if that event would prevent the later formation of their friendship. If you're fine with it being him, than it is, haha. I'll be editing the grammar mistakes as soon as I get home today.

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

Here it is, then! I hope it's fine. Let me know if there are any noticeable contradictions against our established canon, and please forgive me any spelling/grammar mistakes you happen to find, as I am quite tired at the moment. I'll be giving it a read over tomorrow so I can properly edit it.

Valeria Aparecida Oliveira de Azevido

Name: Valéria Aparecida Oliveira de Azevido

Nickname: 'Primeiro-Sargento Azevido' to the Brazilian military before she started piracy, just 'Azevido' now. She was known 'O Sombra' to the citizens of Brazil, South America, and quite a few opposing pilots, before her identity was discovered by the press. She was 'Valéria,' 'Val,' or 'Ria' to the Wolves of the Mediterranean, 'Ria' to younger members of her family, and 'Valéria Aparecida' to older members. 'Our Lady of the Wolves' (Nossa Senhora dos Lobos in her home country) or just 'Our Lady' (Nossa Senhora) for short popped up as a nickname for her because of her heritage, her shared name with the Our Lady of Aparecida statue, and the painting of the statue she had done on the side of her plane next to a wolf silhouette. She has gone by 'Olivia Zeivido' ever since the Wolves split up.

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Nationality: Brazilian

Appearance:

(Notable exceptions to the picture are that her skin is darker, her clothing is more appropriate to the period, and that she has multiple scars as markers of her military past)

Skills:
Valéria received training in various areas of combat and survival; first from her father, and then from the military. She is quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Her style is similar to boxing in that it emphasizes absorbing blows and throwing hard hits over avoiding blows and making quick attacks. As for languages, she speaks Portuguese, great Spanish, decent English, and conversational Italian. She can use guns up close, though her specialty is sniping. She is an excellent sniper, and has only improved in the recent years. Her most notable talent, though, is her flying. It is not an exaggeration to call her one of the best pilots alive. She has excellent instincts, reaction time, and aim. The biggest downfall to her distinct fighting style, though, is that it can be predictable. She tends to be more conservative, not risking unless she is sure the reward will be there. She will avoid taking on enemies head on, and always try to sustain as little damage as possible.

Traits and Quirks:
Valéria is a military woman, and that shows through even to this day. She is disciplined and practical, and cares little for personal appearance or socializing. Because she doesn't like talking much, she has always gotten a reputation for being cold. And, to be honest, she prefers it that way; it's a lot more preferable to people know the truth, that she mostly doesn't socialize because she's just not good at it. When she tries to make nice with people, she always gets flustered. It's easier for her to be blunt when she needs to speak and quiet the rest of the time. She also does not like for people to think of her as being anything but confident, or as caring too much. She does not express regret over past actions, rarely apologizes, and acts as though her own interests are the only ones that matter to her. In the first run with the Wolves, she made more than one comment about leaving them behind if things got too dicey, and other things that were really just unnecessary. It is clear to those who made the effort to know her, though, that such comments do not reflect her true feelings and are simply her way.

One thing that has caused genuine conflict, though, is that she was always just a bit more brutal than most of her teammates. She'd always advocate killing a man over letting him go free and possibly coming back to inconvenience them in some way. Though she helped to free the slaves along with everyone else, she admits that she has no problem with slavery where the slaves in question are criminals or otherwise unsavory characters.

History:
Valéria is the third child of the retired Colonel Geraldo de Azevido and his wife, notable businesswoman Josepha Maria de Azevido (nee Oliveira). Her father's line was a long line of military men, and her mother's, of traders of slaves and various goods slave labor provides. Their family resided in São Paulo, in a large white home near the edge of town that Valéria still remembers with much fondness. Not long after she was born a military coup overthrew their monarchy and, with the secret aid of Portugal, took control of the country. Her father was part of this coup, and found himself in control of their city and the land surrounding it. This influence also gave Josepha the ability to truly expand the business left to her as her father's only child.

Valéria grew up with a total of six siblings; one older brother, a younger twin, two other younger brothers, and two younger sisters. Her oldest brother is Geraldo Olivera de Azevido, six years her senior. Despite their shared name, Geraldo Olivera had next to nothing in common with their father. As the oldest son of a military family it was only natural to expect him to enlist, but the young man never wanted anything to do with war. He loved the beautiful things in life, art and music. He and his father could scarcely stay in the same room without fighting. After so much time spent trying and failing to train his eldest to follow in his footsteps, Valéria and her twin, Marcelino.

The two twins were very much alike in appearance, interests, and abilities. Their main difference was their temperaments; Where Valéria kept her cool head even as a child, Marcelino's hotheadedness was notorious. As they got older their forward thinking father began to train the both of them in the skills that their older brother couldn't be bothered with, like hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, various miscellaneous survival skills, and, when circumstances allowed it, flight. Though they were very, very close as children, a rivalry began to spring up as the increasingly angry Marcelino found that, no matter how prodigious he was in a given area, his sister was always one step ahead of them.

Of course, no matter how they would have preferred it otherwise, the lives of the twins did not revolve completely around training for military lives. It was their mother primarily who ensured that they had tutors who taught them languages, history, math, and sciences; it was generally only the latter two that stuck with Valéria. Their mother taught her the ins and outs of the family business, though it became clear that neither would be an ideal choice for inheriting it. That was just fine with Valéria; she dreaded the idea of sitting around all day, making trading contracts and balancing accounts. Additionally, though she grew up having no problem with her family owning slaves -her mother always justified it with the fact that the slaves received better treatment from them than they would from most, and with various instances of slavery in the bible- the idea of being the one who actively bought and sold the slaves left an oddly sour feeling in her stomach.

Valéria would gain a total of four more siblings as she grew up into a young woman. When she was four, Maria was born. Young Maria was very book smart even as a child, and her only two desires were to grow up to have a family and to contribute to her own family's fortune. Two years after Maria came Luiz, who looked up to Valéria and Marcelino with everything he was and desired to join the military as they did. A year after him came António, who would eventually serve two years in the military before pursuing his true dream of furthering his education, in the hopes of one day running their family's business with Maria. Finally, three years later, Adélia was born. She grew up with six very protective siblings, and always had an excellent mind for science.

When Valéria and Marcelino turned sixteen, they were both able to enlist in the army. Both aspired to be pilots; though the Brazilian Airforce would not be established until a little more than a decade later, there were still flight opportunities. Marcelino was able to serve on the front lines. Despite having better flying skills than her brother -and the rest of the Brazilian military, for that matter- Valéria was relegated to the Women's Auxiliary Transportation Squadron, one of three all-female groups in their military at the time. Valéria and her fellow pilots flew plans to where they would be deployed from for actual combat situations, and flew foot soldiers to the front lines, freeing up male pilots for air fights.

It frustrated Valéria very much to feel as though her skills were being wasted. But she was raised to be dutiful and to never, ever allow her emotions to get in the way, lest men forever file her away as another hysterical woman. Valéria gained what honors and rank she could, while Marcelino did the same. Though they still loved each other, the older twin always made thinly veiled quips on how he was now considered the superior of the two. Ironically enough, it was actually during a recreational flight in the presence of one of brother's friends and superiors that her skill was truly noticed. At the age of nineteen Valéria was sent for by the general who would become Marshal of the Air when the Air Force became an official branch of the Brazilian military. He, at least, recognized her ability to get even the most difficult of jobs done, and her drive to do it well.

It was originally only going to be a one time thing. In the dead of night, she'd fly out in an unmarked aircraft. The need to know basis of the mission was very strict and of her identity, even stricter. She was to take out an enemy pilot who was almost singlehandedly ravaging several ports, just out of the range of anti-aircraft guns. Though this pilot was extremely talented, Valéria was better. He spent the better part of an hour evading her, but she eventually got him into the range of the guns. After the mission's success, she was sent out on 'just one more' mission. Over the course of two years, she went on several dozen of these 'just one more' missions. She became a hit with the domestic war press, gaining the moniker O Sombra, because all anyone saw of her was the shadow left by her plane. Her identity remained a secret. What few higher-ups were in the know of her identity refused to make any official comment on her. When not conducting these secret missions, she continued her work with the Women's Auxiliary, eventually attaining the rank of First Sergeant.

After having taken down more than thirty extremely talented pilots of varying nationalities, Valéria was finally shot out of the sky by one of the very few enemy pilots who was more skilled than she. She was recovered by Portuguese forces having sustained minimal injuries, but the cat was out of the veritable bag. The media and foreign militaries alike got wind that O Sombra, their secret weapon for all flight missions, was a woman. Desperate to save face, the higher-ups came up with a cover up story; the actual O Sombra was Marcelino. Valéria had only been transporting his plane, and decided to go against orders and get involved in that one battle. Because of her true service, she did not receive a demotion in rank or pay. However, for the sake of the press, she was relocated to guarding an isolated gold mine.

These events caused a huge rift in their family. Her father knew the truth from the beginning, because the general who'd appointed Valéria was an old friend of his. He'd been so proud of her, and found himself furious with Marcelino for receiving credit on her behalf. Marcelino, for his part, had no choice in the matter; he was given orders to lie about his identity. Although he had always desired the fame, respect, and rank that came with the lie, he wanted to earn them on his own merit. He felt angry at himself for taking what was his sisters, embarrassed that he had never actually surpassed her as he originally thought, and even a little angry at her -though mostly just hurt- that she did not share her identity with him. Marcelino could no longer face his sister after that day. Their other siblings were able to deduct the truth, but young, patriotic, idealistic Louiz took it very difficulty, because it shook up his perceptions of how the world around him work.

After her relocation, Valéria was bitter, but not particularly angry. She became very disillusioned with the world around her, to the point that even the atrocities that she was overseeing had very little effect on her. For her frigid demeanor and expectations of absolute adherence and obedience, she became known to the slaves as a heartless woman. However, she only laid her hands on a slave once; six months after she'd been posted there, one of a group of POWs brought up the O Sombra scandal. He accused her of being a weak woman who'd gone out searching for fame and got shot out of the air on her first combat flight. She calmly told him to quiet himself, but he kept on going, becoming more insulting and more vulgar, until she finally snapped. Hers was a cold fury, but in a way, that only made it worse; she hit him, again and again, and finally pulled her gun on him and dared him to insult her again. Such incidents were common the part of the guards, usually triggered by conflicts far less than this. But it only took a few seconds of staring down her barrel at him for her to become herself again. She was horrified at herself, and at what she'd allowed herself to become.

She feigned sickness for several days after that as she tried to work out just what had happened. Finally, she went out of her way to make it up to the man .She apologized in that brisk way she was accustomed to, the only way she knew how. She got him extra rations of food. Though she still tried to project the same cool image, her treatment of the slaves became noticeably better. More than once, she got into physical altercations with her fellow guards because of their cruelty towards the slaves. On one hot, miserable day, tensions were running particularly high, she reprimanded two who nearly overpowered in retaliation. However, the slave for whom she'd intervened stepped in. This did not help her relationships with the other guards. Still, her actions and several chance encounters that turned to talk of flying led to her forming a friendship with one Wolfgang Gotz. Her acquaintance with him contributed even more to the steady changing of her beliefs. When Arturo and his squadron came to free Wolfgang, she caught onto what was going on almost as soon as she heard the alerts and actually facilitated the rescue. She fully expected to be court marshaled and executed for her participation, but saw this as a means of reparations for what damage she'd done. The last thing she expected was to be invited along for the ride; still, Valéria was repentant, not suicidal, and she would not turn down the chance to start over.

Upon arrival in Europe, Valéria went to Italy, where her oldest brother had moved to pursue his art. She originally just visited to let him know that she was alive, but he insisted that she live with him for a while. She agreed. Luckily, he'd made quite a bit of money while she was off fighting, and he lived in a relatively isolated estate on the coast. Many back home believed she was dead, so no one was looking for her, especially not in Italy. She lived comfortably with him for a few months, recovering from injuries she sustained during the escape. She had just returned to full health when Wolfgang tracked her down and asked her to be the first member -excluding Arturo and himself, of course- of their new group of pirates. Seeing a chance to prove herself once again, to make money, and even to repent (though she'd never acknowledge that last one as having been a part of her reasoning) she joined up.

She stuck with them all three years. There was more than one teammate who disliked her because of her history, because of the cool demeanor she still preferred to put on, or because of her claims of only caring about her own safety and profit, but there was no denying her skill. Besides, those who'd known her the longest were able to see through her words and recognize her true loyalty. When the group finally split, she acted as if she didn't care in the least, but in reality it troubled her deeply. She didn't know what to do with herself without them. She couldn't go home; she was still wanted, and she hadn't been flying with the Wolves for long until her identity got out. Because it did, she was afraid to return to her older brother's home, because she did not want to bring danger his way.

At a loss for what to do, she adopted the name Olivia Zeivido and began to travel. She had enough money saved to fund her travels and to live comfortably, but she eventually started taking odd jobs just to alleviate the crushing feeling of idleness. She eventually settled down on the very edge of a small, isolated town in Italy. Here she bought piece of land and built a small home. She replaced the plane and guns she'd sold when she started her travels, and got to work improving her skills. Day in and day out she shot until she ran out of bullets, ran until she couldn't stand, and punched whatever hard surface was available until her knuckles bled. Keeping her skills sharp was the only thing she had to latch on to. The only reason for her to keep going at all, in her mind. She would never be a mother or a wife, she could never make her mark on the world like her brother, through art and words. All she'd ever put into the world was pain and suffering, and apparently even her attempts at repentance were just not meant to be. So, what else was she good for?

A year after her self-imposed isolation began, she put out feelers through her old contacts in the criminal world and found herself a new method of employment. Anything involving flying was too risky; she was sure that her distinctive style would be recognized and the anti-pirate groups would be back on her tail. So, she put her other main skill to use; shooting. She became an assassin for hire, falling into the routine of doing a job, donating most of the money to some charity or another out of guilt, drowning herself in alcohol -while with the Wolves she insulted those who drank because it dulled their skills, but that was then, and this was now- to dull her grief, training herself even harder than before to make up for her binge, and restarting the process.

She decided to return to the Wolves almost as soon she heard that they were reforming; she'd done more good with them, after all, than she ever had before in her life. Unfortunately for her, she has just received a letter from her older brother Geraldo that Marcelino and Louiz were promoted. They were re-stationed to Portugal, to participate in a new anti-piracy force.

Other: N/A

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

I'm currently writing up my character's history. Danko, about how old was Wolfgang when he was imprisoned? I'm making sure I have my mental timeline straight.

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

I have a character concept in mind for a character who was a part of an all female Brazilian pilot's corp that handled the transport of planes to free up male pilots for front line fighting. I imagine her to have been one of the best pilots on the continent. This talent was recognized, and the government started sending her on secret missions. When her participation was discovered by the public, the government claimed that she was acting independently and grounded her, relocating her to guard duty at an isolated gold mine as punishment.

There, I imagined that she could have met Wolfgang. Maybe they could have formed a friendship of some sort, with him making her realize just how awful slavery is. Perhaps she could have aided with his escape. After that, I imagine her either being captured and nearly executed for her participation, before she escaped and joined the Wolves. This relationship is just an idea, though. My other idea was her quitting as soon as her government denied her coming into contact with the group some other way.

Does this character sound good to you, Danko? If not, I can totally think up something else. I just love this whole RP concept, and would really like to take part.

Animorphs

Vivid is in two other RPs right now, so her writing urge is being adequately filled!

On a non referring-to-myself-in-third-person note, I'll be starting on the introduction of our very first alien pals shortly. I can either wait until Terminal and Ali get to the construction site to post it or do so before, if they'd like for the ship's crash landing to be what brings them there in the first place.

Animorphs

I've always said it "hork (rhyming with cork) BAA-jar," but with a soft J.

The White Island Prophecies

Posted! Sorry for the wait. I find introduction posts more difficult than most. :P

The White Island Prophecies

Esmee Tarmalene in Elband - Early Morning

Nearly every waking hour of the past week had been filled with festivities. There had been feasts and balls, tournaments of wit and skill, plays, even an entrancing show of magic from a wandering group of Sendai performers. All of this, purely for the sake of giving the nation's princess a proper send off. Truth be told, Esmee found it all to be quite overwhelming. She enjoyed all of the revelries as much as the next girl, but lately more than ever, her mother had been strict on her regarding the maintenance of a proper, queenly demeanor. This was the last time that most at court would see her for several years. She needed to leave them with the image of her as a calm, clearheaded young lady, one who could be expected to shoulder the burden of ruling the moment she returned, if need be. Anything less left the potential for civil unrest.

Esmee was well aware of this, but it didn't stop her from regretting her inability to truly just let loose and enjoy herself. Her last days at court before she could fully be considered an adult should have been just the time for that, in her opinion. Unfortunately, as in all aspects of her life, she simply did not have the final say. When the last feast had ended the night before she was expected to leave, she was almost grateful to be able to retire to the North Wing. That night several of her noble tutors had approached her privately, to give her lists of books that she could find in the White Island libraries that would keep her caught up in her non-magic related studies, to wish her luck, and some even to express their fondness for the young woman. Of the six of them, most had been teaching her since she was a small child. It was almost as difficult to say goodbye to them as to the court life itself.

In contrast to the warm farewells from her tutors, breakfast with her mother was simply more of the same. As long as they were in the same residence, Alisande made it a point to take breakfast with her daughter in their private quarters. Especially as Esmee grew older, these breakfasts became less about socializing and sharing time together, and more about going over their schedules for the day and the queen giving small lessons and reminders to her heir. Today was no different. The only acknowledgement granted to Esmee's leaving was its small mention as they went over the events for the day. After that, the two ate in silence. When some time had passed, Alisande excused herself with the explanation that she had a meeting in the Morning Room. It went without saying that it was with the newly arrived Sendai, whose presence in the capital had been announced as soon as she passed through its outer gates.

Upon returning to her own quarters, Esmee was greeted by her nursemaid, Maude. She was the eldest of the girl's some fifteen personal servants, and generally a very stern woman. Today, though, she was almost abnormally sweet to to her mistress. Judging by the red puffiness of the skin around her eyes, Esmee suspected that she'd been crying.

"Maude... Are you alright?" Esmee questioned as the older woman, along with two younger maidservants, helped her into the kirtle she'd be traveling in. It was of a light, cream colored silk, contrasting well against her dark skin. The silk was reasonably soft, but stronger and more resistant to tears than her court gowns. Maude, ever the prideful woman despite, or perhaps because of, a life spent caring for royal children, bristled.

"I am just fine, your Highness," She nearly snapped, the title added almost as an afterthought. Esmee smiled, having full well expected such a response. Of course Maude would never share any personal feelings. In spite of the teachings of her mother and tutors, Esmee couldn't help doing so herself.

"Well, you should know that I am going to miss you terribly. Thank you, for everything," She said, in an odd sort of defiance towards her lessons that she very rarely showed. Maude turned away, and for a moment both maidservants watched her instead of helping the princess into her surcoat; a very sturdy thing that buttoned up over the bodice, and parted to show the skirt of the kirtle beneath it. It was a darker tan, though still lighter than Esmee's own skin.

"I do not need thanks for doing my job. Besides, you will have many more things to worry about than missing an old woman like me, Highness. Like your studies. You must be vigilante if you wish to grow up to protect our country as your mother and her mother before her have." Some might consider the old woman's speech just a touch too informal, but she'd been with the royal family far longer than most people had been alive. This time, if nothing else, allowed her more freedom of speech than most servants.

"Yes," Esmee said with a nod, lips suddenly pursing into a tight-lipped frown. That lapse from serious thoughts was, like always, rather short lived. She silently contemplated the trials before her as the woman went about fixing her hair. Instead of her usual style of intricate braids piled atop her head, the whole of her hair would be pulled back into one long braid, falling past her waist. A silver belt and a dark blue travelling cloak, with a white gold clasp in the shape of a rose, would complete her outfit, but these would not be added until it was closer to the time to leave. Similarly, she still got to wear her lovely lace slippers, instead of the rather boring, practical boots she'd be wearing for the trip.

Shortly after they were done dressing her, the servants took their leave. Esmee planned to send for Marie. Despite the wishes of both girls, she would not be allowed in Esmee's entourage; only two maidservants and a small handful of elite guardsmen would be accompanying her. This in mind, she wanted to take the opportunity to say goodbye in private to her closest friend. Before she could do so, though, there was a knocking at her door. She bid them enter, and in came a guard wearing the familiar blue and silver Tarmalene coat-of-arms. He bowed, holding his fist against his heart in the salute reserved for superiors in the military, the noble the soldier was sworn to if he was not in direct service of the royal family, and the royals themselves. "Your Highness, Tamara Sendai of the White Island is at the entrance to the North Wing, and she seeks your highness's permission for a meeting."

Esmee nodded, and considered her options. She could not turn away the woman, not that she'd have any desire to do so; this was a woman she'd be spending a lot of time with during her travels, after all. So, she could either take the woman in the sitting room of her private quarters, or somewhere more public. "You may escort her to her to our private gardens," Esmee instructed, "I shall meet her there at my earliest possible convenience. That will be all," She dismissed him. Of course, she'd actually be heading over to the deigned meeting place right away, but it was important, as royalty, to never make it seem as though she was waiting on someone of lower rank than she. So she took the long route to the northern edge of their quarters. The royal garden was surrounded by high sandstone walls, and filled with flora from around the world. Several rivers ran through it, under sandstone bridges. There were statues of the original Sendai, past Mendarian kings and queens, and one cast in pure gold of Emperor Altalan himself. The garden was a wonder, even in a castle filled with wonders.

Her arrival was preceded by a single guard, who announced her. Upon entering the garden she found the Sendai, waiting. This woman was shorter than Esmee herself, but then, so were most. Despite her young age, she was taller than most grown women. She carried the white staff of a Sendai, similar to that of Fendrel's. Her robes, however, were much lighter than his. Perhaps so that she may remain inconspicuous? No matter. Esmee approached the woman with a regal stature, and a carefully practiced expression hiding her youthful curiosity. "You are Tamara Sendai, of the White Island?" She asked.