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| Character You're Applying For |
Garth of Shayeris
| Age |
12
| Powers And Abilities |
Garth is a full-blood Atlantean, physiologically adapted to the crushing pressures, low light, and freezing temperatures of the deep ocean. In the water, Garth breathes through special pores in his skin. He is able to survive for brief periods on dry land before he begins to experience dehydration, varying based on ambient humidity. A few other notable distinctions from baseline humans include:
• Superhuman Stamina: Garth can tolerate depths in excess of 3,600 feet, routinely experiencing ocean pressures equivalent to 1,602psi (10,900 kPa). He also does not suffer any ill-effects from prolonged exposure to the sea, such as hypernatremia (salt water poisoning) or desquamation of the skin from continuous immersion. He is able to maintain a stable body temperature even in deep ocean water (33-37˚F) and does not experience hypothermia.
• Superhuman Strength: Garth's arms and legs are able to propel him at 90 mph (78 knots) while under thousands of pounds of ocean pressure.
• Telepathy: Garth can communicate both telepathically and empathically, both with people as well as marine life. This is commonly used as the means of communication underwater due to the nature of sound transmission at depth.
• Magic: He has the rare ability to wield Atlantean magic, giving him the potential to control currents, manipulate the elements, or even teleport across dimensions... if he ever learns to control it, that is.
• Superhuman Stamina: Garth can tolerate depths in excess of 3,600 feet, routinely experiencing ocean pressures equivalent to 1,602psi (10,900 kPa). He also does not suffer any ill-effects from prolonged exposure to the sea, such as hypernatremia (salt water poisoning) or desquamation of the skin from continuous immersion. He is able to maintain a stable body temperature even in deep ocean water (33-37˚F) and does not experience hypothermia.
• Superhuman Strength: Garth's arms and legs are able to propel him at 90 mph (78 knots) while under thousands of pounds of ocean pressure.
• Telepathy: Garth can communicate both telepathically and empathically, both with people as well as marine life. This is commonly used as the means of communication underwater due to the nature of sound transmission at depth.
• Magic: He has the rare ability to wield Atlantean magic, giving him the potential to control currents, manipulate the elements, or even teleport across dimensions... if he ever learns to control it, that is.
| Origin And Backstory |
Garth is the son of Thar, King of Idyls -- a political off-shoot of Atlanteans who rejected the ways of Poseidon and sought a pacifist utopia inside of the Hidden Valley, where they founded the underwater city of Shayeris approximately 4,000 years ago. His mother is Berra, Queen of the Idylists. Garth's ability to use Atlantean magic was inherited from his father, who is regarded as the Idylist's second most powerful sorcerer. The title of most powerful was held by Thar's elder brother, who held the original claim to the throne of the Idylist Kingdom. Then Crown Prince Slizzath was rejected for his study of the forbidden arts of necromancy, resulting in his banishment for dabbling in the black arts. Eventually, Slizzath raised an undead army and sought to take the throne of Shayeris, but was defeated by Thar and Aquaman.
The underwater city-state of Venturia invaded the Idyls, led by Queen Clea (who wielded the Trident of Poseidon). In order to maintain their pacifistic way of life, Shayeris appealed to Atlantis for aid and were liberated by the combined efforts of Aquaman and Diana of Themyscira (Wonder Woman). As a result of this incident, Garth was taken as a ward of Atlantis.
As he has grown older, Garth has started to gravitate toward the only other outsider in all Atlantis, the half-blood known as the hero Aquaman. Self-described as Aquaman's greatest fan, Garth would follow the adventures and escapades of his idealized idol, which had the inadvertent coincidence of putting Garth in the right place at the right time to rescue his hero. Afterward, the two began to interact and travel together more often, resulting in Garth earning the moniker Aqualad by those who saw the boy graduate from groupie to sidekick status.
As Aqualad, Garth met fellow sidekick Wonder Girl (Donna Troy) and the Justice League. These experiences introduced Garth to the concept of life on the surface of the Earth, something he'd only heard of through the accounts of Arthur Curry (which seemed more like flights of fantasy).
The underwater city-state of Venturia invaded the Idyls, led by Queen Clea (who wielded the Trident of Poseidon). In order to maintain their pacifistic way of life, Shayeris appealed to Atlantis for aid and were liberated by the combined efforts of Aquaman and Diana of Themyscira (Wonder Woman). As a result of this incident, Garth was taken as a ward of Atlantis.
As he has grown older, Garth has started to gravitate toward the only other outsider in all Atlantis, the half-blood known as the hero Aquaman. Self-described as Aquaman's greatest fan, Garth would follow the adventures and escapades of his idealized idol, which had the inadvertent coincidence of putting Garth in the right place at the right time to rescue his hero. Afterward, the two began to interact and travel together more often, resulting in Garth earning the moniker Aqualad by those who saw the boy graduate from groupie to sidekick status.
As Aqualad, Garth met fellow sidekick Wonder Girl (Donna Troy) and the Justice League. These experiences introduced Garth to the concept of life on the surface of the Earth, something he'd only heard of through the accounts of Arthur Curry (which seemed more like flights of fantasy).
| Summary of Version Differences |
The origin of Garth has been re-worked to better distinguish him from Aquaman. Instead of being exposed/abandoned as an infant, Garth is a ward of Atlantis and the prince of Shayeris. Otherwise, it's exactly what it says on the tin.
@Draven
The Shi'ar do not understand this Christmas tradition of your people.
However, we will accept any gifts offered. Purely out of tolerance toward your barbaric human customs, and not at all because a Nintendo Switch is on the wish list (with Splatoon 2, please).
And on that note, Merry Christmas Eve for those who celebrate. And Happy Holidays for all.
The Shi'ar do not understand this Christmas tradition of your people.
However, we will accept any gifts offered. Purely out of tolerance toward your barbaric human customs, and not at all because a Nintendo Switch is on the wish list (with Splatoon 2, please).
And on that note, Merry Christmas Eve for those who celebrate. And Happy Holidays for all.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
G A R T H
T H E S U B - M A R I N E R"I won't stand here and do nothing!"
GARTH OF SHAYERIS ♦ PRINCE OF IDYLLS ♦ ATLANTIC OCEAN
O R I G I N S:
The son of King Thar of Shayeris and Queen Berra of Crastinus, Garth represents the new hope that is the United Kingdom of Shayeris and Crastinus, one of the twelve undersea kingdoms that comprise Poseidonis. Under the tutelage of the High Mage, Vulko, Garth is coming of age in a realm of magic that stands in firm opposition to Venturia’s warmongering. This has thrust the boy into the midst of undersea politics he doesn’t yet understand, as his uncle, Slizzath, conspires to bring about events that will propel him to power at great cost to life both above and below the surface.
As the United States prepares to sink the aircraft carrier USS Trafalgar with the stated goal of creating an artificial reef, events are set into motion that will upend Garth’s royal life and ask the question of whether one boy alone can stop the tide of war with the surface.
As the United States prepares to sink the aircraft carrier USS Trafalgar with the stated goal of creating an artificial reef, events are set into motion that will upend Garth’s royal life and ask the question of whether one boy alone can stop the tide of war with the surface.
S A M P L E P O S T:
THE UNITED KINGDOM OF SHAYERIS & CRASTINUS
The Hamlet of Thierna na Oge
There was so much blood in the water.
At first, he’d thought that it was just sediment. The visibility around the tremendous impact sending hundreds of pounds up from the ocean floor to create a veritable fog in which the boy could no longer see the hand in front of his face.
It was a quick and sobering realization that debris was not the only thing floating around him. Luckily, the cold waters around him stole away his tears as quickly as they sprang.
Taking a deep breath, the youth steeled himself. Even without his sight, the boy’s sense of location could pick out each of the guards around him in turn. “What are you standing around me for?”
From the murky blackness the thoughts of the man-at-arms was quick to answer, “Your Highness, it isn’t safe!”
“Yes, and our people need your protection,”the boy charged
He could feel the guards checking in with one another. After an awkward silence, a voice finally offered, “I’ll stay with the prince.”
The boy gave a sigh of relief, releasing a breath he’d held in anticipation of being dragged back to Shayeris and thrown into a room. To wait around with tutors while others did the work that needed to be done.
Or worse, catered to him when that attention was needed elsewhere.
“With me,” the boy said, not wanting to yield for even a second when it seemed the hand had loosened on the reigns that sought to tether him to a throne that was not yet his.
At first, he’d thought that it was just sediment. The visibility around the tremendous impact sending hundreds of pounds up from the ocean floor to create a veritable fog in which the boy could no longer see the hand in front of his face.
It was a quick and sobering realization that debris was not the only thing floating around him. Luckily, the cold waters around him stole away his tears as quickly as they sprang.
Taking a deep breath, the youth steeled himself. Even without his sight, the boy’s sense of location could pick out each of the guards around him in turn. “What are you standing around me for?”
From the murky blackness the thoughts of the man-at-arms was quick to answer, “Your Highness, it isn’t safe!”
“Yes, and our people need your protection,”the boy charged
He could feel the guards checking in with one another. After an awkward silence, a voice finally offered, “I’ll stay with the prince.”
The boy gave a sigh of relief, releasing a breath he’d held in anticipation of being dragged back to Shayeris and thrown into a room. To wait around with tutors while others did the work that needed to be done.
Or worse, catered to him when that attention was needed elsewhere.
“With me,” the boy said, not wanting to yield for even a second when it seemed the hand had loosened on the reigns that sought to tether him to a throne that was not yet his.
N O T E S:
P O S T C A T A L O G:
tbd
I think I'm stuck in the same spot where @Master Bruce has found himself.
I have a ton of ideas for Mordred, but every time I sit down to write, I can't manage to string even a single sentence together to show for those ideas.
I'm going to drop out of the RPG for the time being.
I have a ton of ideas for Mordred, but every time I sit down to write, I can't manage to string even a single sentence together to show for those ideas.
I'm going to drop out of the RPG for the time being.
Allowed myself to get talked into playing softball with people literally half my age.
Mordred post delayed while I wait for the swelling in my hand to go down.
Mordred post delayed while I wait for the swelling in my hand to go down.
Mordred post coming in the next 24 hours-ish.
楽しみにしてください.
楽しみにしてください.
"Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand.
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand..."
-W. B. Yeats
"Life Is But A Dream" [ Part V ] [ Supposed To Be ]
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand.
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand..."
-W. B. Yeats
"Life Is But A Dream" [ Part V ] [ Supposed To Be ]
| CAMELOT
| Sub-Roman Britain | The Year of Our Lord 535
The banners were streaming from atop the parapets.
The sounds of minstrels and the singing of bards punctuated the celebrations on this, the Feast of Stephen. The courtyards and markets brought alive by the tourney that had sprung up around the castle walls to celebrate the hallowed festival of the martyred saint.
The sound of dense wood smacking against wood beat the rhythm of the war drums of child's play. A small gathering of knights and squires surrounding where a pair of boy's sparred in the round. Of the audience, they were the legends. Gods of war in this era and every era since. Sir Galahad, the Knight of the Grail. Jason of Normandy, the Knight of the Blood. Sir Gawain, the Maiden's Knight, greatest of the Knights of the Round Table.
The larger of the boys was Anduin, squire to Sir Jason. His tunic was overlaid in a short coat that was a field embroidered with the likeness of a gold lion - the colors of his knight.
His opponent was a child of two worlds. His Welsh heritage bespoken of by the blue eyes that cast a likeness to the king himself. His tunic shifted about his body, cinched at the waist by a double-wrapped Celtic belt. His feet pressing into the moist earth, clad in a pair of caligae that - like his tunic - were largely unchanged from the days when Roman soldiers had marched upon Hadrian's Wall. A time which, for them, was but a few decades earlier. His tabard was two-toned, sewed together of equal parts of white and red.
The colors of the Silent Knight.
Anduin started forward. His size making him like a Goliath moving upon David and fueling an overhead swing that threatened to overpower the smaller page. But the Welsh bastard was fleet-footed, his movements like that of a dancer as he stepped off t the side. His wooden sword angled back as he brought it up in a watershed block that pushed Anduin's blunted blade aside.
It created an opening, into which he neatly stepped through. His wooden sword brought around and then forward, an overhead strike as he pressed the advantage. The attack drove the larger boy back, his desperate leap robbing him of balance as he careened into the audience behind him, stumbling and falling arse-over-backwards. The sight of which sparked the men to laughter.
Still clutching at his wooden sword, the Welsh page had watched the scene transpire with a kind of detachment. His throat warm as he sucked in breath, felt his heart racing inside his chest.
A hand reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling his sword arm up into the air. As the boy's gaze turned upward, he saw his knight smiling over him as the man raised the boy's arm in a triumph that signaled the end of the match. There was a small smattering of applause, while a others helped Anduin back to his feet.
For his part, the Welsh page was confused. This was his first time taking part in a tourney such as this. Or even seeing such a thing as the Feast of Stephen on the lawn of Camelot.
The confused only deepened as he felt himself seized and lifted up, then spun around. Tankards of mead were raised, as the knights began belting aloud a song of Caedmon. Hugging onto his knight, the page saw the world turn. A merry go round of revelry and good cheer. The minstrel's ballad inciting people to dance.
Shifted around, he found himself feeling somewhat weightless as he went upward. He settled a moment later on the shoulders of the Silent Knight. A man who stood there, wordlessly, as he expressed his gratitude in a language without words for a tankard of mead.
Stood there.
The two of them.
In the shadow of Camelot. From atop the man's shoulder's, the boy looked up and saw the Kent banner flying beside all of the banners. Not least of all the standard of Pendragon.
His mother told him that he would be a king.
To be honest, there was nothing more he wanted so much as to exist in moments like this one. Sir Galahad speaking to Sir Jason. Sir Gawain regaling the maidens fair with stories that were both adventurous and bold. And the Silent Knight, a voiceful member of the company even without uttering a single word.
Maybe he should want to be a king. But to be a knight... to be a knight of the round table... that seemed a far more magnificent thing to him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
| NORTH AMERICA
| Rutland, Vermont | Present Day
He stepped across the threshold.
A single step.
The moment that his heel connected with the dry, rotted board on the rustic front porch he knew that he had arrived. He felt some of the magic fade away, as the familiar bitterness of reality nipped at his senses.
Tears were streaming down either side of his face. Once, many centuries ago, he had been willing to die to avenge the death of his patron knight -- a better man than any he knew. Now, taking his first step into the realm of the living, Mordred faced life in a world without the Silent Knight.
Even if no one knew that name, even if no one sang of his deeds, to Mordred he was a greater knight of the round table than Arthur could have ever hoped to be. The boy knew no other father, and no better friend. That Mordred was here and Sir Brian was not, it was a thought that was instantly lonely for him.
He continued another step. The caligea wrapped around his foot and ankle pressing down on creaking planks, until the youth had passed from out of the door, across the porch, and down the steps. When his feet touched down on the ground, the boy stopped to look behind him.
It seemed an abandoned house. The front door lay off its hinges, the inside gutted and warped with exposure to the humid air. Not at all what it seemed on the other side of the open door.
Holding his head back, the child felt the breeze blowing through his dark hair. The caress of the sun on his face dried his tears, the warmth of cold world. A place he was born and condemned for it. Because of who people said that his father was. A man that Mordred knew only from afar.
Stretching out his arms, the boy braced himself for a moment. An intricate series of movements occupied his fingers, as the child uttered something in ancient Gaelic. "Benthyg dros amser..."
The breeze picked up, leaves swirling around where the young sorcerer's apprentice uttered aloud the will and word. "...byr yw popeth..." he continued, centering himself as he tried to understand how the energies moved in this reality. It was quite different than in the Dreaming.
The magic flowed so seamless there, so effortlessly. Here, he could feel the resistance. "...a geir yn y byd hwn," the boy said, the last syllable slipping from his lips as his eyes seemed to radiate with a luminous energy as the incantation was completed.
The breeze passed him by, as the boy's form was transfigured amid the swirling leaves. In place of the tunic and tabard, the boy was dressed in a pair of jeans. A white, A-frame shirt was dressed with a red hoodie that had white accents.
Holding up two fingers and his thumb, the boy used his other hand to make a circular motion. There was a spark in the air, as a teleportation circle opened a portal in front of him.
As his arms dropped by his side, the boy crossed through the portal, as the path closed behind him.
It was a timeless piece of knowledge as old as civilization. Everything in this world that one might possess was merely borrowed for a short time.
A man's life.
A wizard's magic.
Mordred post arriving today.
楽しみにしてください.
楽しみにしてください.
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