Cubix

[Mid-High Casual] The Wings of the Seraph

LOOKING FOR LAST 1-2 MEMBERS!

OOC: roleplayerguild.com/topics/83658-mid-h..

Flavour Intro

Only a few of them remained. Just as the dusk took its reign upon the sky, Akriel stood among the rotting dead. Everything that had happened occurred at a pace that was faster than the quickest fraction of a second, their whole guild wrought in ashes as only a few of them remained to take a steady yet agonized breath of air on this windy morning. The sanguine scent threatened to stab at his nostrils, fully reminding the surviving sorcerer that what had happened was beyond the leyline of a mere nightmare. No, what had happened to the Seraphims was a tragedy beyond any other. Akriel stood up, steeling himself to chance a glimpse at his brethren that littered the crimson soil. A lot of them had tried to fight to the last of the strings that kept them dancing, they kept fighting until they were nothing more than ashes. Suddenly, his eyes darted to the sides, noticing that there were a few more survivors who were just as battered as he was.

"Never thought I'd live to see the sun." Akriel quipped, his scarlet-stained robe fluttering with the morbid dance of the winds. The Kronos had done this to them. After decades upon decades of clashes and duels, the Seraph had been bested in both skill and wit.

Their enemies came like a raging tornado amidst a blazing hurricane, massacring a great number of vortakians in the same manner as they were born-- without a fighting chance. As the surviving fighters rose from the rubble, Akriel knew that all of them shared the same idea with him. They had always been together, anyway. The Seraph was more than just a guild, it was a brotherhood. They treated each other like the closest friend they could ever have. One's pain was the pain of all and the pain of all was the pain of one. It was ironic that the deadliest mercenary guild would be the one that would be buried in sulphur and ash.

"You all know what to do, right?" the sorcerer shrugged his shoulders. Akriel's lips quivered with much voracity and viciousness. "They ain't gonna get away with this. We'll kill them all... down to the last cell that remains of them until their very memories are erased from the tapestry of history."

Brief Background

The Seraph was once a powerful mercenary guild, feared for their monstrous warriors and cunning sorcerers. This guild swore allegiance to the ancient bloodline of the Zaazenach royalty of the Vualranur empire. The Seraph, as stated in their treaty, would come to the aid of the zenachian monarchs in their time of need. It seemed that their mission was short-lived. In 526 P.A, when prince Azrael succeeded the throne of his father, the Ninrus Colonies to the north of Vualranur sieged the nation. The prince was known to be a coward and, thus, when he had heard of the attack, the monarch vanished. The Seraph, answering the call of the oath, prepared to face the Ninrus army at the break of dawn. However, before they could act, a conclave of guilds attacked the lone defender. This conclave was known as the 'Kronos'.

The Seraphs were overwhelmed, dying before the sun could rise. The next thing they knew, Vualranur had fallen to the Ninrus Colony in under a single night. The survivors of the guild had an unspoken agreement... upon the name of their guild, upon the name of their nation and upon the name of the ancient monarchs, they would avenge their kingdom. Blood was going to be spilled in the future; a crimson path lay in wait for the six survivors of the guild.

As a start, they had come across the cowardly monarch, prince Azrael. Their mission was simple and clear: wipe out the Ninrus influence in Vualranur, slay the Ninrus commander and ascend Azrael to the throne. The fallen angel was not going to die today... not with its six wings still intact.

Notes

So, yeah, this roleplay will take place in the fantasy world of Vualranur where six mercenaries along with a cowardly prince will try to eliminate a great threat in their kingdom. I'd prefer five other people would be involved in this adventure! As the GM, I'd be playing Prince Azrael and one of the veteran guild members, Akriel.

Live like Royalty... Or Die Trying

It was obvious that the host prince was doubtful of Crix's constitution. Well, who wouldn't be? He was the only monarch here with a walking cane for Maker's sake! Besides, the other princes and princesses were all jovial and confident in their strides whilst Crix was coughing like he was on the brink of death... figuratively, of course (he hopes). However, before he could remark on that thought, his attention was caught by an approaching princess. Initially, Crix paid no real heed to her approach but as her visage grew more steadily clear, the paplian prince knew that it was a big mistake to not have noticed her earlier. It was Princess Violette Moran, his betrothed! As his eyes set upon her figure, Crix couldn't help but feel that his throat became dry, unable to spout anything of his calibre. Although the aforementioned princess carried little elegance in her movements as compared to her counterparts, she was beautiful-- no, beautiful was an understatement, she was dazzling! No, this wasn't desire or lust. It was something more: admiration.

As he stared at her welcomed approach, a thought eased its way into the sickly prince's mind: why wasn't he coughing yet? Crix almost felt bad that he was to be wed with a princess of this level of beauty; she could have easily gotten to one of his brothers who could offer her more than what Crix was capable of. Sure, he had seen her portraits in the past but those painted canvases could have never prepared him for such an alluring persona that now stood and introduced herself to them.

Crix nodded in response, doing the only thing he could do at the moment when all his senses, for the first time, were unable to keep up with his sight: he smiled. It took a while for the prince to get back to 'professional' mode but once he did, the cold visage of the paplian inventor returned. "Princess Violette." Crix returned the greeting, taking advantage of the moment of peace where he wasn't coughing like a madman, and took the woman's hand in his before planting a subtle kiss on the back of her palm. It was a good thing that he wasn't coughing because the last time he did that, he coughed on one of the visitor's hands... so, not the ideal event for an alliance. Crix straightened himself once more, looking at his betrothed. Supposedly, this was the part where he was suppose to flatter her but, to hell with that, Crix was not one for flattery. "You're beautiful." he said, ever so straightforward and sincere. He had been one to say things on his mind and he was not going to go back on his nature.

However, as more and more people arrived at their location, his illness began to come back. "Princess." Crix began with a small grin. "While I'd want to know you better, would it be okay for us to transfer to another location? I don't really do well in a crowd." the prince confessed amidst some small coughs here and there. "Besides, it might be a good time for me to explore my neighbouring kingdoms. I haven't been to Freyea until now. Or, rather, I haven't been outside of Paplia..." his voice eventually lowered. "Actually, I haven't been outside the castle walls... until now."

He felt bad now. Crix and Violette were polar opposites; monarchs living on the opposite ends of the spectrum. He felt small compared to all of them but, then again, these thoughts were chained to his mind and no one could now that he was insecure. Heck, even his own sister thought that he was as proud as his inventions were. He had to be strong for his kingdom, for his parents, for his siblings, and for his own dignity.

Teen Titans: Divided We Fall

"That. Be. So. Amazin'!" Rhea beamed with joy as she took the magic-born cup in her hands. The healer tipped the cup to her lips, taking a delicate sip of the only beverage she would go gaga for. As the tea began to warm her palate, Rhea couldn't stifle a satisfied sigh as she leaned lower than what was usual. "If I be havin' powers like yers, Hatty, I'd just be poofin' up tea like dis evry'day." She said with a grin. "Still, I'm curious. If ye can poof up things like dis whenever ye want, ye could just be makin' diamonds and sell dem 'till you get rich!" Rhea exclaimed before settling down in her seat.

As Hatty mentioned Sentinel, the girl chuckled. "If he was thrown under a bus, da bus would be the one to get wrecked." A hearty laugh escaped her lips. "I dun really know how to put it but... he has more layers dan an onion. He be a good person, Hatty. That I am sure. He may seem to be a handful but, I be guessin' that everyone just needs a wee bit of push in da right direction." Rhea stood up as she finished her tea, washing the magically-spawned porcelain ware. After that was done, her hands softly patted the magician's jet-black locks, a slight chuckle resounding from the healer. "Thanks, Hatty. Wud it be okay to say that... we be friends?" Rhea smiled before yawning timidly. "I be guessin' dat I be needin' to hit the hay. I'm more tired dan usual but... I'm also happier dan usual." Rhea took her leave as she slightly noticed an absent member of their team. Well, a former absentee or... absentees. It was the twins! While the healer was tired, she made sure to spare them her greeting. "Gem, Sia... I haven't seen da both of ya fer the entire day!" Rhea giggled before excusing herself. "I feel a wee bit exhausted. Lez just talk tomorrow, aight?"

Rhea travelled to her room in slow steps, remembering all the memories that had occurred today. Their first blunder, her first friend, her second friend and the wild party that was happening in the poor room. Every single one of them, she treasured close to her heart. Her hands still trembled upon seeing the scarlet stain on her robe but she found courage to face her phobia. How could she have the face to stand alongside her team when she would let a small problem of blood get the best of her? No, she needed to be useful in the future. "As long as I live, none shall suffer." Rhea vowed to herself as she found herself inside her small, humble and warm room. She went over to the chalkboard, focusing on one part of it where multiple items or tokens were attached to its surface. There were key chains and some toys among others. Rhea took out the torn cloth and pinned it to the side of the hung items. "I be guessin' dat it be true, Dane." the woman soliloquised. In Rhea's mind, she believed that no one finds their worth. Everyone is already worth it-- they just need someone to acknowledge their worth. "I was a runt, I stumbled, yes, but Dane didn't deem lil'o me as bein' lost. It was too late fer me to acknowledge my worth but he din't deem me unworthy of saving." Rhea continued with her mumblings. "Das how I feel fer my comrades. Dey might have stumbled but dey ar' not lost. Dey might not have acknowledged der own worth but, I be believin', dat no one is not worth savin'." He is not unworthy of saving.

Rhea took off her robe, sighing as she realized that the blood had bled through the robe and had stained her white nightgown. "Bygones be bygones, Rhea." she mumbled her mantra before taking the gown off as well and throwing the two apparels into the laundry basket. Rhea pulled out one of her new white robes and grabbed something underneath-- another white nightgown. "Dis should be good fer the night." the healer yawned, diving into the comforts of her bed, her fortress of serenity. Her eyes drooped down calmly as she sighed, the lull of sleep ever so near now. She could feel the nightmares begin to stab at her psyche but, for some odd reason, there was a new guardian that prevented those visions to torment her sleep. She knew, oh, she knew so well... that this would be the best sleep in a long time.

Live like Royalty... Or Die Trying

A few days ago, before coming to Freyea, Crix had already heard that among the discussions of war and alliances, matrimonial talks were going to be part of their visit. Oh, of course, the curious prince had already researched about who he was paired up with. Quite so fittingly, he was set to be wed off to a lass whose name was Princess Moran. She had enticing traits and an appearance that led men to think with their other hands but the prince predicted that beneath her smiles and rumours, she was an entirely different person. Everyone had a mask they wore, anyway; everyone had a mask to show others, a mask to show their family and a mask that they never want anyone to see. This third mask is the reflection of the truest identity of the person involved. However, his situation behind, Crix was more worried for his sister, Erin. They had never really talked much but just because he didn't socialize with his own kind doesn't mean that he doesn't care for them. On the contrary, Erin was probably the closest sibling he could ever hope to agree with. So, when the royal entourage was already stationed outside of the castle of Paplia, Crix took the opportunity to talk to his sister.

As the lad hobbled on a walking cane, the youngest brother met up with his sister. Before speaking, however, Crix made sure that no one was watching or near. "So, you're being married off to this prince Marion. I've done my research on him and the results didn't come as good as I had expected. He's as proud as a llama spitting at a hunter." Crix began, his voice was intermittently cut by arid coughs. "What I mean to say is... if he ever puts a dent on your face or any part of your body for that matter, tell me. And, I'll castrate him brutally until he can't walk for a year." Once more, Crix began to cough voraciously, only abating by inhaling a large amount of air. "I know we don't talk much but... you're still my sister and I.. uh..." the lad hesitated, knowing that it was out of character for him to do so. "I care for you just the same." Crix smiled genuinely, a rare occurrence, before turning his back on her. "That'll be the last time you hear that from me, Erin. Don't get used to it."

----

He had expected the room to be a bit more... gracious. They were more packed than a can of sardines (speciality of the invention of Paplia, thank you) but, perhaps, there was a deeper meaning to this. However, as the grown-ups began discussing the pressing matters, it couldn't be helped but to usher the younger generation out. Crix was nonchalantly disappointed, though. He believed that he was more than mature let alone smart enough to contribute to the discussion, which made it a point to believe that he was ushered out so that the royal families would be spared from his incessant coughing. Still, as he escaped from the hall, his illness got the better of him, his lips opening in silent agony as his coughs were becoming more brutal as time passed by. Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of him, apparently asking the state of his health.

"Ah, prince Liam. Worry not about me." Crix straightened himself on his cane. "I'm fine." Crix forced a smile before wiping his lips with a small cloth. Well, he couldn't escape now. "Your kingdom is wonderful but a bigger meeting room would have been splendid." the prince muttered amidst some small hacks and gurgles. His eyes darted over to the prince just a few feet away from them... it was prince Marion. Crix's eyes dilated in annoyance at the older prince's appearance; he practically oozed arrogance with the way he strode and walked. Heck, Crix didn't even need to do research if he had seen Marion at an earlier period of time. Due to this seething disappointment at the man who his sister was suppose to marry, Crix couldn't help but click his tongue. However, he wasn't here to fight or bicker with his counterparts. He needed to establish some sort of... alliance with them. His gaze turned over to prince Liam, his counterpart host, and smiled gently.

"Our parents, huh? Marrying us off to the other princes and princesses without our approval. But, then again, they never needed our approval." Crix chuckled lightly, a slight cough escaping his lips. "Who did you get as your lucky bride?" the sickly prince turned to his host.

Live like Royalty... Or Die Trying

They're all in Freyea, I must presume?

Teen Titans: Divided We Fall

"Dun worry." Rhea retracted her hands, finally finishing the healing process. "I'll talk to ye if I need help so dat ye can be da one to cheer me up." The girl slumped back on the bed as well, feeling the exhaustion of having depleted many of her own cells. "I haven't healed anyone dat intense ever since..." Dane's bloodied face appeared in her mind; that fateful night of December 24, eleven fifty-nine, 59 seconds, 99 milliseconds. Tears threatened to stab at her eyes which Rhea hid quite so quickly with a chuckle. "Years ago." the healer giggled for a while, gazing up at the ceiling which seemed to be more interesting at this moment than the teapot of earl grey. It seemed that Sentinel's past had been riddled with far more complexities than she would have ever imagined. It didn't take a genius to know that he wanted to be just the man who he wished to be on that star. He must have been living under the Man of Steel's shadow all this time. After all, Sentinel did wish to be like Superman. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Sentinel inquired whether she was hungry and, before she could reply, the boy had carried her in his arms at a speed faster than what the squirming healer was used to. Rhea, due to the surprise, had tightly coiled her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as she swore that her very cells were left behind on the staircase. Then, Sentinel set her down and, after wobbling, Rhea burst out in a series of soft laughters. "Yer lucky I din't git no whiplash." the woman smirked before dragging her feet to the kitchen, not wanting to be caught in the tomfoolery of her team who seemed so lively than usual.

Still, with the party atmosphere at full blast and the pizza looking sexier and hotter than the demigod who was hosting the party, Rhea decided that she could, at least, try to make the night enjoyable for them. With her skills in the kitchen, Rhea brought out some of their remaining chicken wings, intending to make some spicy wings for the titans. As the boys and girls (Whirlie, cough) began bragging of their skills in some guitar... hero... apparently, Rhea rolled her eyes albeit a smile crawled on her face. God knows what Guitar Hero is but if it means they can smash guitars against a huge monster, then, the healer had no intention of participating. After all, there just so many strings you can pluck before you go whammy all of a sudden, if that ever made sense. If there was something that Rhea prided herself upon, it was her cooking and when the spicy wings were as hot as the demigod... Wait, what? "I must be goin' bonkers..." she couldn't help but smile. If she was feeling these kinds of attraction, then, it means that, for once, her mind had been eased away from her nightmares.

After placing the wings on a medium-sized plate, Rhea strode over to the treasure that was pizza and placed the plate beside it. Of course, hard work like this required payment and since Rhea was a merciful goddess, pizza would have to suffice. As she happily munched on the delicacy, she took a seat while looking at the titans, no, teens, who were, at least, enjoying the night after what seemed as a first time failure. A relaxed smile formed on her lips, observing the grins and smiles of each of her comrades. If only the world would be as simple as this, if only... Everyone seemed to be sparkling tonight but whether it was just the fantasy-like atmosphere created by laughs and jeers or the pizza, Rhea didn't want anything else but for this moment to last just a little bit longer; after all, before anything else, they were Teens before Titans. Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of a person who was already in the kitchen. "Oh, Hatty! It's you. I almost din't see none of ya." Rhea grinned as she looked at what the magician had prepared. "Cereals, huh? Oh, and I guess I ain't da only one who don't like drinkin' wine." Suddenly, she looked down at her hands, realizing that she had left her gloves in Sentinel's room. "Well, I'll just have to git it from him tomorrow, then. Still, I guess he could heat up the remainin' tea wid his heat vision and stuff."

As Rhea shuffled through her robe, she pulled out the torn 'S'. A relaxed sigh escaped her breathing, a knowing smile taking residence. "I'll be takin' dis as a token, then." she mumbled to herself, tucking the cloth back into her robe. Her eyes went back to the magician and with pleading eyes, she relayed her intention. "Ye wouldn't know how to magically summon earl grey tea here, wud ya?"

Live like Royalty... Or Die Trying

Crix Oxeum F. Atrox

"Each name is as meaningless as the letters that comprise it."

Age:
16
"What is age but a reason for fools to waste time."

Kingdom and Position:
Prince of Paplia
"I am the prince of Paplia, and Paplia is me; Through it, I am connected to everyone and everyone to me."

Sexuality:
Demisexuality
"Love is but a tool to win wars."

Anti Separation
"We are all the same; we are just different parts of the same whole."

Likes

-Publishing books, journals and other writings that contribute to the knowledge of research and development.
-Reading Books (duh)
-Drinking Tea
-Developing and Creating Toys
-Researching and Developing

Dislikes:

-Chaotic environments
-Fighting
-Idiots and screw-ups
-Being underestimated

Personality
Crix is, at first glance, a cold and calculating prince who measures the worth of objects based on their use to him and the kingdom. He is the polar opposites of his much cheerful and bright siblings and relatives who made Paplia is a hustling and bustling kingdom that it now is. Furthermore, Crix is blunt with his words, not fearing to say what is on his mind even if it means hurting others. Due to his chronic illness, Crix is quite physically weak and will almost always keep coughing even when he's talking. Crix does dislike violence and will berate anyone who condones such a barbaric behaviour. However, Crix has a soft spot for children, his core growing warm whenever he sees a child enjoying the toys he had developed for them. Secretly, Crix is jealous of his healthier counterparts in the other kingdoms, knowing that society today would rather praise the strength of the arm rather than the strength of the mind; that, no matter how smart Crix becomes, he could never reach the reputation of his fathers before him.

History:
Unlike his siblings and cousins, Crix had been born as a physically weak prince. He had this chronic illness that plagued his health for the entirety of his existence. While his brothers and sisters could hold a sword and fight like any child, Crix was still taking his first steps. Pretty much, he was the weakest royal every conceived in the last few years. So, while his siblings were out fighting, Crix decided that if he could not excel in the field of fighting, then he would excel in the arts and sciences. The boy began to read, read, read and read! He would go to libraries since the first light of dawn and he would go home when the night had settled in. While his brothers would come home sweaty and battered, he would also come home at the same time, glasses and books in hand.

In time, Crix contributed to a lot to the development of Paplia, turning the simple kingdom into the epitome of brilliance, extravagance and technological superiority. His inventions of the state-of-the-art water purifying system as well as the numerous weapons and accessories that make life easier had been attributed to a life of working in the shadows. While some consider Crix to be a genius, there is still a deep shadow that haunts the boy. His envy gnaws at him everyday, his desire to run, to jump and to... just have fun... were always left insatiable due to his sickness. Thus, Crix found his solace in handing kids his toys; the prince's eyes would well up in tears as he would look the children play and laugh, not wanting them to be lonely and sad because he, himself, knows how terrible it is to not be able to do something that you really want to do... all because of a sickness that you could never have avoided.

Extra:
-Crix is terribly bad around women, often losing his composure when one gets too close for comfort.

Teen Titans: Divided We Fall

Aight! I'd choose the first room, left side, top one.

Teen Titans: Divided We Fall

Sweet cheesus... look that sexy beast. Would it be okay to know which ones belong to who?

Live like Royalty... Or Die Trying

Thanks :d I'll keep that in mind. Do we post our CSs in the character tab?