Loki Odinson

Accio Egypt (A Harry Potter Role Play)

@World TravelerAh right. Gotcha.

Seven Deadly Sins: Beast Log

Sketch

Appearance: The average male Grakhim measures 1m from one end to the other, and is around 60cm in height. Females are 1.4m in length and around 75cm in height. A hybrid of spider and centipede, it has the head and eight limbs of a standard huntsman spider, but the abdomen is replaced with the long, segmented body of a centipede, together with the short, sharp legs attached to each segment. Thick exoskeleton covers its entire body from one end to the other, forming a sort of plate armour sturdy enough to protect against an average swing of the sword. However, this plating does not extend to it underside. Colours range from black to dark green and brown, some spotting coloured stripes and spots along its body, others a simple solid shade.

Habitat: Grakhim resides in a forest, sticking to dark, moist places and low ground. Some might even make a home amongst detritus on the forest floor while others like to dig a burrow and lay under the earth. The deeper one travels into the forest, the more Grakhim there will be. The boundaries of their territory is marked with long clumps of dead leaves bundled together with thick, grey saliva.

Behaviour: Detritus-feeders, Grakhim typically keep to themselves and their chosen home, seldom venturing past the edges of the forest. However, they will attack anything and everything – the exception being their kin – that enters their marked territory, regardless if the perceived foe is stronger or weaker than they are.

They always attack in a group numbering no less than four, with one at the head, one at the tail and one on each side. Their saliva can be spat out in a thick, sticky spitball from between their mandibles to blind the foe, and the two spines at the end of their tails whip out at their targets as they are blinded. The eight spider limbs are not as sharp as the shorter legs of their abdomen, and is typically for pinning preys down to bite them with their mandibles.

Fire is the best way to scare them off, and burning away the boundary marks completely will drive all residing within to come out and group together. The average iron weapon will not be able to pierce their exoskeleton, but their unprotected underbelly is a large weakness. Their young are more vulnerable as their exoskeletons have yet to fully develop, but they bite is able to induce mild paralysis. This ability disappears the moment they fully mature.

Breeding: Female Grakhims are one and a half times larger than males, and mating season is an entire month from the start of spring, when the air is dense with moisture and the weather is neither too cold nor too hot. A male’s mating call is a series of clicks, and one has to dominate the other males looking to mate with the female before the pair can breed.

Life cycle: The female carries the eggs within her for two weeks. During that time, she makes a nest out of leaves glued together by saliva in a hole in the ground. Once the two weeks are up, she lays her clutch within the nest and goes away, leaving them to survive on their own. Each egg is milky white, the size of a human child’s head and takes another two weeks to hatch (if they survive that long). The average clutch numbers thirty, but usually only half survives, the other half either dying in their egg or eaten by predators.

The infant emerges from the egg and measure about 20cm in length and 10cm in height. At this stage, although one would be able to see the colour of the infant’s body, it hasn’t developed the slightest bit of exoskeleton, and is translucent. For the next three to five days, it competes with other surviving infants and gorges on the nest their mother built. Once they eat their fill, they sleep and moults the next day. Now, their mandibles is the first to develop an exoskeleton as they need it to improve their survival rate. Every month, it moults, and by the end of the year, they are fully matured, ready to breed next spring. Grakhims have a life span of two years.

Seven Deadly Sins: Beast Log

Sketch

Appearance: There are no distinct differences in height between male and female Junchas. They average 2m in length and 1.6m in height. The face of a wild boar, two large tan tusks protruding from its upper gum, the tusks juts downwards, the sharp tips coming to a stop at the bottom of its lower jaws. Another two tan curved tusks extends from where the head meets the neck, angling slightly outwards, enabling it to injure targets standing at the sides. Upon its head are two goat-like horns the colour of their coarse hair – absence of those features means the Juncha is female. Its body resembles that of a wolf, with sleek fur and huge powerful paws. Each limb possesses four claws, each one deadly sharp. Colours of Junchas ranges from dark grey to silver, or brown to golden. The coarser hair that grown around their paws, tail and head are usually darker in shade compared to the softer fur growing at the body.

Habitat: Juncha can be found almost anywhere in the wilderness, from wide open plains to rocky mountains, the exception being the desert. Granted, the rockier the land and the higher in altitude it is, the less Junchas you would be able to find. Although their fur allows them to withstand colder climates, tundra biomes usually sees significantly less Juncha compared to tropical environments.

Behaviour: As omnivores, Junchas eat literally anything they come across as they move in herds across the land. They rarely stay in one place for long, preferring to move as they graze and hunt for food, as doing so increases the chances of not starving to death. While they may travel in large numbers, they hunt alone or if mated, then in pairs.

Unless provoked, Junchas don’t attack aimlessly. If one keeps silent and stealthy, one would be able to make it through the herd without mishap, as they have bad eyesight and average hearing. Keep away from their young and they wouldn’t attack even if they know you are there. However, threaten a member of a mated pair and you will find their other half charging at you without forewarning.

Junchas are surprisingly nimble and agile despite their fairly large bulk, and are as powerful as grizzly bears in terms of raw power. Together with their deadly claws and various tusks, surviving a head on charge is but a distant dream. However, their hides are not that tough and is susceptible to ordinary weapons.

Breeding: Junchas reach sexual maturity at the age of two, and female Junchas go into heat once every six months. When they do, there’s a chance of inducing compatible males to go into rut, and the pairs are then mated for life. The females then carry their young for five months before giving birth. Each time, there’s a chance of having one to five young at a time.

Life cycle: When the infants are born, their eyes are closed, their body pink and furless. The membrane covering their eyes separates two weeks later, and fur will start to grow all over their bodies. During this time, the female stays with her young, relying on the male to bring them food. If their mate is dead, then another female would be obliged to perform this task. At birth, the infants measure around 30-40 cm in length and 20-30cm in height. When they hit sexual maturity at the age of two, most would have doubled in size, sometimes even tripled.

Full maturity is reached in another one or two years, depending on their diet, and if they have enough to eat. This is marked by the full growth of the side tusks in females and horns in males. The average lifespan of a Juncha is nine to ten years.

Accio Egypt (A Harry Potter Role Play)

I'll wait for a bit. If no one else posts then I will. 'Coz there's not much Killian can do right now besides answering Devin and getting on the carpet.

Mote

@Tenma Tendo I was going to interact with your character, but then I realised she's not near the Mote yet, so Evelio couldn't realistically interact this time. But I reckon @TMS Prime could in the next post? Maybe?

Mote

A momentary silence fell as the falcon didn't do more than flick it tail feathers in mild disdain, as though reprimanding Evelio for asking its opinion when it didn't care one bit about the blue-glowy rock surrounded by spinning trash. The man sighed aloud, shrugging a shoulder helplessly before returning his gaze to the Mote. Briefly, he wondered if throwing something with enough force inside the whirlwind could possibly knock something out. Or allow the thrown object to safely exit out the other side without falling victim to the mysterious force. HUmming lightly under his breath so the dreaded silence was broken, he cast his eye around the sandy ground for a small rock or something similar. Just as he was about to take a few steps around the Mote for a bit of jagged rock he spied picking out of a pile of dried seaweed, a voice called out to him.

Or at least he assumed it was him the voice was addressing, since he was the only other person on this coast. Maybe. being blind in one eye left quite a blind spot in one's vision, you know. And let it be known the existence of spirits and ghosts and other spectral beings were not impossible. Those who questioned it obviously needed to broaden their horizons! Or their brains. Either worked, really. Maybe eat more brain pie too? Hmm...would that work? Another trivial matter to discover.

Anyway, back the voice. Evelio straightened, leaning back and to the side slightly in order to see past the Mote and debris. Under the wane moonlight and illumination provided by the glowing rock, he could make out a young man hurrying forward. Only as he drew closer did Evelio realise the lad was holding both hands out, probably in a gesture of peace. Which made him wonder why the youth bothered to do so in the first place. Did he really look like someone who resorted to violence at first opportunity? Look, both of Evelio's hands weren't anywhere near his falchion at all!

Wide grin appearing on his face, the former Knight waved jauntily at the young man. "Why, hullo there, fellow sneak!" He paused for a second, pursing his lips in thought. "Hang on, no. I'm pretty sure I'm not a sneak, so the wording is improper. Let's see...lil' ole me is a wanderer, but you don't look like one, lad. So that leaves...ah ha! Appraiser? You're here to study this shiny mystery rock too, are you not?"

Lifting his left hand, he beckoned Griff over enthusiastically. "No worries lad, no worries. I'm mentally unstable, not senseless. I'd be even madder than I am now to try touching this lovely Mote here without some trials beforehand! Now come over, if you please. I don't bite, Knight's honour. Well, a former knight, but same difference. No guarantees for Ranger, though."

Not waiting to see if the lad followed his request, he was about to explain his idea about throwing a small but heavy debris with all his strength into the whirlwind to see if it could go out the other end when pitiful barking sounded. He blinked, then cackled uproariously as he spotted a little puppy whining as it was forcibly spun round and round the Mote. Oh, the face it was making! Who knew canines were capable of displaying such a pathetic pleading expression?

The Seven Deadly Sins [LF Lust and Sloth]

Click Me

Role: Holy Knight
Time/Date: Morning, Date...?
Location: The Valley of Wassen (the small hut is located behind the stream though, not before)
Mentions: Evelyn Caroline
Interaction: Allerion Zephra @NobodiesHero

Riding out in front of the small squad of soldiers, Arminel slouched slightly in his saddle, tuning out the constant background noise of hooves thumping dully on moist earth and fresh grass. Behind, the five soldiers had struck up conversation amongst them in order to stave away the mind-numbing boredom of travelling aimlessly across the land. Their voices were hushed but animated, chuckles unrestrained. Every now and again the Holy Knight would glance over his shoulder to make sure they were still focused on their set tasks, but other than that, he was content to leave them be. The soldiers his superior had allowed him to command over for the task of tracking down one Evelyn Caroline, missing princess of the Caroline Kingdom were fresh-faced youths, the oldest being twenty. They lacked the hardened attitude of veterans, and the aloofness of Holy Knights their age.

The five had been wary of Arminel when they had first been introduced, keeping up a stilted silence for the entire day and addressing him with formalities they were clearly forced to learn and remember. It was on the third day the youngest of them - a mere sixteen year old - could stand the silence no more, striking up a whispered conversation with another. The older woman shushed him in turn, tone terse as if anticipating a harsh reprimand from Arminel anytime soon. When the Holy Knight showed no sign of having heard them, the tension eased slightly and whispers started up once more. Arminel simply smiled to himself and allowed them to talk. The Knight they were previously under seemed to be a rather strict person, from Arminel's observations. The five were able to multi-task quite well, remaining focused and attentive even two weeks into eventless riding and camping. For normal soldiers of the Church, they were well-disciplined.

That thought sent amusement coursing through Arminel as he recalled the time he was sixteen. Granted, he had been training for this since he was a child, but it didn't mean he had been as efficient and skilled as he was now. A handful of dumb mistakes had been made, from not watching where he placed his feet to unknowingly sleeping on an anthill. His best friend Rion had always been the more careful of the two. The one who mercilessly prodded him to work when Arminel wanted to snooze in a corner. The one who caught minute-details Arminel overlooked. The one he could always trust to have his back.

Well, not anymore. He's not here now, is he?

Any mirth he felt instantly vanished, replaced by hurt, slight anger and deep confusion. Ten years they served together, fought together. They were all but blood brothers. And what did Rion do? Leave without saying a word. Without bothering to look for Arminel and inform him. A part of him understood and sympathised with Rion. The younger Knight had just lost the very person he gave his heart to. Had failed in fulfilling his vow of protecting her and their unborn child. Holy Knight or not, they were all mortals in the end, only human. Arminel didn't fault Rion for being mad from grief, after all, he himself had no room to talk regarding one's mental health. But he was furious at Rion for seeking to do everything alone. Why didn't he ask for help? Ever since Mana died, Rion was rarely around, refusing to talk to Arminel and share more than a curt sentence whenever they conversed. He hated that feeling of not being able to help, of being reduced to no more than a bystander. At times like this, he had no idea if the anger he felt was more directed towards himself or his best friend.

A few days after Rion was suspended did Arminel's raging emotions finally calmed. Seeing he was relatively back to normal, the Great Holy Knight had sent him off with the task of searching for the princess. He had accepted it immediately, grateful to have something to do. In addition, this also essentially gave him free reign to roam the lands beyond. White God willing, there will be a chance of stumbling upon his friend.

That was two weeks ago, and Arminel had plotted a path diverging from normal routes search parties typically took. Instead of heading through towns to probe for information and distribute wanted posters, he decided to head into the wilderness. After all, there were already more than enough soldiers within each city keeping an eye out for the princess. There was no need for his presence there. However, the wilderness...wide lands, lots of places to hide, fewer chances of bumping into ordinary citizens. Arminel didn't know if a sheltered princess like Evelyn would have the courage to trek through harsher environments, but if towns and cities didn't yield any results, where else could she be?

"Er...Sir?" A hesitant voice called out, followed by a light whinny as the mount's rider pulled it to a halt.

A light wrinkle between his brows forming even as he nudged his horse to wheel around, Arminel eyed the soldier who spoke. "What is it, Pangel?"

The soldier's gaze darted from him to the valley they were venturing into, then back again, sweat breaking out on his forehead. The stream they had halted a few meters away from gurgled merrily for a second or two before Pangel gathered up enough guts to speak again. "A-are we really going to be heading into...into the Valley of Wassen, Sir?"

Blinking at the slight quiver in the boy's tone, Arminel cocked his head to the side in puzzlement before comprehension dawned on his face. Right, wasn't there some stories about a witch or a demon living in these parts? He sighed, the corner of his lips pulling up in good humour. "Mere rumours wouldn't harm you, lad. The White God protects His servants." Maneuvering his mount so it drew level with the other, he clapped a hand twice against the soldier's back, sweeping a glance over the other four, two of whom were wearing the same superstitious look. "Stories to keep people away, like the Beast of Mt. Shirac. Its existence has been proven false. Now come, let's not linger and waste daylight. If a witch or demon truly lives here, then we'd best get out of the Valley before dusk, eh?"

Not waiting for further comments, he turned and cantered away, crossing the small bridge and towards the small wooden hut sitting forlornly to the right. No visible smoke rose from the chimney, no sounds could be heard from within. It appeared abandoned, but Arminel would bet his entire month's pay it wasn't, judging from the lack of weeds and vines surrounding the hut. Dismounting, he approached the residence cautiously, making sure his steps were as light as possible in order not to startle the inhabitants - if there were any. The windows were closed and curtains were drawn but a tap of his fingers against the door caused it to swing open slightly with a faint creak.

A glance over his shoulder and a gesture of his fingers signalled for the other five to surround the hut and block any possible escape routes. Alone, he pushed the door in a little more until it was wide enough for him to slip through. Ansgar in his hand, he held it loosely, blade pointed diagonally at the ground, but ready to strike if anything came at him. The interior was two rooms separated by sticks bounded together in a makeshift wall. The hall-slash-kitchen wasn't fully furnished, with a few fruits and vegetables in woven baskets sitting in a corner, a heap of straw in another, a low table sitting in the middle with two stools on either side. As he drew closer to the next room, faint shufflings and munching sounds could be heard. Tensing, he aligned his body to the flimsy wall and peered around the corner. The scene he was met with made his eyes widen. What in the world are these doing here?

What happened next could only be attributed to his bad luck.

One of the two infant Junchas - still pinkish but with tufts of fur littering its body - turned its head. There was no doubt it caught sight of Arminel. Man and beast froze, then the baby beast started crying out, a series of loud half-squeal half-snort erupting from its comparatively small body. It took only a second before the second Juncha joined in.

By that time, Arminel had already hightailed it out of the house, yelling for his men to ride for the other end of the valley even as he leapt on his horse and forced it into a full speed gallop. The two beasts were calling for its parents, and Arminel's squad of six weren't ready to face two fully grown Junchas. One would manageable, especially if he manages to wound it with his Arc, but not two. Here's to hoping one parent's dead.

The dreaded answering call echoed through the valley, and the stomps of a heavy beast running full-tilt drew closer and closer. Junchas were relatively big, but they weren't large enough to cause minute vibrations in the earth with each step, so the Knight could only rely on his hearing to pinpoint their location. Unfortunately, he didn't take into account the road in the left side of the valley, half hidden by trees and rock.

Oh shit, was his only thought as two mature Junchas pounced out of the side-road, missing an ashen-faced soldier to his left by an inch. Claws dug into soft earth as the Junchas landed, leaving deep furrows behind as momentum continued pushing it forward. They skidded to a halt, before bunching their muscles and leaping forth again. From what Arminel managed to glimpse, the one on the left was steel grey, the other a sandy brown. Even if he had no eyes on the back of his head, he could clearly hear the growls and thuds slowly gaining on the squad. All but one of his men was ahead, but Arminel wasn't too worried about Reid. The soldier was level with him, meaning he was still out of the beasts' reach.

Then Arminel's horse stumbled.

He hit the ground in a forward roll, coming up to a crouch, spear slashing out just in time to deter the brown male Juncha ready to pounce on him.

"Sir Blavier!"

Reid's yell attracted the attention of the grey one, but no matter how worried Arminel was for his men - they were normal soldiers without Arcs, how would he not fear for their lives - he cannot afford to be distracted, not even for a second. Eyes locked onto the Juncha circling warily around, he thrust his spear in a forward jab with a mid-strength razor wind. The beast agilely dodged both, but its new position allowed him to get another upwards slash in. This time, he managed to score a hit in the beast's right flank, a cut running diagonally from a little behind its foreleg to its back. Blood oozed from the wound, but it mustn't have been a deep or crippling one. Instead, the Juncha roared in rage and charged towards Arminel, head lowered in preparation to skewer the Knight through with its tusks.

Mote

I'll get a post up maybe tomorrow morning or night. At the meantime, fingers crossed someone else whose character's already approved is going to post too.
_{Here's to hoping Griff can keep up with Evelio's scatterbrain conversation.}

Dawson (A Wild West RP)

@Jones Sparrow You know I'm here already
Just waiting for things to move along more.

The Seven Deadly Sins [LF Lust and Sloth]

@NobodiesHero ...Did we have something planned? I don't quite remember. But we do have a convo on already when we're discussing our HK's relation, so I don't mind brainstorming stuff there, like Rion and Arminel meeting and sh*t going down.
If @Holy Soldier doesn't mind the two HKs interacting somewhere else with other things happening when the princess gathers the Sins.