Saltwater Thief

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

Apologies for the lack of response in the last couple days, I'm traveling and only have decent internet in certain places. I'll try and get Markus rolling soon!

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

@FailingForward Reposting this on Feisty's behalf, she says it's finished.

The Lion's Fang

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The Lion's Fang

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Minerva Fairchild

Age

19

Species

Human

Sexual Orientation

Heterosexual

Job

Minerva is a member of the Fairchild family line; in spite of being a black sheep of such, she is a noble and a Magi. She loves on the estate inherited from her father after his demise. Her family's specialty is in that of hunting down dark practitioners of magic.

Appearance

Minerva is a tall, lithe girl of nearly 5'9" in height or so. Regularly she wears clothes fit for a noble, but doesn't mind the more comfortable fashions of the commonfolk. What's most striking about her besides her appearance is that of the two cavalry sabers sheathed across the back of her waist in a neat "X". They are her weapons of choice, for Fairchild weaponry is of quality renown throughout the world and treasured my Magi, specifically. For inscribed upon their flat are runes meticulously crafted to enhance her magical abilities.

Her mark, which is in the shape of a small, abstract phoenix, is located upon the very bottom of her neck on her back.

Likes

• Swordfighting
• Children (Not hers)
• Challenging Trials/Missions
• Her Family (Except her Uncle)
• Sweets

Dislikes

• Bitter food
• People who can't contain their alcohol
• People named after birds
• Slow-witted folks
• Overzealously sour food

Personality

Minerva's personality is focused around being a sharp, pragmatic woman. Without hesitation she fiercely defends her beliefs, as well being more than ready to kill for them. Dangerously clever as she is powerful, she is known to be a brilliant strategist as well as a leader who charges with the front. After all, how could she ask her subordinates to do something she wouldn't? For the hand that casts judgment musn't be afraid of swinging the sword that exacts it.

Biggest Fear

She fears the idea that one day, despite all of her massive efforts, she will be cast out of the Fairchild family line. She has shed blood and tears alike for them...and for such efforts to be forgotten is worse than death.

Greatest Dream

To be held in reverence to the same degree her uncle and cousin are. They are the pilliars of their family, and Mknerva seeks to become one as well.

Background

The history of the Magi known as Minerva Fairchild is one of tribulations, triumph, and sorrow. Her early years were blind to her abilities when it came to magic. She lived alone with her mother, who did her best to raise her daughter despite being in poverty. Due to such, Minerva was humble, but with a razor wit that apparently her father had been known for.

It was a simple life, but one that she treasured. One which came crashing down when her mother fell ill with an incurable disease. Even still, they could not afford a doctor to relieve her of the pain she suffered. It was upon her deathbed that her mother gave the young Minerva of ten years a sketch, with a name written upon the back: William Fairchild, and an address beside it. With her final breaths, her mother instructed her to go to that address, and fall under the care of her uncle. A relative she had never even heard of, let alone meet.

Through rain, storm, misery and hunger did she venture after her mother finally passed, only to stand before a duet of towering, polished oak doors.

She knocked thrice times, the doors opened, and the world went dark.

She awoke in an opulent, elegantly decorated dining hall whoch stretched quite lengthily in both directions, to see a severe looking elderly man and a just as severe girl nearly her age staring at her. Questions were asked and answered, and it was determined that she was William's child who had been conceived without the family knowing. As such, she was given a mission.

To train and become a Magi, succeed, and then hunt down her father and kill him. For apparently shortly after her birth, he had gone rogue, killing dozens of fellow family members and magi along the way. If she wished to be accepted into the family, it was a mission she would have to finish.

For their suspicions proved true in her eighth week of training--she had inherited her father's magic: the Ultimate Eye. Where most magi's power was externalized by the slinging of elements towards their adversary, William's progeny had inherited the specialized way in which his magic acted. It would internalize, lacing his form throughout with raw strength, and heightened awareness. Eyes would become filled with crackling white light, and rather abruptly she would be able to move at inhuman speeds nigh inperceivable except for the most well trained eye.

Once she had finished mastering such an art, she went on the hunt. In her fifteenth year of life, after two years of training and three years of searching; she found him. She demanded answers first, why he had abandoned her and her mother--but received none. Instead, he spoke of his plan to olunge the world's magi into a chaotic and costly war--and he wanted her, his daughter, to help him.

She refused, and a daughter crossed swords with her father. Those who were an audience became terrified at the ferocity of their strife, as the two became naught but blurs, and the sound of steel striking steel occurred at a rapid fire pace. Yet in the end, as he wounded his child, William Fairchild would find her sword plunged into his heart--and his reign of terror at an end.

After her recovery, Minerva found herself inheriting his estate, his amassed wealth and the like--alongside begrudging acceptance from her uncle. Where now, as a nineteen year old noble, she lives mostly alone.

Personality Questions

1. The death of her mother.
2. She believes in the mark, but she does not think another wi truly love her. She is at the festival to begrudgingly provide security for other curious family members at the behest lf her uncle.
3. Phoenix--hence her marking. For she rose from the ashes of her mother's death to become something incredible.
4. Defeat of her father, and her magic.
5. The fact she couldn't help her mother.
6. Her pride and her service to her family.
7. Her constant loneliness.
8. A clever wit, commitment, and the ability to make her laigh despite oft being soberingly somber.

Extra

Color Code: Red
Theme song: If you like.
Face Claim: If applicable.

Finished!

@Feisty-Pants

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

Markus Corvis

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Markus Corvis

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Markus Corvis

Age

19

Species

Human

Gender

Male

Sexual Orientation

Heterosexual

Job

Though technically the son of a noble family, the Corvis family is matrilineal and therefor his sister Kryssa holds the position of head of house. Markus helps her look after the estate, often serving as her direct agent in situations that demand it, and in between such obligations he fancies himself a traveling thrill seeker.

Appearance

Stands at 6'6" tall. Usually wears wool clothes with some bits of leather armor. He carries a pair of shortswords on his back, but rarely draws them.

His mark depicts a leaping tiger curled into a half moon shape on his left side where his neck meets his shoulder.

Likes

• Runes
• Birds
• Coffee
• Starry Night Skies
• The sound of a whetstone on a blade

Dislikes

• Losing fights
• Seeing his sister get hurt
• Rainy days
• Betrayal
• The feeling that he's never good enough

Personality

Markus has two layers to his persona. The first, the one that the rest of the world sees, is that of a dashing noble rogue. A cunning gleam in his eyes and sharp wit in his mind, never caught flat footed or at a loss, and ever quick with a sharp remark or retort. Those that have worked with him might speak of boundless confidence and palpable bravado, and of his willingness to take on any challenge presented to him. And, of course, they'd mention the playful smile that almost never leaves his face. In truth, however, this layer is but a carefully crafted mask and facade.

In actuality, Markus has only so much self esteem and faith in his own self, and he painstakingly constructed his roguish image for the sake of appearing strong for those around him- namely his little sister, so she might think her burden lessened. He's spent his life growing into that role on the stage, and while it has succeeded magnificently at illusioning the world, the result is he has very few people around whom he permits himself to be vulnerable. One day perhaps, he tells himself, he'll be strong enough to drop the mask and not be ashamed of what is underneath. But until then, he keeps smiling.

Biggest Fear

Markus fears losing his will to keep going more than anything. Often times it's all he has, so if he loses it... what then?

Greatest Dream

Markus dreams of one day becoming someone to be proud of. For Kryssa, or anybody that makes him a part of their life to be proud to say they do so. But most of all to be proud of himself.

Background

In the expansive highlands in the northwest of Andour, the land is divided and presided over by a number of noble families, each one subservient to the Crown but tasked with handling affairs in their province. One such family is the Corvis, who are perhaps most notable for being matrilineal; the eldest daughter inherits name and title, while sons often father branches of the family, are wed to younger daughters of other families, or in rare cases strike out on their own. Markus is one such son, born to Cordelia and Jerome Corvis as their first child. Four years after he was joined by his little sister Kryssa, who of course would be seeded above him in all things, but his parents had every intention of seeing to Markus's well being and raising him properly. Unfortunately, such plans were dashed when Cordelia suddenly took gravely ill and passed away, leaving her children motherless at a young age. Jerome did his very best to manage things in the wake of her passing, and sound instruction he gave them. But he was, after all, an older man, and the years and the sorrow all too clearly took their toll.

One night, in the dead of winter, when Markus was of fourteen summers and Kryssa ten, he awoke one night to the sound of sobbing. stepping from bed and seeking the source, he found it in Jerome's room where Kryssa kneeled, tightly grasping their father's hand in her palms and waging a long lost war against her own tears. Death had taken him quietly in the night, and now the siblings only had one another. Something inside Markus wanted to break, to sunder itself and give in to his grief... but something else forced him to stay strong. Something else told him he had to be strong and hold fast, for Kryssa's sake. And so he was. He went to her, held her tightly, and silently grieved with her through the night. But he did not, would not allow himself to cry. Not there, not in front of her.

Years passed, and brother and sister remained closely knit. Kryssa poured her everything into her studies, insatiably learning all she could to become a worthy matriarch, and Markus as well gave his everything toward supporting her and bettering himself. He studied literature, diplomacy, swordplay and hand to hand combat, and even spent some time learning to draw and utilize magical runes. When he wasn't serving as Kryssa's right hand man he was traveling, seeing everything he could and finding new things to marvel at.

One thing he has never done, however, is take part in the Festival of Destiny. Not that he had anything against it, he just never felt the time was right. Kryssa, however, had often asked him about it. This year she wasn't permitting him to brush it off, and has insisted that he go. "I'm a grown young woman now Markus," she said, "I can manage things here for a week. Now no more objections, you are going. Who knows, you may even find your soul mate while you're there!" And, well, that was that.

Personality Questions

1. What is their worst specific memory from childhood? Waking up to find Kryssa weeping over their father's body.
2. What do they think of being Marked? Do they believe in it? Have they come to the festival in search of love, or for some other reason? He could hardly care less about the Mark, but Kryssa buys into it entirely and practically shoved him out the door this year.
3. Spirit animal? Falcon.
4. Thing they’re most proud of? How far he's come.
5. Thing they’re most ashamed of? How far he still has to go.
6. What motivates them? His desire to find his place in the world.
7. What would they change about themselves if they could? More genuine confidence.
8. What’s most important in a romantic partner? Trust & belief in one another

Extra

Color Code: 0072bc
Theme song: Foo Fighters, The Best of You

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

And here we are. btw, Feisty-Pants is the friend I mentioned.

CS Skeleton

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Markus Corvis

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Markus Corvis

Age

19

Species

Human

Gender

Male

Sexual Orientation

Heterosexual

Job

Though technically the son of a noble family, the Corvis family is matrilineal and therefor his sister Kryssa holds the position of head of house. Markus helps her look after the estate, often serving as her direct agent in situations that demand it, and in between such obligations he fancies himself a traveling thrill seeker.

Appearance

Stands at 6'6" tall. Usually wears wool clothes with some bits of leather armor. He carries a pair of shortswords on his back, but rarely draws them.

His mark depicts a leaping tiger curled into a half moon shape on his left side where his neck meets his shoulder.

Likes

• Runes
• Birds
• Coffee
• Starry Night Skies
• The sound of a whetstone on a blade

Dislikes

• Losing fights
• Seeing his sister get hurt
• Rainy days
• Betrayal
• The feeling that he's never good enough

Personality

Markus has two layers to his persona. The first, the one that the rest of the world sees, is that of a dashing noble rogue. A cunning gleam in his eyes and sharp wit in his mind, never caught flat footed or at a loss, and ever quick with a sharp remark or retort. Those that have worked with him might speak of boundless confidence and palpable bravado, and of his willingness to take on any challenge presented to him. And, of course, they'd mention the playful smile that almost never leaves his face. In truth, however, this layer is but a carefully crafted mask and facade.

In actuality, Markus has only so much self esteem and faith in his own self, and he painstakingly constructed his roguish image for the sake of appearing strong for those around him- namely his little sister, so she might think her burden lessened. He's spent his life growing into that role on the stage, and while it has succeeded magnificently at illusioning the world, the result is he has very few people around whom he permits himself to be vulnerable. One day perhaps, he tells himself, he'll be strong enough to drop the mask and not be ashamed of what is underneath. But until then, he keeps smiling.

Biggest Fear

Markus fears losing his will to keep going more than anything. Often times it's all he has, so if he loses it... what then?

Greatest Dream

Markus dreams of one day becoming someone to be proud of. For Kryssa, or anybody that makes him a part of their life to be proud to say they do so. But most of all to be proud of himself.

Background

In the expansive highlands in the northwest of Andour, the land is divided and presided over by a number of noble families, each one subservient to the Crown but tasked with handling affairs in their province. One such family is the Corvis, who are perhaps most notable for being matrilineal; the eldest daughter inherits name and title, while sons often father branches of the family, are wed to younger daughters of other families, or in rare cases strike out on their own. Markus is one such son, born to Cordelia and Jerome Corvis as their first child. Four years after he was joined by his little sister Kryssa, who of course would be seeded above him in all things, but his parents had every intention of seeing to Markus's well being and raising him properly. Unfortunately, such plans were dashed when Cordelia suddenly took gravely ill and passed away, leaving her children motherless at a young age. Jerome did his very best to manage things in the wake of her passing, and sound instruction he gave them. But he was, after all, an older man, and the years and the sorrow all too clearly took their toll.

One night, in the dead of winter, when Markus was of fourteen summers and Kryssa ten, he awoke one night to the sound of sobbing. stepping from bed and seeking the source, he found it in Jerome's room where Kryssa kneeled, tightly grasping their father's hand in her palms and waging a long lost war against her own tears. Death had taken him quietly in the night, and now the siblings only had one another. Something inside Markus wanted to break, to sunder itself and give in to his grief... but something else forced him to stay strong. Something else told him he had to be strong and hold fast, for Kryssa's sake. And so he was. He went to her, held her tightly, and silently grieved with her through the night. But he did not, would not allow himself to cry. Not there, not in front of her.

Years passed, and brother and sister remained closely knit. Kryssa poured her everything into her studies, insatiably learning all she could to become a worthy matriarch, and Markus as well gave his everything toward supporting her and bettering himself. He studied literature, diplomacy, swordplay and hand to hand combat, and even spent some time learning to draw and utilize magical runes. When he wasn't serving as Kryssa's right hand man he was traveling, seeing everything he could and finding new things to marvel at.

One thing he has never done, however, is take part in the Festival of Destiny. Not that he had anything against it, he just never felt the time was right. Kryssa, however, had often asked him about it. This year she wasn't permitting him to brush it off, and has insisted that he go. "I'm a grown young woman now Markus," she said, "I can manage things here for a week. Now no more objections, you are going. Who knows, you may even find your soul mate while you're there!" And, well, that was that.

Personality Questions

1. What is their worst specific memory from childhood? Waking up to find Kryssa weeping over their father's body.
2. What do they think of being Marked? Do they believe in it? Have they come to the festival in search of love, or for some other reason? He could hardly care less about the Mark, but Kryssa buys into it entirely and practically shoved him out the door this year.
3. Spirit animal? Falcon.
4. Thing they’re most proud of? How far he's come.
5. Thing they’re most ashamed of? How far he still has to go.
6. What motivates them? His desire to find his place in the world.
7. What would they change about themselves if they could? More genuine confidence.
8. What’s most important in a romantic partner? Trust & belief in one another

Extra

Color Code: 0072bc
Theme song: Foo Fighters, The Best of You

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

@FailingForward
So, I may be getting a friend of mine that I RPed with for years to join this with me. Would you be open to pre-arranged partnerships in that regard?

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

Thinking of a character concept now. Should have the sheet submitted by tomorrow.

The Festival of Destiny (High Casual Fantasy Romance)

One question- how do the soulmates come into play? As in, if I make a character, is my soul mate another PC, an NPC, is that something that gets figured out as we go...?

The Festival of Destiny (Fantasy Soulmate RP)

I'm intrigued.

What Hero Wants to Die? - An Inverted Isekai

I'm willing to see how it goes.

What Hero Wants to Die? - An Inverted Isekai

Quiet.

It wasn't something Edward was used to. Noise had followed him wherever he had gone since he'd been a boy. But not here. Here the silence was eerie, almost oppressive. Or maybe that was just his ears still ringing from the final detonation. No, on second thought it was definitely just utterly soundless in here. And for that matter there was no color in the walls or ceiling either.

"Hello?" he called as he sat up from the floor where he lay. His voice echoed as though he were in an empty concert hall, but no reply came. Was this the afterlife, then? He certainly died, there was no getting around that, he thought as he rose to his feet. As he looked around, he realized why his voice had echoed so- the room was and empty concert hall, the one he'd performed in on many occasions. But it wasn't quite the same, and it wasn't just the paintjob that told him that.

"What's going on here?" he asked to nobody. To his surprise, a knock from one of the backstage doors answered him. Out of shock he whirled around and, on pure instinct made to call Lucy to his hands- and to his further surprise she came, appearing out of thin air. But something wasn't quite right. He could feel no power within her, felt that he would not be able to use her to wield the sound, at least not yet. Still, his guitar's presence in his hands was a comfort, and he began to slowly stride toward the door. Which, he only noticed as he got closer, had a knob instead of its typical pushbar.

"Something is definitely weird here," Edward said warily, "And damn if I'm not going to find out what!" he declared as he grabbed the knob and flung wide the door...!