Sightles

Beyond Death's Veil (Sightles and Natural Mess)

"....I crashed my car into the bridge. I watched, I let it burn. I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs. I crashed my car into the bridge. I don't care, I love it. I don't care....."

All three occupants of the 1997 Monte Carlo sang along in various pitches, doing small jigs while sitting in the speeding vehicle. The work day had been long, but none of that matter, as it was the long-awaited day of Friday. Alcohol hung in the stagnant air of the car, a clear sign that all three of them were intoxicated. As bad as a decision this was, none of that matter to the driver; a man named Lewis Lander.

It was barely 9 o'clock, and Lewis was already well into being 'smashed', a way he coped with the indescribable and nearly unbearable pain of his day-to-day existence at this point. With the pains of sobriety well beyond the grasp of his inebriated perception, he sang all to the song along with his two co-workers. It wasn't long before the trio's debauchery was interrupted by tragedy.

Lewis never saw the stop sign, but he did see the car. Alas, it was well too late, though. Lewis was going nearly 80mph as he slammed on the brakes, the headlights of another car catching his peripheral vision. Time seemed to slow down for the young man, as he grasped the steering wheel with both palms. In a matter of seconds, Lewis' life changed forever. The joy that was transpiring only moments before, now seemed years in the past, as terror and horror possessed the intoxicated man. The last thing Lewis remembered was seeing the face of the driver before he hit, his headlights illuminating the face of the all too young girl; not ready for the speeding machine of death that was careening towards her. Then, everything was black.

Time passed, Lewis felt no pain, but he knew he was 'alive', in a sense. He could not see, but he could definitely hear. He could hear the booming words, rebounding across his entire being, issuing a set of instructions. He was to be a 'guide' of sorts. It took an immense amount of time, at least to Lewis, to understand what had happened. Eventually, the shell of the what once was the young man managed to piece it together. He had died in that wreck, near instantly, and was now in limbo. The instructions that were repeated over and over was that he was going to return to the world of the living, and become the 'guide' of a girl, the one whom he had stricken with tragedy. As time passed, Lewis gleamed more information on what had happened. He had killed a girl's sister, and now he was going to be sent to watch over the girl, in order to redeem himself.

More time passed, and Lewis received more details about his mission. This would be his only chance to be able to escape the hell that was limbo. Eventually, through the booming voice, he learned the girl's name, where she lived, even how she was fairing in life without her sister. Just as it seemed that Lewis was about to go insane after the considerable amount had passed, he felt his entire being shake with an ungodly shock of pain.

Vision, smell, hearing. It was all back. He stood in the middle of a semi-dark street. The sun had just set, it seemed. Lewis glanced around, taking his new surroundings where trying to get used to be 'alive' again. He stood in front of the yard of a relatively nice house with an empty driveway. As Lewis went to take a step, trying to remember if the instructions he had received were a joke, and if it had all been a dream, when he realized he wasn't necessarily 'standing'. Lewis floated roughly two feet in the air, and it started to dawn on the young man that this was all very real.

~ Well, I guess I really am going to be some sort of spirit guide. ~ Even in his thoughts, the skepticism broke through. Looking up from the ground and towards the house, Lewis wondered how exactly he would go about explaining the situation to the girl, ~ Hey! Remember the drunk driver who totally merced your sister? Well, here I am! I'm going to be your personal spirit guide! ~ Lewis wondered how insane the sentence would sound when said aloud.

Instead of answering the door, like a normal person, Lewis decided to take advantage of his floating ability. Without much more hesitation, figuring the more he pondered on the situation the more likely he'd go insane himself, he floated up to a second story window, that appeared to have a light on. Peering inside, Lewis tried to make head or tails of the contents of the room, unaware how he might look committing such a action.

Beyond Death's Veil (Sightles and Natural Mess)

Name: Lewis Lander

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Appearance: Lewis is a tall individual, standing about 6'4'' and weighing about 185lbs. While not particularly muscled, Lewis does bear a little bit of sinew beneath his pale white skin. Resting atop is his head is an angular fringe style haircut, blonde with a streak of black in the front, a type of fashion statement. His hair matches well with his almost jade-like green eyes that pierce out from beneath his fringe, almost with a sense of anger as if to attack the person they make eye contact with. From his shoulder, down to his wrist, Lewis keeps a sleeve of many different tattoos, varying styles and depictions. While some are meaningful, most were done on a whim, as by what they depict. It's difficult to make one a single image, due to the layers and complexity in which Lewis has gone about adding every image. Ironically, across Lewis' chest, right under the collar bones, is a tattoo that reads 'Forever Young' in stencil lettering. Another piece of accessory on the young man is two black plugs he has on either ear.

Clothing: Lewis' clothing choice is relatively simple. Opting for a blue flannel shirt, that is constantly unbuttoned, coupled with a grey v-neck t-shirt. As for pants, Lewis wears dark blue jeans, that hug slightly close to his figure. Donning white Converse high-tops, with black laces, Lewis' clothing choice is considered somewhat different, but man seems entirely confident in the way he dresses, and seems to take a certain pride to his styling choice.

Personality: The first trait most notice about Lewis is his jadedness, that seems to have an endless pool to draw from. This, duoed with the skill to detach himself from almost any emotional connection, has proven to limit himself in the way of friends. Despite this, Lewis manages to have some sense of humor in situations, providing small quips and teases at those he deems a little too serious about petty subjects, or those he thinks are blinded to the, what he sees as, the truth of the situation. Lewis does have a side of anger, which he is skilled at keeping under control and hiding underneath his surface, but it's obvious that becoming angry is something the man wishes to avoid at almost any cost.

History: Lewis had a more than rough childhood. Growing up without a father, or other siblings, it was mainly himself and his mother against the world. This can be one of the main contributing causes to Lewis' jaded view of the world, having to grow up far more quickly than any other child around him. Days were spent doing chores, helping his mother, preparing meals, and keeping up with his studies. While considered a problem child throughout school by teachers and students a like, Lewis always kept his grades up, always holding a near perfect average. Once high school came, Lewis' partying grew out of control, often causing physical damage to property and even committing petty theft. Once more, despite this, Lewis always kept his grades and managed to graduate as valedictorian. Going to a small college on a scholarship, Lewis eventually had to move back home, as his mother started to grow ill. Colleges dreams tossed away, Lewis spent his days working as a clerk at a local store, carrying for his mother, and partying whenever he could. It wasn't long before Lewis' eventually made the mistake of drinking and driving one fateful night while with two of his better friends. Crashing into a car, after running a stop sign he never saw, Lewis died on impact, leaving behind his life of partying and his ill mother.

Beyond Death's Veil (Sightles and Natural Mess)

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Between the Elms

The trip had been a dour one, but that did little to dampen the high spirits John was currently in. Looking through the carriage window, he could see increasingly closer Geltreis, bringing a bright grin to the man's face. Despite what he had been advised, and despite what would be considered the best course of action, John had given the order for the carriage to go through the town. He had wanted to stop in the market, and check around, but most of all he wanted to be seen. Either through the House of Affairs, or the rumors of those who had been to Geltreis, he had heard the disgusting things that occur in the streets of the distressed town, especially to those that tout the support of the Empire. John, however, believed that if he was to make himself seen and even browse the shops to buy, and visit with the townspeople, it'd be seen as an act of goodwill. John detested the secrecy recommended to him for this mission, as it would only cause further mistrust and damage to the relations between Geltreis and Arcartus. John knew, though, he the gesture could possibly be lost on the townspeople, as he would be arriving in two carriages, of rather good quality. John had learned long ago that the common people could always find time to hate those that were better off, consumed in their own hatred and jealously. He would have to overcome this if he was to make the right impression on the people. Shutting the carriage window, John sank back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment of relaxed meditation before they entered the marketplace.

Jacob eyed the town of Geltreis from atop of his trotting mare, sizing the town up in a few grim glances. Even though they were only a short distance from their destination, Jacob felt more distress than enjoyment. They were to enter the town, along with their small Royal Arcarti Scout detail, on the demands of John, whom was more worried about his appearance than he was his safety. Jacob had no doubt the small gesture made by John would go unappreciated, and possibly could even be turned against him to demonize him. Jacob had refused to speak out against this order, though. He was simply a bodyguard, and John was the charge. As the two carriages, entered the town, Jacob could already feel the eyes of Geltreis upon him. Confusion, fear, and hatred. Jacob could see all three in the faces as they entered the town. Eventually, the carriages found a lot to pull into, to allow John his tour of the town. It appeared as if they weren't from far the marketplace, which would make sense as Geltreis was famous for the fact that it was a trade highway. Jacob slowly slumped off his mare, tying it to the rear of one of the carriages, and awaited his cousin to exit the carriage and carry on with his charade.

Between the Elms

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Between the Elms

Name: John Preston

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Faction: Empire of Arcartus

Appearance: John is a statue of near physical perfection. Standing roughly 6'2'', and weighing 190lbs, John is covered in muscles. Given, these muscles are nearly all 'glamour' muscles, being much more for show than for practical use. Falling down in locks onto his shoulders, John possesses a wonderful blonde head of hair, slightly curled at the ends, and always taken care of. Piercing blue eyes complete the Preston image, becoming the stereotypical Preston heir, rich in physical features and in personal wealth. A constant shadow of a growing beard adorns Preston's face, giving his otherwise soft face a bit of ruggedness to it, and also adding to his already considerable sex appeal. Preston's body language on the surface is that of a man whom is always relaxed, but also always seems to be in control of a situation.

Clothes/Armor: Preston only wears the finest clothes he can. Too often is his casual evening wear is what most considered to be extravagant formal wear. Normally preferring his soft shell pink three piece suit, along with a wicker boater hat with a red band around the base, along with black and white dress loafers, his clothing can vary in a range that impresses even the most fashionable of individuals, often packing entire carriages full of clothing in order to prepare his wardrobe. Preston opts out of wearing any type of protection on his personal, instead opting for the more fashionable spectrum of the clothing plane. Despite his heavy emphasis on looking great, which causes the most composed to wither in the sun in such clothing, Preston never seems to sweat or ever tire of his clothing, always looking like perfection.

Weapons: Preston carries no such protection on his person, preferring to simply keep his bodyguard close to himself. Normally picking a group of 10 or so men from his estate's guard detail, Preston has instead opted for a more simple form of personal protection, which is his older cousin.

Personality: Preston considers himself a worldly person, despite lacking the inherent intelligence usually associated with such sophistication. While not dim, Preston averages around the norm with intelligence, despite being well-known as a successful businessman. Preston is also the most accommodating of individuals, and excels in personal diplomacy, quickly making friends and smoothing over slights. Speaking often frivolously, and using words he may not actually know the meaning of, it's almost obvious once one personally knows Preston that he was trained to act and speak this way, instead of actually learning it. Good natured, and intent on being known as a good person who uses his influence and power for good causes, he was, however, instilled with the national pride common in the Preston family, and will commit any act for the betterment of his nation.

History: The Preston family is as old as the nation of Arcartus, and have always been the most shrewd of businessmen. While the stretches of the Preston family can even be found digging into the pockets of the corner candy store, the main source of income comes from more violent businesses. Possessing a near monopoly on the production of cannons, and having a small part in the making of cannonballs, along with the harvesting of hard minerals, the Preston wealth borders are unimaginable. While not being nobles in the traditional sense, the Preston family certainly acts the part. The patriarch of the Preston family is expected to serve a minimum of 2 years in the Arcarti military, while also being a beacon of professional nature, and the paramount gentleman. Patriotic tendencies run deep with the Preston family, with it passing to it's newest members easily. The Preston's seat of power is the Preston Estate, also known as Preston Peak, which rests on a mountain range outside of the capital of Arcartus. The Estate covers nearly 2,000 acres, has a servile staff of nearly 100, a guard staff of roughly 80. Most of the Preston family, distant cousins and close relatives alike, house at the Estate. The Preston family often entertains both Arcarti and foreign royalty and dignities at the estate on a daily basis.

John was born into this life of luxury, raised to be a gentleman and man of duty. Serving in the Arcarti military for 2 years during a conflict known as the Lachne Civil War, he gained some insight into military matters, and soon became intensely in love with the fanfare that was the military. After ending his brief term in the Arcarti State Military, John returned home to find that his father was sick, and was on the verge of death. Quickly taking over matters and becoming the new patriarch of the Preston family, it wasn't long before his father passed. Now 29, and has been the patriarch of the Preston family for 5 years, John is seen as yet another vicious Preston businessman, but the truth couldn't be farther from this fairytale. Unlike other Preston's, John has left the business side of the family into the hands of his mother and other family members, and has focused once more on serving his nation. Serving as a tried and true diplomat, meeting with and establishing friendship with the most esteemed of guests, John has proved his worth. Time spent at his estate is short, only there to throw a party for guests, or for a quick respite before going back to serve his nation. Despite his mild philanthropy and waiving his payment from the Arcarti government for his services, terrible and vicious rumors spread about the young and wealthy man, often giving himself a bad reputation.

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Name: Jacob Preston

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Faction: Empire of Arcartus

Appearance: Jacob is a large man - tall, broad shouldered and sinewy. While not being particularly unattractive, he is also not considered as handsome as the normal Preston. Jacob has baby blue eyes. His balding hair bares only the shortest of pitch black hair, with the fringes bearing lifting off his skull, and a close-cropped beard across his large jaw. His face has a tightness to it like cured leather, and he has hollow cheeks. He has thin, pale lips. Jacob towers in conversations, but tells how reserved he really is with his body language, preferring to put distance between himself and those he talks to.

Clothing/Armor: Jacob much prefers protection to increased mobility, and this shows through his normal garb. Even in casual settings, Jacob doesn't often remove his armor, which comprises of several pieces. Wearing a set of splint mail with heavy-set plate pieces that gleam in the sun. Even in sunny weather, which is thankfully rarer in the mountains, Jacob can be found wearing his black leather coat, which reaches down past his knees, keeping it undone in the middle. Plates placed into small holes in the fabric also have added a small amount of protection to Jacob, without causing much more noise. Underneath the splint mail, Jacob wears thick hard leather long sleeved tunic, along with the same for his legs. Heavy mailed boots are also part of the armored Jacob, giving him even more protection. The equipment he wears speaks for itself when it comes to it's quality, as it looks as if he had never been worn, with only a few marks bearing the sign of any type of use. Putting the entire ensemble together, is Jacob's thick leather gloves, which he leaves untied.

Weapons: Jacob is armed to the teeth for the typical Arcarti warrior. Immediately noticed is his longsword that hangs off his side, the scabbard almost marking the ground as he walks, which bears a brown leather handle with a gold pommel. The pommel itself has an inlaid ruby, giving the sword some flair to it. The blade itself is that of a normal Arcarti long sword, although it's obviously of the highest quality the nation has to offer. Besides the long sword, Jacob keeps a dirk by his side. The dirk itself, which Jacob is fond of using in combat, is simplistic, and almost barbaric in design. The cruel blade tips upward at the very point, and the hilt itself it made from a polished bull's horn. It rests in a black scabbard, near his groin. Inside both his mailed boots, Jacob has two daggers, which have slightly extended hilts, nearly poking about the lip of his mailed boot. Finally, Jacob keeps a short sword, which rests in a sideways sheath, across the bottom of his back, allowing easy access during battle.

Personality: Jacob is a serious, stubborn, rarely-forgiving man with a strong sense of duty. He neither dissembles nor flatters, causing him to become one of the more socially incompetent Preston's. Not many emotions are known to Jacob, with not much phasing past his hard exterior. Famous in the Arcarti State Military for never giving up, and always adapting to his situation, Jacob is a man who would sooner die on a field in the middle of nowhere, rather than flee. This type of attitude shouldn't be considered with honor, however, as Jacob has little of it. Jacob instead fights to the bitter end as part of his stubborn nature, refusing to bend. During conversation, Jacob will often remain silent, or offer simple nods or basic answers to those that question him, leaving one feeling as if Jacob disliked them. However, Jacob treats every person he comes across like this, only offering the most simple of answers.

History: Jacob is a close cousin to John Preston, being a nephew to John's father. This led to the two of them spending much time growing up together. While the two never got along, Jacob also protected John when things would turn sour. Either it be from a bully or animal on the estate, Jacob dealt with the problems, often brutally, and at a young age. It was almost destiny that Jacob was meant to serve John for the rest of their days. Mastering the sword as well as any new solider could, Jacob was considered a better warrior than most foot soldiers in the military by the age of 14, spending most his days training and learning the Arcarti doctrines for war. Instead of serving the normal two years that is expected of a Preston, Jacob joined when he was 16 and didn't retire until he was 31, leaving a decorated and bloody trail in his wake. Known for ruthless fighting and even more ruthless leading, Jacob fought in a number of heavy engagements, and eventually retired as a captain, even though he could of risen farther, however such an increase in rank would prevent Jacob of being where he most loved - in the vanguard of engagements. After retiring, Jacob returned back to the Preston Estate, prepared to serve his family as dutifully as he had served his country. John instated Jacob as Head of Security of the Preston Estate, and often brought the captain on any journey he made. For three years, Jacob has served as Preston Peak's security captain, and as John's personal bodyguard.

Beyond the Desert Sands [Fantasy] [Closed+Canceled]

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