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    1. Wisp 11 yrs ago

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hey!! i'm wisp!!!
if there are supers involved (or even just super powers) i'm 100% down for rping it.



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The GuΓ©rison Church came quickly into Picard's sights, despite his wish for the journey to take longer. It was in the middle of the nearest city to the castle, and there were often orphans running about. In the morning hours, many people were just starting their days, though there was certainly less of a bustle here than he'd seen in the farming towns. They were earlier risers, though more people were in the streets here, as they weren't working out in fields. The townspeople were carefree, and Picard greeted those he passed with a kind smile and nod. His clothes clearly set him apart as an aristocrat, and while it garnered some strange looks, the direction he was heading in spoke for itself. He wished that the bishop was stationed at Saint Raphael Cathedral rather than the GuΓ©rison Church, but a wish was not enough to change his trip into the city.

As he approached the church, Picard took notice of the man on the steps, gazing out onto the streets with an unreadable expression. Slowing his approach, Picard gathered his courage and reminded himself that his secret had gone undiscovered long enough. There was no reason for him to fear discovery now - it wasn't like the man could sense he was an angel, after all. Though he felt no guilt for not aiding in Cain's plight, Picard certainly feared the repercussions of discovery. Having steadied himself, he sped up his approach once more, stepping up to stand beside the familiar bishop. He clasped his hands behind his back, facing the brunette with a kind expression.

"King Valentine has requested your presence at the castle, Father Argus," Picard informed him, green gaze steady on the bishop. "He wishes to speak with you and Princess Cordelia in his study."



"Of course," Auberon told his sister, "the kingdom of Raphael has been nothing short of kind to us."

Before their conversation could continue, Hadrian and Olifina entered the room, bowing politely before the monarchs. The more somber tone Adeline had used with him was raised - a front, Auberon was sure - and a more cheerful one took its place. She informed the pair that the discussion would begin soon, and for the gathered parties to take a seat. Pulling a chair around to be nearer to his sister, the monarch sat himself down with a patient look on his face. As this was his sister's meeting, he would not sit directly beside her, but his chair was beside her desk, angled so that he could view both her and the servants she had gathered.

"This should be quick enough - we won't take much of your time," the dark-haired king told the pair, hands folded in his lap.

Shortly after, a knock announced what seemed to be the final party - he assumed that no one else had been summoned, lest they be rather late. He swore he saw a flash of blue outside the room, one that could only belong to their baby sister, but Auberon hoped that Rancor had spoken with her about trying to eavesdrop. Without their parents here to guide her, it was not only up to Adeline and Auberon to raise the child, but the rest of the castle as well. From what he had observed, his sister did not do well with rearing children, but he himself had more practice in doing so, being Serenity's favourite of the twins. Turning his attention back to Adeline but keeping an eye on the door, he told himself he would interfere only if the child didn't find something else to do other than lurk outside the door. She was only a child, after all, and didn't need to worry herself with politics or threatening tension between the kingdoms.



With a quick glance about the hall to ensure that no one aside from himself and Lenore was present, Ichabod let an easy smile slide onto his face at her praise. She was really the one that had done the most work, organizing the masses and locating areas of weakness in the seal to be focused on. All he did was protect her from those who sought to overthrow her as archbishop and raise those who had fallen in their efforts to break the seal. Some were not salvageable, but they were easily disposed of with Lenore's flames. There was an isolated part of the Sheol Cathedral specifically for this purpose, as unlike the demon who had cursed her, Lenore was not capable of controlling the flames she produced.

"I'm merely here to guide and aid you, your Grace," he told her honestly, aware of the kindness slipping into his tone. "Especially if it means utilizing my natural born ability."

The smile fell from his face a moment later, a blank expression taking its place, as the sound of footsteps came from down the hall. Since the kingdom had been sealed, the people within it had become more cutthroat. Whereas before being honest to one's emotions was a pinnacle of the kingdom, it was now considered - as it was in other kingdoms, he was sure - a sign of weakness. They had to be careful, to wear masks and flaunt their strengths. But were one to flaunt too much, they could be seen as a threat. It was a careful balancing act that had to be done, but Ichabod had had plenty of time to master it. Given her age, Lenore was doing exceptional with it as well. He couldn't be prouder, as little as he was able to express it.

"Do you think his Majesty has more important matters to attend to?" Ichabod asked Lenore quietly, wary of anyone eavesdropping.
@SleepingSilence
Honestly, I'm not seeing the complication. People shouldn't relying on interacting with their own characters - sometimes it's unavoidable, but we all have other characters we can interact with. Aside from the fact that I post for all of my characters in a single post, I counted the interaction between Picard and Cordelia as Picard's post, and Cordelia's post just continued off of it. So there was no problem with having my two characters interact and it therefore doesn't "cripple" me or "literally take forever". It's a simple solution - the dialogue is restricted to a single character's post, since they're your own characters and you're not waiting on anyone else. Then you move on with the rest of your post for that character!
@SleepingSilence
By "the end of the week", I meant Sunday (midnight hitting Monday, if you want to get specific). That's the end of the week, and so that's when I'd like to see a post from everyone for all of their characters by. At the rate we're going, it's not unreasonable - we're already picking up speed! I'm very excited to see things kicking off like they are already. Once everyone has posted, we'll have an established posting order, too, so that's fantastic!
@SleepingSilence
Thank you for your patience! Most of the hold up was on the GM's end - they weren't able to get online and even contact me about it, unfortunately. However, we're not looking at another hold up like this again. The biggest problem was getting this roleplay off the ground, and now that we're getting traction, it won't be happening again. If there's any future hold ups, none will last like this - a few days at most, maybe, but not an entire month. When we were starting the roleplay, we expected a two week delay at most while waiting for character applications, but a full month was definitely not intended. Thank you for your patience!
@Cubix
Take your time! There's no rush. We'd like to see everyone post at least once by the end of the week, but that's all!
tfw you realize you missed someone when you were pinging everyone
I'm so sorry, SleepingSilence


First posts are always the longest - hope it's not too overwhelming for anyone!
Rather than work in his personal study - it was wonderful that they had had a room to give his sister her own, lest they be forced to work in the same room - Auberon found himself reading up on past documents in the castle's library. He yearned to find a solution to the strife between Michael and Gabriel, as he, like his sister, was dissatisfied with what had been done so far. Though he felt that Adeline was much deeper in grief than he, their rage was likely equal. To call it rage was a bit of an exaggeration, but neither would rest until things were made right. The assassination of their parents had not gone unnoticed, but it had gone unpunished. The responsible offenders were not caught, and he himself believed that little effort had gone into finding the offending party. It was not something as simple as poisoning; no, they had been attacked with blades, bled to death. It was a crime, and he intended to see the resolution through.

As he rolled up another parchment, the door to the library opened, revealing one of the maids. Petunia? No, that wasn't right. Frowning to himself, Auberon stood from his seat and waved his hand in acknowledgement that she was waiting to speak. The girl - and how odd it was to call her that, as she looked to be about his age - looked relieved, and stood straight, looking him in the eye. It was refreshing, to not be treated like you were to crumble any moment.

"Queen Adeline requests your presence in her study," the maid told him, hands clasped in front of her.

"Did she say it was urgent?" Auberon asked, tying the cord around the parchment and heading to place it in its rightful spot once more. Behind him, he heard the maid follow.

"No, your Majesty," she responded with hesitation.

"I'll be there immediately," he told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. However, he turned to her as she was leaving, stopping her in her tracks with his words. "Will other parties be present?"

"Sir Venisi, as well as two of the personal servants," the maid told him, turning to face him as she did so. "Is that all, your Majesty?"

"Yes, you're dismissed," Auberon told her, following the maid out of the room, but taking a different path than her.

While she was likely off to fetch the others, Auberon was heading straight to his sister's study. it was easy to come to the conclusion that the meeting was in regards to the letters he and Adeline had received from King Valentine, though he had not seen if his sister's was much different than his. He did appreciate, however, that they had received separate letters; they make rule together, but they made individual decisions as rulers. Why Adeline had summoned a knight and two servants to her study as well eluded him, but Auberon trusted most of his sister's decisions. At the very least, she knew better than to include their baby sister, Serenity. A child had no place in politics, love her as he may.

Stopping by his own study to gather the letter he had received from King Valentine, he wondered if his sister had sent her response yet. He had responded early this morning, sending his letter off with a trusted courier, and hoped that the other king received it in a timely manner. Letter in hand, Auberon knocked on the door, confused as to why it was ajar. He supposed it was a half-open invitation for entry, though it was sloppy in his eyes. Opening it fully for his entry, he greeted his sister with a smile and observed that the colours they wore today were the same. The black was to be expected - they were in mourning - but the muted blue that accented their outfits was identical. Perhaps it came with being twins, their similar decisions and feelings.

"Sister," he greeted, strolling over to her desk and lying is letter atop it. "I trust you have responded to King Valentine."



The Sheol Cathedral shook with the latest blast, causing loose stones to tremble and the people within and around it to cover their heads in fear. Work on the seal had been slow - decades in the making - and it seemed that they were finally making reasonable headway. Ichabod had watched many a demon and human fall to breaking the seal, and had raised each that was not too badly damaged shortly after their demise. Typically, it was demons that joined his legion of undead, though a few humans had made the cut and proven worthy. Unfortunately, many had been wasted with Lenore's flames, though their deaths were necessary; rebels would not be tolerated. Breaking the seal was priority, as was told to the kingdom by their king.

From his place beside Lenore on the second story of the cathedral, Ichabod stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He kept a watchful eye on his undead minions, and kept Lenore in his peripheral at all times. He worried for her, taking the mantle of archbishop, but was overall proud of her and her progress. She was going to accomplish what her predecessors had failed to do, and he was going to make sure of it. Though Ichabod himself could have taken up the role she now held, he was glad he had not; not only because he cared little for the title and its responsibilities, but because of the pride he felt knowing his Lenore was leading the greatest effort in the kingdom.

Lenore seemed to have reached a critical decision as she led them from their post, down the stairs and out of the cathedral. Not wanting to break her concentration on the task at hand, Ichabod remained silently for the journey to the castle. Perhaps she'd thought of something he had not - was the seal close to breaking? Even without her curse, the necromancer felt that his charge had an affinity for magic. While it was likely better that one of them had stayed behind to keep an eye on those slaving away at breaking the seal, there were other bishops present to do so. And should anyone have slacked off? They were sure to meet either his blade or her flames. There was no tolerance for those who did not do as they were told.

A cursed human greeted them inside the castle, ushering them further inside where they waited for their audience with King Erebus. Lenore was clutching her tome closely, a look of quiet distress on her face, and Ichabod felt a pang in his heart. There were only two he'd ever cared about - his beloved, and Lenore. Now was one of those moments when he had to remind himself that she was no longer a babe, and could hold her own and solve her own problems. Still, when her icy blue eyes fell on him with what could only be described as a pleading look, he broke the silence in their wait.

"I assume we've made considerable progress?" Ichabod inquired with an upward quirk of his lips. "Under your command, the kingdom has made more progress than it has in the past century."

Though not one to give direct compliments, Ichabod could certainly talk circles around one. Raising her meant that Lenore would understand this, and hopefully take his words as truth. He'd seen a lot in his time, after all; from his time before the kingdom was sealed to the time spent breaking the seal. Not once, though, had he ever put his life on the line to do so. He was glad that Lenore shared that with him; he'd already lost most of his beloved, and to lose Lenore would be all it would take to return him to the realm in which Lucifer himself dwelled in.
Looking up from the unfolded letters in his hands, Picard carefully creased them once more, setting them back in the false book. He looked at his king attentively, though the words he'd been reading danced behind his eyes. It was hard to believe such letters were connected to Valentine; the varying prose and poetry seemed to have bled from the king himself, but they were addressed to him, not from him. In some, the gentle advisor recognized the handwriting of Vincent and of Carina. In others, the loopy calligraphy was unfamiliar. He could only assume that the mysterious third party was either an admirer or a pen pal - either way, a romantic one at that. Tucking the hollow book back onto the shelf, he paid his king his full attention.

"Of course, your Majesty," Picard responded obediently with a half-bow. Though not a typical servant, the brunette had few qualms when it came to playing messenger for Valentine. He was too likable a man, too kind and gracious, to consider refusing. Beyond that, they had grown up together, and he'd fallen easily into the serving role with the dark-haired monarch.

The advisor to the throne took his leave silently, not wanting to disturb his king's thoughts any further, and closed the door to the king's chambers softly behind himself. With his own thoughts of the letters he had unearthed pushed to the recesses of his mind, Picard first sought out the princess, whom he believed would be easier to track down than the bishop. The desperate, cursed man was one that Picard generally tried to avoid as it was - he knew the man sought an angel, and feared discovery for being what he sought. By his own system of beliefs, Picard did not interfere with matters that did not directly hold affect or influence on the royal family. They held his loyalty and intrigue, and so it was they who received his guidance and aid. Though he was sure Valentine and Cordelia would disagree with his choice to not remove the bishop's curse, he strongly believed that the man could find an angel to strike a deal with himself, rather than wait for one to hear of his plight and aid him.

Pushing aside his mind's wanderings, Picard first checked the princess's chambers, and then her brother's study. When both were fruitless, he descended to the grounds the knights trained on. Sure enough, the light-haired princess was training, her strikes on the dummies sure and true. A gaggle of pages stood to the side, observing her technique, and the advisor patiently waited for her demonstration to end. When the pages applauded and the knights in charge of them pulled their attention from the hard-working royal, he stepped forth.

"Your Highness," he began, heart stuttering at the fierce look on her face. It softened almost immediately, but his heart did not calm. "His Majesty requests your presence in his study."

"What does he wish to discuss?" Cordelia inquired, sheathing her sword on her hip and placing her shield on her back. "The impending meeting? Or perhaps the journey?"

"He did not say, your Highness," Picard told her apologetically. "He requested your presence, as well as that of the bishop, Argus."

"I see." Green eyes assessed the knights and pages assembled, and then fell back on the advisor before her. "Expect me shortly. I must finish my business here first."

"Understood," he responded with a nod.

Cordelia turned away from Picard, the action dismissive enough for him, and he gave the same small bow he'd given Valentine before exiting the training grounds. Now, he just needed to track down Cain. He was less familiar with the man's habits, though he knew enough to avoid him. As it was, he hoped he could find the bishop in a timely manner. It would not do to keep the royal family waiting, especially with such an important meeting on the horizon. What success could bank on the bishop's presence, however, eluded Picard. The only instance that came to mind was that the man would be there for their protection; he was a worthy opponent, and loyal to the throne. His only concern was whether or not that loyalty relied on an angel taking notice of and removing his curse. In truth, Picard knew little about the man.



With Picard's departure returned the fierce look on Cordelia's face, the face she wore when she meant business. Well, she had a sweet look for that, too, but that was generally reserved for when she was dealing with her brother. Regardless, the business at hand had to do with the new pages - finally, new recruits to fill the gaps in the sector and honour the kingdom. The peace that washed through Raphael, even with the assassination of the monarchs of Michael, meant that there were very few stepping up to be knights or warriors in their kingdom. The people saw little need, unable to understand that it was because of the knights and warriors that they had any peace and safety at all. Distressing, to say the least, when you wanted to uphold the peaceful ways of Raphael.

"I expect," Cordelia told the pages assembled, "that you'll all work hard on what I've shown you. You know who to go to if you have trouble."

She gestured to the assembled knights, and nodded to both groups. With a dismissing salute, she exited the training grounds, heading straight for her chambers. If she were to meet with her brother, it would not do for her to be in the clothes she wore, or carrying both her sword and shield. Finer clothes and her sword alone would suffice, though he surely planned to bring her to the meeting as his guard, which meant the shield would see the sun again in no time. The day was still young, even with the weather brewing over the horizon. At the very least, if it rained, they'd have sufficient cover for the two of them if Valentine were to hold the shield over their heads.

One change of clothes later, the mossy green of their kingdom draped over her form and cinched at the waist, Cordelia hung her family's shield on the wall beside her vanity. Reattaching the scabbard to her hip with the sword still sheathed, she nodded to herself. This would do, though the shield probably would have made Picard feel better around the bishop, Cain. She was no fool, and had noticed his aversion to the man. In her opinion, it was unfair; he did what he could to control his curse, and in turn also did what he could to use it for good. If an angel would just come and lift it, perhaps those who feared him would breathe a little easier. After all, the fear was of his curse, not the man himself. How many people saw past it, however, eluded Cordelia.

Prepared for the meeting, Cordelia left her chambers and made her way to her brother's study. She assumed he would already be present, and when she arrived, knocked on the door politely. Whenever work was being done in this room, the door was kept closed, away from prying eyes and listening ears. It was important that it be done, lest information fall into the wrong hands. When you ruled a kingdom, you could never be too careful. After waiting for an acceptable period of time, Cordelia opened the door to the study, surprised to see it empty. As he was not here, she could only assume he was wrapping up matters elsewhere. No matter, she'd wait at his desk. If he wanted the seat for himself, he should have arrived before her. Cordelia was not one to waste time, and hoped her brother and the bishop arrived soon.


Name
Diana Guerra
Gender
Female
Age
16
Nationality
Brazilian
Element
Air
Role
Lancer

Appearance
Standing at 5'9", Diana has only just reached the point where she has stopped growing. Her figure, as a result of her height, is willowy. With long arms and legs, it sometimes gives the illusion that she's even taller. Naturally tan skin that only browns further in the sun matches with her dark brown hair. Her hair is exceptionally curly, and she refuses to take a straightener to it. She's proud of her curls, even when they obscure her view. Diana's eyes are hazel, appearing more brown, green, or grey depending on her environment.

Diana prefers, above all else, to dress practically. If her clothes are comfortably and work well for her environment, she's good. This means most of her wardrobe is made up of jeans, shorts, and t-shirts. She wears athletic sneakers on her feet - the kind that are cushioned, not flat like plywood - and has decorated the plain white with dark storm clouds and lightning bolts. For added effect, the lightning bolts are outlined in highlighter, though she has to refresh it from time to time.

Personality
Best known for her impulsive nature, Diana is always finding trouble. Whether it's speaking her mind or taking action while others are at a standstill, she's not afraid to step up to the plate. Her mouth will run ahead of her mind, leaving her verbal filter virtually nonexistent, and no question of where she stands on issues and with people. Her body, too, works ahead of her mind - there's little 'think' and a lot of 'do' when it comes to her actions. This reckless behaviour was worse when she was younger, and though she's learning the importance of self-control as she gets older, that doesn't mean she has to like it. She knows she wasn't born to please people, and as such has no qualms of sticking to her guns. When this leads to violence, you can bet she's going to be the first one to punch back.

Not everything is straightforward, though, and Diana prides herself on thinking outside the box. When things seem bleak or a situation impossible, she looks at things from another angle. She's quick on her feet and prides herself on her ability to problem solve. Sure, not all of her solutions are practical and some of them are downright weird, but she believes in solving something by any means necessary. Sometimes, this means getting hurt, but she tries not to put other people in situations where they could be hurt. She's learned that just because she's okay with sacrificing her own well-being, not everyone is. Though not totally selfless, she's certainly not afraid of taking the fall.

Diana is her gentlest when it comes to two things - small children, and nature. Children are a soft spot for her, as she appreciates their innocence and creativity. Sure, she doesn't set a great example for children, but she believes in setting up future generations to succeed. When it comes to nature, she can't help but admire it; especially the beauty of weather. Whether it's a sunny morning or a stormy afternoon, she's guaranteed to enjoy it. She finds beauty in all manners of weather, though that doesn't stop the fear that comes with more disastrous weather.

Backstory
Born to her parents in early spring, Diana was a bright-eyed child whose middle name was Trouble as soon as she was mobile. She loved to explore and touch everything, which led to a significant number of injuries, from scrapes to burns. It was necessary to constantly monitor her - she couldn't be left unattended for even a moment. Of course, she didn't understand the problem; they hadn't told her to stay put, so why would she stay while they were busy doing something else? She just wanted to check everything out, and it wasn't like she got hurt that bad. Still, her parents put her in time-out every time she wandered off, and she eventually learned to ask when she wanted to go somewhere or do something.

In middle school, she fell in with a like-minded crowd, and learned skills her parents most definitely did not approve of. Vandalism, pick-pocketing, stealing without getting caught - her favourite, by far, was practicing sleight-of-hand to pick-pocket. Diana learned to move quietly and how to act calm under pressure, and took pride in her skills. When she was caught stealing a comic book, however, her friends didn't even try to help her. Realizing that they weren't the kind of friends she thought they were, she bailed. They didn't take kindly to it, but she didn't take kindly to them, either. Her parents were horrified that she had stolen anything, but when she promised to turn over a new leaf, they were put at ease. Still, she did a lot of work in the community to make up for her behaviour in her parents' eyes, even if she still pocketed candy from time to time. Larger things were obviously not her forte.

Now in high school, Diana's got acquaintances, but she wouldn't call them her friends. Speaking her mind as she does means her choices for friends is cut down considerably, especially when she's not afraid to call someone out on undesirable behaviour. She doesn't appreciate them any less, but she certainly doesn't feel close with them. Her biggest problem is that not everyone speaks their mind, so whether they really agree with her point of view or not is up in the air. She can respect people having different opinions than her, but not people who lie about what they think. After her falling out with what quickly became a gang, she's gotten paranoid that her decision to leave them is going to come back and bite her.

Likes
  • Fruit
  • Solving Problems
  • Victory
  • Weather
Dislikes
  • Being Silenced
  • Expectations
  • Rules/Regulations
  • Seafood
@DeadBeatWalking Awesome! I'll add her to the character tab.
The closest I came to foreshadowing her element is in her love of storms - I didn't want to make her personality too airy. Though, I suppose she can fall more into the category of violent winds. Fierce and unpredictable.
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