z

Young Writers Society


City of Broken -- Started



User avatar
66 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1882
Reviews: 66
Wed Oct 26, 2011 1:46 am
SisterItaly says...



The city of Daraz. The city of the broken and reborn. The city of new starts. It’s only been about fifteen years since the two gods have arrived and turned the nearly destroyed city around. For the better, too. Back then, the city was crawling with thieves, murderers, and criminals of all kinds. Now the peaceful city faces a whole new challenge. An invasion.

Being the small city it was, no one ever saw the need for an army. Their guards were always on top of their game after all. So when the King of Esceos ordered his army to take the city it didn’t take much for him to take it. All the Daraz were forced into slavery by the people and soldiers he brought over. Some are forced to build his new palace. The temple built for the two gods doesn’t suffice, in his opinion. The days are long, the work is hard, and if they don’t keep up they’re beaten down.

Of course, there is a group of Daraz who have escaped the soldiers and have begun a rebellion underground. Literally, there are pathways under the city that they hide in. They were originally built to bring water into the city, but the river it was connected to dried out years ago. They hope if they can get their gods back they can take back their city. The slaves above them don’t understand why their leaders haven’t heard their pleas. Some have even began to look down on the people that gave them their new start.

Little do they know, the people they worship are not gods at all. Only immortals with too much time on their hands and good intentions. But, there is rumor of Tsila wandering the streets as a human. You never know with these god types.

Rules:
- Usual YWS/SB rules.
- ALL posts must be readable, co-relate to previous posts and have correct spelling. That means no chat speak.
- No minimum word count! Just make sure all posts are more than one paragraph and help advance the plot.
- Swearing; it's allowed just don't overdo it. And keep it reasonable; No F-bombs!
- Romance is allowed but no sex scenes; No one needs to read about details.
- Claim as many characters as you want-- just make sure you can handle them.
- Fantasy creatures are allowed, but not as characters. Don't go crazy with them. Maybe an odd colored lizard or something.
- Don't God-mod. Please, it's not fair. And no Mary/Gary Sues either. They annoy me.
- Please don't double post unless there have been no new posts for at least 24 hours.
- Please have a name and place at the top of each post. Such as Name | Place OR, for example; Mia | Town.
- Please do not kill another person's character without permission; it's unfair, and not to forget mentioning, godmodding. We really don't like that. And besides, no one likes it when they're randomly killed.
-Do note that people will probably die.
- All NON-SB posts to the DT please people.
- The SB is co-run by
SisterItaly and ScarlettFire.

Notes To Make

-- Daraz is a city in the middle of a desert.
-- Only a rare few know of the immortals not actually being gods. It’s not common knowledge.
-- The king of Esceos is a power hungry man. He wouldn’t spare you because you have children or because you were a child.
-- Those in the rebellion may be conflicted about saving the gods, seeing as most believe they have abandoned them.
--There may be Eceo who feel bad for the slaves, but none of them would really be in the resistance. Unless of course they plan on becoming Daraz citizens.
-- The king is currently taken over where the gods would have been living. The temple.
-- The temple is much like a palace, but it does/did offer refuge to the ill/injured and people in hiding.

Characters -- Some more males would be nice~

Gods/Immortals;

Ruler of Daraz - Vance - Male --SisterItaly
Ruler of Daraz - Neri - Female --SisterItaly
Goddess of Thieves - Tsila - Female -- ScarlettFire
Immortal - Dismas - Male -- ScarlettFire
God - Arjana - Male -- ScarlettFire

Royalty;

King of Esceos - Jakome - Male -- [?]
Princess of Esceos - Peshet - Female -- gleek456
General of Esceos - Oded - Male -- Shadowlight
King’s Advisor - [?] - [?] -- [?]

Eceo;

Soldier - Shakil - Male -- SisterItaly
Soldier - [?] - [?] -- [?]
Citizen - Alois - Male -- SisterItaly (Kind of both?)
Citizen - Mikel - Male -- ScarlettFire

Daraz;

Slave - Sian - Female -- ShadowLight
Slave - Cella - Female -- paintingtherain97
Resistance Leader - Liam - Male -- Redfang18
Resistance Member - Prostlon - Female -- cspr
Resistance Member - Alois - Male -- SisterItaly (Kind of both?)
Resistance Member - [?] - [?] -- [?]

Slots may be added/taken away as needed. If you have any suggestions shoot SisterItaly a PM! She rather enjoys them.

Character Profiles

Name: (First AND Last, if known)
Age: (No age minimum-- but be reasonable.)
Gender: (Male or female.)
Race: (Human, Immortal, God/Goddess, etc)
Rank (Slave? Soldier? Lord? Lady? Immortal?)
Allegiance: (Neri/Vance, Eceo King, Daraz, Other, Self?)

Appearance: (Description and picture. No Scene, artwork is okay.)

Personality: (Include likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. Can be done in point form.)

Power/s: (If you have one/any. Be reasonable.)

History: (At least two four line paragraphs. And none of this “I don’t remember” stuff. Your character has a story, so give us a glimpse of it.)

Up For Love? (Yes, no, orientation, conditions. Have you planned anything with another writer?)

Other: (Anything we’ve missed?)

~~~~~~

The DT can be found here.
Last edited by SisterItaly on Thu Nov 03, 2011 2:26 am, edited 10 times in total.
"Even in the end --even in death-- I can't hate you." - Neri Hereford's last words.

"The Gods demand blood, for they... do not bleed." Jaska.

The Book.





User avatar
66 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1882
Reviews: 66
Wed Oct 26, 2011 1:53 am
View Likes
SisterItaly says...



Name: Neri Hereford
Age: She’s been alive for 32 years. It’s complicated. She appears to be about 18-20ish.
Gender: Female
Race: Immortal (pretending to be a goddess)
Rank Leader/’Goddess’ of Daraz. Also known as ‘Goddess of the broken’.
Allegiance: Daraz, her brother, Dismas, and most importantly her people.

Appearance: Neri definitely fits the appearance of a goddess. She has incredibly long, red hair that reaches her ankles and a slim, tan, curvy body. Her skin is smooth like silk, and just as delicate. She hates to admit it, but she bruises easily. She can always be seen wearing vibrate clothing to match her status. Red also happens to be her favorite color. She says it brings out her large, honey brown eyes. Neri is definitely a jewelery person. When she was free she could often be seen wearing tons of it.

She also has a large scar marring her stomach. She doesn't like it when people ask about it, and it's the only one of her scars that won't go away.

Spoiler! :
The sleeping girl.
Image


Personality: Neri is fierce and loyal beyond belief. She’d gladly to anything for her people, especially her brother, Dismas, or any new arrivals to her city. She’s definitely got her motherly instinct. She’s one of those kinds to hold you until you stop crying and take care of you until your fever breaks.

Now, that being said she won’t put up with anything she doesn’t have to. If you’re irritating her or doing something she doesn’t approve of she will speak up. She’s especially cold towards the king who’s taken her city. She spends most of her time making snide remarks to him and demanding that he leave her city.

At night, though, Neri’s a completely different person. She’s horrified for her people, and herself. She’s come to the delusion that the darkness is playing tricks on her mind. Neri doesn’t know which she’d rather deal with, her fear of being left alone in the dark or her nightmares. By day, she’s the cocky immortal who vows to free her people. By night, she’s a sniveling mess.

Power/s: She is capable of lying and making anyone believe anything she says. This power doesn’t work on immortals and gods, or people who know it’s being used on them. She doesn’t know she has this power. She does have minor healing abilities, but again they can’t be used on immortals and gods.

And it's not much of a power, but any scars she has after a wound heals fade by the next day. All but one-- the large one on her stomach.

History: Neri and Vance have very similar histories, seeing as they’re brother and sister. When Neri was only a baby her nursemaid took her and her brother out to the woods and told them to run. She was too old to run, herself. Vance obeyed and ran with his sister. Their house was burned down as they ran for their lives.

Vance began raising Neri on the streets, and learned it wasn’t safe. He then took her out into the desert. Later, they were taken to Tsila’s den by a group of slave traders. Vance and Neri were kept as personal slaves to the slave trader king. Neri was kept shut away from the world, but those who knew her loved her.

Eventually she made her way into the thief markets and took to stealing. She was taken in by the thieves’ den when her brother became the king of the slave traders. This is when she first met Dismas-- and instantly fell for him. Unfortunately, she later discovered he was in favor of men and he and her brother decided to just lead her on so she wouldn’t get upset. She was definitely more upset over being led on.

At this time, Vance wasn’t a very sane man. But she had no where else to go, so she stayed with her brother. Eventually, he snapped and killed her. Tsila took pity on the girl, and brought her back to life for one day-- where she fell in love with Dismas all over again and him with her. (And got to meet her niece, Vance’s and one of his slave’s children.)

When she went back to the other world, Tsila took pity on her and her brother again and made them immortals. Under the condition they never return to Tsila’s Den; the place they grew up. If they did, they’d die all over again.

They stumbled upon Daraz and agreed they had to rebuild that city, and make it a home. During their time rebuilding both the city and it’s citizen’s lives they were called gods. They just went with it. Eventually the people all pitched in and made the city a terrific place. They even turned the old palace into a temple for the gods to live in.

One day, the guards who protected their city went to Neri with news of a thief who claimed to know her. She had him brought to her. When she discovered it was indeed Dismas she through her heart into fixing him.

When the Eceo king took her land and separated her from her brother, she began to go crazy. Now she’s marred with scars, wounds, bruises and terror.

Up For Love? Nope. Right now she’s the king’s personal slave and her heart belongs to Dismas.

Other: Currently, she's the king's personal slave. A job she'd love to give up.

~~~~

Name: Vance Hereford
Age: He’s been alive for 44 years. Like his sister, it’s complicated. Appears to be mid-20s.
Gender: Male
Race: Immortal (pretending to be a god)
Rank Leader/God of Daraz. Also known as ‘God of Rebirth’.
Allegiance: His sister, his city, his people, himself.

Appearance: Vance, like his sister, definitely appears to be a god. His fiery red hair reaches his lower back. He’s a fit man, but not very bulky. Over time Vance has accumulated different tattoos, mostly those of dragons. But, he’s not a very intimidating man. If it weren’t for his tattoos he’d have a very fatherly appearance. He has gentle green eyes that seem to understand. Like Neri, he likes to dress vibrantly. He’s not nearly as big of a fan of jewelery as she is, though.

Spoiler! :
The protective boy.
Image


Personality: He knows when to sit down and just let someone talk, or when someone just needs to be hugged. He also knows when he needs to be a little more stern with someone. Vance doesn’t put up with any one's crap.

Once Vance puts his mind to something you can be assured it will be done. Sooner or later. And it will be done right. Unlike his old self he’s capable of controlling most of his anger. He still gets angry, and it’s still something you don’t want, but he doesn’t normally get violent anymore. He’s almost afraid to get violent, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

He worries for his people, every day. Even when they’re looking down on him and telling him he doesn’t deserve anything they’ve done for him. It hurts, to the point he’s given up and began shifting through the motions. He’s not going to let them break him, but he’s done fighting against it. He knows he can’t free his city alone. Right now, his main concern is getting his little sister away from that mad man.

He loves his little sister, his city, and he considers Dismas to be a brother. His temper may not be as short as it used to be... but there’s always that chance he may go insane again. And that scares him.

Power/s: He’s able to calm a tense crowd. Unlike his sister his powers work on immortals-- but still not on gods. He also has minor healing abilities, which don’t work on other immortals and gods; unlike his sister he feels the pain the person he’s healing felt.

And it's not much of a power, but any scars he has after a wound heals fade by the next day.

History: When Vance was young his father received many visitors. His father was a lord, after all-- a high-standing one at that. Vance learned that his visitors weren’t always nice people when his dad started coming out of his office beaten and bleeding. He never put too much thought into it though-- his father didn’t like when he pried into things. One night his nursemaid took him and his sister out to the woods and told them to run. Over his shoulder he could see the flames hitting the sky.

Vance didn’t spend long lingering around the city with his baby sister. He knew it would do him no good to raise her on the streets. So, he took her out into the desert with the hopes of finding another city. Somewhere more accepting. Unfortunately, they were found by slave traders and taken to Tsila’s Den. The current king of slave traders took interest in Vance, but the boy refused to even move unless his sister would be safe. He kept her close by at all times, but eventually she began demanding more freedom and took to wandering the markets; stealing.

Shortly after he usurped the throne from the man who owned him his sister ran off to join the thieves. He let her, and told the thief king to take good care of her. When they found out she was madly in love with him Vance made the other man play along. He was used to giving his sister what he wanted. He took a liking to one of the female slaves, and impregnated her. Unfortunately he hasn’t had much opportunity to see his daughter. Dismas ended up raising her.

Eventually she did find out that Dismas didn’t love her like that, and moved back into the slave trader’s den. Vance and the rest of the den were already under a lot of stress thanks to a certain princess who had been brought there by criminals. No one could get in or out of the city. Vance was already mentally unstable, anyone in his den could tell you that. Eventually he snapped and went into a fit of insanity; killing Neri and attempting to kill Dismas. He was ended by Dismas, who repaid him for killing Neri-- who Dismas later discovered he truly loved.

Tsila took pity on the two dead criminals and brought them back as immortals-- on the condition they never return to Tsila’s den. They stumbled upon Daraz and agreed they had to rebuild that city, and make it a home. During their time rebuilding both the city and it’s citizen’s lives they were called gods. They just went with it. Eventually the people all pitched in and made the city a terrific place. They even turned the old palace into a temple for the gods to live in.

When Dismas found them, Vance was ecstatic. He helped his sister fix Dismas as much as they could. It was like having a family all over again.

Up For Love? Maybe, if he can find the right girl. He’s dedicated his life to making it up to his sister and repaying for his sins.

Other: He’s been put to work on building the new palace, so not only does he have the guards breathing down his neck he’s got the people who have turned their backs on him watching him too.

~~~~

Name: Shakil Leo
Age: 33
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Soldier
Allegiance: Eceo King, self. (Kinda in a tiny way Neri?)

Appearance: Shakil is tall, dark, and nothing too amazing in his own opinion. He has dark eyes that seem to dig into whatever he’s staring at-- always fixated darkly on something. On top of his head is the messiest mop of medium brown/dark brown hair you’ll ever see. He’s not a fan of wasting time on something as trivial as appearances. (Hence why he never shaves, either.)

Spoiler! :
Image


Personality: Shakil is the kind of guy who goes for what he wants and knows where his loyalty lies (mostly).

When Shakil sees something he likes he works to get it and will continue to work at it until he realizes he’s not going to get it or it’s his. Be it a pretty face, victory in battle or whatever he’s after. That being said, he knows when to withdraw from a fight because he’ll just end up hurt. Some call him a coward for it, but most of those people are dead by now. Not all by his hand, either. Shakil has a certain amount of respect for women-- but sometimes he just doesn’t know when enough is enough. Just give him a smack on the head and he’ll stop.

Shakil is also a big time nationalist. His heart lies with his country and he feels that no one --especially travellers/foreigners-- understand. In his opinion, the king/leader does what’s best for his country and one should have more faith in their leaders than their own gods.

Even though Shakil’s heart belongs to his country and his people he still managed to develop genuine feelings for Neri. Which is why he’s kinder to her than any of the other Daraz people. It’s been rumored that when he sees the king dragging the poor immortal around that he disappears to cry. This proves he’s capable of feeling other’s pain-- not physically but emotionally.

Power/s: None thus far!

History: Shakil was born to a soldier in the kingdom of Esceos. His father before him was a soldier, as was his father, and so on. It was determined from the start that Shakil would follow in their footsteps. His mother was a quiet woman who loved him deeply and his father was a believer in tough love. As his father’s only son-- and child-- it was expected of him to excel in everything he did. If he didn’t, his father beat him and lectured him until he got it right.

His life was pretty normal, compared to others. Especially when compared to those in Daraz. When he was old enough he began fighting for his country and did so with pride like none other. The king saw promise in this one, and sent him on a special mission when he heard news of a possibly still living heir to the Ansharian throne.

He sent him to scope out and spy on the city of Daraz, which was said to be home to little defence and plenty of bounty. Shakil arrived in Daraz under the disguise of a broken and scared man. Neri took pity on him and raised him back to ‘health’ quickly. The two grew close, and before they knew it they were using each other to *cough* satisfy needs.

When Dismas came to the city Shakil did not like him. He discovered that Dismas was Neri’s true love, and he didn’t like it. He still has feelings for Neri-- but as for the other Daraz he couldn’t care less. If he had it his way Dismas would be out of the picture.

He hasn’t and won’t tell the king that Neri and Vance aren’t gods, because he wants to protect her.

Up For Love?: Probably not, he’s kinda got a thing for Neri.

Other: He’s not really that bad of a guy, but threaten his beloved or his king and he’ll chop you up.

~~~~

Name: Alois Elizar -- Aka ‘Lord Elizar of Esceos.’
Age: 13-ish
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Resistance member; acts as a Lord to spy on the people.
Allegiance: Himself, Daraz, anything that means taking down the Esceos.

Appearance: Alois, being from a distant and not-usually-as-sunny place isn’t tan. He’s rather pale to the point his skin can be described as a ghostly white. Some call him well bred-- with his pale blond hair and deep blue eyes. He’s about average height for a boy his age, and slightly underweight. He holds himself like the lord he pretends, and used to be.

Warning, though. An unimpressed/angry Alois is something no one wants to behold. It’s a chilling and dark thing that’s been known to frighten some adults-- even a grown man.

Warning, clicking his spoiler may make you lag. I like my Alois gifs.
Spoiler! :
ImageImageImageImageImage


Personality: Alois is a horribly confused, conflicted and emotionally unstable boy. He’s prone to violence and constantly seeking attention. He may seem like a happy young boy, but he’s far from it.

Alois craves love, attention, understanding. He’ll do anything to get it. From hanging off people to purposely misbehaving, to acting promiscuous. It’s rather uncomfortable to have a thirteen year old make passes at you, but he doesn’t understand that. He’d never admit that, though. He’s never admit that he seeks attention, either. He won’t allow anything to marr his pride or family name.

Once Alois has the love and attention he craves he doesn’t know what to do with it. More so, he doesn’t understand it. He’s never had anyone who truly cared for him before. Since he doesn’t understand it, it scares him. How do frightened children react? They push what’s scaring them away. Alois does so rather violently.

He also has this habit of suddenly getting extremely serious looking and violent. No one knows what brings on these violent mood swings. When they happen, it’s best to leave the room.

Power/s: The power to be super annoying. I joke, he’s got nothing.

History: Alois’ family was originally from a distant land, but moved to Esceos before Alois was born. His father was a rich silk and tea merchant, and his mother was the one who would follow her husband until the end of the earth.

As long as there were other men she could sleep with.

His mother was the biggest harlot you could ever meet. She’d trade her own son for a one night stand if it meant not sleeping with his father. When the man found out he was disgusted with the woman. It’s hard to tell if Alois is truly Lord Elizar’s son. In his family it was common for men to become sterile. So he had his doubts and disowned his family.

Alois’ mother committed suicide-- or so the story goes. Alois knows his father murdered her. Alois knows that’s why they were thrown out of Esceos. And Alois knows that’s why his father couldn’t look him in the face. He looked too much like his mother.

During their time travelling his father grew even more distant and angry with Alois. Eventually days grew long with beatings and arguments that Alois didn’t want to be part of. When they reach Daraz Alois’ father turned the other way and left his son there. Alois was too tired, sick, and hungry to chase after him. He was taken care of by the people of the city.

He’s still a rather rich boy. He was probably one of the richest in Daraz-- which is why he pulls off being a Eceo so easily. He has the attitude of a lord.

Up For Love? He’s thirteen... but all he really wants is some sort of family ‘love’. Nothing intimate.

Other: He’s now turned his back on the ‘gods’ and slanders them any chance he gets.
Last edited by SisterItaly on Fri Oct 28, 2011 2:49 am, edited 3 times in total.
"Even in the end --even in death-- I can't hate you." - Neri Hereford's last words.

"The Gods demand blood, for they... do not bleed." Jaska.

The Book.





User avatar
32 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 671
Reviews: 32
Wed Oct 26, 2011 2:02 am
View Likes
Redfang18 says...



Name: Liam Cross (although some call him the Dragon behind his back because of his temper)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Leader of the Resistance
Allegiance: Resistance
Appearance:
Spoiler! :
Image
The scar's a result from a fight a year ago. Whenever he looks in the mirror, he's reminded of a man who double-crossed him and tried to kill him but ran off with a wound in the shoulder, leaving Liam with a scar on his brow.
Personality: He's calm most of the time, but he has a temper that often gets in the way of his judgement. He has a love for drawing pictures and loves to be around children. He's also a part-time poet, but has a very hard time with his emotions. In fact, his biggest weakest is his fiery temper. Believe it or not, he takes everything almost seriously and very personally, so it's almost too easy to make him mad.
Power: He doesn't have a magical bone in his body. He's a master swordsman, so he keeps a sword on his person in case of a battle.
History: Liam is the only child of a carpet merchant and a runaway slave. He was very young when his mother died, so he was raised by his father and grandparents. He was only fifteen when his grandparents showed him to the temple, but he had the feeling something was amock. Sure enough, he and his father were forced into hiding when the city was taken over. His father founded the Resistance when Liam was 21, then passed the torch to Liam two years later. Liam's been the Resistance Leader for four years, carrying out his father's main goal- return the city to her former glory and regain peace upon the land.
Up for love: Yes. He's straight, but you'll have to try and get past his temper if you want to love him.
Other: Prostlon is one of Liam's favorite members, but doesn't see her as a sidekick. He sees her more like a partner than a sidekick.
Last edited by Redfang18 on Sat Nov 05, 2011 8:06 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Look down and show some mercy if you can.
Look down, look down, upon your fellow man.

~~~Les Miserables





User avatar
42 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 1717
Reviews: 42
Wed Oct 26, 2011 2:29 am
View Likes
Shadowlight says...



(UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Name: Sian Iona (how to pronounce her name: Sh-ahn)
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Rank: Slave to a high ranking military official.
Allegiance: No one at the moment, she has lost her faith. (that might change)

Appearance: Sian is small (4'11") yet her build is very womanly and shapely- no one would mistake her for a child. Her eyes are large and a pale violet blue color, one can always tell what she is thinking by her eyes. her hair is dark, long, and silky and is her one personal vanity. Her complexion is pale for one living in the desert but has a healthy "glow" to it, probably because of her present condition.
Spoiler! :
Iona.jpg
Iona.jpg (31.2 KiB) Viewed 398 times


Personality: Sian is what one wold call a gentle spitfire. She is normally the benevolent young woman with a caring streak (she likes to make it all better,) but if someone she cares about is being mistreated she will become as angry as a hornets nest. She tries to bare up under her afflictions, but at times the weight of her problems and the fact so many lean on her for support can break her optimistic spirit and she will break down in tears- she wishes she had a shoulder to cry on once and a while, not always be the shoulder.
In her present condition she is very prone to violent mood swings. So be forewarned she may be all sweet one moment and clawing your eyes out the next.

Power/s: Sian has a talent for music that borders on the magical. When she plays her emotions and thoughts are conveyed to those around her in startling and sometimes unnerving clarity. Her secondary, weaker ability is that through her music she can manipulate the emotions of those around her depending on what she is playing.

History: Sian had a insanely boring childhood as the daughter of a wealthy caravan master- her father made his fortune in trading silks and spices. Sian in her early childhood traveled with her father and family around the country with the caravans but ten years ago He set up his Caravan stop in Daraz and settled there. Her mother, siblings and she moved there permanently- Sian then went form a nomadic girl, to a gentlewoman in training. Her mother had the best teachers she could for all her children and Sian took to her lessons and was a quick pupil. Sian took to her music lessons with a will and had a natural talent that could almost be called genius.

When the cit y was captured and the citizens taken, her father and older brothers were without the city limits and have still not been able to return. She, her mother and younger siblings were unprotected when the army swept through and took the city, all of them were given as gifts to the military officials of the new king, and sent to work. Sian herself was given too one of his personal favorites as a "personal" slave, and for a month Sian has lived in hell.

The military official who is her master, took advantage of her and now (unbeknown to her at the moment,) she is with child- his child. Sian has, within a month, lost her; faith in humanity(her trust has been shattered,) her happiness, and her hope. She tried to be strong for the other newly made slaves as so many of them look to her for support but she is slowly crumbling away inside and is now worried she is falling ill- she is having nausea every morning.


Up For Love?: You're going to have to work at it. She is terrified of men as her trust has been shattered, but if someone is willing to try and not rush her, she would slowly open up. The poor thing really does carry her heart in her hands, and secretly wants to find her white knight who will rescue her. She is straight and single, so if you are attracted to the hormonally unstable, vulnerable and pregnant ones- then Sian is for you!

Other: Sian is left handed, loves sweet foods, and hates spicy anything! She as a child (and probably still) used to love to dance outside on moonlit, star studded nights. She has a love of birds and will often now be found talking to the caged birds in the house the Military official has taken as his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Name: Oded Murtagh
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Human/mortal
Rank : Soldier- General of the Eceo forces.
Allegiance: Eceo (but his faith in his king and their purpose in war is wavering)

Appearance: Oded Carries himself like a military man, ram rod straight. He never slouches or seems relaxed- even when he is. He is average in height and his build is average for a man who spent his whole life fighting. He has tanned skin but not quite as dark as many- this has to do with his heritage which he rarely shares. He has many scars over his body, including lash scars over his back and shoulders, which are the cause of some speculation as to his beginnings. his hair is neither; blond, ginger, or brown- but somewhere in between all of the aforementioned. He keeps it longer and as it has a slight curl to it, he rarely looks like he's brushed it. His eyes are a light blue, nothing very special except the slight hint of laugh lines forming at the corners- but as to how he ever had the time to laugh enough is a mystery. Unfortunately Oded's most striking feature is his nose. There is no way to delicately put it, his nose is big, but as he is not a vain main it rarely bothers him. Oded is most often wearing earth tones, simple military style clothing, his knee high boots, and his sword never leave his side.
Spoiler! :
Oded.jpg
Oded.jpg (48.55 KiB) Viewed 303 times
faramir4.jpg
faramir4.jpg (16.42 KiB) Viewed 303 times



Personality
: (Include likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. Can be done in point form.)
Oded is your typical military man. He has a very strong warriors code and personal moral law- Honor, bravery, loyalty, determination- he tries to follow this to the best of his abilities. He is a very loyal man and once you have his respect you will have his loyalty. He is a man of strong personal presence and can come over as being cold or emotionless- this is not true. He has learned from harsh experience to keep his true emotions masked and sometimes can even fool himself as to what he really thinks. Oded is not a politician, he in fact has very little political ability- he would rather use “aggressive negations” to get his point across. He doesn't make friends very easily but truly wants to have them- most people are too intimidated to give him time to warm up and open up. He is devoted to his troops and it is common knowledge that he would go through hell and back for them. This makes his men fiercely loyal to him, yet his reputation as a warrior make them slightly stand offish at the same time- they respect him greatly.
Oded is truly a multifaceted man, on the one hand a hardened warrior but on the other hand he is a benevolent gentle man who really wishes to find his peace and settle down. He is beginning to question his loyalties and himself when he saw the wholesale slaughter and atrocities the king had the army commit. He is being eaten away by his guilt and wishes somehow redeem himself- he just has no idea how. He is starting to hate himself and question ALL of his past and who he is as a man.


Power/s
: Oded has no real magical ability, but he has a steady head on his shoulders and can think quickly on his feet and adapt to changing situations quicker than most men. He is very intelligent and well read- he respects learning highly. His battle sense is top of the line and is a warrior of renown- he has never lost a battle. His skill with his sword is almost legendary in his army and he is well trained in most marshal military arts and skills. He is an accomplished rider, he cuts an imposing, and frightening figure on his black charger Thanatos.

History: Oded was born in the northern countries to a working class family. His name wasn't Oded then, it was Joshua, he changed years later. His father was a chart and map maker in a small seaside town and his mother was the daughter of the local judge. He was the oldest of five children who drove their parents near distracted with their antics.
When Joshua was seven he began to help his father in the chart shop, painting the seas blue and other large plain color areas. He lived peacefully with his family until the age of twelve, when savage pirates attacked the town and raised it to the ground. Most of the townsfolk were killed, only the strongest men and boys, or the most beautiful women and girls were spared. Joshua's whole family was slaughtered before his eyes and he was carried off by the pirates to be a slave.

He was stuck on a slave ship for almost four months and those months were pure hell. He saw his fellow slaves put under the most horrible of torments and beatings, he himself was beaten for any infraction- real or imagined. When the slave ship arrived in the far tropical/arid regions Joshua was weak and on deaths door, but his fighting resolve was at it's strongest- he refused to die. He was purchased by a fighting master who saw the spark still in the boys eyes and it was then he changed his name- Joshua was a northern name. He now called himself Oded and he started his new life with the fighting master. The fighting master was a trainer for the warriors that were trained to fight in in the Esceos gladiatorial games- savage contests where men killed one another for the peoples sport. For three years Oded trained with the fighting master and his (for lack of a better word) collection of fighters until he was fifteen. He then started his fighting career, it was a fight too the death and Oded's survival instinct kicked to overdrive and he killed- almost with his bare hands his opponent. for the next four years he fought and killed for the sport of others- and he never lost a fight. This is the time in his life he wishes to forget, he feels he lost his humanity during this time.

When he was nineteen Esceos went to war with a neighboring country and the king called for all able bodied men- including the gladiatorial fighters to join in the battles with the added promise of freedom. Oded joined like all the others, he had no choice and fought doggedly catching the notice of the Esceos high general who made him his squire and then for the next ten years he fought well, earned his citizenship and slowly rose up in the ranks until was awarded the rank of general. He fought with the present king loyally for several years as his commanding general, until Daraz. Oded feels like he saw his home and family destroyed all over again- except this time he was one of the pirates. He is questioning himself and his motives- he doesn't want to be a monster anymore, he wants to be a man again. He is very much on the edge of possible changing sides but isn't sure what to do, or what he is capable of.

Up For Love? Oded is straight as a poker and very much open for a romantic relationship. He wants nothing more in the world than fall in love and settle down peacefully to start a family. He wants a family and a sense of belonging more than anything as he had his own ripped from him at so young an age. He is beginning to think though that no one will want the monster he perceives himself as. He would be an unsure and shy at first, but given time he would be a protective and passionate lover, who would die a thousand deaths for the one he loves.

Other: Oded has a tattoo on his left shoulder of a phoenix (a symbol of rising from his own ashes.) He loves the sound of rain- it is a soothing calming sound that gives him a sense of peace, and the sound of childrens laughter,a sound that give him that bitter sweet pain in his heart.. He hates overly sweet foods and unnecessarily loud noises.


(Pasta if any of this isn't going to work for the SB I will gladly edit, just send me a PM)
Last edited by Shadowlight on Mon Oct 31, 2011 11:52 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut





User avatar
212 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 12011
Reviews: 212
Wed Oct 26, 2011 8:38 am
ScarlettFire says...



Placeholder for Dizzy!

Edit; Profiles!

Thief King:
Name: Dismas Anshar.
Age: 30, but he still looks around 22.
Gender: Male.
Race: Immortal.
Rank: King of Thieves, King of Ansharia.
Allegiance: Himself, Tsila’s Den/Thieve’s Den, Ansharia, Neri and Vance, Daraz.

Appearance: Dismas is tall, around 6’, with shoulder length dark hair, dark brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. He has hundreds of faint scares covering his body thanks to the many beatings the old Thief King dished out in the name of keeping up appearances. But they scars only add to his rugged attraction--according to Neri, that is. He appears a lot more ragged at the moment; after all, his is still healing and now bears more scars--deep and nasty looking scars, too. The sadistic man who tortured him left his face mostly untouched, though.
Spoiler! :
Image Image



Personality: Despite his somewhat cold yet playful and arrogant first impression, Dismas is actually kind, loving, caring, smart, determined, loyal and fierce, though very easily distracted. He hates to see those he cares about hurt. He can get really defensive if someone he likes is harmed, and if you start asking questions about his past, he’ll often shut down and just not talk if you bring up anything to do with his family, and if he doesn’t shut down, he’s get mad—really mad. Although a mad Dismas is a rare sight, and not a very good thing, either. You might end up hurt--badly. He hates doing it, but he won’t hesitate if it’s needed. Dimas may be talented as a thief, but he won’t tolerate liars or anyone who shows an unhealthy interest in his past. His main downfalls are his short temper and those who try to pry into his past.

He’s quiet and thoughtful more often than not and thinks a lot before speaking or doing something. He likes to plan things out, if he can, and dislikes when his plans are thoroughly screwed up by stupid mistakes. And he has made a few mistakes in the past, and dislikes when this is pointed out. He also hates being called helpless or a coward—it’s another downfall of his. And he certainly isn’t either when it comes down to life or death situations. Dismas may have a blank, cold and uncaring edge to his expression, like he’s lost all emotion or just doesn't give a damn about the rest of the world. This is because he's feeling sad and/or remember his family, which is a very sad topic for him. He's also a bit of a thief and things tend to go missing when he's around, then again, he is Thief King for a reason. He can't help it if he was born with sticky fingers...

He was very loyal to Tsila and even found her beautiful, even though he’s not as interested in women as he used to be. Although, he's not sure if he would trust the Goddess after her latest stunt; it was Tsila who told him to retrun home in the first place. There’s also his fake facade; the cruel one the many see as him as. He doesn’t bother trying to correct this and often does things to keep up the facade, regardless of how sick it makes him feel to do so. That included buying slaves from Vance and using them, even though he always asks for permission first--but he (and Vance) can no longer do this trading, as Vance is forbidden from going to Tsila's Den and is no longer Slave Trader King there. He has a small group of slaves-turned-inner-circle who act as a kind of ‘royal’ guard for him, but sadly, they're still back in Tsila's Den, his home. They’ve seen what he does to people who don’t do as they’re told--it includes loosing a tongue.

-Flaws/Weaknesses: Dismas has an aversion to his past. Anyone who has ever tried to pry too deeply to get it out of him has ended up without a tongue and swiftly sold off as as slave. He has a major flaw in his temper--it often blinds him and he ends up doing stupid and/or very unreasonable things. He finds it hard to keep up his cold, cruel Thief King facade, but does it anyway. This is his home and he has no where else to go--except back to his old home to claim the title of Ansharian King. Which he will never do while those who killed his family are still alive. You could say he’s rather tormented, really. And he has a lot to lose.

Dismas currently went through a rather nasty ordeal, and is therefore a little broken. Or maybe more than a little. Either way, if you do or say the wrong thing--like fighting and yelling--he may just suddenly snap and retreat into himself, begging for life.

Power/s: Dismas has yet to explore any abilities that may come with Immortality. Those abilities, though, are minor healing, which more Immortals gain upon becoming Immortal, and Empathy. It’s not that strong right now, but it is starting to give him a headache. After all, he’s not just picking up on the feelings of the people around him, but the land as well.

History: Dismas’s history is a bit of a mystery--at least, to those who don’t know him very well (which is most of the people in Tsila’s den). As far as most in Tsila are concerned, Dismas was born and raised in the Thieve’s den and eventually stole the throne. No one questions him about his past (or his claim to the Thief King throne)--at least, not too intensely--and if they do, he hands them off to Vance, after cutting out their tongues, to sell them off as fast as possible.

Beneath it all, though, there’s a darker story.

Dismas is the son of a long forgotten king, and he doesn’t like to talk about it--let alone have anyone who knows about it near him. It only causes heartache and sorrow--something Dismas never wants to feel again. So he tries his hardest to wipe all memory of his past from Tsila’s den.

His first ten or so years of life were spent in luxury. He has everything and anything he could ever want and spent hours upon hours playing outside in the garden with his younger brother and sisters. Life was grand and beautiful, and fun. At least to Young Dismas. His siblings were young, but they seemed to love him. His mother adored him, and his father was good to him.

Until the day he turned ten---a stranger came visiting. Apparently, his father knew the man. But he wouldn’t let his son into the room while the stranger and his father spoke. Dismas waited outside the study door for hours, listening to them yelling. Finally, his father opened the door and invited Dismas in.

Dismas entered the room...and his father left it. What happened next, Dismas would rather forget. The stranger abused him, and tortured him. And then finally, it stopped. Dismas thought it was over. He was wrong. Hours after he had entered the room, the man carried him out of it, spoke lowly with his father and then they were gone.

The man took him to Tsila’s den, revealed himself to be the Thief King and explained the situation with Dismas. Apparently, there was some sort of so-called ‘business deal’ with the boy’s father. That the man had gotten into debt and wanted his son out of the way since there was something much worse coming to Anshar Manor. Dismas, despite being young, didn’t cry or whine about why it had happened to him. He just said two words; “Please explain” in a very calm voice. And so the Thief King did.

Dismas’s father had had an arrangement with another king, something about marrying his youngest sister, little five-year-old Zilar, off to the other king’s eldest son--a man of twenty-five. And a very violent man at that. It was supposed to be a peace treaty thing. Dismas’s father refused. The other king grew furious and put out the word to any bandits who would listen--the Anshar family had to die.

The Thief King said that, since his father didn’t want him to die, the king had contacted his old-time friend, a thief would had escaped a hanging by Dismas’s father’s intervention. The King of Thieves explained that he owed the other man a debt, one he couldn’t possibly pay even if he had the money. But it wasn’t money Dismas’s father had wanted. He couldn’t save his wife or any of his other children, but he could save Dismas, even if it hurt his son. So the Thief King had come within days of the message. When he left with Dismas, who was almost unconscious, they had only hours to leave the Manor before the bandits arrived.

Dismas’s home was burnt to the ground, and his family along with it. As the eldest, he was now technically King. But Dismas decided it wasn’t worth the risk of going back. After all, wouldn’t the bandits only want him dead as well? Reluctantly, the Thief King agreed and for the next five years began grooming the boy to take over. He said once that great pain came with living. Dismas understood--all those hours back at the Manor reminded him. He now knew why the Thief King had done what he did. He had to know pain before he could know anything else. And know pain he did. After all, hadn’t he lost his entire family?

To keep up appearances, the old Thief King let everyone think Dismas was his new slave. He received regular beatings and lectures. But the older man never did anything more. He let people think what they would and secretly taught Dismas how to handle the thieves. When he was fifteen, the old Thief King thought it was time Dismas ‘stole’ the throne. The man had been planning on retiring, anyway.

So, one day he took only Dismas out into the Desert and gave the boy strict instructions. He told Dismas to cut off a couple of fingers from his left hand, take the ring he always wore and to go back to the Den with a bloodied knife. Dismas did as he had asked, watched the man ride off into the sandstorm that had been brewing all day and then finally returned. He recounted the tale to the rest of the thieves and claimed the title of King of Thieves, along with the throne. Most believed him and those who didn’t, had their tongues cut out and were sent to the Slave Trader King to be sold.

For the next seven years, Dismas set about making a name for himself. Those not from Tsila’s Den who heard of Dismas the Thief King now feared him and made it a point to avoid the Den--unless they were desperate and had no where else to go. Dismas hasn’t bothered to correct anyone who thinks him cruel. Those who are close to him know his true face--and it’s no where near as fearful as they think.

After all his drama in Tsila’s Den (Drama that included killing a few men, dealing with his sister’s husband and a pregnant adopted daughter), he decided to go home and reclaim the throne, on the advice of Tsila, the goddess of Thieves and Assassins. Upon reaching his home and identifying himself as Dismas Anshar, King of Ansharia, he was promptly laughed at and tossed into the dungeon before being tortured until it left him broken. After months of this torture, he escaped with the help of Tsila and found his way to Daraz, where he stay for several weeks. During those weeks, he healed with the help of Neri and her brother, but he still isn’t completely healed. He’s sane enough most of the time, but he still has his moments.

Dismas is currently helping out the resistance and often visits Neri and Vance if he has a chance. He discovered he couldn’t die when the King of Esceos tried to kill him. The man thought he was dead, but a few hours later, Dismas awoke to find himself with the resistance. He’s fairly stable right now, but he never knows when he’ll snap.

Up For Love? Nope, he has Neri. But he’s scared--this invasion could cost him Neri if they’re not careful.. His cruel facade no longer matters to him all that much. Also, he tends to lean more towards men than woman. Basically, bi with gay tendencies.

Other: Dismas carries several daggers, but his favourite is this;
Spoiler! :
Image

_____________________________________________


God of Death & War:
Name: Arjana Zafir. Also known as Aram Teodor. Or as Nazar when he’s not pretending to be human.
Age: His true age is unknown, but he often appears as an old man or a warrior. He currently appears to be in his late 30s or early 40s.
Gender: Male.
Race: God.
Rank: God, Merchant Lord.
Allegiance: Dismas, Himself, Tsila’s Den, Merduka (realm of the dead).

Appearance: Nazar, known to Dismas as Arjana, is tall, about 5’9, 6’ tall with dark skin, dark brown eyes and a shaved head. As a mortal, he appears to be to be well-muscled yet old, but don’t be fooled by appearances; with the gods and goddesses, they are very deceiving. He is currently missing two fingers on his left hand; the ring and pinky fingers.
Spoiler! :
Image


Personality: Nazar, as a mortal, seems quiet, thoughtful, brooding and a little temperamental. Of course, he’s not all of these things. He’s a God, and Gods/Goddesses tend to be a little arrogant, even if it gets them hurt or into trouble, and he doesn’t get into trouble often, even though he’s rather put his foot in it with his attachment to Dismas. Fierce and loyal, if sneaky and more than a little secretive, Nazar can't stand to see those he cares about hurt or threatened; it makes him furious. And a furious God of Death is never a good thing. He can be rather blunt on occasion and can sometimes come off as cold and uncaring, which he normally is. Sometimes even incredibly selfish. He has a tendency to brood and forget about those he cares for, but he usually remembers them eventually. His temper is fiery, but he'll only lose it when he's been pushed too far, which doesn’t happen often. After all, it’s not wise to have a god of death who is easily angered, is it?

He never panics when backed into a corner and knows how best to cause trouble. A lot of trouble. After all, he is a God, and the gods always know how to do or say the right thing to cause the most havoc. Then again, he does look after the dead. He likes and dislikes violence, fighting, death, since most of the time, the death, and violence is not something he caused, and he hates that. But still, collecting and looknig after the dead is his most important priority. He likes rules--to an extent. After all, some rules were made to be broken. And hhe breaks them anyway. What good is it to be a god if you can’t break some rules occasionally? Nazar likes sunrise, the stars, the moon, the sun, life and freedom. Gods and Goddesses thrive on freedom. They weren’t born/made to follow strict rules or to be controlled.

Nazar is quite the actor on most occasions and, as a god, is very good at sneaking around, hardly ever getting caught at it. He can disappear and reappear wherever and whenever he likes, and rather enjoys startling people with these tactics. He sometimes has a tendency to forget about what it is he's supposed to be doing, but with a little nudge from someone, he’ll swiftly get back on track. He won't stand down when confronted about something he doesn't want to do or thinks is wrong, but if it’s an request from Tiamat or one of his fellow gods or goddesses, he’ll probably do it. After some consideration, of course.

-Flaws/Weaknesses: One of Nazar’s greatest flaws would have to be his inability tonot become attached to certain mortals. He highly dislikes being caught out/put on the spot outside of his plans; it unnerves himr and he’s likely to lash out, verbally or psychically, but rarely violently. Nazar is normally not a violent god. His other flaws include wrath and pride, among others. The list is really endless. After all, even a god isn’t perfect.

Power/s: As Nazar, he has the most power over life and death. If you want someone brought back to life, you better ask him first. He gets upset if one of his people goes missing from Merduka. Not everyone ends up there, but hey. One can’t have everything.

History: Like most gods or goddesses, Nazar’s history is long and some of it is ancient. Most of his past is shrouded in mystery and the unknown. Not even the gods know how or when they were created, or even if they were born--well, except for Tiamat. Tiamat is mother of all, after all. Besides that, Nazar has watched over many ancient battles, and actually been included in some minor tavern brawls. He has had a few lovers over the thousands upon thousands of years he’s been around, and has a few children from those affairs.

Lately, Nazar has been wandering through the mortal realm. He was in Tsila’s Den at the same time as Dismas while all the drama unfolded--under a false name, of course. He knows all about what happened in Tsila’s Den, since, of course, he was there for some of it. Until he disappeared from that city. He goes back there often, but lately, he’s been seen in Daraz. He’s there to watch over Dismas, Vance and Neri, though the ‘watching over’ includes doing nothing until he finds out what, exactly, is going on and what those in the city are planning. Most importantly, he wants to know what Jakome is up to.

Still pretending to be Arjana, or Aram Teodor as he’s now known, he’s wandering the streets and the temple, keeping an eye on things. Apparently he knows his favourite Immortal and his companions may be in trouble, but he’s still trying to figure a few things out before he steps in to help. A god of death can’t always be meddling with mortal (or some Immortal) affairs, right? Besides, he can probably cause some trouble for that dangerous and sadistic mortal king named Jakome. With Tsila’s help, of course. That’s if he can find her.

Up For Love? He’s more into the casual fling than finding love.

Other: He carries a dagger and a sword, although the sword is normally left in his rooms. You just never know where the dagger might be hidden.

_________________________________________________


Goddess of Thieves & Assassins:
Name: Tsila, but her current human name is Nisha Oulam.
Age: Her true age is unknown but she is currently appears as an elderly lady.
Gender: Female.
Race: Goddess.
Rank: Goddess, Gypsy Woman.
Allegiance: Herself, Tsila’s Den, Dismas.

Appearance: Tsila, currently pretending be a mortal named Nisha, is about 5’8, 5’9 tall with short white hair, lightly tanned skin and striking dark green eyes. She’s slim yet athletic and, like most gods or goddesses, much stronger than she appears. She has a preference for anything red, be it hair, clothing or even blood, and is often seen wearing a long, hooded, dark red cloak.
Spoiler! :
Image


Personality: Tsila, as a mortal, seems timid, kind and a little shy. Of course, she’s none of these things. She’s a Goddess, and Goddesses/Gods tend to be a little arrogant, even if it gets them hurt or into trouble, and she often gets into trouble for any number of things. Luckily someone has always seemed to be there to get her out of it, not that she ever really needed the help. Fierce and loyal, if sneaky and more than a little secretive, Tsila can't stand to see those she cares about hurt or threatened; it makes her furious. And a furious Goddess is never a good thing. She can be rather blunt on occasion and can sometimes come off as cold and uncaring. Sometimes even incredibly selfish. She has a tendency to be snobbish and forget about those she cares for, but she usually remembers them eventually. Her temper is fiery, but she'll only lose it when she's been pushed too far, which doesn’t happen often.

She never panics when backed into a corner and knows how best to cause trouble. A lot of trouble. After all, she is a Goddess, and the gods always know how to do or say the right thing to cause the most havoc. Tsila has a bit of an obsession with herself, almost to the point of being unhealthy. Then again, most gods or goddesses are obsessed with themselves. She likes and dislikes violence, fighting, death, since most of the time, the death, and violence is not something she cause, and she hates that. She dislikes rules, and never did like them. After all, weren't they made to be broken? Besides, she breaks them anyway. What good is it to be a goddess if you can’t break some rules occasionally? She likes sunrise, the stars, the moon, the sun, life, getting her own way/whatever she wants and/or likes and her freedom. Gods and Goddesses thrive on freedom. They weren’t born/made to follow strict rules or to be controlled.

Tsila is quite the actress on most occasions and, as a goddess, is very good at sneaking around, hardly ever getting caught at it. She can disappear and reappear wherever and whenever she likes, and rather enjoys startling people with these tactics. She sometimes has a tendency to forget about what it is she's supposed to be doing, but with a little nudge from someone, she’ll swiftly get back on track. She won't stand down when confronted about something she doesn't want to do or thinks is wrong, but if it’s an request from Tiamat or one of her fellow gods or goddesses, she’ll probably do it. After some consideration, of course.

-Flaws/Weaknesses: One of Tsila’s greatest flaws would have to be her inability to stay out of trouble. She highly dislikes being caught out/put on the spot outside of her plans; it unnerves her and she’s likely to lash out, verbally or psychically, and rather violently as well. Her other flaws include vanity, wrath, pride and greed, among others. The list is endless, really. After all, even a goddess isn’t perfect.

Power/s: Like most gods and goddesses, Tsila has many abilities, which have never truly been named in the presence of mortals. She protects anyone who calls themselves thief, assassin, pick-pocket and the like.

History: Tsila’s history is long and some of it is ancient. Most of her past is shrouded in mystery and unknown. Not even the gods know how or when they were created, or even if they were born--well, except for Tiamat. Tiamat is mother of all, after all. Besides that, Tsila has been in many ancient battles and minor tavern brawls, and has had many lovers over the thousands upon thousands of years she’s been around, along with many children from those affairs.

Lately, Tsila has been wandering the mortal realm. She was in Tsila’s Den at the same time as Dismas while all the drama unfolded--she was, in fact, the goddess who granted him Immortality. She knows all about what happened in Tsila’s Den, since, of course, she was there. Until she disappeared from that city. She rarely goes back there, and has moved on. To Daraz. She is there to watch over Vance and Neri, though he ‘watching over’ includes doing nothing until she finds she must do so, or she is requested to do so by another god/goddess or one of her children, or even one of those she granted Immortality to.

Now in Daraz, as Nisha Oulam, she’s wandering the street and keeping an eye on things. Apparently she knows her favourite three Immortals have everything under control, despite the fact that she sent one of them into a trap that broke him. She hopes that they will forgive her eventually, but doesn’t care if do so or not. She can still cause some trouble for that infuriating upstart named Jakome.

Up For Love? Tsila seems mostly uninterested in ‘love’, and more interested a fling, or a long-term lover.

Other: She always carries a dagger or several, but not all are in plain sight. Just because she’s a goddess doesn’t mean she can protect herself.

___________________________________________


Little Lord:
Name: Mikel Sankar, ‘Lord Sankar’.
Age: 14.
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Rank: Lord.
Allegiance: Himself, Jakome, and his companion, Karvan.

Appearance: Mikel is around 5’5 in height with pale skin, blue-black hair and startling blue eyes, one of which is missing and therefore covered with an eye patch. He’s rather thin for his age, despite his richer upbringing. He likes to wear extremely expensive, good quality clothes and hates to wear anything that isn’t the best of the best. He favours darker blues and greens.
Spoiler! :
ImageImageImageImage


Personality: Mikel is a bit of a problem child. He seems timid, kind and naive at first but he's not shy or afraid to speak his mind, even if he gets hurt or into trouble because of it and he often gets into trouble for speaking his mind. Luckily someone has always seemed to be there to get him out of it. Fierce and loyal, if sneaky and more than a little selfish, Mikel can't stand to see those he cares about hurt or threatened. He's not timid, but he is kind of blunt and can sometimes come off as cold and uncaring. Even incredibly selfish on occasion. He has a tendency to be snobbish and forget about those he cares for, if he even really cares at all. He does have a fiery temper, but he'll only lose it when he's been pushed too far. And it’s not a pretty sight when he’s throwing a fit.

He never panics when backed into a corner and knows how best to cause trouble. A lot of trouble. Either by general snobbish behaviour--ignoring people when he doesn't get his way, treating others as disposable and unimportant--or begging tactics designed to get under someones skin and get exactly what he wants. Or he just steals it/has it stole. He really has an obsession with himself, almost to the point of being unhealthy. He likes violence, fighting, death,almost to the point of it being scary. He dislikes rules--he never did like them. After all, weren't they made to be broken? Also likes sunrise, the stars, the moon, the sun, life, getting his own way/whatever he wants and/or likes and his freedom. He'd hate it if he didn’t have his freedom.

Mikel can be quite the actor sometimes and is very good at sneaking around, hardly ever getting caught at it. With these skills, he makes the perfect spy. After all, who would suspect of a boy of being Jakome’s right hand? He does have a tendency to forget about what it is he's supposed to be doing, but with a little nudge from Karvan, he’s swiftly put back on track. He won't stand down when confronted about something he doesn't want to do or thinks is wrong, but if it’s an order from Jakome, he’ll follow it mostly without question.

-Flaws/Weaknesses: Mikel’s greatest flaw would have his inability to stay out of trouble. He’s a bit of an actor--but only when he wants something. He highly dislikes being caught out/put on the spot outside of his plans; it unnerves him and he’s likely to lash out, verbally or psychically, and rather violently as well.

Power/s: None, except for his mile wide trouble-making streak. He doesn’t know how Jakome puts up with him.

History: Mikel was born into the House of Sankar deep within the kingdom of Esceos to Lord and Lady Sankar. The Sankar family was unheard of a few decades ago, but they swiftly rose to become the Esceos royal family’s secret police, of sorts. Mikel’s childhood was like any lord-to-be’s childhood;full of lessons, childish pranks and games, and stern lectures on how and how not to behave when in royal company. He was mainly raised with Jakome’s protection in mind, learning all he could to one day be able to step into his father’s shoes. That day came sooner than he thought.

A few days after his tenth birthday, Mikel returned home to find his entire family dead. Murdered by an unknown enemy. And standing amidst the carnage was a tall, dark-haired man. Mikel could only stare at the scene in shock as the man turned to face him. The young lord asked the man about what he was doing, who he was and why he was standing over the rest of his family, blood soaking into the thick rugs on the floor. The man replied with his name, Karvan, and the fact that he wasn’t mortal. This shocked Mikel; what kind of person wasn’t mortal? Karvan proceeded to explain that as an Immortal, he was bound by unwritten laws to help those in need of it.

That comment angered Mikel, and like any ten-year-old boy, he threw a fit. A very violent one. Fueled by rage and sorrow, he ranted and shouted for hours. Until Karvan calmed him by stating, quite calmly, that he knew (and had actually seen) who had murdered Mikel’s family. Mikel froze, mid-tantrum, and turned to Karvan. He gave him the strangest look for a long time before asking the Immortal why he chose to help him. Karvan stated that it was just the way it was. They made a deal; Karvan would help Mikel if the Immortal stayed by the young boy’s side until he said the Immortal could go. Karvan agreed.

Over the next four years, the pair searched every crevice, every nook and cranny for clues as to the Sankar family’s murderer. They found none; Karvan often said that the clues they found only led to an even more mysterious and vague figure. Someone else was behind the murder, and he just didn’t know who. After all, Karvan had only seen the group of bandits who actually did the deed, and those men had long since been found and killed.

Nowadays, Mikel acts as Jakome’s guard dog, or head of his secret police, in a way. He’s loyal to the king and he follows Jakome’s orders as closely as possible, unafraid to break rules to do so. As Jakome’s guard, it’s not uncommon for him to be seen in some rather unsavoury places, like Daraz. After all, Mikel is the perfect spy. Who would suspect a boy of being the Esceos king’s right hand?

Up For Love? ...He’s 14. I think that’s a no. Besides, he shares a brotherly love with Karvan...as to how twisted that love is? It would best not to say.

Other: Despite his age, Mikel carries a dagger. It is always hidden out of sight.
Last edited by ScarlettFire on Wed Nov 02, 2011 1:53 pm, edited 8 times in total.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart


“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.





User avatar
82 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1850
Reviews: 82
Wed Oct 26, 2011 11:42 am
gleek456 says...



Hey Italy! How goes it? :) Save me the Princess of Esceo. Thank you!
YOU'VE GOT THAT ONE THING





User avatar
82 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1850
Reviews: 82
Wed Oct 26, 2011 10:26 pm
View Likes
gleek456 says...



Name: Peshet Kaia (Input King's last name)

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Rank: Royal

Allegiance: Eceo King, self

Appearance: Peshet looks as royal as she is. With the long, brown locks and eyes bluer than the sky, she is a beautiful princess. Peshet has a heart shaped face and a toned, but slightly pale complexion. She always has lips as red as a rose, and light cheeks. She is a bit tall, and has a slim figure. She has big eyes and long eyelashes, in which she uses for her advantage. Peshet always appears skinny, and usually wears gowns outside of the palace, and light gowns inside the palace. She always wears a flower in her hair, no matter what.

Spoiler! :
Image


Her usual dress
Spoiler! :
Image


Personality: Peshet is a very clever girl. She has this whole facade going on whenever she's in front of her father or her royal subjects. Peshet shows everyone that she's a power-hungry girl, like her father, who would do anything to keep her rank. She appears to be cruel, spoiled, and that she shows no mercy. Peshet puts on a pretty good act, and she has kept this up for a long time.

Although, if you take the time to watch Peshet without her knowing, you'll see that she is the total opposite of her act. Peshet is actually kind-hearted and giving. She's very thoughtful and considerate, and she thinks she's a big sinner because of her act. Even if she shows her true self to you, she might change to her act if she sees anyone important. Peshet is excellent at lying, and she's a very good actress too.

Power/s: Peshet does not have any powers at all. Although, she is an excellent sword-fighter. She always keeps a sword nearby just in case.

History: Peshet was born to King Jakome and Queen Liza. She had a pretty good childhood, until Queen Liza died from a deadly epidemic. Peshet was heartbroken, and King Jakome was distressed. It definitely put a dent in these two, but that didn't stop King Jakome. He became power-hungry, and wanted to look down on everyone. Peshet tried to make sense of this, but nothin worked. So, to satisfy her father, she decided to act just like him and possibly earn some respect.

This didn't help with Peshet's social skills. Whenever anyonce tried socializing with her in front of her dater or royal subjects, they always leave right after Peshet finishes her sentence, to her father's approval. But, Peshet always sneaks off away from the palace, wearing a dark cloak, holding a basket of fruit, and handing them out to the slaves before sneaking off.

Up For Love? Yes, but because of her personality act, you could be easily fooled.

Anything we've missed? N/A
Last edited by gleek456 on Sun Oct 30, 2011 1:13 pm, edited 2 times in total.
YOU'VE GOT THAT ONE THING





User avatar
180 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 771
Reviews: 180
Thu Oct 27, 2011 10:11 pm
Cspr says...



Name: Prostlon
Age: Twenty-five
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Rank: Resistance member (perhaps the leader's favorite sidekick?)
Allegiance: Other (either self or gods)

Appearance: (Description and picture. No Scene, artwork is okay.) Prostlon is a 'classic' beauty in the same way an old femme fatale of film noir was one; she has naturally dark lips and higher cheekbones. Only, she keeps her hair cut short as she can pull off without being seen suspect and up, pulled away from snatching hands high and tight on her head. Her nose is thin and her mouth is generally set in a half-scowl. She doesn't look welcoming and her bone-y yet muscular body that lacks too much femininity doesn't help things, either. Otherwise, she has dark, slanted eyes, one marked at the corner with a dark birthmark. She tends to wear dark clothing and owns a blackish cloak trimmed in gray-white fur. She always has her trusty short-sword at her hip.
(In other news, the picture looks more or less like her, but her hair is shorter.) Link to Picture: http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9 ... K05yaynOQ1

Personality:

Likes--The sky, the sound of rushing water, and fresh food--you can tell she doesn't much like living down in the bowels of the earth. She loves the desert, all the different colors of sand and haze in the distance. She also likes horses and her family used to breed them, her mother a horse trainer. Otherwise, she also likes flavorful food--spicy, sweet, sour--and fine fabrics. She has an eye for quality, having been raised rich before going 'dark side'.

Dislikes--Filth, being crowded/hemmed in, people touching her without her approval, and chocolate.

Strengths: She can mentally handle a lot and be weighed down with plenty of tasks but keep her head on straight. She's reliable. She doesn't mind battle or bloodshed, though she'd do almost anything to avoid it with a cunning tongue and sharp wit. She's also companionable, charismatic enough to make up for her faults.

Weaknesses: She isn't used to living in uncomfortable conditions and she hates the cold damp; she was desert born and shouldn't be forced to live in a rabbit's borrow in her personal opinion, not that she'd complain (much). She's too proud. Oh, and, in regard to weaknesses? Pride.

Power/s: She isn't sure if it's a power--but she can control animals better than she should. In other news, she also has occasionally bent steel for a few coins. It's impressive in taverns. But don't tell anyone she does. It's unladylike to be--strong like that. Did she ever have that idea impressed into her mind.

History:

Prostlon was born in the middle of the city in a bustling area. Her parents were rich, one a animal trainer for the king (her mother), and the other a blacksmith and silversmith who used to work the fields before his richer wife showed favor to him. She grew up in an environment that could be considered odd, she supposes. They lived in a large house with white-washed walls and terraces (mostly filled with desert plants, but still), an oasis in the middle of the dusty city, and they had thirteen of their own horses, most purebred and kept gorgeous.
Once she was fourteen, she rode under a false name in a few of the king's races--and won some coin. She was very proud of her little deceptions and her mother was, too. The woman never really got honesty unless it came to animals; she wasn't a people-pleaser, even if the keeper they got for her attempted to brow-beat her into going against her desert fox temperament.
She was the fiance of a man named Athal, a foreign man. Unfortunately, he was assassinated on the way to her house--dragged from his carriage and murdered. It was found this was the doing of the King of Esceos, supposedly for something he knew, going by her lovely spider-like informers.
She's taken to attempting a revolution in backlash. It's the only thing she can do. She was never one to submit easily.

Up For Love? Yes, eventually. However, she sort of just had a fiance die on her. Tact may be in order. Or, if the other character has no tact--drama. Otherwise, I'm rather sure she's straight as a needle and, no, I don't have anything planned with another writer.

Other: She brought down two of her finest horses into the caverns; a chestnut half-draft and a spotted riding horse. Somehow the only time she feels alive is when she's around her horses. (Her magic abilities, however not matured, require other beings energy, just FYI--and guess what she feeds off?) They won't have much to do with the story, though--but if she rides into battle at any point? Explanation found!

(Hope this is okay! Also, may snag a slave [or possibly solider] guy later on. We'll see--and I'll try not to keep you waiting!)
My SPD senses are tingling.





User avatar
104 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1145
Reviews: 104
Thu Oct 27, 2011 11:39 pm
View Likes
paintingtherain97 says...



Dropping out, sorry
Last edited by paintingtherain97 on Thu Nov 03, 2011 9:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known..." A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens.





User avatar
66 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1882
Reviews: 66
Thu Nov 03, 2011 2:11 am
View Likes
SisterItaly says...



H'okay, we're starting. A reminder to those I've PMed to edit your profiles or else I'll eat your faces. (Or have everyone ignore your posts. Take your pick.) And Cspr, since you seem to have completely ignored my message I'll tell you publicly. No horses in an underground tunnel. It just doesn't work.

I'd also like you all to post in the DT.
~~~~

Neri | Throne Room

She glared back on the man in her throne. Her rightful spot. Her’s and Vance’s. Not his. They built up this city, not him. He looked as smug as usual, and it angered her greatly. There wasn’t much she could do in her physical condition, or with his bloody guards in the room. The king did a terrific job of defending himself against any retaliation she made thus far, though. Not that she wanted to think about that.

“Peshet, my wonderful daughter. Why don’t you go run along and find the general? I need a word with him,” he scoffed before sinking further down into her throne. She hated sitting beside him on the ground like some common dog.

The princess nodded before slipping out of the room.

“Your brother has been a bit of a problem. He tried to run off again yesterday. I’m going to have Oded punish him personally. It should be interesting. On public display. For a couple of gods you don’t defend yourselves very well.” Neri didn’t reply. Instead she continued to glare daggers up at the man. “Or maybe I’ll have Shakil do it. Wouldn’t that be a bite in the ass? Having the man you both ‘raised to health’ and work as your personal guard whipping you.” Neri cringed, and Jakome smiled. “Whipping him. Until, he bleeds.”

She clenched her fists and took a few deep breaths. Jakome continued to smile down at her until she finally looked away and brushed her hair from her face. He let out an amused chuckle.

“Let my people go,” she growled, her eyes not looking back up to his. “Let my brother go, and let my city go.”

The king just laughed.

Shakil | Patrolling with Oded

Shakil gripped the hilt of his sword as he watched the people-- Eceo and Daraz alike --stumbling around the markets in their midday rush. He’d never understand why their leader took interest in places like this. Places in the middle of the scorching desert where stepping outside the city could get the flesh ripped from your very bones in a sandstorm.

“I’ll never understand--” he started, letting his eyes drift over to a couple of fair-skinned children. Obviously they weren’t from around here. Everyone within a thousand miles had sun-kissed dark skin. “--How people can just abandon their homelands, and their rulers,” he sighed.

Oded glanced back at the younger man, his eyes searching his blank face for a moment before replying. "Those here might have a better chance to live here than..." he trailed off, making Shakil give him an odd look of disapproval.

“Well, they don’t seem to be doing very well now. We’ve taken their puny city in record time.” Because he betrayed them. “We’ve taken their ‘new life’. Running away from whatever they were just landed them in more trouble.” Because you betrayed her.

Oded was about to respond, when the princess ran up. Both men gave her a slight bow and waited for her permission to rise, which was given quickly.

“Is there something we can assist you with, Princess?” Shakil asked smoothly, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it with a light brush of his lips. He caught out of the corner of his eye, the look that Oded gave him but he ignored it completely.

Vance | Dungeon

“Vance? Are you down here?”

The man in question let his head roll up and gazed around the stony room for the source of the voice. It was like trying to find a needle in... murky water. A haystack didn’t work in this case. He hated this, feeling so defeated. Chained to the wall like some common animal. They could crush his arms and legs and beat his head in but they’d never take his pride.

“Come back for more?” He let out a hoarse laugh as he pushed himself so he was sitting upright against the wall. He’d managed to at least land some damage on the damn guards. “C’mere you pathetic excuse for a man, I’ll kick your teeth down your--” he cringed as he coughed, “teeth down your throat.”

If he could conjure up the energy he would, too. Vance was never one to make idle threats.

The owner of the voice finally stepped into the light, making Vance relax greatly and then begin to worry all over again. Dismas. What was he doing here? Dismas knew what would happen if he got caught-- especially down here.

“Relax, it’s just me,” he murmured as he shuffled over to the immortal. “My gods, you look awful.”

“Well, you should see the other guy,” Vance mumbled before giving another breathy chuckle. “You can’t stay too long. They’re going to bring me up and have me--” He cringed again.

“Whipped, I know.”

“In front of everyone. Even Neri. That sick bastard is going to make her watch.” Vance gritted his teeth together and turned his head away from the man. If he say Vance cry it would be a shameful thing. Vance wasn’t supposed to cry, he was supposed to be strong enough for all three of them.

“I know.”

There was a moment of silence. Not an awkward silence. A heavy silence. A painful silence. Vance’s arms felt heavy in the shackles above his head.

“Then why the hell did you bother coming down? Shouldn’t you be helping the others figure out how to get my sister and I out of this hell hole? Or have they given up on us like the slaves have?” The slaves, their words hurt more than the lashings. They shunned him and his sister. Even after all the work they put into fixing up their city and straightening out their lives.

Alois | Mikel’s House

Alois sighed and leaned against the arm of the chair. Mikel’s servant-- butler-- manthing was taking his sweet time in fetching his master. Despite the fact Mikel was so loyal to that dog of a man Jakome, Alois thought he may have a friend in the other young lord. Which was why when all was said and done, he wouldn’t tell him he was using him for information.

If he got to stay, of course.

The door finally opened and Mikel strode into the room. Followed by Servant Butler Manthing. Alois was going to grow fond of his little nickname for the man. Who knew? Maybe Alois would care enough one day to remember his actual name. For now; Mikel was his priority.

“Ah, I was wondering how much longer you were going to leave me to my-- thoughts,” Alois shot the older boy a wink, which in return got him an odd look.

“Long enough for you to get bored and come find me yourself. I see that would have taken longer than expected.” The older boy took a seat opposite to Alois, looking down at the chess set. Of course Alois would set the white pieces up on his side; white moved first. Alois did it mostly for the irony of it all, white being a pure color and Alois being well-- not pure.

He picked up a piece and moved it forward, not really mindful of how he was placing things. Mikel picked up his piece and placed his strategically. Aloise, again, placed another piece where ever the rules would allow. The pattern went on as so as the game continued.

“I hear there’s going to be a public whipping today, will I see you there?” Alois’ gaze flickered up to the older lord from the chess board. The Servant Butler Manthing was still in the room, and it put Alois on edge. He didn’t want to try anything too obvious with that mountain of a man there.

“Of course.” Mikel moved another piece on the board, drawing back Alois’ attention. “Check.” The younger lord grumbled under his breath as he moved the king from harm’s way.

“By your own wishes or by his?”

The older boy looked up and met Alois’ gaze head on, but said nothing. His eyes didn’t even leave the younger lord’s as he moved another piece on the board. “Check.”

Alois glowered and moved the king piece again, hiding it behind his pawn. He swore he could see Servant Butler Manthing chuckling off to one side out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t see how this was amusing.

“We should go together, then. I can hold you if you get scared,” Alois purred, leaning forward and letting his face rest in the palm of his hand as he looked up to Mikel. When the older lord gave him another one of those odd looks he sat up and let out a quiet laugh. “But in all seriousness, I don’t know how your little stomach can handle so much blood.”

“When your leader wants you to do something, you listen to him. He’s obviously having me go for a reason. Checkmate.”

Alois glared down at the board, hard. The knight had his king cornered, and the rook off to one side would make moving the king piece pointless. Very funny, Mikel.
"Even in the end --even in death-- I can't hate you." - Neri Hereford's last words.

"The Gods demand blood, for they... do not bleed." Jaska.

The Book.





User avatar
212 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 12011
Reviews: 212
Thu Nov 03, 2011 12:44 pm
View Likes
ScarlettFire says...



Dismas | Daraz - Dungeon;

“No one has given up on you, Vance,” Dismas said, approaching the other man. He eyed the chains warily, as if they might jump up and chain him to the wall, too. He stopped short of Vance, crouching to be on the same level as him. “I haven’t, Neri hasn’t.” He smiled softly, albeit a bit nervously, at Vance. “Arjana hasn’t and I’m sure Tsila is still around somewhere.”

Dismas watched the other man, worried. The chains were making the edges of his vision dark, but he would endure it, if only for Vance. Dismas but his lip, shifting slightly. Vance looked like he might start crying at any minute. This was definitely not the Vance Dismas remembered from Tsila’s Den. He had to remember that if he couldn’t remember anything else.

“Vance?” he asked, very worried now. His friend hadn’t said anything and the sight of the chains wasn’t doing any good for his sanity. He might be fine most of the time, but one wrong move, one wrong word or even fighting and he would break all over again. Dismas didn’t want that anymore than he wanted that man on Neri’s throne or Neri and Vance in his hands. He knew far too well what the man was capable of.

“Still around, sure,” Vance snorted, bringing Dismas’s head up. The other man wasn’t looked at him. “But I’ll bet she won’t help if we ask.” Finally, Vance made the effort to meet Dismas’s gaze. “After all, didn’t she send you right into a trap? Into Ja--”

“Don’t say his name!” Dismas gasped, scrambling backwards and away from Vance. Panic clouded his eyes for a moment. Vance looked like he really wanted to pull Dismas into his arms right now. But sadly, that was impossible with Vance chained to a wall.

“Right into his hands,” Vance said softly, watching as Dismas clutched his chest. Dismas was avoiding his gaze, shaking badly as he rode out his little moment of breaking. Finally, his hand dropped away from his chest and he got up off the floor, dusting off his pants. He still refused to look at Vance, though. “I’m sorry, Dismas. I forgot.”

Dismas nodded, hugging himself. He was about to respond when the footsteps echoed down a corridor on the far side of the dungeon. Dismas shot Vance a startled look. Vance only appeared resigned. “I’ll come back for you, Vance. I promise.” Dismas vanished into the shadows just before a figure appeared out of the gloom. He didn’t stay to listen to what the man had to say.

Mikel Sankar | His Home - Daraz;

“When your leader wants you to do something, you listen to him. He’s obviously having me go for a reason.” Mikel watched his friend as the younger boy watched him. “Checkmate.” Alois looked down and glared at the chess board. Mikel hid his smirk, glancing towards Karvan. He knew winning against Alois would be easy. The boy didn’t pay attention to how the game was played. If he did, he would make a much better opponent.

“Oh, ha. Ha.” Mikel’s attention returned to Alois. The other boy was glaring at him. He supposed he did deserve it. After all, hadn’t Mikel left Alois alone in the room for a little while? The younger lord tended to get bored rather quickly.

“My lord,” Karvan announced, drawing both the boy’s attention. “It is time.”

Mikel sighed and stood up, joining his friend by the door to the hall. “Very well, then,” he said and glanced towards Alois where he still sat in the chair. Mikel smirked openly. “Are you coming or not, Alois?”

Alois glared back at him. “I am most definitely not going, thank you very much, Mikel.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have the stomach for public torture.”

Mikel just shrugged. “Alright, then,” he said and stepped out into the hall. “But you can’t stay here either.” With that, Mikel started down the hall, Karvan flicked the younger boy a mocking glance before he closed the door and followed Mikel. “Karvan, did you find anything on the murderer?”

The Immortal gave the boy an unreadable look. “Not yet, Mikel. But we’re getting there.” They turned a corner. “My searching leads me to believe that the one behind it is in this city.” He fell silent, his eyes on Mikel as the boy led them through the house and out onto the streets.

“But you still don’t know who.” That was a statement, not a question. Karvan didn’t bother to answer; Mikel knew what it would be anyway. Even Karvan was predictable on some occasions. Right now, though, Mikel and his companion had more pressing problems. Jakome wanted them there when they whipped the red-haired god. Mikel wanted to know why.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart


“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.





User avatar
82 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1850
Reviews: 82
Thu Nov 03, 2011 11:23 pm
View Likes
gleek456 says...



Peshet | Palace Grounds

"Peshet, my wonderful daughter. Why don’t you go run along and find the general? I need a word with him," Father said. Obviously I wouldn't want anything horrid to happen if I said that I was too... tired to run along and fetch General, so I made an attempt to walk out of the room.

I pulled my hair over my shoulder as I walked down the steps of the palace and towards the two men patrolling. I wonder what's going on without my presence in there. I stopped in my tracks. Why does Father want the General in the first place? Has he declared war? Is he going to pass a law, and needs General Oded's help? I have so many questions, but those will be answered soon, I hope. I continued walking and stopped in front of the two men. My God, it's hot out here.

"Is there something we can assist you with, Princess?" Soldier Shakil asked, before taking my hand and kissing it. I rolled my eyes and pulled my hand away.

"Yes, thank you very much," I said. I turned to General Oded. "Your King wants to speak with you."

And I will have my questions answered.

"King Jakome? May you tell me why?" he asked. I looked at the sky.

"There are things my Father will tell me, and things my Father won't tell me. Now move along before my Father loses patience," I warned. General Oded nodded and disappeared into the palace. General Shakil just stood there, staring at me.

"What? Get back to work!" I demanded. He squinted at me before turning around. I sighed and walked back into the palace.

(Sorry it's a bit short, and I hope it's okay. I'm sort of working on homework while typing this. xD)
YOU'VE GOT THAT ONE THING





User avatar
42 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 1717
Reviews: 42
Fri Nov 04, 2011 12:25 am
View Likes
Shadowlight says...



Sian/Military officials home (garden):

I was safe- for the moment. As soon as I had awoken I had slipped away out of doors and lost myself in the garden. Waking up beside that man filled me with revision and despair- how could this have happened to me?!

Wandering through the overgrown paths, I prayed the pure morning air would wash away the memory of the night before, purge me of all feeling.

The sun was just beginning to rise when I finally stopped, deep in the labyrinth of bushes, and sat myself on a ancient iron wrought seat. I buried my head in my hands and waited for the tears to come, but they didn't. I had cried so often, not it seemed as if I had no tears left.

“Will you not even grant me this small relief!?” I hissed angrily to the heavens, not aglow with a soft gently rosy light- a mockery to my suffering. “You're not listening, you never did.” I continued angrily, butchering the small flower I had picked to shredded ribons. “Why did you do this to us? You promised to care for us yet look what has happened! I prayed and believed in you faithfully and look what it has done to me! I am nothing more-!” Then the tears came, the blessed tears. I sobbed my whole frame shaking. I cried for myself, my family, everything. Everything I had ever known had fallen about my ears and I was left tottering on the jagged pieces.

Suddenly my stomach turned, this had been happening of late. I swallowed trying to force it back but to no avail. I lost my stomach in one of the small rose bushes.

-what is wrong with me? Am I getting sick now of all time?.... if I am ill would he leave me alone then?

My mind turned to that possibility. I was willing to be sick as a dog if it would grant me peace.

I sat back down on the seat, I would have sat there for the rest of the day if I had not known he would come looking for me. He never gave me long to myself. It was still early when I heard the tramp of his heavy military boots, crunching in the stones of the paths.

“Ah, there you are my nightingale.” he purred when he saw me, the sound made me feel sick again.

-would my hell never end?


************************************************


Oded/ Palace, then outside somewhere:


I quickly walked through the branching hallways of the Temple, now turned palace for the king. Being inside a holy place such as this put me on edge, something sacrilegious about it...

Her Highness, the princess, had told me her father wished to see me- “have a word with me.” as she had said, only after Shakil had flirted shamelessly with her. When will that man learn not to break ranks!?

“Idiot.” I mumbled to myself thinking about it. Anything wearing a skirt-and above a certain age- wasn't safe from him. He was shameless. I shook my head, chuckling a little, he may be a pain in the ass but he was entertaining at least.... but I would have to speak to him later.

As I neared the throne room I began to feel uneasy, there was an air of expectant dread or excitement coming from that room. I pushed it open and strode in before the guards had a chance to open them for me- I didn't see the need, I could easily open a door. All the eyes in the room fell of me as I entered and I made a short bow to my king, he smiled that oily smile of his- this wasn't going to end well.

“Ah, General Murtagh, I'm pleased you came so quickly.” his smile deepened as the goddess crumpled at his feet, let out a choked sob. “I have a favor to ask of you.” he stepped from the great throne and came closer.

“Anything majesty.” I said my brows furrowing.

-what was he planning?


The king seemed to take an unholy delight in tormenting the goddess. He looked back at her and winked before turning to me again, she spat at him.

-The woman did have balls, I'll give her that much.
“I'm sure you heard about the... shall we say incident that happened early this morning?”

-Incident?

“My lord?” I said haltingly, he was playing a game and unfortunately I had no idea which one. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes moving away.

“Yes General. It seems the; omnipotent, all powerful, celestial god of this city tried to leave the temple. That is a thing that cannot be. You must also know this is the third time he had tried this even though we have “reprimanded” him on is most earnestly.”

-the mans powers of cruelty were amazing to behold.


The goddess was slowly breaking before my eyes as she listened to the king. At last she could bare it no longer.

“You heartless monster!” she said, her voice sending shivers down my spine- it was full of icy hatred. “He is doing what any man would be doing.” Jakome's grin widened if that were possible, and in mock seriousness he nodded in agreement.

“Of course, but my holy, lovely one, your brother is not a man- he is a god. Gods can't just walk out among the mortal, they are supposed to be secluded away from the filth of the world- like you are now.”

“I wouldn't say I am.” she said firing back. Needless to say I was getting uncomfortable, they were fighting not in the usual way, but with words. That wasn't the kind of fight I was used too. Jakome turned to me, all play leaving him.

“I'm going to make an example of Vance.” he said flatly. “He needs to learn that he is not all powerful- I am. There will be a public flogging, then all the people of this city will see what their god really is.” he stopped and looked keenly at me, I felt I had to fill up the ghastly silence.

“Very well sire. I will-”

“Oded I want you to be the one to flog him.” he interrupted, I stared blankly at him.

“M-my lord?” I stammered.

“Oh come on now Oded!” Jakome laughed mirthlessly, “You are my right hand, the Wolf of Esceos! The so called god Vance is the sheep, you the wolf, I want you to beat him, break him.”

My heart died a little more as he spoke. I thought I was done playing that part for him, but even now, I was nothing better then Jakome's instrument of torture. I squared my shoulders.

“When my lord?” The goddess gave another choked sob, my eyes flitted to her. She glared at me, hatred purely written on her lovely face.

“Three hours time.” Jakome yawned lazily returning to his seat. “I don't want to keep the “god” waiting.” he nodded towards the door- the signal that he was done with me. I bowed, glancing again at the broken goddess, she had tears running down her cheeks. Again my heart died a little within me.

-What had I become?


*********

I stood on the platform that had been erected in the city square, Jakome never did things by halves. The long leather whip in my hands had a viciously knotted tip, to better cause pain and bleeding as I knew all to well. The scars on my back had been given me by such a lash.

I had gone to that place,  the place of no emotion. Where I shut out all feeling, my very humanity to an extent. It was how I had made it this far without loosing my sanity. I could block it all out-at least until later when I was alone.

I stood there shifting my weight from foot, to foot as the minutes ticked by. Jakome sat at the edge of the platform, in a sort of gilded chair he had found somewhere. The goddess once again crumpled at his feet, but she held herself straighter now- her people were watching. Jakome had her hands bound with a thin rope, the end of this was tied to the chair. Though the city was subdued, there still was a threat of retaliation, also there was word of a resistance that was planning to rest the two gods from our hands.

“How long is it going to take those fools?!” Jakome hissed angrily, his mood was turning. The goddess looked about, the faintest shimmer of hope mayhap?

That shimmer faded abruptly when the small group- with the fiery haired god in their midst, came into view. I stifled a gasp, they had already beaten him terribly! the dried blood staining his face and clothes was enough to prove they hadn’t had much mercy with him. His lip was split and still bleeding and there was  myriad of bruises starting to form.

I walked over to the king and leaned down.

“My lord, they have already had at him- the guards. Is it necessary for-” Jakome glared.

“Of course you’re still going to have your fun! those boy have merely given the “god” a warm up.” I backed off then, I couldn’t help but notice the goddess’s eye brimming with tears.

“Oh Vance...” she breathed, her lip quivering. I felt the wall I had put up weaken.

-Why am I doing this?

It took all of the six guards to drag the slight form of the god up the steps of the platform, he fought them so. Even like this his green eyes flashed defiance and contempt at Jakome, but he paled suddenly when he saw his sister.

“Why is she here? Why did you bring her?” he demanded, his voice was hoarse and broken.

-had then given him anything to eat or drink since his banishment to his cell?

Jakome laughed and not taking his eyes from the god, slowly- too slowly stroked the goddess's hair. she shied away sharply and glared daggers, her bother strained at his captors.

“You touch her Jakome I will rip you apart!” he snarled, fighting the guards all the harder. One yanked him around and punched him squarely in the jaw.

“Vance!” his sister shouted, trying to rise but Jakome forced her to sit again.

“Please Vance, don’t be a fool. I only brought her here because I thought you might want to see her. It was only a thoughtful gesture on my part.

“Thoughtful my ass!” The god shouted back spitting at Jakome.

-These two have a thing for spitting.....

“Get on with it!” Jakome called to the guards, “Let’s get on with the show.” he giggled manically, rubbing his hands together.

The guards dragged the still struggling god to the two stout posted in the center of the platform. they bound him tightly between and stepped back- it was my turn. I fingered the lash in my hands for a second before letting it fly out to  crack loudly just shy of the god’s left ear. she started sharply and there was a peal of disdainful laughter from some of the crowd. As I coiled the lash again I walked forwards, till I was abreast of him.

“I can go slowly, giving you time to recover between the lashings,” I said out of the corner of my mouth quietly. “Or I can go swiftly- get it over with.”

“Bite me.” he spat, refusing to meet my eyes. I blinked, my emotions choked back again.

“Fine, have it your way.” I strode back to my original place and unfurling the vicious cord swung it in a graceful arch to land with a crack, across the gods shoulders. He shuddered violently, hands trembling. I long ugly red welt slowly rose to the surface of his skin, distorting the tattoos that decorated his torso. I brought my arm back again, and again. Two other welts joined the first. It wasn’t until the fifth that the skin broke and a thin beading of blood became visible.

“Please stop!” the goddess said from somewhere behind me, Jakome laughed.

“What not enjoying yourself love?”

The lash sang again and again, always ending with a loud crack as it smote the god. At lashing number eleven he groaned quietly, arching his back, in a subconscious, but futile attempt to escape the whip.

At lashing number fifteen, the goddess broke down weeping openly.

“Stop, please, stop!” she sobbed.  I looked back over my shoulder, her kohl makeup was running staining her cheeks and she was looking pleadingly up at Jakome. He for his part ignored her.

“Why have you stopped Oded? keep going.” he said eyes narrowing. I turned again and continued the relentless beating.

At lashing number twenty eight he cried out, slightly sinking downwards. With each subsequent lash stroke he either cried out or made some other noise of pain. his back was looking more and more like my own had all those years ago- it was tatters.

At thirty seven my own arm was beginning to grow weary, but I could also see the god was beginning to slowly lose his fight. He no longer straightened up between strokes, nor did he glare. His face was twisted into a mask of pain and suffering.


Something then snapped within me, I couldn’t go on like this. Why was I even doing this?! My hand fell to my side and I stared at the gods shredded back, blood forming sticky trails along the rough hewn boards. I coiled the lash up again and let it sing once again but the cracking knotted tip fell just short of the gods back, i had my own tricks.

Time and time again interspersed between the actual lashings I missed many of them, but no one noticed- or if they did they kept quiet. Jakome couldn’t tell the difference, and the god was too far gone to react anyway.

At lashing number forty nine I coiled the whip again, but not to let it sing. I walked back to Jakome.

“That wasn’t the seventy we had agreed on.” he said, voice dripping with venom. “He’s a immortal- he’s not going to die!” I nodded, trying to seem understanding.

“I know my lord, but he is going to pass out if I keep going. He would not feel the lashings then.” Jakome studied my face closely, he seemed pacified.

“Alright then.” He looked at the gasping, bleeding, broken god and smiled. “Well then Vance, you’ve gotten off easy- this time.” the god was too far gone to reply, he took only jagged breathes and groaned softly. “Take him away! our fun his over for this afternoon.”

As the guards baring the limp, staggering form away I walked over to them.

“If he sleeps on his back, he’ll find himself in hell tomorrow.” I said it as if I were addressing the guards, but I was looking at-Vance. “The blood will glue him to the ground and in the morning he will rip his wounds open afresh.”

......
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut





User avatar
66 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1882
Reviews: 66
Fri Nov 04, 2011 3:36 pm
View Likes
SisterItaly says...



Vance | Returning to his Cell

Every step brought more pain. He could feel the wounds stretch as they forced him to keep walking, and it made him want to be sick to his stomach. And just to add insult to injury, he could hear the words of others around him. “Pathetic” being one of those that stood out. That’s what he was, pathetic. He couldn’t protect his city, his people, he couldn’t even protect his family.

But the general had taken pity on him.

At least, that’s how it seemed. Many times he had heard the lash crack, but he never felt the blow. It confused him; the general had no reason to take pity on him. He even made sure to warn him of what would happen if he slept on his back. Then again, it could have been schadenfreude. You never knew with these sadistic bastards.

His stomach twisted. He had just been like that. With Cassandra. This was the gods punishing him for being so cruel to her, but why would they let this happen to all of his people? To his sister.

He forced himself to stop thinking like that. He was beginning to sound like the slaves who spat on him. Arjana was in the city, surely he would help him. Tsila would, too. Wouldn’t she? She had to. She had been the one to make Vance immortal in the first place-- she couldn’t turn her back on her own creations.

“Keep walking!” Something hard hit his back, making him cry out in pain. New tears washed away the old ones that had dried to his face, and brought on a new headache.

Neri | Attempting Escape

No, this wasn’t right. They couldn’t just have their fun with her brother and throw him back in that place to fester and bleed until he passed out and woke up to feel the pain all over again. Neri stared at the faces around her-- people going back to work after their afternoon entertainment. Entertainment at her brother’s and her expense. Why wasn’t anyone stopping this?

Another cry rang out. It made her want to heave. He was suffering and no one was helping them. She felt betrayed; she had helped them in there time of need. She didn’t have to, but Neri threw herself into fixing all the broken people in this city. The tortured, the thieves, the murderers. She hadn’t given up on a single one of them, yet they had given up on them.

Neri didn’t know what she was doing, she just acted as if it were instinct. She yanked at the rope until the fray gave in and she snapped away from her cruel master. Jakome reach out to snatch her, but she managed to slip away. Every bone in her body screamed at her to stop trying to run, but her feet pounded against the stone.

“Are you happy? You’ve broke me! Now leave me alone!”

She pushed through the crowd as she heard Jakome yell at his general and the gaurds standing around to get her. To not let her escape. She was broken, why would he want to keep a broken woman?

She shuddered.

There was no way she wanted to find out.

Shakil | The Town Square

He hadn’t been standing close; he didn’t have the stomach to watch the man who held him when he cried be whipped. Vance had been a father figure to him when he had come to the city with the false story that he was a runaway slave and his master was trying to kill him. Jakome would kill him if he knew that he had been thinking of a way to help her escape.

“Get her!”

He snapped up straight as he saw the flash of red running towards him. The sword in his hand slipped and clattered to the ground as she noticed him. Her face twisted in confusion and pain. He had to stop himself from flinging his arms open and letting her run in for a hug.

Instead he allowed her to run right past him, and bump him in the shoulder as she did so. Oded shot him a desperate look, one that said ‘just go get her.’ Oded knew that he had been intimate with Neri during his time spying on the city, but the man didn’t know that he had developed actual feelings for her.

Swiftly, the man turned and ran back towards his own house. Oded and the others would catch Neri easily, and he didn’t want to be there when they did.

Alois | The City

This wasn’t good. He hadn’t found anything while snooping through Mikel’s house, and he hoped he hadn’t left any signs that he had been snooping. People in the underground were already worrying that Jakome was suspicious of his and Mikel’s relationship. Alois didn’t need to give Mikel reason to believe him.

“My little nightingale,” hummed a nearby voice. Alois stopped right in his tracks.

”My little nightingale, mommy loves you,” whispered the image of a woman, her face blurred him Alois’ vision. The voice, it belonged to his mother. “No matter what, mommy will love you. Do you know why?” A little Alois shook his head. “Because you’re my special little man. My nightingale.”

His eyes settled on the dark hair girl. She looked scared. She looked like his mother... with darker hair. He couldn’t just walk away from her.

“You there! Good sir,” the young lord called as he briskly walked over to the guard and his slave. There was no way she could be anything more. The look in her eyes-- it held submission. Fear. Two emotions Alois knew. He had been afraid when he had come to the city, and let them do what they wanted with him. He was lucky enough to be taken care of.

“What do you want, little one?” he growled. Pleasant one, wasn’t he?

“How much for the girl?” Flat, to the point. He didn’t know why he was doing this in the first place.

The man let out a laugh. “What use do you have for a slave, little one? Run off before your daddy comes looking for you.”

Alois cringed. “I’ll have you know I am the head of the Elizar household. If you want, I’ll pay you handsomely for her. I just want the girl, my reasons are... personal.”

The other lord looked him over, but the two swapped. Money for the girl. The other lord walked off, acting as if he had gotten the better end of that deal. The girl said nothing, and followed behind Alois like a puppy. How peculiar.

“Come, I’ve got somewhere I need to be. If you behave, maybe it’ll be your new home.” Alois paused, asking himself why he was helping this woman. He didn’t even know her name.

Later, in the Tunnels

“W-where are we?” Finally, she says something.

“The underground, I’ll have someone explain it to you later,” he murmured. Liam was going to kill him for this. First, his snooping turned out to be a bust and now he had taken a woman from off the street and into the underground. An outsider. A slave, but still an outsider.

Speak of the dragon and here he comes.

“Hello, Liam. I hope you don’t mind-- I’ve brought a friend.” Alois nodded his head to the quiet girl who still had no name. The poor girl had to be so awfully confused.

The man glanced over to her, and out of the corner of his eye Alois saw her cringe. He didn’t blame her, the man had one hell of a look. Even when he was trying to be friendly he creeped the hell out of Alois.

“Did you find out anything?” Natural, the dragon was flat and to the point. No beating around the bush with this man.

“Well, Jakome is up to something.” But when wasn’t he? “We’ve just missed that ‘god’ getting whipped. They don’t want to be up there. Serves them right for not taking care of their people.”
"Even in the end --even in death-- I can't hate you." - Neri Hereford's last words.

"The Gods demand blood, for they... do not bleed." Jaska.

The Book.





User avatar
32 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 671
Reviews: 32
Sat Nov 05, 2011 3:15 am
View Likes
Redfang18 says...



Liam | The Tunnels

“Alois, what is it with this girl who’s with you? If memory serves from my father’s rules, we can’t have outsiders here unless they’re for the Resistance. You know the rules, don’t you?” Liam’s temper was just boiling up inside, but it was starting to get easy to hide it. His heart was almost aching at the mention of his father. It’s been years since he last spoke with his father, about a day before that man lost his life and passed leadership down to Liam. The scar on his brow often made him wish that his father was still alive, but it reminded him of that day he was double-crossed by someone he thought he trusted with his life. It’s been a year since he was double-crossed, so he made himself promise he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

When Alois didn’t answer, Liam clenched his fist and said, “Answer me when I ask you question. You don’t want to see me when I lose my temper.” In fact, hardly anyone wanted to see him when he loses his temper. He’s not at all kind when his fury passes the point of no return. Although the Resistance knew him as the leader, he’s heard the rumors that he’s been called the Dragon because of his fury.

Alois mocked, “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the nest again?”

Liam took a step back. If this were a woman doing what Alois was doing, Liam would counter it easy. But a man?! That’s out of his vocabulary. He didn’t want that to happen to him already. A man talking like Alois wasn’t something Liam liked. In fact, it scared the daylights out of Liam. He decided to get away from Alois before the boy can make a grown-up like Liam even more uncomfortable. He took to his room and sat on his bed, thinking about that man who double-crossed him and gave him the scar on his brow. He murmured to himself, “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll kill that traitor for trying to kill me the same way he killed my father.” He closed his eyes, his hands put together like in prayer.
Look down and show some mercy if you can.
Look down, look down, upon your fellow man.

~~~Les Miserables








I would be a terrible novel protagonist.
— mellifera