The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
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Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
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Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
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Post by The Reverend on May 4, 2021 0:28:35 GMT -5
One of the first wooden structures that was built in Pannoa, the Pavilion serves as a central meeting place for the residents to gather in and use to shade themselves from the sun. The structure is quite large and can accommodate a couple hundred people simultaneously, which it frequently does given it is where many choose to eat their meals. Much of it is filled with rather plain wooden tables and benches but there are a few other sections with chairs and benches surrounding fire pits for late night gatherings.
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
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Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
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Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on May 5, 2021 19:10:07 GMT -5
Vasco and his troupe traveled steadily without stopping. Despite their age, the children were stoic and tireless. Only at the very limits of their bodies would they give out, and perhaps even then with encouragement from mother, they would go a little more. This meant that they covered a large amount of ground in very little time, never pausing until the young vampire suddenly halted and turned his head to the east. Huey nearly collided with his leg and regarded him with a slight scowl. "Why have we stopped?" he asked, tone dour.
The blonde's eyes narrowed and his chest heaved as he took a deep breath. A low growl, a noise Huey could hear coming from Vasco's stomach, pierced the silence.
"Ah, I see," the thrall child nodded, heading off to the east. "Let us follow it then. I am sure that is where Mother has made her feast. Come on, Sir Vasco. Time to get you fed as well."
Regarding Huey with his own sneer, the vampire followed, eyes fixated on the path ahead.
Eventually, the sounds of hustle and bustle flooded their ears. They took but a moment to trade glances before pushing on and out through the trees. The group was greeted by rows and rows of white tents stretched out before them. A Pavillion, one that was put up recently going by the smell, stood between them and the people of this... pilgrimage?
They walked out, making themselves known. The smell of blood was overwhelming here, mudding the vampire's mind enough to make him throw caution out the door.
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on May 10, 2021 20:49:55 GMT -5
The loose collection of children, trooping behind the impossible skinny man at the front. Most Pannoans move to the side and regard the little soldiers with a mixture of amusement and perplexity. Did these children walk through the wildlands with only this man to guide and protect them? Where were their parents? A few try to converse with the tall man, to no avail.
Word spreads around the camp as the troops install themselves at the pavilion. The gentle sloping hill puts the coitere at center stage in clear view of all. The whispers from lip to lip turns to concern as no one manages to stop the newcomers from their steady march to the heart of the camp. “Zasha. Find Zasha,” becomes the refrain.
Zasha opens her eyes from what had been a pleasant, if all too brief, nap. Her morning had been spent helping to clear a section of forest with the help of a few of the more sturdy Pannoans. The few shipbuilders who had survived The Deluge turned their craft landwards, promising to get more permanent dwellings up within the month. With Zasha’s help, they fell tree after tree, carting the logs back to the budding supply depot.
Zasha stretched, relishing the physical labour as an outlet for the strength inside her. It feels good to work up a sweat and put her true talents to work. But now, her official duties call.
One of the guards, Tosh, nods his head in greeting.
“Zasha, we’ve got more company. Buncha of kids and a tall gent with incredibly tight pants. No idea where they came from. Wouldn’t stop to talk to anyone. They’ve stopped at the pavilion and are just there.”
With one motion, Zasha leaps from her cot and stands to her full height. A brief splash of cold water from the wooden basin on her bedside table brings her back to the present. She opts to pull her jumpsuit up and slide her arms back into the sleeves. Best to not stroll up guns blazing.
“There are kiddos, you say? What ages?”
Bosh ponders this for a space, counting off on his fingers as he assembles the various reports into one narrative.
“A score of them all together, probably ten to twelve years? Could be a few that are a bit older. None of them seem to be armed.”
Zasha nods, opting to leave her crossbow behind this time. Just kids, right? Odd they’d walk in like that, which suggests confidence in either themselves, or their leader.
“You say they are following a man in tight pants? Like a Solon man?” With a blush, Bosh shrugs. “I really wouldn’t know what one of them looks like, Miss. He’s tall, skinny, got these piercing eyes.”
There is potential danger here. A man leading children into a strange camp is odd enough. Not stopping to talk or state his business is even more odd. Even a stranger in a new city feels compelled to speak to someone eventually, unless they are on mission. The lack of weaponry, especially after marching for who knows how long through the wilderness, suggests arcane abilities of some sort. Or maybe dumb luck?
Zasha ducks to step out of her tent, motioning for Bosh to return to his post. Around her, lanterns of various colours and sized flare to life against the falling night. Off she strides towards the pavilion, rolling her shoulders to work the stiffness out of them. The dull grey sky threaten an evening storm. A few Pannoans wave as Zasha passes, making it clear that they are glad she is going to talk with the strangers.
At the foot of the small hill, Zasha pauses to wave at the man and call out to him.
“Hello there, friend! Welcome to our humble camp, I hope the road has been kind to you.”
After a brief pause to get his attention, Zasha walks right up to the man, moving every inch of her height to his immediate right. A quick glance takes him in. Her feet stand one behind the other, balancing on their core to keep herself limber.
“You haven’t been properly welcomed yet, I see! My name is Zasha. What you see here are the finest citizens of Lower Pannonia, now collected by the grace of God in our new homeland. Who might you be?”
Zasha keeps her gaze level and a smile on her face. Her positioning hoped to unsteady the man slightly, and her sudden greeting to jostle him into a reaction, just to test his mettle.
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on May 10, 2021 21:31:40 GMT -5
The young man's eyes were round and dark, eclipsing the gems of his pupils. His gaze was trained forward, stance sturdy, like a dog who'd spotted a rabbit. He didn't even move when Zasha approached them, leaving all the speaking to little Huey.
"You have my greatest apologies, ma'am. The young sir has trained his attention elsewhere. One moment, please," said the child, walking up to the tall vampire. He took the man's hand in his own and, with two tiny fingers, pinched him. The blonde's eyes reverted to predatory slits swimming in green. He gritted his teeth and whipped his hand out of the child's grasp, then flicked him in the forehead, causing the child to stumble backward with a grunt.
"Ow, you brat! What do you want?" the young man growled. His eyebrows flew up as he looked around, taking in their surroundings. He bit both his lips and turned, facing the willowy but robust woman before him. His lips parted to speak, but the child put up a hand to stop him.
"The young master is Vasco Correa and I am Huey. I speak for House Correa when Mother is not present," he informed Zasha. With a flourish, he bowed, and all the other children followed suit. "It is not our intention to intrude. Our home has flooded and we have spent several months on our ship with little to eat. When we found land, Mother was kidnapped by a terrible creature and hauled into the woods. She has the means to survive such a terrible kidnapping but we do not know where she is. Mother gets rather anxious when she is alone. Have you seen her? She looks like the young master here, but broad-shouldered and handsome."
Vasco's eyebrows shot up, equally as impressed as he was annoyed. Why did Huey think he could take over!? He stuttered a bit before pushing Huey back with a hand on his face. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am a grown man, after all. Vasco." A smirk slithered onto his face. "And... you are?"
"I understand his flirtatious attitude may be offputting, but do forgive him. It is an unfortunate malady of youth."
"Huey, shush."
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on May 13, 2021 22:26:11 GMT -5
So this odd kid was the true spokesperson, eh? His head gives the appearance of a lightly mashed pumpkin, but his words are clear enough. The dynamic between the man and the boy is almost risible, if not for the physical oddities displayed by the taller lad, Vasco, and the children. An unnatural paleness, which Zasha might expect in the most bookish of clerks or sequestered students, ran contrary to the idea of a band of wildland walkers. Then there were the oddly shaped teeth on Vasco. His top canines were markedly sharp, like twin fangs. Any sort of fight would be between these two speakers, with the other children jumping in like dogs on table scraps.
On top of all the rest was this house business. Were they a merchant collective? A guild, maybe? And is mother a title, or the creature that gave birth to this brood?
“As I said, my name is Zasha. Sometimes called Ale Smasher or Arms of Stone and Fire. My old man would love to call me Zasha the Tardy, but my legs are far longer than his nowadays. He can hardly keep up! I welcome you band of rovers, but I’m afraid the construction of a house is a touch beyond us at the moment,” Zasha stoops lower to cast an arm around Vasco’s shoulders and turns him to gesture towards the camp.
Careful to keep her tone light, Zasha splits her attentions between Vasco, addressing her words towards the young Huey and giving him subtle glances, but keeping her eyes on Vasco more often than not.
“In the meantime, I can see about finding you a few tents to pitch to ward off the rain and the dark. It sounds like you’ve had a day of it, what with a terrible creature stealing your mum.”
Then there was the insertion of a claim that this mother had a way to defend herself against a wild animal that hauled her away. If she had such abilities, why get snatched up in the first place?
“Huey, Vasco, we’d best get those tents set for the others, then you can tell me more about this situation you find yourself in, yes? I can’t say we’ve seen your mum around.”
Without missing a beat, Zasha gives a saucy wink towards Vasco. Internally, she rolled her eyes at such pitiable attempts at flirting. She’d seen much better at taverns in the Old County. There had been worse attempts too, on balance. Regardless, this man had a game Zasha was happy to play, for the time being.
“And if what you say is true, with Mr Vasco being a dusty reflection of her, I promise I’d remember a pretty face like that.”
Just a taste, to see if Vasco'd really play if prompted. And definitely not enough to distract from the task at hand.
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on May 14, 2021 21:12:48 GMT -5
Huey held up a hand as she mentioned a house. "No need. We have cannibalized our ship's sails so we could construct tents." He thought for a brief moment, his little hand tapping on his chin. "I do believe three small tents would be appreciated, however, for us to sleep comfortably. If it is not a strain for you to provide, we are also able to return the favor. Our troupe is diligent and tireless." The rest of the children nodded in agreement. "We will make camp closer to the treeline."
This woman, he now noticed, was several inches his giant (how could he not notice earlier? Because his mother was just as tall?). When she put her sinewy arm around his shoulders, his skin warmed. When she gave him a wink, so did his cheeks. He gave her his full attention as they walked, following her with nary a thought... or so it seemed. It was easy to believe the young man was rather empty-headed, especially around those who could sway his *other* mind: the one positioned below his hips. Huey knew how much of this was untrue. Moronic though he was, the man had a sharp wit. The little game these two were about to play made the thrall deeply curious.
Vasco indeed reciprocated, patting her hand gently. "Rivaled only by one's impressive array of titles. Arms of Stone and Fire. Do tell, what is the story behind that one?"
Huey's brow quirked.
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on May 17, 2021 14:46:24 GMT -5
The children all nodding along like that forces Zasha into a stoney face to avoid either laughing or turning her face away in minor revulsion. The almost perfect synchronicity with which they acted was inhuman. Mental calculations tipped the odds of a fight with these children more towards the ‘difficult scrap’ territory, if only for the psychological difficulty of beating such unnerving kiddos. The situation was all still on the cusp of being beyond bizarre, spilling over into downright dangerous.
With a brief squat, Zasha drops herself down to Huey’s level, still looming over him by a good few inches. At least now the lad wasn’t going to hyperextend his neck trying to look up at her.
“You will get those tents, Huey! We can also requisition some tea kettles, plates, and pots if you need them to cook with. All the finest luxuries of our humble camp are at your disposal, so long as you don’t mind sharing.”
Back up springs Zasha, whirling back to Yasco with a glint in her eyes. She raises one arm upwards in a curl, flexing slightly. Her baggy jumpsuit covers most of the visual display, but the displaced fabric still hints at the powerful arms underneath. With a flourish, she ignites the ends of her fingers with wisps of green flame before kissing each finger separately to extinguish the smolders. A little fun to keep the man interested and engaged. And enough to have him feeling the need to keep on, if that was his track of mind.
“That is a story for a different time, one when expediency isn’t our main goal and time is a luxury we have in abundance! If your mother has been captured by some beast, it would be best if we rescue her with as few delays as possible, eh? I can have some of my boys and girls set up the tents for the small ones here. If you rest now, we can head out at dawn to find this maternal figure of yours.”
The suggestion concerning dawn was carefully worded, as was the mention of food. Zasha’s sneaking suspicion about the true nature of these guests was one that all Pannoans knew in myths and legends. Vasco’s skin had been ice cold when Zasha let her hand brush over it. The pale skin, despite having ostensibly wandered about under the hot sun for an unspecified amount of time, added to the mystery. And the fangs! Unless Huey and Vasco were themselves odd in action as some sort of quirk, they had a preternatural cause for the eccentricities. The fashion sense of Vasco has to be a personal failing, however, Zasha holds no doubts there.
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on May 22, 2021 2:26:11 GMT -5
"Sharing is a concept we are all too used to, Lady Zasha. Before the flood, there were ninety of us in total," he informed her, holding up nine fingers toward her face. Adult in some manners, child in others. The woman was right to feel unnerved. When she wasn't engaging them, they just stood very still and very silent. There was no idle chatting, no worried glances, no fidgeting.
Just still. And silent.
On the other hand, Vasco gave a long whistle and applauded when Zasha gave her little fire show. His eyebrows flew up in a modicum of surprise. "Well, that answers half the question," he replied with a grin. "And anyone with a flair for dramatics has my full attention."
He paused when the woman mentioned searching during the day. His eyes narrowed briefly, scanning her suspiciously before he threw up his shoulders in a great sigh, smirk still in play. "I suppose there was no hiding it! You really didn't give me enough time to even try, I might add." Hands placed on his hips, the vampire inclined his head. "You don't seem like a hunter; my head would have already been lopped off. So, what now? Would you like a fight to the death or a long, drawn-out conversation about morality and sin before you realize that we're not here to cause trouble?"
The vampire was smiling, but his feet were slightly spread apart, his shoulders tense, ready to move if Zasha decided that the first option seemed more fitting.
"Over tea, preferably- or whatever that lovely smell was that lead me over here."
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on May 26, 2021 13:46:43 GMT -5
Morality? Sin? Zasha narrows her eyes slightly at Vasco, keeping eye contact as his stance shifts. This was an odd turn. Why is Vasco so sensitive about his nature as a blood drinker? Maybe such practices were persecuted where he came from originally. The mention of ‘hunters’ suggests something along those lines.
For now, time to get down to business. No more games of flirtation, for now. Zasha levels a finger at Casvo and points it squarely at his neck.
“If you want to talk about sin, you’d have to meet with my dad for that. Personally, I find danger and work to make it stop being dangerous either by force, or taking it to exhaustion. It’s been a long slog of mostly fighting things for us Pannoans. We’ve fought the seas, the land, wild beasts, hunger, and everything in between to try and carve out our precious little camp here. If I seem a bit hot under the collar, I’ll ask you to forgive me. Just a bit odd to have ‘children’ waltz into our camp after claiming to have reeled around in the wilderness like a game of bagatelle. As we’ve just determined by your own admission, you aren’t really just a group of random human travellers who lost their mother. You’ve got that hidden angle, like in the good bodice ripper novellas.”
Zasha shrugs. She lets out a puff of air to blow a stray strand of hair out of her face.
“If my assumption is correct, you are all blood drinkers. It’s odd that children would do this, or that you have so many of you who participate in such rituals. Usually only old mystics and the more non-typical folks consume blood. If you are worried I’m going to knock your block off for your religion, that’s not the case.”
With a smoldering thumb, Zasha smooths her eyebrows with a smirk. The lingering wisps of flame don’t burn her eyebrows away, but remain for a few seconds. The effect deepens Zasha’ comically grim expression.
“I’m as tolerant of whatever faith you do, or do not, have as I am open to offering help to honest strangers. And if you were a danger to Pannoa, I’d have killed you already, blood drinking or no. So let’s drop the fighting stance and get your crew set up for the night, eh? I’m going to call for a few of my associates to help get everything set up, if that’s all right with you.”
Zasha pulls out a small silver whistle from within the folds of her jumpsuit and holds it out for Huey to see first, before turning it to show Vasco.
“Simple affair. Our guards have signal whistles with different calls to help communicate across the camp more easily. I’ll sound a call for my dear friends, Tosh and Bosh, to come help get your crew established ”
She sighs conspiratorially with Huey, voice adapting a tone of mock seriousness.
“And if Mr Vasco must have someone to fight before we do anything productive, I suppose I could oblige him.”
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on May 28, 2021 19:50:29 GMT -5
For a moment, Vasco could only grin in pleasant surprise. His shoulders bobbled silently, fingers curled against his lips until a chortle escaped him. It was a high, jovial thing, unbefitting of the sharp-faced man standing before Zasha. He took in a breath and stifled the laughter, though the grin remained. "First the mist, then a camp that accepts bloodsuckers. It feels as though some God has decided to guide our path, leading us here. I just can't imagine this was some coincidence."
The vampire listened to her go on for a moment, then shook his head. "I know it's hard to believe, but the children are human," he informed her. "Magically infused and sturdy, but not blessed, like yours truly." He swept a hand under his chin in a fanciful gesture and a purposely exaggerated smile. Right after, his body relaxed, as though he'd been holding his breath. "All the same, it's splendid to hear of your religion and your tolerance of... my own." It was almost a question, but he skirted around it at the last moment. This life was no such following, as it wasn't something he'd chosen; it was something he was born into. Still, he let Zasha think what she would. No need to correct her. He did find her little show with the smoke and eyebrows amusing, if not thrilling in so many ways.
Huey eyed the whistle with the same expression he'd worn since they met. He nodded at her explanation and gave her a bow, his troupe following. "You have my appreciation for the hospitality. We shall do what we can to return the favor."
Briefly, the child's eyes flickered over to Vasco.
"How fast do you think you could beat him?" he asked, the edge of his lip twitching. Perhaps, to repress a smile.
"Huey," Vasco warned.
"Five minutes?"
"I'm not here to fight, Huey!"
And this time, the child did smile, but it was gone in an instant.
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on May 29, 2021 13:10:57 GMT -5
Blessed.
Zasha lets a smile creep past her lips as she regards the angular man. He was so pointy, with bones visible in places through his blanched skin and cheekbones that could slice paper. He had a swagger that reminded Zasha of so many rich young folks ‘slumming it’ near her own favourite haunts in the Old Country. Something in the way he acted worked to override the rougher edges Zasha perceives in him. What was he under all that posturing? Or was he so used to worming his way into the minds of others that his ‘self’ was like putty?
Regardless, Zasha shakes her head at Huey’s suggested time frame for a fight. Her shoulders rise and fall in quiet chuckling.
“Five minutes? In my experience, men like Mr Vasco can’t last more than one when pressed. They pad the fight time with jukes and japes to get you riled up, then go down at the first stiff breeze. Not that we are counting,” she adds with a rough courtesy to Vasco, “Since this is all hypothetical like, eh?”
“Now. Business.”
The whistle sounds with three trilled tones. A reply in the reverse prompts Zasha to nod and return the whistle to its home pocket. Two bobbing lights detect themselves from the myriad of motes in the camp below and approach the hill.
“What ho, Tosh and Bosh! Our visitors are in need of a place to bed down for the night. The laws of hospitality demand we oblige them with three tents and a little field kitchen.”
The men look between Zasha, Vasco, Huey, and the troupe of children. A brief discussion entailing the location of the miniature campsite proceeds the two halberdiers giving a rough salute to Zasha before tramping off to pitch tents.
“Huey. Vasco. If you would join me for a cuppa before we turn in, we can talk out the logistics of our rescue sting tomorrow, yes? Although she isn’t much for the ordered smells and bells of Adorism, Zasha mentally forms a short prayer. The Reverend alway had the best prayers, ones that made you feel like the Lord of Light was speaking through him. For the longest time, Zasha struggled to emulate these intercessions spoken in the ancient vernacular. She found her own way in time, letting her heart speak for itself.
Guidance, she breathes, feeling heat bloom out from in her chest, peace and purpose. Gentleness when needed, and ferocity when the first falters. Purpose and peace.
“Let’s get a move on, though! Tea doesn’t brew itself. Honestly the worst part about it, if you ask me.”
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on Jun 3, 2021 15:28:24 GMT -5
Vasco's smile was tight and his eyes narrowed, wondering perhaps if the two were making a jab at more than his combat prowess. He was just opening his mouth to cut in when Zasha made that last comment about hypotheticals. He mouthed a quick "Of course," with a little nod.
Once the two men came by at the sound of the whistle, Huey and the rest of the children made to follow them to start setting up. It wasn't until this hunky lass asked him to accompany Vasco and herself did he pause, put a little hand to his chin to think, then nodded. "Very well. Tea does sound lovely. If you would like, I can brew while you and Sir Vasco speak of important matters."
This made the vampire roll his eyes, but instead of leading with something witty, he decided to turn his head in the direction of the smell that had transfixed him so. For a brief moment, his eyes began to glaze over again, but a pull of his shirt from the small child butler pulled him out of it.
"Let us go, Sir. No time to waste."
The vampire looked up, smirking. "Oh of course. Let's."
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on Jun 3, 2021 16:48:30 GMT -5
Nighttime in the Pannoan camp has most families buttoned up snuggly in their tents. A few loose collections of people sit around low burning campfires, swapping tales of the day in hushed tones or enjoying the presence of one another in silence. Zasha waves to a few faces that light up when she passes through with Huey and Vasco. A few brief stops see Zasha embrace several of her fellow survivors, shaking hands with the elderly and engaging in rough bear hugs with those more her size. It is apparent that her height is not a complete outlier. A right mountain of a man sitting with a collection of rough looking folks smoking pipes stands up as Zasha passes, placing himself directly in front of her path. A mop of salt and pepper hair curls downwards over the deep wrinkles gracing the man's forehead. His build suggests someone with a long history of intense physical labour and a hearty diet. The two are almost equal in height, almost. The lean Zasha could stand by herself three times over and barely equal the width of this behemoth.
Zasha points a thumb over her shoulder at the man as she turns to Huey and Vasco, her grin spreading from ear to ear. “Just a moment, lads. I think Mr Harvey here is here to reclaim his honour from an old figh-.” Down Zasha drops, lunging backwards as Mr Harvey sends a haymaker rocketing through where her stomach had been moments prior. Zasha remains low and sends a kick to the man’s forward leg. As he begins to stumble downwards, Zasha cycles around behind the man, hooking her leg around the faltering back foot and shoving the assailant in the square of his back. This maneuver sends the man cartwheeling forward past Huey and Vasco before he falls to the ground. All in all, roughly three and a half seconds elapsed after the first punch. Zasha immediately throws herself after Mr Harvey, her face painted with exertion and exhilaration. She jumps low, snaking an arm around Mr Harvey’s muscular neck and forcing his right arm up into the air at an awkward angle. “Well, Mr Harvey. You tried the exact same thing you did last time! I cannot begin to guess what you thought would happen.” With a pant, Mr Harvey replies in a low chuckle. “I thought you’d not expect that one, Miss. The old Crate Smasher was always a big hit at the docks, if’n you’ll pardon the phrasing.” “Yes, Mr Harvey, I’m sure a drunk longshoreman would be surprised by how fast you can move. Not everyone you fight will be so inebriated, though! You must learn to use this bulk of yours in more ways than just like a battering ram.” The two disentangle themselves, with Zasha lending a hand to help the former warehouse boss to his feet. A sheepish grin precedes Zasha's return to Huey and Vasco. “Sorry for the detour. I am trying to build up more martial prowess among my friends! There used to be boxing rings and wrestling gymnasiums aplenty back in the Old Country. Not so now.” Zasha dusts her forearms off and raises both arms above her in a languid stretch before shrugging. “Does the body good to tussle now and again. And with whatever faces us tomorrow, I don’t mind that last minute practice. Thank you, Mr Harvey! For next time, work on a second trick, yes?” The man nods as he returns to good natured jokes from his campmates. Zasha marches on forward through the camp, chatting amiably to Huey and Vasco about the different varieties of teas she has on offer. Several moments later, they arrive at a tent much like the others, both flaps tired back displaying a simple cot and bedroll, a wooden trunk, a burnished copper mirror resting lazily against one of the support beams, and a few assorted odds and ends spread out on a low table. Underfoot rests a thick woolen carpet of sorts on a wooden pallet keeping the contents of the tent itself from touching the ground. Zasha takes the small step up and begins opening up a small metal box, showing various sachets of loose tea leaves. “I have a nice caravan tea, which is my personal favourite. Nice and smoky with a malted finish. Almost tastes like smoking a cigar. I’ve got your herbals and your greens too, if either of you want something more delicate as a nightcap. Ask and it shall be given!”
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Vasco Correa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Appearance: Thin and lithe, Vasco is his mother's antithesis, taking only her broad shoulders as his own. His narrow, diamond-shaped face and long features can be seen as striking, if not handsome, by many.
He has a head of immaculately trimmed, dirty blonde hair and it is clear he takes great care of it, trimming and oiling and all the works.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Vasco's preferred weapon of choice is a special rapier that houses a thin, hollow chamber typically filled with a neurotoxin found back in their homeland. The chamber can also be filled with other substances.
________________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Vasco's vampiric curse can allow him to change her form into several distinct shapes: a shaggy black dog, a blackbird, and an eel.
His senses and natural strength are heightened considerably at night and gutter just as significantly during the day. He has excellent night vision that causes him to be blinded completely in the presence of the sun. Despite this, he does not burn in direct sunlight.
The Correa family's shared ability is that which to create loyal thralls without having to sire them into vampires. Thralls are created with a bite and a magical sigil. Sired vampires are created with a bite from the vampire, and then the ingestion of the vampire's blood. Thralls share a portion of the vampire's strength and can still walk freely in the sun, though with a newfound disdain for it. They are not vampires themselves but have a substantial, artificial fondness for them.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 17:17:59 GMT -5
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Post by Vasco Correa on Jun 7, 2021 21:32:36 GMT -5
Huey and Vasco watched this show of athleticism and combat prowess with the likeness of two gentlemen exchanging impressed nods as they watched a show pony. In this case, the show pony was a bull, and instead of jumping over a fence, it was battling a bison.
"Impressive!" exclaimed Vasco.
"Beyond adequate, I do say," Huey agreed.
"That is a fierce way to begin a future in the new world, with a camp filled with apt fighters. It gives one a leg up, should anyone with malicious intention decide to come by. Give them a run for their gold, make sure they don't come back! If they're able to get away in the first place, that is." Vasco was rife with fascination now. Something about her enthusiasm ignited a little flame in him.
As the two followed, they continued to look around the camp and take in the sights. The whole time, Vasco followed his nose, trying to scope out that smell. He only did it when he was behind Zasha, and not behind her or at her side. He couldn't have her know that he was following his innermost desires, after all.
When they arrived at a modest but slightly crowded tent, Vasco took a seat at the table while Huey took a look at the teas. "I will take the caravan tea. The young master will need much sweetener with his, if available. If not, he can go without. One must develop a palette for these things sometime, and now is as good as ever."
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Zasha Tolstov
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Zasha is a lithe and lanky woman, standing a good 6' 5" tall. She is almost purely muscle, with an aggressive stance to match. Her bleached hair remains in a ponytail with long bangs and an severe undercut. Tattoos of various rules and symbols seem etched into her arms and shoulders. Each one radiates a green energy that grows in intensity to match her temper.
She wears a jumpsuit with the top pulled down and tied around her waist, with the legs tucked into calf high stockings. A pair of reinforced gloves and goggles never leave her side.
Equipment: · Reinforced gloves with built in brass knuckles
· Goggles with sea glass green lenses
· Blessed bandana usually tied around her right arm
. Earnings made from the teeth of a wild beast
· Steel skinning knife
· Heavy crossbow
Skills and Abilities: Zasha is a master of boxing and martial arts. Her particular school focused on overwhelming offensive manoeuvres and an almost dance-like agility. Her dexterity and poise are honed to a fine art.
A lifetime of service to The Reverend gives Zasha token book knowledge of a few academic subjects. Her particular passion concerns history and labour rights movements.
In addition, Zasha believes herself to be possessed by a spirit that enhances her aggressive actions and attitudes.
Biography: "My name is Zasha Tolstov", at least that is what a handwritten card left in the basket with her claimed. As a baby, Tolstov arrived in a wicker basket on the front step of The Reverend's home. He took the baby in and raised her as his protege and helper, watching in awe as she grew tall quickly. Her physical prowess was evident from a young age after she protected The Reverend from a band of would be thevies.
Since her youth, she has been a constant companion to The Reverend, helping him serve the sizeable flock which attended his cathedral. No spare moment would see waste as Zasha worked and trained wherever she could.
Now, following the total destruction of her old homeland, Zasha finds herself possessed by some spirit, invisible to all but her and The Reverend.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 15:52:20 GMT -5
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Post by Zasha Tolstov on Jun 10, 2021 16:44:08 GMT -5
“Right. Sugar. I’m afraid we haven’t had but a few pinches altogether after The Deluge. There are a fair number of beehives in the flower fields nearby that produce some marvelously sweet honey. Another mercy of the land.”
Zasha takes a small cast iron teapot in one hand and grips tightly. Tongues of her green fire lick outwards around the base of the teapot, setting the water inside to boil after a few moments. During this, Zasha uses her free hand to set out three mugs of varying sizes and shapes. The first is a delicate porcelain affair with a winding pattern of birds and vines. Into this vessel, Zasha places a small sachet of gnarled black-brown leaves. A tall earthenware mug, glazed with deep lapis tones and flecks of grey, receives the next sachet, this time one with bright flowers and springs of bright green leaves. Zasha takes a moment to set the now whistling kettle down on a small folded piece of burlap, keeping the piping hot metal off the finish of her short table. What could charitably be described as a deep bowl shaped mug comes out next, with two sachets of the gnarled black leaves resting in the bottom of its voluminous curves.
A dollop of honey joins the colourful sachet in its vessel. Zasha slowly pours hot water over top before sliding the cup over to Vasco.
“This is a mint tea with lemon verbena and just a bit of fresh picked lemon grass. The honey here has a strangely heady aroma from whatever the local flowers are. Some of the old gardeners are ecstatic at the prospects of entirely new flowers crossbred with their surviving seeds from the Old Country. Imagine, saving seeds.”
A single bitter laugh, dry and mirthless, follows that remark while Zasha returns to making tea. The delicate porcelain cup goes to Huey, and the large bowl remains before Zasha. With a nod, she indicates the pot of honey and small wooden stir stick resting atop.
“Please take more honey, if it suits you.”
Sitting with crossed legs, the tall woman looms over the table. With careful fingers, she readjusts her mangle of off white hair back into some semblance of order, governed tenuously by a cord of umber fabric. Hey eyes focus on Vasco, then Huey, then back again. Truth be told, Zasha had missed the thrill of meeting new faces more than she realized. The teeming crowds of people on market days, the hustle and bustle in the rowdier portside taverns, the comings and goings of travelers entering the city for the first time, all of that was lost.
Her nights had been restless as of late, wondering after the fate of her old home. And now, a distraction! New people, as odd as any new face ever is, with their own peculiarities and quirks. Vasco’s face is unlike any other, and yet similar to all she has seen. Huey’s voice, with the air of a child and the weight of an old man, is not unfamiliar, but still perfectly unique. The distinct bits and pieces that make up each person, rearranged countless times over to create every living person who drew, draws, and will draw breath remains Zasha’s second favourite type of art. The first is, of course, fighting. And fighting brings it all back to business.
“Now. Planning time, yes? Tell me all you know about the disappearance of your mother, the creature involved, and how I can best be of service, eh?”
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