Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Apr 18, 2021 0:58:43 GMT -5
Theodosia couldn't help but smirk at Nina's apparent shock, wondering how long it had been since the woman had had any real human contact. Part of her wanted to brag that she had that sort of effect on people, but that would have been false. It wouldn't do to go lying to her new friend, especially in a relationship built so much on trust. Biting her tongue, she wondered when the compulsion to pretend that she was someone else had become so ingrained in her mind. This had all started out as just a simple job...
"Won't people find you if you live out here?" she asked, glancing up at the tall stone cylinder. "People come out to these pools pretty often to find things to eat, you know. I thought you said you wanted to stay away from people. Uh...there's springs and streams in the forests, I can show you where to find a few of those. They're all pretty close to the forest's edge, I never go too far into the woods. It's dangerous, I hear. As for vegetables...most of the ones we have are dried, and there's not many of them left at that. It's just what few stores we had left on the ship, since nobody's had the time to try and grow anything yet over here. I can try to bring you some if you like, though. Tools are hard to come by, and people would ask questions if I asked to borrow any, but I can certainly provide you with the small things. Needles, threads, whetstones, waterskins. I can get you all of those. For any real tools, though, you'd have to ask the building crews."
As Nina went on to detail the information she needed, Theodosia chuckled. This, she could help with. She made a point to keep up with the gossip and chatter of the people around her wherever she went, as it helped her provide her customers with their fortunes.
"I can help you with the people," she said. "I know all about people. It's kind of hard not to in a place this small, especially in my line of work. As for food...goodness, I hope that urchin wasn't poisonous. I try not to eat anything that doesn't look like food, and I always make sure I'm not the first person to eat something. And hey, I'm good at what I do! I've done this for years, you know. I just...can't afford for things to go downhill this time, you know?"
She paused, chewing on her lip as she considered Nina's musings on the nature of human ideals. Seeing them all as scams was certainly a gloomy way of looking at things, but Theodosia couldn't think of a way to refute the woman's argument. There was definitely a grain of truth to the things she said, as pessimistic as they were.
"A trade," she murmured. "I can't say I have. Fortune-telling is all I know, and it'd be awfully hard to start fresh. You might be right, though, perhaps it's time to try something new...but not right now. As for the first thing I need help with..."
Despite the fact that the two of them were alone on the beach, Theodosia glanced hurriedly over her shoulder before leaning in close to whisper softly into Nina's ear. Her voice shook again, more out of worry than stress. She'd been mulling this over in her head for several days now, and had grown quite concerned.
"Well," she whispered, "they send out regular hunting parties into the woods to try and bring back wild game. Every now and again, some of them don't come back. A man named Tressor returned from one of those parties, the only survivor after they were attacked by wild beasts and scattered. He came to me, raving about how he saw an angel and how he thinks that this island is blessed by them. I didn't know what to tell him, so I told him to trust his eyes and things would turn out alright. Well...he's been acting strangely. He's gathered this whole group together, some of them seem to think that they've seen angels too. It's gotten to be this little...religion? Cult? I don't know, but I'm afraid that it's all because of what I told him. Um...could you maybe keep an eye on Tressor and make sure things don't get out of hand? Maybe convince him to...I don't know, disband his little group? They're always meeting and talking about how they'll go find the angels and it's a little scary."
She shuddered, remembering the session she'd had with the man. He'd seemed sane enough at the time, but his ravings had been getting worse over the past few days. He'd gathered up a number of followers, some of whom claimed to have seen angels themselves. Theodosia didn't know what to make of it, but she definitely didn't like it. Groups like that worried her.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 289
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Apr 19, 2021 13:49:07 GMT -5
“I can’t just leave him here.” Nina murmured, stealing a glimpse behind her.
‘Someone might get the brilliant idea to smash a window to get in.’ As her new acquaintance spoke, the traveler adjusted her expectations until she had a better grasp of the settlement and her place alongside it. She offered her thanks. There’d be no need for extra food, she rephrased, if it was that scarce, but she’d still appreciate any leftover seeds. At most, it seemed, she might have a day’s grace period, she calculated, if no one visited during the current low tide, and if the one after fell during night. Enough to get herself seen in the settlement, acknowledged, to be ‘that person’ first and ‘wizard tower inhabitant’ second, just maybe. Perhaps she should get a placard for the house, in whatever script they used here, to clarify that. ‘Home’ would do. Or ‘Not A Wizard Tower’. Nina rubbed her brow. So much work, on her first day ashore. And she was so, so tired…And her first quest, too…
“I’ll see what I can do, but…” Just when she thought she had a grasp on the other’s motivations, the fortune-teller kept surprising her. What she asked for felt surprisingly selfless. “Theodosia, this is not your fault. You could have told him anything, and it might’ve not made a difference. Some ideas have a life of their own.” A silent chill passed her spine as she remembered her plans to go trapping. “Honestly, I don’t think religion is the worst reaction when you’re stuck between hunger and the risk of being torn apart by wild animals,” she said, and imagined herself running through that green hell, catching a glimpse of light- “but…I’ll keep an eye on them. I agree it’s unsettling.”
With established religions, you generally knew what to expect. Even the crazy ones at least had a baseline level of crazy. New beliefs were the minds of gods and mortals throwing dice.
“I’ll just rest a bit,” Nina spoke, her voice suddenly exhausted, as she looked for a dry place in the sun. “I…I’d like to go with you afterwards. Find…water.” Just thinking of it made her lips burn with salt. There was something almost cat-like in her demeanor as she curled in her chosen spot. Her gaze flickered up. “And…Theodosia…?”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
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Angela Dickernson
Established
Let us make a nice cup of tea.
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 24
Appearance: She's wearing an elegant dark green dress, that is quite flowing in design, with large poofed out sleeves, it reaches all the way to her ankles, but it has straps that allow her tie it up to her knees or higher. Under that she wears pants full of deeply stitched on pockets with a plethora of supplies tied inside said heavily clasped pockets. Her boots had metal clasps on the toes allowing for protection, they were a mix of old armor and leather fashioned together. Her hat is long and wide allowing for a good amount of sun blockage.
Her face is completely covered in a light tan fur, although it shares completely human characteristics. The light fur coating covers her entire body, although on her back lie a plethora of hardened spikes, like that of a porcupine, each spike carefully coming out of holes specifically crafted in her clothing.
Equipment: She carries about a fairly large umbrella with a handle and frame crafted of careful bone. Inside was a carefully crafted launching mechanism...designed to send a sharp bone spike straight out at a wicked speed.
One such knife she carries is a gilded balisong blade, with gold lining the handle.
Chained to her wrist when she arrived on the island is a case, containing essentials for survival, including a china set, iron kettle, and supplies to set up fire.
Skills and Abilities: She can draw from her body, bone and fur limited only by her strength allowing her to grow out whatever she wishes out of solid bone.
Biography: One of the royals of a Naitiria lands. She too made it on the boats of her own countries desperate moves to survive. However, in the move she'd been separated, and had now ended up here in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Jun 14, 2021 23:50:00 GMT -5
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Post by Angela Dickernson on Jun 16, 2021 20:45:33 GMT -5
The rocky shore was fairly clear, exception of a case and a lass who sat on the shore. She was wearing dark green, and there was no sign of how she had arrived. She was wearing what appeared to be a combination of a commoner's boot and full on knight's armor for her shoes. She had both legs crossed and was sitting on the case.
The lass was just waiting. She held her odd hat to cover the sun and looked from side to side as if waiting for someone. She seemed very calm whistling some old sea shanty from her home as she sat clear on her case.
Her back was a plethora of spikes that stood right out with a brownish tan color. Her face and skin respectfully was quite furry, and more of the tan. Her eyes were a deep blackish color and the smile that was painted on the face could only be described as regal.
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Aymer Morwen
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Appearance: Aymer is rather short and skinny for an elf, with reddish-brown hair going down to his shoulders. His eyes are a piercing ice blue. His hands are thin and small, without much meat on them.
Equipment: Aymer carries very little with him. He often carries a plain knife, and a more decorated claymore in a sheath on his back.
Skills and Abilities: Aymer is moderately skilled with a blade, having a few years of experience. However, he is by no means a master, and still has much to learn.
He is particularly skilled in remaining unseen. While there is no magic involved, merely strategy and trickery, others often assume that he is able to use magic due to his uncanny ability to remain unnoticed.
Biography: Aymer is incredibly nervous and fidgety, as well as easily startled. His hands are often shaky due to his anxiety, and he has many doubts about himself that can lead to him not being able to perform simple tasks at an acceptable standard. However, he is very easily befriended, and doesn't mind the company of others. Often times, an offer of food will persuade him to warm up to you.
As a child, Aymer was often left at home to his own devices as his parents left to make deals with rather unsavory folks. As such, he resents his parents and can be rather cold towards those who try and persuade him to do something that he deems against his moral standards.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 9:47:05 GMT -5
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Post by Aymer Morwen on Jun 17, 2021 16:31:44 GMT -5
The rocky shore was fairly clear, exception of a case and a lass who sat on the shore. She was wearing dark green, and there was no sign of how she had arrived. She was wearing what appeared to be a combination of a commoner's boot and full on knight's armor for her shoes. She had both legs crossed and was sitting on the case. The lass was just waiting. She held her odd hat to cover the sun and looked from side to side as if waiting for someone. She seemed very calm whistling some old sea shanty from her home as she sat clear on her case. Her back was a plethora of spikes that stood right out with a brownish tan color. Her face and skin respectfully was quite furry, and more of the tan. Her eyes were a deep blackish color and the smile that was painted on the face could only be described as regal. Aymer had been wandering around for some time now, finding food and shelter where he could. He couldn't bear with the idea of meeting new people, and thus preferred his own company as opposed to the company of those who had washed up or stowed away on various ships. He walked through the rocky shore, avoiding the sharp, dangerous rocks and peering into any tide pools that he passed by. Stopping short, he glanced up. He had managed to walk near the one person who was anywhere close to him. Just great. He began to back up, his anxiety taking over and forcing him away, but he tripped and fell into the sand with a loud "Umph!"
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Angela Dickernson
Established
Let us make a nice cup of tea.
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 24
Appearance: She's wearing an elegant dark green dress, that is quite flowing in design, with large poofed out sleeves, it reaches all the way to her ankles, but it has straps that allow her tie it up to her knees or higher. Under that she wears pants full of deeply stitched on pockets with a plethora of supplies tied inside said heavily clasped pockets. Her boots had metal clasps on the toes allowing for protection, they were a mix of old armor and leather fashioned together. Her hat is long and wide allowing for a good amount of sun blockage.
Her face is completely covered in a light tan fur, although it shares completely human characteristics. The light fur coating covers her entire body, although on her back lie a plethora of hardened spikes, like that of a porcupine, each spike carefully coming out of holes specifically crafted in her clothing.
Equipment: She carries about a fairly large umbrella with a handle and frame crafted of careful bone. Inside was a carefully crafted launching mechanism...designed to send a sharp bone spike straight out at a wicked speed.
One such knife she carries is a gilded balisong blade, with gold lining the handle.
Chained to her wrist when she arrived on the island is a case, containing essentials for survival, including a china set, iron kettle, and supplies to set up fire.
Skills and Abilities: She can draw from her body, bone and fur limited only by her strength allowing her to grow out whatever she wishes out of solid bone.
Biography: One of the royals of a Naitiria lands. She too made it on the boats of her own countries desperate moves to survive. However, in the move she'd been separated, and had now ended up here in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Jun 14, 2021 23:50:00 GMT -5
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Post by Angela Dickernson on Jun 18, 2021 20:01:39 GMT -5
The rocky shore was fairly clear, exception of a case and a lass who sat on the shore. She was wearing dark green, and there was no sign of how she had arrived. She was wearing what appeared to be a combination of a commoner's boot and full on knight's armor for her shoes. She had both legs crossed and was sitting on the case. The lass was just waiting. She held her odd hat to cover the sun and looked from side to side as if waiting for someone. She seemed very calm whistling some old sea shanty from her home as she sat clear on her case. Her back was a plethora of spikes that stood right out with a brownish tan color. Her face and skin respectfully was quite furry, and more of the tan. Her eyes were a deep blackish color and the smile that was painted on the face could only be described as regal. Aymer had been wandering around for some time now, finding food and shelter where he could. He couldn't bear with the idea of meeting new people, and thus preferred his own company as opposed to the company of those who had washed up or stowed away on various ships. He walked through the rocky shore, avoiding the sharp, dangerous rocks and peering into any tide pools that he passed by. Stopping short, he glanced up. He had managed to walk near the one person who was anywhere close to him. Just great. He began to back up, his anxiety taking over and forcing him away, but he tripped and fell into the sand with a loud "Umph!" She gave a small smile, "Well, well, well, yau'll do quit' naissly! Up yau go," she said cheerily as she lept to her feet and took a handful of strides over to him and glanced down, "I neid someon' naiss and and handy to help me with this bag, do com', we can't' wast' anytim' ther''s business to be don'!" The lass stared down, her black eyes glimmering with hidden secrets, "Yau're not' busy are yau? I do hop' not', becaus' I think yau shall be assisting me from now on. Com', com', we haven't' all day!" Angela exclaimed as she opened up her umbrella clutching it in one hand and giving it a light twirl in her hands, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson, yau may call me Miss Angela."
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Aymer Morwen
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Appearance: Aymer is rather short and skinny for an elf, with reddish-brown hair going down to his shoulders. His eyes are a piercing ice blue. His hands are thin and small, without much meat on them.
Equipment: Aymer carries very little with him. He often carries a plain knife, and a more decorated claymore in a sheath on his back.
Skills and Abilities: Aymer is moderately skilled with a blade, having a few years of experience. However, he is by no means a master, and still has much to learn.
He is particularly skilled in remaining unseen. While there is no magic involved, merely strategy and trickery, others often assume that he is able to use magic due to his uncanny ability to remain unnoticed.
Biography: Aymer is incredibly nervous and fidgety, as well as easily startled. His hands are often shaky due to his anxiety, and he has many doubts about himself that can lead to him not being able to perform simple tasks at an acceptable standard. However, he is very easily befriended, and doesn't mind the company of others. Often times, an offer of food will persuade him to warm up to you.
As a child, Aymer was often left at home to his own devices as his parents left to make deals with rather unsavory folks. As such, he resents his parents and can be rather cold towards those who try and persuade him to do something that he deems against his moral standards.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 9:47:05 GMT -5
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Post by Aymer Morwen on Jun 19, 2021 13:08:30 GMT -5
Aymer had been wandering around for some time now, finding food and shelter where he could. He couldn't bear with the idea of meeting new people, and thus preferred his own company as opposed to the company of those who had washed up or stowed away on various ships. He walked through the rocky shore, avoiding the sharp, dangerous rocks and peering into any tide pools that he passed by. Stopping short, he glanced up. He had managed to walk near the one person who was anywhere close to him. Just great. He began to back up, his anxiety taking over and forcing him away, but he tripped and fell into the sand with a loud "Umph!" She gave a small smile, "Well, well, well, yau'll do quit' naissly! Up yau go," she said cheerily as she lept to her feet and took a handful of strides over to him and glanced down, "I neid someon' naiss and and handy to help me with this bag, do com', we can't' wast' anytim' ther''s business to be don'!" The lass stared down, her black eyes glimmering with hidden secrets, "Yau're not' busy are yau? I do hop' not', becaus' I think yau shall be assisting me from now on. Com', com', we haven't' all day!" Angela exclaimed as she opened up her umbrella clutching it in one hand and giving it a light twirl in her hands, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson, yau may call me Miss Angela." "W-what?" sputtered Aymer, as he scrambled backwards. "C-come with you? Where?" He looked around to see if there was anywhere to run to, away from this person. "I uh- N-no I'm not b-busy, but-" He slipped in the sand again, as he tried to stand up. "W-who are you?"
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Angela Dickernson
Established
Let us make a nice cup of tea.
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 24
Appearance: She's wearing an elegant dark green dress, that is quite flowing in design, with large poofed out sleeves, it reaches all the way to her ankles, but it has straps that allow her tie it up to her knees or higher. Under that she wears pants full of deeply stitched on pockets with a plethora of supplies tied inside said heavily clasped pockets. Her boots had metal clasps on the toes allowing for protection, they were a mix of old armor and leather fashioned together. Her hat is long and wide allowing for a good amount of sun blockage.
Her face is completely covered in a light tan fur, although it shares completely human characteristics. The light fur coating covers her entire body, although on her back lie a plethora of hardened spikes, like that of a porcupine, each spike carefully coming out of holes specifically crafted in her clothing.
Equipment: She carries about a fairly large umbrella with a handle and frame crafted of careful bone. Inside was a carefully crafted launching mechanism...designed to send a sharp bone spike straight out at a wicked speed.
One such knife she carries is a gilded balisong blade, with gold lining the handle.
Chained to her wrist when she arrived on the island is a case, containing essentials for survival, including a china set, iron kettle, and supplies to set up fire.
Skills and Abilities: She can draw from her body, bone and fur limited only by her strength allowing her to grow out whatever she wishes out of solid bone.
Biography: One of the royals of a Naitiria lands. She too made it on the boats of her own countries desperate moves to survive. However, in the move she'd been separated, and had now ended up here in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Jun 14, 2021 23:50:00 GMT -5
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Post by Angela Dickernson on Jun 19, 2021 13:55:31 GMT -5
She gave a small smile, "Well, well, well, yau'll do quit' naissly! Up yau go," she said cheerily as she lept to her feet and took a handful of strides over to him and glanced down, "I neid someon' naiss and and handy to help me with this bag, do com', we can't' wast' anytim' ther''s business to be don'!" The lass stared down, her black eyes glimmering with hidden secrets, "Yau're not' busy are yau? I do hop' not', becaus' I think yau shall be assisting me from now on. Com', com', we haven't' all day!" Angela exclaimed as she opened up her umbrella clutching it in one hand and giving it a light twirl in her hands, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson, yau may call me Miss Angela." "W-what?" sputtered Aymer, as he scrambled backwards. "C-come with you? Where?" He looked around to see if there was anywhere to run to, away from this person. "I uh- N-no I'm not b-busy, but-" He slipped in the sand again, as he tried to stand up. "W-who are you?" She laughed and shook her head, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson of caurs'! I said that' already silly boi, now com', com'. Ther''s work to be don', and I don't' intend on carrying this all the way to wher' we'll be going!" She was now staring down at him, her eyes glimmering with the slightest hint of impatience. It was now that he noticed the odd tan fur she seemed to have covering up her skin, and the porcupine like spikes coming out of her back.
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Aymer Morwen
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Appearance: Aymer is rather short and skinny for an elf, with reddish-brown hair going down to his shoulders. His eyes are a piercing ice blue. His hands are thin and small, without much meat on them.
Equipment: Aymer carries very little with him. He often carries a plain knife, and a more decorated claymore in a sheath on his back.
Skills and Abilities: Aymer is moderately skilled with a blade, having a few years of experience. However, he is by no means a master, and still has much to learn.
He is particularly skilled in remaining unseen. While there is no magic involved, merely strategy and trickery, others often assume that he is able to use magic due to his uncanny ability to remain unnoticed.
Biography: Aymer is incredibly nervous and fidgety, as well as easily startled. His hands are often shaky due to his anxiety, and he has many doubts about himself that can lead to him not being able to perform simple tasks at an acceptable standard. However, he is very easily befriended, and doesn't mind the company of others. Often times, an offer of food will persuade him to warm up to you.
As a child, Aymer was often left at home to his own devices as his parents left to make deals with rather unsavory folks. As such, he resents his parents and can be rather cold towards those who try and persuade him to do something that he deems against his moral standards.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 9:47:05 GMT -5
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Post by Aymer Morwen on Jun 20, 2021 13:56:47 GMT -5
"W-what?" sputtered Aymer, as he scrambled backwards. "C-come with you? Where?" He looked around to see if there was anywhere to run to, away from this person. "I uh- N-no I'm not b-busy, but-" He slipped in the sand again, as he tried to stand up. "W-who are you?" She laughed and shook her head, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson of caurs'! I said that' already silly boi, now com', com'. Ther''s work to be don', and I don't' intend on carrying this all the way to wher' we'll be going!" She was now staring down at him, her eyes glimmering with the slightest hint of impatience. It was now that he noticed the odd tan fur she seemed to have covering up her skin, and the porcupine like spikes coming out of her back. "W-we? I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Aymer protested, standing up shakily and dusting the sand off his clothes. "W-where are w-we even going?"
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Angela Dickernson
Established
Let us make a nice cup of tea.
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 24
Appearance: She's wearing an elegant dark green dress, that is quite flowing in design, with large poofed out sleeves, it reaches all the way to her ankles, but it has straps that allow her tie it up to her knees or higher. Under that she wears pants full of deeply stitched on pockets with a plethora of supplies tied inside said heavily clasped pockets. Her boots had metal clasps on the toes allowing for protection, they were a mix of old armor and leather fashioned together. Her hat is long and wide allowing for a good amount of sun blockage.
Her face is completely covered in a light tan fur, although it shares completely human characteristics. The light fur coating covers her entire body, although on her back lie a plethora of hardened spikes, like that of a porcupine, each spike carefully coming out of holes specifically crafted in her clothing.
Equipment: She carries about a fairly large umbrella with a handle and frame crafted of careful bone. Inside was a carefully crafted launching mechanism...designed to send a sharp bone spike straight out at a wicked speed.
One such knife she carries is a gilded balisong blade, with gold lining the handle.
Chained to her wrist when she arrived on the island is a case, containing essentials for survival, including a china set, iron kettle, and supplies to set up fire.
Skills and Abilities: She can draw from her body, bone and fur limited only by her strength allowing her to grow out whatever she wishes out of solid bone.
Biography: One of the royals of a Naitiria lands. She too made it on the boats of her own countries desperate moves to survive. However, in the move she'd been separated, and had now ended up here in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Jun 14, 2021 23:50:00 GMT -5
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Post by Angela Dickernson on Jul 9, 2021 10:39:27 GMT -5
She laughed and shook her head, "My nam' is Angela Dickernson of caurs'! I said that' already silly boi, now com', com'. Ther''s work to be don', and I don't' intend on carrying this all the way to wher' we'll be going!" She was now staring down at him, her eyes glimmering with the slightest hint of impatience. It was now that he noticed the odd tan fur she seemed to have covering up her skin, and the porcupine like spikes coming out of her back. "W-we? I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Aymer protested, standing up shakily and dusting the sand off his clothes. "W-where are w-we even going?" Angela shook her head with a laugh, "That's funny, no com', com'. We haven't' got' the tim' to whin'. Off to the settlement' we go!" she said chuckling as she turned about and started to walk towards the Isran camp and the small bits of smoke that wisped about in the clean air.
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Aymer Morwen
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Appearance: Aymer is rather short and skinny for an elf, with reddish-brown hair going down to his shoulders. His eyes are a piercing ice blue. His hands are thin and small, without much meat on them.
Equipment: Aymer carries very little with him. He often carries a plain knife, and a more decorated claymore in a sheath on his back.
Skills and Abilities: Aymer is moderately skilled with a blade, having a few years of experience. However, he is by no means a master, and still has much to learn.
He is particularly skilled in remaining unseen. While there is no magic involved, merely strategy and trickery, others often assume that he is able to use magic due to his uncanny ability to remain unnoticed.
Biography: Aymer is incredibly nervous and fidgety, as well as easily startled. His hands are often shaky due to his anxiety, and he has many doubts about himself that can lead to him not being able to perform simple tasks at an acceptable standard. However, he is very easily befriended, and doesn't mind the company of others. Often times, an offer of food will persuade him to warm up to you.
As a child, Aymer was often left at home to his own devices as his parents left to make deals with rather unsavory folks. As such, he resents his parents and can be rather cold towards those who try and persuade him to do something that he deems against his moral standards.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 9:47:05 GMT -5
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Post by Aymer Morwen on Jul 16, 2021 12:52:58 GMT -5
"W-we? I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Aymer protested, standing up shakily and dusting the sand off his clothes. "W-where are w-we even going?" Angela shook her head with a laugh, "That's funny, no com', com'. We haven't' got' the tim' to whin'. Off to the settlement' we go!" she said chuckling as she turned about and started to walk towards the Isran camp and the small bits of smoke that wisped about in the clean air. "Wh- Hey! Wait up!" Aymer reluctantly followed Angela, running (and nearly tripping) in the sand to catch up to her. "Why d-do you even want my help?" He asked timidly. "I'm n-not very useful."
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Angela Dickernson
Established
Let us make a nice cup of tea.
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 24
Appearance: She's wearing an elegant dark green dress, that is quite flowing in design, with large poofed out sleeves, it reaches all the way to her ankles, but it has straps that allow her tie it up to her knees or higher. Under that she wears pants full of deeply stitched on pockets with a plethora of supplies tied inside said heavily clasped pockets. Her boots had metal clasps on the toes allowing for protection, they were a mix of old armor and leather fashioned together. Her hat is long and wide allowing for a good amount of sun blockage.
Her face is completely covered in a light tan fur, although it shares completely human characteristics. The light fur coating covers her entire body, although on her back lie a plethora of hardened spikes, like that of a porcupine, each spike carefully coming out of holes specifically crafted in her clothing.
Equipment: She carries about a fairly large umbrella with a handle and frame crafted of careful bone. Inside was a carefully crafted launching mechanism...designed to send a sharp bone spike straight out at a wicked speed.
One such knife she carries is a gilded balisong blade, with gold lining the handle.
Chained to her wrist when she arrived on the island is a case, containing essentials for survival, including a china set, iron kettle, and supplies to set up fire.
Skills and Abilities: She can draw from her body, bone and fur limited only by her strength allowing her to grow out whatever she wishes out of solid bone.
Biography: One of the royals of a Naitiria lands. She too made it on the boats of her own countries desperate moves to survive. However, in the move she'd been separated, and had now ended up here in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Jun 14, 2021 23:50:00 GMT -5
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Post by Angela Dickernson on Aug 7, 2021 10:16:18 GMT -5
Angela shook her head with a laugh, "That's funny, no com', com'. We haven't' got' the tim' to whin'. Off to the settlement' we go!" she said chuckling as she turned about and started to walk towards the Isran camp and the small bits of smoke that wisped about in the clean air. "Wh- Hey! Wait up!" Aymer reluctantly followed Angela, running (and nearly tripping) in the sand to catch up to her. "Why d-do you even want my help?" He asked timidly. "I'm n-not very useful." "Oi now go pick up that' bag! I can't' hav' yau being useless now can I? We've got' a plaiss to be and we must' be ther' on tim'!" She said spinning around and looking just the slightest bit miffed that her very clear instructions had been so aptly ignored. Her dress swirled in the wind as she glared down at him with stern eyes.
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Oobie Doobie
New
Roleplay posts: 1
Age: Teen
Appearance: He is a Kobold with Green Scales, around 4ft tall. Wears a real shadowy looking cloak and his hand is covered in gold armor with one particularly sharp fingernail.
Biography: Oobie Doobie is the 1st son of Doobie du Shoobie, He hatched only a day before his brother and sister, but he would say he may as well have been a year old after that first day, in comparison to his silly siblings which hatched the next day.
Not Long ago, when his little brother went missing. His father had to go look for him and Oobie met with him one last time, telling him that he was going to go his own way for a while, and if he ran into his little brother he would send him back home.
Oobie would not return with him though, he told his father not to search for him, and to not interfere with his ambitions. Like his father did at his age, he is going through dark phase on a path of destruction to achieve a power of his own, possibly to become more powerful than his father... And of course, he's always a step ahead of his siblings.
He has a lot of minions that he hates because they are useless, most have died very recently, only 13 survivors.
Allegiances: The Hunting Legion, but mostly just himself
Place of Residence: Where are we?
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 14:50:46 GMT -5
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Post by Oobie Doobie on Nov 22, 2021 20:34:23 GMT -5
From the mist emerges a rickety, jerry-rigged ship barely being kept together. Some of the sails were ripped and there was a lot of holes from cannonballs, one of the masts is broken and leaning on the other one. There's a lot of shouting going on as land has finally been sighted. At last! Someone starts yelling at the others to slow the ship down and that they were going to crash, and he was right. The ship hits rocks and crashes into the beach. Someone jumps off the ship at the wrong time and gets crushed under the ship, others are killed when the broken mast falls down of the other one and crushes them. The survivors start climbing out of the wreckage or wading to shore. A lot of the creatures where struggling in the tide pools and needed to be rescued.
"You fools, I told you to drop anchor earlier! Now the ship is ruined!" A green-scaled Kobold wearing a dark cloak surveys the damage and starts bossing the other various creatures that were making their way over to him.
"Sorry Boss, we ah we uh dropped the anchor but it broke off and pulled Freddy down with it into the water."
"Useless useless useless... Save those you can! Collect the dead bodies too. We need to salvage everything we can from this wreck!" Oobie Doobie oversaw the whole operation and brooded in angst of the situation. This wasn't the first time the Hunting Legion got devastated, last time it was from a dragon attack, this was more embarrassing though.
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Piper
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Age: 25
Appearance: Piper stands at 5 feet, has red skin and similarly colored horns that curl in on themselves similar to a Ram. She has wide pupil-less green eyes and long eyelashes. Her Dark Brown hair is long and curly, going down to her mid-back except for her bangs which frame her face. She wears an abundance of red cloths wrapped over each other like someone living in a warmer climate, and from under, a long thin tail sometimes swishes about. With small sharp fangs and just as sharp claws, she has fierce traits in a small package.
While she looks like a healthy adult, the flesh on her chest has eroded away while what was left exposed survives and functions via visibly arcane means. The bones of her ribcage and her lungs are veined with necrotic magic, while her heart glows completely green like a jewel.
Equipment: Traverse Flute
Book of Necromancy
Skull Medallion with green emerald jewels for eyes.
Skills and Abilities: Flautist: She is versed in flute playing, including playing flute for the purposes of arcane channeling.
Necromancy: Arcane manipulation of the dead for the purposes of the living.
Raising the dead: Can raise a body into a mindless thrall.
Requires: Remains, blood sacrifice.
Control Undead: Weak willed undead creatures will fall under the musical control of Piper.
Spirit calling: A subset of necromancy with the focus on calling upon the spirits of the deceased for the purposes of divination, communication and discovery of knowledge.
Requires: Remains of the deceased, or Item from the deceased.
Purification: Can purify curses or remove negative energies and arcane influences.
Requires: Salt, Purified water, Clay statuette effigy.
Blessing: Offers additional protection against dark arcane forces, undead and evil spirits.
Requires: Salt, Purified water.
Biography: Necromancer on a mission to spread the message of the good death.
Allegiances: Death
Place of Residence: N/A
Registered: Jan 27, 2022 16:26:43 GMT -5
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Post by Piper on Sept 3, 2022 21:23:13 GMT -5
The waves crashed harshly against the stone plates that sliced through them like knives. The wind swirled violently in this spot where currents met and fought for supremacy. For people these conditions were uncomfortable, but for the plethora of crabs foraging for food in the shallow pools it was a home like any other. Piper clutched her shawl closed against the sharp wind trying to rip it away. Her other hand gripped onto a stone shelf to steady herself as her foot slipped on the stone slickened by salt and the sea. It felt like it had been a long trek to get this far. At the beginning of her journey, she'd been full of energy and had been looking forward to stretching her legs and see the landscape with her own eyes. Now, however, she felt out of breath, perhaps even a bit lightheaded. Maybe her breakfast had been too heavy? Maybe not heavy enough? As her blood red fingers gently slid along its surface that smoothed imperceptibly with each high tide, she eyed the flier she clutched in her hand.
This was it, really. The paper boasted of mages seeking to share and spread knowledge, and naturally she became curious. The tower depicted artistically on the page itself matched the silhouette of the tower standing in stark contrast to the jagged sea of teeth-like stone that surrounded. There was relief at the sight; the tower could offer some much needed shelter from the battering elements on the shore. It would take much longer to turn back, and so, she might as well press on. After taking a moment to catch her breath in the bit of shelter the shelf offered, Piper once against braved forth. Her sandals kicked at some stones, many of them colorful, but none of which glittered quite enough to catch this little demon's eye.
The musician had a brave face on when she climbed the she few shelves that served as the last pieces of land before the moat that surrounded the tower made itself a nuisance. Once again out of breath, this time far faster than the first, she braced herself on her knee, breathing just to ease the tightness she felt in her chest. The dizziness that came with it clouded her judgement as she suddenly felt more of an urge to brave towards the tower. She saw stained glass windows cast colors in the reflections of the murky water, and the lack of a door didn't seem to dissuade her from jumping into the water of the moat. At fir the water was shallow, but then it suddenly dropped off deeper, a natural design of the water pools. The salt water soaked into the fibers of her clothes, her shawl that used to keep her warm now almost acting like a net restricting her movement as the current was enough to threaten to drag her down. Her chest cavity filled up with cold water, which shocked her lungs and heart directly. She could feel her heart suddenly beating erratically, as if it was struggling to keep up with the sudden demands of her body.
The last few seconds, Piper felt the tightness in her chest return as her limbs struggled too reach even above the surface of the water. She didn't even have the time to cry out for help that everything suddenly went dark and she was pulled under the water.
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Gray
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 124
Registered: Jul 2, 2021 10:00:37 GMT -5
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Post by Gray on Sept 15, 2022 14:03:21 GMT -5
Inside the Tower, a girl sat curled in a window-seat, light splashing blue across her face. There was a man sitting at a table, trimming a potted bush with tiny scissors, in silence; behind him, turned a set of gears that they were both trying to ignore, and in-between them, flickered a candle that made everything smell of fried chicken. The sound of the waves seemed distant. All around them, in pots, in hanging curtains, under glass, in clumps of moss, there were plants.
There was a chill, going across Nina's back. She looked up from her roughly-crafted papers, beyond interwoven vines, at the man, and announced:
“There is magic.”
Her feet slipped out of the blanket.
The moments that passed were made of water. Water and worry and force. At first, the worry of what the Clocktower had come up with, for this new magic was remarkably similar to it. It came in pulses. Bare feet climbed the glass roof of the Tower; brown eyes threw glances around for that faint, dark aura. There – a mass, like a finely-threaded red seaweed, that hadn't been there before. Nina jumped.
“There is someone-!”
There was a dull ache, as Nina and the strange red-skinned figure struck the black stone wall of the Tower, moments later.
There is horror that is slow to build. For you cannot rescue someone from drowning without getting quite close to them, and a necromantic heart beating against the shoulder of perhaps the strongest magic-sensor in Port Argentium, with mere layers of cloth in-between, was something that took imagination to ignore. A fracture?, Nina thought. Emaciation?
“Gray, their chest is...” Nina coughed, struggling to keep the other's head out of the water, while also wrapping rope under their arms, for Gray to pull them up. It would have been easier to drag the stranger to the shore, Nina thought, but magic was too deeply involved. She stared at the way the rope caught onto a nub of...something...bone, that wasn't supposed to be there, and felt her blood draining. “Isn't.”
For a second, she looked up at her mentor on the roof. Was this someone, she wondered, or something? A trap of the Clocktower, that they'd been expecting for so long? A marionette of the Blood-Witch up the cliff?
There was a sharp sting as, high up on the glass roof, a rune was carved into the shoulder of the unconscious stranger.
“There is a reason for the wards not allowing everyone in.” Gray spoke, while Nina sheathed her blade.
“Yes.” Nina responded, and Gray thought she had learned altogether too much from him. He slipped back inside the Tower, and was there to receive the stranger in his arms when Nina pushed her body through the trapdoor.
“She might not survive the treatment.” Above, Nina shuddered. “Chest compressions-”
Gray shook his head.
“Still, a pulse.” He announced. His glass-like eyes pinned the stranger's unconscious figure. While Nina had been panicking about the doorway magic, he had held the stranger's wrist. Calmly unwrapping some of her layers, until he could see the green glow emanating from her chest. With one arm he held her legs tighter, while the other went around her shoulders, and then around over her chest, his fingertips brushing her neck. Thumb and forefinger found soft spaces just under the ear. He pressed.
Pain. Sharp, sudden. “I have some experience with this.” He said, and turned her upside down.
If the stranger came to, it might be on her side, on a window that most strangely seemed embedded in the floor, with the eye of an octopus watching her from the other side.
“..the throat closes to prevent more water coming in. There are ways to break that reflex.” A white-haired man dressed as a shadow explained. In the background, a girl with beads in her hair was climbing down from the roof.
“What is your name? Can you hear me?” Gray pondered, as he crouched down by the stranger's side. His tone was as cold as the sea, but calm. “If not, I may need to try poison.”
ooc: Please do not use Gray's method if you ever need to rescue a draining victim. I just went by Rule of Cool.
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Piper
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Age: 25
Appearance: Piper stands at 5 feet, has red skin and similarly colored horns that curl in on themselves similar to a Ram. She has wide pupil-less green eyes and long eyelashes. Her Dark Brown hair is long and curly, going down to her mid-back except for her bangs which frame her face. She wears an abundance of red cloths wrapped over each other like someone living in a warmer climate, and from under, a long thin tail sometimes swishes about. With small sharp fangs and just as sharp claws, she has fierce traits in a small package.
While she looks like a healthy adult, the flesh on her chest has eroded away while what was left exposed survives and functions via visibly arcane means. The bones of her ribcage and her lungs are veined with necrotic magic, while her heart glows completely green like a jewel.
Equipment: Traverse Flute
Book of Necromancy
Skull Medallion with green emerald jewels for eyes.
Skills and Abilities: Flautist: She is versed in flute playing, including playing flute for the purposes of arcane channeling.
Necromancy: Arcane manipulation of the dead for the purposes of the living.
Raising the dead: Can raise a body into a mindless thrall.
Requires: Remains, blood sacrifice.
Control Undead: Weak willed undead creatures will fall under the musical control of Piper.
Spirit calling: A subset of necromancy with the focus on calling upon the spirits of the deceased for the purposes of divination, communication and discovery of knowledge.
Requires: Remains of the deceased, or Item from the deceased.
Purification: Can purify curses or remove negative energies and arcane influences.
Requires: Salt, Purified water, Clay statuette effigy.
Blessing: Offers additional protection against dark arcane forces, undead and evil spirits.
Requires: Salt, Purified water.
Biography: Necromancer on a mission to spread the message of the good death.
Allegiances: Death
Place of Residence: N/A
Registered: Jan 27, 2022 16:26:43 GMT -5
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Post by Piper on Oct 13, 2022 13:05:34 GMT -5
Under the water there was always a sense of peace, calm and stillness that accompanied the bitter cold. Piper could have mistaken the sensation for floating, if she hadn't been sinking like a sack of stone, or if she were conscious to feel it at all. The girl's head had rested limply on Nina's valiant shoulder as the poor girl struggled to have them both lifted from the water. With her head above water she could hear muffled voices like hushed mutterings from a different room.
The numbness that had taken over by then, she could have sworn she felt a pressure behind her, but casting arcane eyes behind herself, they came up empty and blind. She continued to feel these pressures and forces, there but indescribable and fleeting. Piper would have felt almost comfortable to stay within that void, if only she could bring herself to call out, talk, ask, make a sound, but a death grip over her voice kept her silent.
Until a sudden shock of sensation at once brought everything back. Piper felt herself slam back into her body as Gray pinched a nerve. Her eyes shot open, with a gasp of air, followed by coughing and vomiting a bit of sea water that had found itself in her lungs. Mid cough, the red-skinned horned creature glanced up, looking out the window in time of seeing the eye looking back. That had been enough to startle the musician, causing her to scream and shuffling back, only to bump harshly into a different kind of wall that was named Gray. Another adjustment, and she squeezed herself in the space between the window and Gray.
"P-poison?? No, no poison here, quite well! Er..." Her hands pressed against the wet cloths weighing her down and drew out her focus, the flute that miraculously remained in her possession despite all of the turbulence. She pressed the end of her flute against Gray's Chest with a long nudge for him to give her a bit of breathing room. "Parrdon me- I uhh.... um..." She tried to think of the words to explain herself, or anything but all at once, languages left her tongue tied. She decided to fall back on the script she knew by heart. "Hhhello! My name is Piper." She extended her hand generally towards Nina and Gray, unsure who to extend it to. "Where..?" the question was accompanied by a vague gesture denoting the room.
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