>_> I just really need to to talk about this stupid gosh darned comic and ALL THE FEELS.

So who's a fan? And how caught up are you? 8D Who're all your faves? AND HOW NOT READY ARE YOU FOR THE END???

Because I'm not ready. ):

All these updates have been destroying me. |:

And for anyone not in the know, because people always have the hardest time explaining what the heck is this comic:

Four long-distance, online buddies start playing a very nice game together...that brings on the apocalypse. |: They fuck shit up. Now they have to unfuck it. Also there are aliens. And shenanigans. And awesome yet bizarre creation mythology. And horrendous art. And amazing art. And even more amazing music and animations.

There is hilarity! And ridiculousness! And you'll be laughing one panel and turn to the next one and tear up in distress. |: It's a feels rollercoaster and good luck keeping track of the paradoxes. The characters are amazingly deep and well-developed, the plot twists are many, and don't skip the intermissions.

Also, bear with it through act 1! SHIT PICKS UP FAST.

@visualspice! 8D

---

Liam was so not thrilled to be here.

Thaedes was a bloody mess--quite literally. It had never really recovered from the massacre, and Liam wasn't sure it ever would. As he patrolled the streets with its dilapidated, burned buildings, crawling with stray dogs and rats and street rats, he wasn't so sure it should be salvaged. Maybe the place was as corrupt as Krah had decided it was. Maybe its destruction was a cleansing.

Too bad he had to be here to deal with said mess, cleaning up the dregs when he could have been in the thick of things instead, doing something that actually mattered. But instead he'd drawn the short straw and been one of the unlucky blokes put on clean-up duty--though he supposed he shouldn't be so bitter.

If there were mage nests here, they needed to be cleaned up like the others, and no such holy work was mediocre in Ansgar's eyes.

It was night now, though, and once again Liam had drawn the short straw and got saddled with a midnight patrol on top of an already long day. Which wouldn't have been quite so excruciating if it was a part of the city he was convinced nothing ever happened, it was so burned out. But who knew? Maybe there was a pack of rats hidden among the ashes? It was a little too quiet here, he thought as he poked around a dilapidated building that looked about ready to crumble at a touch. But it had been eerily quiet the two days he'd been here, too.

Still he kept a hand near his sword, just in case. If there were mages still here, chances were, they weren't stupid; they knew there were Mordecai in town on clean-up duty, so if they were smart, they'd be laying low.

It was only a matter of flushing them out.

It had been a wonderful nineteenth birthday, to say the least.

Namely because Valor had spent the latter half of it gloriously drunk, boozing it up with his friends and eating himself sick--so that he had room to eat more, of course. The earlier part of the day had been spent with his family, where they had had a respectable meal together and given him gifts, family heirlooms and other such garbage he didn't really care about. But he could pretend to be respectable long enough to make it to the real party.

That party had spanned across several taverns and lasted until they got kicked out of the final one for being too rowdy. Finally, as night stretched toward the morning hours, they returned home, and Valor finally trudged up to his quarters and collapsed into bed, still fully clothed, reeking of stale beer, and smeared here and there with some lady's bright red lip paint.

He didn't get much rest at all before a knock sounded at his door, along with muffled laughter. He groaned and lifted up onto his elbows. He really just wanted to sleep now.

"What is it?" he called, and the door cracked open to admit one of his best friends, Pari. Who was wearing a shit-eating grin and shuffling his feet.

"Oh, nothing! I just realized I'd forgotten to give you my gift to you. The time just wasn't right, since I figured you'd want to be alone to enjoy it."

Eh? Valor rubbed his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Looking out into the hallway, Pari snapped his fingers at the servants waiting beside him. "Go on, bring him his gift, then! Oh, Valor, you're going to love it, I know! Tell me all about it tomorrow!"

And with a final wink his way, Pari left, leaving the servants behind to bring him...whatever it was they were bringing him.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Victoria Heidrich
Age
18
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Connlaothian
Height
5'3"
Occupation
Noblelady!
Residence
Feirja, Connlaoth

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Victoria's hair is a wild mess of thick, curly red hair that is difficult to tame, and quite the bane of her servants' existence! It falls down to her hips and is quite pretty, if not an unholy terror to deal with! Just caring for it alone can take hours.

She has large, bright green eyes and a heart-shaped face, with full lips and pale, freckled skin. Slightly chubby, with curvy hips, a shapely butt, thick thighs, and an ample bust, and a soft rather than athletic build.

She can always be found wearing whatever's new and trendy and fashionable! She loves keeping up with the latest trends and rocking whatever makes her look best!

Personality
Bubbly and excitable with a silly sense of humor, Victoria is a social butterfly and basically just wants to be everyone's friend. She also just wants to make everyone look fabulous! She loves shopping the marketplace, dressing people up, and dressing up herself--which can sometimes be at odds with her love of sweets, as she has to watch that she doesn't overindulge. Fashion is her passion! (But so are cookies.) And in her free time, she even tries her hand at designing her own clothes. Her skill has gotten much better over the years, compared to the travesties of her childhood.

She does her best to be kind, but of course she has her failings--namely in the form of ignorance and privilege, since she doesn't know much about the plights of the poor. She was also raised to be prejudiced of, and afraid of, mages. Her parents always claimed that no one knows for sure whether or not the "affliction" is catching.

Is a little spoiled, living a privileged life and all, but is just more oblivious than she is bratty. That said, she's a bright girl, if a little sheltered, and has confidence in spades. Perhaps to the point of overconfidence, which can be an asset and a drawback depending on the circumstance.

Magic/Abilities
None! (MAYBE. RHI HASN'T DECIDED HOW AWFUL THEY WANNA BE YET.)

Decent seamstress!

Relationships
Father: Matthias Heidrich, Duke of Feirja
Mother: Eva Heidrich, Lady of Feirja
Older brother: Laurence Heidrich, heir of Feirja

History

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[@DaGlobster !]

It was a dark, moonless night.

Or maybe not moonless, but the moon and stars were covered by a thick layer of low storm clouds, the smell of rain heavy in the air even though it hadn't yet fallen. But from the electric feeling in the air, the way Owl's hair and clothes crackled with static when she moved, and the distant rumble and flashes of light, they were in for one hell of a storm when it finally decided to deliver.

Which made Owl rather uneasy, considering she was currently perched atop a roof.

Eyoni, please don't zap me, she prayed, beseeching a local thunder goddess as the building wind whipped her ponytail right into her face. She scowled and shook it out of her eyes, waited for the last flash of light to dim--it was distant, but just close enough to reach across the sky--before using the darkness as her cover as she picked her way across the roof.

Beneath her, a group of men swaggered together, laughing and cracking crude jokes, and she followed alongside them from above.

It was only one of the men that she was interested in, a man off to the right dressed in a long coat and wearing an overly large hat.

He was the man she'd seen on the wanted posters. He was the man wanted for the rape and murder of street urchins.

She wasn't really supposed to be out on a mission. Tonight was just supposed to be another training night, but as luck would have it, that bastard just delivered himself right to her. She had some time to kill anyway, since she was early...

And she wasn't about to let that fucker get away.

But for now, she just followed him, observed him.

And when an opening presented, she would take it

If you're a mobile user, then you've probably noticed a new alert at the top of the page when you sign in, something about tapatalk! So, Rhi got a smartphone and when they signed onto SotE, they saw it wasn't super mobile friendly. xD

Tapatalk is an app you can use that makes mobile browsing and posting super clean and easy! The only downside is that it has no cbox view. But otherwise, it's fabulous!

Hope that clears up any confusion there may have been! ♡

Sent from my SM-G920P using Tapatalk

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Tiaret
Age
20
Gender
Female
Species
Lion-shifter
Ethnicity
Essyrni?
Height
5'1"
Occupation
Healer/musician
Residence
The surrounding areas of Essyrn!

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Tiaret is tiny. Much smaller than most of the other members of her pride, with a slender, graceful build, soft, feminine curves, and full, dark lips. Her skin is a rich umber in color and dusted with freckles along her nose and cheeks and the rest of her body here and there, and her hair is tawny brown, darker on the undersides. She wears her thick hair short and shaggy and shaved along the left side, decorated with tiny braids here and there. Her eyes are hazel in color, favoring green--but they are cloudy. Blind eyes. Most of the time, however, she keeps her eyes covered with a blindfold to protect them from the sunlight.

She looks mostly human, save for her ears, which are those of a lion, her sharp teeth, the retractable claws that replace blunt human nails, and her tufted lion's tail. She can also shift into lion form, where she takes the shape of a small, tawny lioness.

She tends to dress simply, in skirts and loose, sleeveless tops that tie around the neck. Her ears are also pierced, and she often decorates her tail with bangles.

Personality
Quiet, shy, and soft-spoken. Tiaret is lucky to be alive, and to have survived so long with her condition, and she knows it--and often deals with a lot of insecurity as a result of that, since she has to rely so heavily upon others. She worries about being useful, and so goes out of her way to find work she can do, since she can't hunt or scout. Above all else, she worries about being a burden.

Beneath all that, however, one can find someone who is calm and kind, and relies more on rational thought than emotional. After all, she has found work as a healer, for she was lucky to be born with magic, and being calm and rational is key when dealing with upset patients! She has worked very hard to adopt proper bedside manner and keep her thoughts inside!

Unfortunately, she's become so good at that that she doesn't really know how to let other people inside.

Magic/Abilities
Healing! Tiaret can heal with magic, though her gift only goes so far and has to be supplemented with traditional medicine, which she practices as well. She has familiarity with a wide variety of plants (which she can recognize by feel and smell and taste--where it's safe!), and she knows how to set a bone and bind a wound.

She's also got a great ear for music, and is adept at playing the kora.

Relationships
Her mother, Chephirah! Also an older sister and older brother. And the rest of their pride. 8D

History

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Gonna be at Disneyland until late Thursday! So I probably won't be around. <3

See ya when I get baaaack!

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Chephirah
Age
40
Gender
Female
Species
Lion-shifter
Ethnicity
Essyrni
Height
6'2"
Occupation
Hunter!
Residence
The surrounding areas of Essyrn.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Chephirah is tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders, toned muscle, and defined abs. Her build is on the curvy side with an average bust she often keeps bound, and her looks are rather androgynous, and she often presents as male. Her skin is a rich umber in color, and her eyes are golden yellow (though the right is a bit cloudy) and framed with thick lashes. She has a tawny mane of thick, fluffy hair that falls down to mid-back. It's darker on the underside, almost black, and lighter on top, like a lion's mane. She usually wears her hair loose and wild, for her hair is a source of pride for her, though she ties it back when on the hunt.

She looks mostly human, except for a few small differences--like the small, furry rounded ears, like a lion's, that poke out from her hair. She also has a lion's tufted tail, wicked canines, and retractable claws instead of a human's blunt nails.

She bears many scars on her body, scars which obviously came from claws. Her shoulders, chest, and thighs bear a series of them, but the ones that catch peoples' eye immediately are the four slashes that cross over her face and blind her in her right eye.

She dresses simply, in loose pants that cut off below the knees, and a simple, light shirt, complete with a colorful sash and sandals. Often wears many colorful, beaded necklaces, anklets, and bracelets.

In her lion form, she is roughly the size of a male--and looks really no different from one, for she is a maned lioness.

Personality
Gruff, no-nonsense, and fiercely protective. Chephirah would die to defend her people--and nearly has before! However, though she is known for being fierce, on the inside she's a cuddly ball of fluff who's very affectionate with the members of her pride, and who would really rather be lazing about in the shade of a large tree.

Magic/Abilities
Shifting! Chephirah can shift into lion form at will. She's a formidable opponent in human or lion form, preferring hand to hand (or...paw to paw?) combat, and is not the sort to back down when challenged or threatened.

Relationships
Her pride! Chephirah is the leader of her pride, and due to her mutation she's been successful in driving away challenging males. Most simply see her and assume she's a male and leave her the hell alone. She's not the only maned lioness in her pride; the mutation runs strong in her group, so it's not uncommon among them, though not all lionesses are maned. For the few males that have challenged her leadership, however, she's thus far been able to successfully fight them off--often with the aid of another maned lioness or two, which gives the impression that they're a coalition.

Chephirah has two daughters and a son, who was her oldest. Her daughters are still with her, but her son was sent out into the world when he was old enough, as is her kind's tradition, to seek a pride of his own. Unlike most prides, not everyone in her pride is related to her; she takes in other lion-shifters from other prides, too--many times it's pregnant women who left their pride when a new male took over, fearful that their children might be killed for not being his, or just women who might not like their leader. Lions can sometimes be dicks. |:

She has a good relationship with her pride, and their society is very cooperative. They all take part in hunting, gathering, caring for children, and caring for the elderly.

History

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Sachi fought like a wildcat all the way to the gallows, but it did little good. With one guard on each arm, she was dragged through the crowd that spit and sneered at her, the captured thief condemned to die. Here and there, she even got pelted by rotten, rancid fruit that soaked into her hair and clothes and made her gag.

Angry and bursting with adrenaline, it didn't even occur to her to be afraid until the crowd parted and she caught her first glimpse of the noose, dangling at the top of the scaffolding while the hooded executioner still fiddled with it. That was when anger turned to panic, and her struggles redoubled. Loudly cursing her captors, she twisted in their grip and tried to kick them, jerked back and forth between them to test their hold, and even leaned as far as she could to try to bite one. But that just earned her a smack across the face and a bloodied lip, and she soon found herself at the bottom of the steps that would lead up to her death.

"W-wait!" she said, turning to the guard that hadn't smacked her. "Hey, wait, ya don't...haha, ya don't really wanna do this, right? Murder a poor girl?"

The guard didn't look at her. "It's not murder when it's a criminal. It's justice."

"Justice." Sachi shook her sweaty silver hair from her eyes, the dirty locks falling in a tangled mess around her shoulders. Prison hadn't treated her well. "C'mon, ya don't even know me! What if I'm like...uh...a mother! Got a family!" She winced when she saw him roll his eyes skyward. "I could have a family! Ya never know! I was only stealing so I could eat, though. Honest! Doesn't that just warrant the lash? Can we do that instead? Sounds like a great time to me!"

"Holding up a caravan so you could eat," the other guard, who had been listening in, said flatly. "Mhmm."

"...I was really, really hungry?" Sachi said with a sheepish, miserable smile, amazed at herself for being able to joke even now. But the guard only scowled and she hunched her shoulders.

Seeing she'd find no sympathy here, her eyes darted around the crowd, searching for empathy somewhere. But all she saw were jeering faces. She swallowed hard, sweat beading along her pale skin. She needed to figure out something, and fast. Unfortunately, strategy had never been her strength; she was a girl of action.

"You could just, you know, look the other way and I'd smack you and we could both pretend you fought real hard but I got away anyway?" she suggested with a weak laugh, to no response.

At the top of the scaffold, the executioner gave the guards a signal, and Sachi grunted as they starting dragging her up the stairs. Heart lodging itself in her throat, she set her feet against the steps and tried to brace herself so they couldn't drag her, but they yanked her forward and she just ended up stumbling and scraping her knees on the steps, tail lashing about wildly as she tried to balance herself. Even struggling and swearing all the way, it wasn't long before she reached the top.

One of the guards forced her to her feet and bound her hands behind her back while the other held her. And then, when he was done, another guard held her in place as the executioner slipped the noose around her neck, tightened it, and checked the placement of the knot.

She was running out of time.

"Any last words?" one of the men said as Sachi struggled to stand, her legs turned to jelly.

She latched onto that.

"YES! Actually, I do have some last words! A lot of them, actually!" She cleared her throat, surprised her voice wasn't as wobbly as it wanted to be. Something about this all still felt very, very surreal.

"I, er, I prepared this story, you see, and it's super sentimental and important to me so my last request is that I get to tell it before I die 'cause I haven't told it to anyone else and it's super great if I say so myself! Okay, so, there was this guy, see, and he lived under a bridge, but one day this crazy thing happened and..."

And she was totally pulling this out of her ass. But it had worked in that one story from the desert, about a girl scheduled to die who had prolonged it through storytelling, so...

Why not?

I'm getting back into the swing of things! 8D And so as I work on catching up, I also wanna get some threadless characters into some threads! So I figured I'd plop this up here and see who bites!

Note: I may be a liiiittle slow, as I'm getting over some nasty virus. But I wanted to get this up! 8D So that the plotting can begin!

CERYS
New character! She's a necromancer! And she travels around stealing souls for her cult, which has brainwashed her! >8D She could be tailing a target or something and things could get complicated! Or something! She's up for adventure! Romance! Intrigue! She'd also make a good antagonist if you wanna make your character a target! ;D

JIROU
He's an arteeeest! And an assassin. He doesn't like the assassin bit. He's pretty chill and flirty for the most part, just...y'know...except when he has to murder someone. |: His day job is a tattoo artist and flesh sculptor! He will make you beaaaautiful! <3

NOOR
An adventurer and archaeologist! She likes to raid tombs and learn all the things. She's a giant nerd. A rich nerd, but a nerd nonetheless. Terrible social skills, terrible adulting skills, but hey! She knows how to have fun? 8D She's available for adventures, drama, danger, and romance! For the romance bit, she's into the ladies. <3

KYRAN
A half-incubus! Kyran is a giant, flirty, perverted dweeb who lacks the smoothness and finesse of his incubus side. He's up for adventure! Though he's got like zero survival skills and hates getting dirty. Very socially awkward. Isn't aware he's socially awkward. Also likes dudes.

NIAMH
Super religious, cocky, and self-righteous missionary sort! You're wrong, she's right, and you're a heathen if you don't believe what she does because her goddess says so. Nyah. |: Very prudish. Which, of course, means it'd be fun to throw her at someone who's irreverent and/or flirty. Clashing faiths = fireworks! And a lot of arguing.

QUINN
Quinn is a demon/vampire hunter! >8D They work for the Order of the Moon, the special ops group in Serendipity that hunts and exterminates the undead for The Greater Good! They're a workaholic and rough around the edges, but yes! Need a demon busted? A vampire staked? A zombie beheaded? They're your person! They could use some buddies, and enemies. >8D

YARRA
He's a very prickly young dragon-person. |: Very paranoid, very insecure, but deep down he's a lonely loner. He's only really a loner because he thinks everyone's out to get him, ahaha.

SABD
A dark fae's prisoner. Sadb ensnares folks in her thorns so said fae can feed upon them. Yikes. Very very bitter. Doesn't trust other people, either, since y'know...most people come after her to burn the witch. Also doesn't want to get too close to other people because she knows she'll have to hurt them. Which, of course, means I'd love someone to pull her out of her comfort zone. 8D (Or for someone to get pulled out of their comfort zone and ensnared in a...complicated situation!)

WAKIZA
A compulsive liar and bandit! He's a bad person. |: Need an antagonist? He volunteers as tribute!

DELWYN
A Connlaothian nobleman with a *~SECRET~*! He's a mage! He's a people person who's largely kept out of the civil war drama because it's awkward. >_> He'd much rather have a few beers and make love, not war.

TESSA
Another Connlaothian! She's a shepherdess and a mage working for the church! She's mostly been able to avoid a lot of notice, since she's usually out in the fields with her flock, but that sort of luck only holds so long. D8 She also, as luck would have it, has an older brother who's a Mordecai, and his name is...

LIAM
Tessa's brother! He's a giant grumpyface. |: Very srs. It'd be fun to toss him at someone who could loosen him up--or try his patience! He needs some friends. And hey, if you have any mages that need an antagonist in their life, he's your man! I must say I looove games of cat and mouse and frenemies and stuff so yes. >_> That is of interest to me.

QISMAT
A merchant prince! Who...is...accidentally a thief, because of the way his magic works. He also has a djinn in his employ, which is his other dirty little secret. xD He's a good dude though, and though he keeps slaves, it's really to save them from their situation. If you've ever wanted to play a slave character, and want a master who isn't a jerk, he's your dude! 8D

BOOOOOM!

The thundering sound echoed down the street, drowning on the shriek that followed it and the crash and crunch of splintering timbers. It came from one of the shops on one of the busiest streets in Mapleton, a quaint but bustling village in Moonspear, where Ife Avita lived. In fact, it was her family's bakery that was currently smoking--

Except, thank the gods above, it wasn't actual smoke that was wafting into the air.

It was just flour.

Flour and sugar.

The magical blast, however, had broken down the door and sent Ife flying, and as she lay stretched out on her back in the street, covered head to foot in flour and sugar and egg and yeast and chocolate and stunned from the impact, she thanked the gods above that her parents were out of town for the week.

Because they would have baked her alive if they saw what she'd (accidentally, she swore!) done to their bakery.

ERMAGHERD SOTE'S BIRTHDAY WAS YESTERDAY AND I WAS AT WORK AND FORGOT TO POST IT. D8

BUT YES!

SOTE IS 15 YEARS OLD NOW!

Holy crap!

It's ancient. |: I feel old. Y'all are aging me, stahp.

(jk, I love you all, you're all awesome and you made this place what it is! So here's to many more fabulous years, my friends! <3)

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Cerys
Age
26
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Unknown
Height
5'11"
Occupation
Necromantic priestess
Residence
A settlement near Fell, but wanders.

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Cerys is a rather pretty, tall woman with features that point to her being from no nation yet all nations all at once. She has light olive skin and a fair amount of freckles dusting her nose and shoulders and...well, pretty much everywhere. Her hair is strange and vibrant and reminiscent of a sunset, a mixture of rich violets and reds and oranges and yellows, worn down to mid-back, with sections of it braided and pulled back from her face. She has bright blue eyes, slightly tilted, and impish, full red lips, and a strong nose. Ruining her looks is the fact that her eyes often have dark shadows beneath them from lack of sleep. She has several piercings through her ears, and a loop through the middle of her lip.

She tends to dress in clothing lined with thick furs in cooler weather, and dons the clothing style of whatever nation she's visiting otherwise. Wears a necklace on a thick cord, with a pendant carved from bone with several runes etched into it, symbolizing her god. The bone comes from a chunk of human jawbone, though one would never be able to tell just from looking at it.

Personality
Rather world-weary. Not much seems to surprise her; on the contrary, surprises just seem to irritate her as an inconvenience. Cerys tends to give off an air of indifference concerning the goings on about her, in a distracted sort of way, as though she's not quite engaged with the world. Which is, in a way, true; she's a very focused person and when she's on a mission, she attacks it with a single-minded, fanatical determination. However, she also observes a lot more than she lets on.

Has a terrible sense of humor. Terrible as in it tends to very morbid. She's also not in the least bit squeamish, and has a fascination with the macabre. A natural consequence of, well, growing up as she did. |: It's not to say she's irreverent about death--quite the opposite. She respects it and fears it all the more because of what she is.

Has a very black and white view of the world, and regards people outside her faith as irreverent heathens. She has a rather strict moral code, though others might not really see the rhyme or reason of it.

Magic/Abilities
Necromancy. Cerys can control, well...bones. She can form constructs out of bones, or raise and puppet skeletons. It leeches her own energy to power another body, however, and the more intense the task, the worse the consequences. Thus, she is quite careful with this skill.

She can leech energy from other people, as well--and even kill that way. It requires physical contact with her victim for her to do that, though. It's her preferred way of gathering souls, as it's rather painless for the victim and bloodless. Violence makes it more difficult to catch and bottle a soul, whereas this is...gentler.

Disturbingly enough, this method does not instantly kill a person, though. Instead, it takes their soul, but leaves their body alive--just in a comatose state, though all their automatic functions (breathing, heartbeat, digestion, etc.) are still functioning. Theoretically, they could be kept alive if they're still fed and cared for, but at that point they're just a body; the person is gone. Death only occurs because the body ultimately shuts down from neglect.

She can also communicate with the dead. Doesn't really like to, though. All too often she doesn't get valuable information, but just winds up talking with spirits and demons masquerading as people.

Carries a ceremonial knife on her, engraved with runes, and a brass hip flash engraved with a different set of runes.

Relationships
Saray: Her cult's "god", a supposed deity of life, death, magic, and protection. She and her cult are religiously dedicated to him, and provide him with sacrifices of souls, blood, and flesh to make him stronger. He gives her a quota, she goes out and gets the job done.

The Cult: Cerys was raised in a cult. They include her foster parents and siblings. They are a small, fanatical group, and there is an extreme sense of loyalty and righteousness among members, a sense of "us against the world". They believe Saray is their savior god and that he can be made stronger through sacrifice--and that one day Saray will cleanse Fell, the place they believe is their ancestral home and holy land. Their goal is to gain followers for their cause, and sacrifice unbelievers to Saray to give him strength.

Necromancers are especially valuable to their faith, for they believe they were made in Saray's image and given his gift, his ability to manipulate and overcome life and death itself. Children are tested for such abilities, and if they show aptitude, they become their priests and priestesses.

History
She has one!

Who's doing it? 8D

I'm doing it. Again. As I do every year because I'm a masochist. xD

ADD MEEEEE to your buddy list yo.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Maxine "Max" Foley
Age
28
Gender
Female
Orientation
?????
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Connlaothian
Height
5'4"
Occupation
Knight of the White Lily
Residence
Reajh, Connlaoth

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Max has fair skin that develops a golden tan in the sun, cornflower blue eyes, and wavy, dirty blond hair usually worn braided. She has a heart-shaped face and full lips, giving her more of a soft, sweet look than the hardened look of a soldier.

She has the slender build of a fencer, with curves that are usually hidden beneath her clothes. When off the job, she tends to dress to wear flowing shirts with an under bust, usually completed with a fur-lined coat. Trousers and boots finish off the look. On the job, she can be found in chain mail armor, topped off by a tabard denoting her status as a Lily and Mordecai.

Personality
Genial, good-natured, and friendly. Max has a good sense of humor and an outgoing personality that makes her come across as a fearless social butterfly, as she's not afraid of striking up conversation with pretty much anyone. As such, she tends to flit in and out of different social circles and doesn't really stick to just one.

She tends to take insults with a grain of salt, usually shrugging them off. Some things do get under her skin, though, and when the right buttons are pressed, she doesn't get mad—she gets even. She is the sort of person to smile sweetly and later on poison your tea or kill your dog. (: Or, y'know, on the less extreme side of things, she'll at least suss out your deepest insecurities to casually use against you. She's very patient, and revenge will be served cold.

That said, and perhaps unsurprisingly...she's actually a giant sadistic asshole. Doing her job is quite easy, because she genuinely isn't affected by the pain of others. Her kindness is an act. She is manipulative and likes to become whatever she needs to be in a situation to accomplish whatever goal needed accomplishing. Also the sort that enjoys playing within the bounds of the rules, but exploiting loopholes.

A go-getter, Max has never been afraid of taking on leadership roles. She's an expert at compartmentalizing and leaving her own baggage at the door when it comes time to get down to business.

Rather on the prudish side. Max has taken the legend of the Adhara very literally, and has thus maintained a very chaste lifestyle. Basically, the most she's done is kiss another girl out of curiosity--before spending the rest of the night praying to Ansgar. |: Dislikes vulgarity and profanity.

Magic/Abilities
Adharism! Max is also a decent fighter, adept in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay.

Relationships
Parents are still alive! Yay! Has a younger brother out there somewhere.

History

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I owe like ALL THE POSTS to ALL THE PEOPLE and also know I have threads I owe! No worries! I haven't forgotten y'all!

Life just got hectic. With job stuff and whatnot. Hopefully I'll be getting a promotion, if the interview went well. FINGERS CROSSED THAT IT DID, I JUST HAD IT YESTERDAY. D8 *stressstress*

So yeah. I've been a ball of stress lately, lmao.

BUT TO EASE OFF THE STRESS I'M GOIN' ON VACATION and having company next week, so I'll be pretty ghost-like the 19th - 23rd! Going to Disneyland two of those days so yay!

Once that's settled I'm hoping to bang out a lot of posts. 8D Unless I don't get the promotion, in which case I'll be job-hunting for something better. ;___;

So if I seem scattered, this is why. >_>;; APOLOGIES.

Figured I'd put this up now before I forget. xD

So on Wednesday I'm getting oral surgery to remove my wisdom teeth. |: They've been hurting like hell for...uh...a while now and one got infected so it's been misery. So I've been rather loopy and falling behind between the pain and painkillers and stress. xD

I'm not worried about the surgery! I'll be knocked out for it and not even an appendectomy worried me. xD I'm more worried about my particular risks since one tooth's roots are on either side of  a nerve which, if damaged, can make my lips or tongue go numb. So that's like D8! Should be okay, though--doc's gonna leave the roots behind since the risk is too great.

But otherwise I'm soooo done and ready to get them out!

And basically I dunno how I'll be in the recovery stages, if I'll just be in a drugged stupor or maybe able to post. xD But if I feel up to posting, expect loopy posts! Fair warning!

[ @DaGlobster !]

Ghali was nothing if not a collector.

Only in his case, he tended to collect people, in one way or another.

Some were slaves, like Kuvira. Some were staff, his guardsmen and cooks and such. And some were curiosities, like Juras. Ghali had always had a love of the Colosseum games and he had heard word of the Longknife and how he, a volunteer, was rising through the ranks and starting to make a name for himself. It was definitely worth looking into, and when his men had confirmed that the rumors were true, Ghali decided he needed to be first to leap on the opportunity and sponsor him before others could.

It would be beneficial to them both. Ghali could provide him expert training, medical care, equipment, and better meals, and use his clout and influence to enter him into high profile matches Juras might otherwise not have access to, and as a result make a killing off of the winnings. Really, it was every gladiator's dream, free or slave, to receive the backing of a merchant prince. That was what really opened the doors for career advancement.

To celebrate their new partnership and seal the deal, Ghali invited Juras to dinner that night as a show of good faith and celebration--and because he always did love a good excuse to drink and feast. His cooks were whipping up quite the magnificent meal, complete with dessert, and Ghali was still fussing and getting ready and having his tailor do some last minute alterations to his rick silk robes, hemming it here and there. It was a bit tighter on him these days.

"Kuvira," he called, and she rose from where she'd been sitting on the bed. She, too, was dressed for the occasion, decked out in the gold jewellery (bracelets, anklets, and a lavish decorative collar) provided her by Ghali, though her clothing was simple but elegant; just a white sheath dress that reached her knees and hugged her shape, leaving little to the imagination. "Our guest should be arriving shortly. Be a dear and see he's made comfortable."

"Yes, master," she said with a bow, and turned to leave--but not before he gave her bottom a firm grope, his hand slipping up inside her dress. She was glad her back was turned so he couldn't see her scowl. Instead, she blushed prettily and made the proper noises, giving a coy little gasp and a soft, "Oh, master!"

It was amazing how some people never figured out she was faking.

"You look beautiful," he said. "Ravishing. I've half a mind to bend you over and have myself a little appetizer."

The tailor, who was busily fixing Ghali's other sleeve, cleared her throat loudly. Ghali glanced at her with raised eyebrows as though surprised she was still there, then slid his hand away.

"Right. Run along, then."

Thank freakin' Hakeshna.

With another graceful, "Yes, master," Kuvira smoothed down her dress and slipped out the door.

Finally!

At least tonight would be interesting. She'd get to actually meet a gladiator for more than five minutes, so that was something to spice up her otherwise dull social life. He would no doubt be leagues more interesting to listen to than Ghali's blabbering about things no one cared about but had to politely act like they did, and hopefully Ghali actually let him talk about the arena! Kuvira had been to several of the games over her life, and she quite enjoyed the bloodless ones--and on that league of thought, she couldn't help but wonder if this gladiator had ever killed someone.

As horrible as it was, there was something intriguing about the element of danger such a thing brought to the table.

And better yet, a partnership with him might give her easy access to arena information. She had learned of a few curious happenings over the last few weeks involving certain disobedient slaves--and it would be a good opportunity to get a finger on the pulse of such matters, and learn fact from fiction.

And so she waited near the door to let him in when he arrived and provide him whatever hospitality she could. Hopefully her master took longer; he tended to be fashionably late. She wanted a chance to feel him out on her own.

[ @DaGlobster !]

It was to be a non-lethal match, so there was that.

A non-lethal match, so no one had to die today. It would be a smaller crowd than the bloodsports, but there would still be a big turnout as usual--this was one of the most popular forms of entertainment in Essyrn, after all--and though Yasmin technically no longer had a master, considering he was dead, she had been tasked with the fun duty of keeping up appearances. You know, pretending Master Dearest was still actually alive by coming to these matches on schedule, like a good little slave.

Today, she'd be facing some guy called The Longknife. A volunteer gladiator, apparently, sort that did it for the money and not because he had no choice. She'd heard his name floating around the Colosseum before, and had decided the moment she heard he was to be her opponent that she was going to grind his face into the sand.

Maybe make him eat some while she was at it. Stick it up his nose. Make him shit sand for weeks.

Volunteer her black ass. She felt sorry for her fellow slaves, who were stuck in a situation they had no say in. But the volunteers, the ones who did it for shits and giggles and profited...now those were the ones she genuinely had it out for. She didn't normally think herself a vengeful person, but she got some small satisfaction whenever those ones failed.

Yasmin was at the Colosseum, but she was a bit early. Way early. Some of Karime's (rest in pieces!) servants had delivered her there the night before so she could prepare and practice and ready herself. And sleep in her crappy old cell in her crappy old bed. Now, with a bit under an hour until the match, she did her warm-up stretches and went through some drills, practicing a few maneuvers with her scimitar and hacking up a dummy.

Not that she'd be hacking up mister Longknife. These matches generally only went 'til first blood.

And damn if she wasn't out for his. Maybe some part of her was itching for a fight.

The last few days had been stressful, though, and for all that she hated this business...at least it was something she knew.

She gave the dummy a vicious slash across its "belly" and straw "guts" poured out. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mister Longknife!" she gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. "Did that hurt? Whoops! Must have slipped."

She slashed at it again, this time severing an arm. "Oops! Slipped again!"

Its other arm joined its twin. "Butterfingers! Gosh. It's almost like it just--"

There went its leg.

"--keeps--"

And its other leg.

"--happening!"

Its head went soaring. Yasmin inhaled deeply and swiped the back of her hand over her sweaty brow. "Not so long anymore, are you, Longwife? Stupid moneygrubber." She impaled it with a quick thrust through its middle.