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"Are you crazy? The lake's frozen."

"Yeah, but it only like just froze. It's still all thin."

"But it's frozen. It's freezing!"

"Ya sayin' yer scaaaared?"

"No, it's just...you're going to get sick."

Standing at the edge of the lake, atop a small ledge overlooking it, Siobhan turned and gave the other three Adhara with her a look. She huffed, hands on her hips, and looked down her nose at them. Being up there made her feel very tall, so she may as well take advantage. "You're sayin' that like I'm the only one gonna do this. I'm tellin' ya, this is an initiation. A tradition! All Adhara do it at the first freeze. Proves yer toughness!"

"I think you're just being crazy, Siobhan."

"I think yer all just bein' wusses."

"Seriously, I've never heard of this being part of any sort of initiation thing."

"Really?" Siobhan scrunched up her face. "Rose told me last year it totally was, that I was the only one hadn't done it."

"Rose was probably pranking you."

Siobhan frowned, thinking back. Rose had been laughing an awful lot...

"Whatever. Look, I'll even go first, just to prove it ain't no thing, ya buncha cowards!"

"Siobhan, I really think you shouldn't--!"

But Siobhan had already yanked off her clothes, tossing the garments to her horrified companions, and before they could cry out another warning, she shouted out, "Watch!" before she hopped off the ledge--

And landed on her bare ass on the ice with a loud THUNK that had her rolling over in pain. "AWWWWFU--FUDGECRACKERS!"

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The rain poured down, soaking Monster to the bone as she crept cautiously into the village.

It was night time, and she had checked very carefully to make sure no one was about before she made the decision to raid the rubbish heaps for food. She might be strong, and she might be fast, but she still hadn't managed to catch a single thing she'd hunted in the last few months and, thus, she had to resort to digging though trash. It was kind of embarrassing. Here she was, a great, hulking beast that so many feared, and she hadn't even been able to catch a rabbit! She didn't know the first thing about doing it.

Oh, well, that was a lie. She had caught one rabbit. And then she had just stared down at it in bewilderment as it struggled and kicked as she pinned it, its eyes wide and rolling. She had realized, in that moment, that in order to eat it she had to kill it after she caught it, and once she'd realized that fairly obvious truth, she hadn't been able to do it. She didn't know how. The mechanics were obvious: crush it, or cut its throat, something like that. But to go through with it? She couldn't stomach it. And so, after a long, awkward silence, she'd finally lifted her paw and let it run off into the bushes, likely as confused about the whole ordeal as she was.

She hadn't caught a single animal since.

Now here she was, not for the first time, keeping her ears perked for noise as she shuffled trash around and nudged at promising scraps of food with her bony nose, before chomping it down and swallowing it whole. Her stomach was rather indiscriminate; so far, nothing she ate upset it, even rotten meat, and she found she could eat quite a bit! She knew, deep down, that it should gross her out, though, and on some level she still felt that revulsion.

Chomping down an old chicken leg, she cringed on the inside even as she crunched it in two and gulped it down.

Delicious.

Tonight's rubbish pile was pretty promising, and she'd stumbled upon a veritable feast of slaughterhouse scraps. Knowing it might be a while before she ate this well again, she set to it, downing as much as she could--and letting her guard down a little too much in the process, not realizing that she wasn't alone.

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The dreamscape wasn't so different from the real world--mainly because it was influenced by dreamers, and most dreams, while often wild, were made up of elements that the dreamer had encountered in their life. That, and it was influenced by the dreamwalkers themselves; everyone perceived the dreamscape, and the dreams occupying it, differently. For Simonea, it was a dusky forest filled with many strands of silver threads like spidersilk, and each thread was a dream. It was beautiful to her, and yet it always had an eerie, ethereal quality to it.

That night felt especially unsettling to Simonea as she walked through a dream forest, following the silver threads of various dreams, plucking at them lightly to get a glimpse of them. Not all were peaceful; some were nightmares, taut and pulsing a sort of dark, restless energy, their silver tarnished, and she paused over those ones and gently stroked them, hoping to calm them and imbue peace. When the threads relaxed, no longer tight with tension and anxiety, she moved on.

She didn't have much time tonight to do more than that. Tonight was different. Tonight was a test, her first test, for tonight she was to cast away a demon.

It wasn't the first time she had battled a demon. She had dealt with her share of vampiric incubi. But this one was different. Stronger. It wasn't an incubus, but something else, something that lulled its victims to sleep before feeding on their blood--usually to the point of death. It didn't even bother to give its victim pleasant dreams, but instead riddled them with nightmares, relishing in the "flavor" the fear and adrenaline lent the blood. She could track it through the distinct "signature" its nightmares carried--a distinct sort of delight and perverse excitement--and attack it through those nightmares, once she found them. The demon was linked to the dreamscape by those nightmares, and thus vulnerable. If she played her cards right, she could seriously wound it, even kill it, as she had done with several incubi before it.

Of course, tonight might be a fluke. Maybe it wouldn't show up tonight. But there had been several unexplained deaths in the village she was staying in already, each victim drained of blood even though their bodies had no marks. She had to be close to solving this case!

And that was when she saw one nearby thread twitch and dull, and Simonea turned sharply and reached out to touch it--and let out a hissed gasp at the pain that seared through her fingers, burning her fae skin like iron. The thread writhed, and Simonea forced herself to grab it, gritting her teeth through the pain, and focused on the nightmare.

It was Annabel's nightmare, a young girl in a home right next to the inn Simonea was staying in. And as she delved deeper into the nightmare, one filled with more blood and gore than any child should know about, she knew the images didn't belong to the girl--especially as she felt the demonic delight radiating off them. The demon didn't discriminate when it came to its victims.

Fear clutched her heart, fear for the girl, and she knew she had to act fast; a child had far less blood than an adult. Reaching deep and ignoring the pain, she stepped into the nightmare even as every instinct screamed for her to flee. Instantly, she was surrounded by a horrorscape, some awful dream about rogues burning and slaughtering the entire village, and there were bodies and limbs everywhere, the smell of fire and offal so real Simonea gagged. And nearly vomited when she realized she was standing in a puddle of congealing blood.

It's not real, she reminded herself, not wanting to get swept up into the nightmare; it was too easy to lose oneself and fall asleep, whisked away by a dream, if one wasn't careful. And so she focused hard and looked around, searching for the cord that belonged to the demon--the one that linked its life to this world.

A dream-marauder with an axe swung it at her head, and with a thought, Simonea sent him sprawling across the ground. She imagined herself as being surrounded by a shield of light, and when another dream-bandit swung a cudgel at her, it bounced off the shield. Right then. That took care of those distractions.

Focus, Simonea.

Swallowing hard, she walked through the burning dreamscape with her head held high, keeping calm as she could. Her panic would only influence the dream, and influence it negatively. The cord could be anywhere. It could be disguised as an element of the dream itself. It could be--

And then she saw a red, shining cord on the ground, leading inside a dilapidated home. Picking up her pace, and dreaming a sword into her hands, she followed after it even as it slithered inside the home like a snake. Lunging for it as it tried to snake its way up the crumbling stairs within that dark home, she grabbed it in one hand to hold it steady even as she lifted the sword and prepared to strike--

Only for the rest of it to coil abruptly around her feet and yank, pulling her off balance. Before she could recover, another length of it shot around the hand that held the sword, and before she knew it, it had wrapped around her like a python even as she struggled.

She tried to scream, but it came out raspy from the pressure on her chest. And then, from the top of the stairs, a creature that may have once been a man emerged from the shadows and smiled a smile with far too many teeth. "Gotcha."



Simonea woke with a choked scream, eyes snapping open--and when they adjusted, she abruptly realized she was no longer in her room at the inn, but outside in the woods. Heart pounding, she jerked to sit up, but couldn't; her hands, she realized with a jolt of panic, were bound behind her back, and her legs were also bound.

Heart in her throat, hardly able to breathe, she turned her head--and found herself staring straight into the eyes of the demon where he sat not feet from her, grinning like a cat that got the canary. "Scream more," he purred. "They taste delicious."

It was a trap, Simonea realized as dread made her stomach churn like she'd eaten something rotten. The demon had felt her getting closer, had known she was onto it and tracking it.

And it had trapped her before she could trap it.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Simonea
Age
20
Gender
Female
Species
Fae
Height
5'2"
Occupation
Dream guardian
Residence
Wherever!


__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Simonea looks, for the most part, like a young human woman. Her hair is long and white, falling in loose curls down to her hips with an iridescent sheen to it, like the shimmer of a soap bubble, and her skin is almost just as pale. Her eyes are a pale crimson, and the eyelashes framing them are also stark white, as are her eyebrows. She has a heart-shaped face, full pink lips, and delicately pointed ears like an elf--though they are covered in longer iridescent blue and green feathers reminiscent of peacock plumage. More of those feathers can be found in her hair.

She has a slim, boyish build and a nearly flat chest. Also notable about her are her wings--dainty, feathered wings that can beat as fast as a hummingbird's and that are also the color of peacock plumage, a motif which extends to her long, feathery tail--which, yup, is that of a peacock, and which she can fan like one, too. Hey, that may be exclusive to male peacocks, but she's a fae, dammit, she can break the rules.

She wears a smooth, teardrop-shaped bead of scolecite on a chain that threads through her hair, so the scolecite comes to rest at the middle of her forehead. As for clothes, she favors simple garments: a loose, earth-toned dress that ties at the waist and leaves her arms bare. She rarely wears shoes.

Personality
Determined! Driven! She exudes confidence that she doesn't always actually have, but she believes in faking it 'til you make it and as a result, she often clams up about her true feelings.

But she can also be a bit of an anxious mess because she likes to have a plan, and when things don't go according to plan she can get frazzled. She's a neat freak that loves organization and order! She also dislikes crudeness; swearing and vulgarity makes her twitchy.

And I'm still figuring out the rest. 8D

Magic/Abilities
Dream magic!

Basically, she can enter the dreams of others, and influence them--or just listen in. It can be a useful way to gain information--if one knows how to interpret the symbolism of dreams, something she is still studying and learning. More importantly, however, is that she can also guard and protect against entities that prey on others through their dreams, like incubi and other demons. There are soldiers in the world that protect against physical threats; she and her kind are warriors of the dreamscape, and her kind believe that the dreamscape is only thinly separated from the otherworld, and that it can be a conduit between worlds.

Her other job, aside from serving as a protector, is to provide mercy and peace to the dying. She can access their dreams--and guide them to the otherworld, if they are willing.

Of course, drawbacks to this are that her physical body is vulnerable while she is in the dreamscape, as she is basically passed out dead to the world while she's there. If someone were to jostle her, though, it would snap her back--which is another drawback if she's in the middle of something intensive in the dreamscape! Also, injuries sustained in the dreamscape manifest for her in the physical world. If she's cut in the dreamscape, the injury appears on her body. If she dies there, she's dead.

Spending too much time there can make her disoriented and groggy, even if she technically has to enter REM sleep to enter the dreamscape.

Relationships

History
She's a young dream fae, still in training and learning the ropes, but eager to kick some demon ass.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
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http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=20999.0

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BOOOOOM!

The thundering sound echoed down the street, drowning out 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 out to land stretched out on her back in the street, covered head to foot in flour and sugar and egg and yeast and chocolate. 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.

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Kyori paced the floor of her cage, tail lashing like a striking snake and claws clicking along the dirty floor. It was a busy day at market, and there were too many people crowding around her confines--but very few people bold enough to get too close. She had almost gotten her claws into one foolish human who had pressed in for a closer look, but his reflexes had been solid. Not solid enough that she hadn't taken a chunk out of his tunic; the tatters were crumpled on the floor of her cage.

Her ears rotated, listening. One of the men who had captured her was talking about her in an effort to sell her, listing off her "good" qualities. She was inhumanly strong, great for manual labor, and intelligent enough to follow directions--with the aid of whips and prods, at least. She was also an unrivaled huntress, good for using on game hunts and able to taking down animals far larger than herself. She was also an oddity for personal collections of exotic beasts, capable of turning at least a few heads with her ability to camouflage herself--though one must also take caution with that, considering she could be easy to lose. She could also be a decent guard, if kept on a leash and properly controlled and tamed so she didn't turn on her master.

Oh, and as for the muzzle. Yeah, she spits poison. Best take care with that.

Kyori rolled her eye as she listened but smirked a little, even as the muzzle chaffed. He was doing a terrible job of selling her, since those points only made her sound scary--which she was, and which made her puff with pride. One of those squishy humans would have to be insane to think they could handle her--for she would kill them the first chance she got, and she didn't need her teeth or poison or even her claws to do that.

She would kill this man, too, and his friends, for capturing her. And she would make it a slow death for boasting about it, when in reality they had caught her in a moment of weakness, half dead and nearly frozen in the snow of  her homeland.

And when she returned to her homeland, she wouldn't be there long. She would come back with her people. And they would reign hell on this damned village, if she had anything to say about it.

Which, as their leader, she did.

Another human inched in a little closer to look at her, and she hissed like the savage they thought she was and launched herself at the bars, claws lashing out, the bars trembling as she slammed against them. The human fell back on his ass with a strangled cry, and Kyori nearly doubled over with laughter at his pitiful response, so like prey.

But instead she just growled again, low and deep in her throat, to hide the laughter bubbling up.

Idiots.

Of all the things that could have ruined her day, Siobhan hadn't expected a mudslide to be it!

Yet as fate would have it, that was exactly what it was.

While traveling back over the mountains to return to Connlaoth after chasing a criminal magic-user high into the Kilanthros, the journey back had been one disaster after the next, culminating in the mudslide that rainy, stormy evening. The mountainside above them simply gave out, and mud and rock and even trees came pouring down like an avalanche, taking a chunk of the mountainside with it.

Only by the grace of Ansgar was her party able to avoid it.

Unfortunately, in the process she got separated from her group, and even after the slide had ended, the path was so badly damaged and unstable there was no way to safely cross back over.

"It's okay!" Siobhan shouted to them, even as her nerves stood on end and pulse drummed in her ears. "I'll just...I'll meet y'all on the other side! I got enough rations, I'll be fine!"

Not that anyone had any choice on the matter.

And so Siobhan had taken off, pulling her hood in tight to try and ward off the pouring rain, and eventually she took up shelter in a small cave that looked dry and unoccupied. She didn't bother trying to make a fire; there was nothing dry enough to use for kindling. But she made the most of her night. She shed her dripping cloak and hung it up to dry, then sat huddled on the floor, listening to the rain, munching absently on some tough, tasteless jerky--and anxiously watching the lightning flash across the sky, each bolt making her jump.

Because she hated lightning.

And hated thunder more.

And it was growing closer.

Soon she finished off her piece of jerky, and so she just sat there, curled into a ball and trying not to flinch and shiver at each crackle of lightning and boom of thunder--until one flash was particularly close, and the BOOM that followed was so loud, and so close, that she let out a shriek, leaped to her feet--and smacked her head against the low ceiling.

"OHHHHHFFFFFFFFFUUUUU--FIDDLESTICKS!" she cried, rubbing her head as tears pricked at her eyes.

This was not a good night!

And she didn't feel nearly so brave alone like this.

Soooo, Comic-Con is fast approaching and I need to really buckle down and finish my cosplay. SO! I'm gonna be slow. |: Between work and this project, I don't have much time, so I gotta pour my free time into this beast. I'll try and post when I can! Like on lunch breaks!

If I pour all my energy into this, I may be able to finish this in a week or two. xD So it hopefully shouldn't be that long of a pause! Rhi was just being a dirty procrastinator.

I'm also gonna try to have "office days" since I owe responses to a lot of questions! I'll aim for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. <3

Again, I won't be gone gone! Just slow. |:

♡

So I'll be in Kansas from tomorrow 'til the 3rd!

But I won't be gone because yay smart phones! I'll just probably be scarce and busy, but who knows! xD

Uhhhh just cross your fingers I don't see any tornadoes or get pelted by baseball sized hail like they're having now. |:

It was a lazy afternoon.

Raxta lay stretched on her belly on a heavy tree limb, one leg and her tail dangling down, her tail swaying in contentment. Beneath her was a running stream where many prey animals came to drink, and that was part of the reason she was up there--aside from just being lazy and relaxing in general! But she was on hunting duty today, and this was a guaranteed way to get the job done with minimal effort. Eventually, something would pass beneath, and when it did, she would get the drop on it.

Quite literally.

For with the thick leaves concealing her, it was hard to spot her from the ground unless one knew exactly where to look. At the moment, she rested in human form, dressed in a simple fur wrap around her hips and a linen band that bound her breasts--but in a flash she could be a leopard, armed to the teeth with jaws strong enough to snap a spine or pierce a skull.

Now it was just a waiting game as she half dozed, her ears flicking idly to ward off buzzing insects. Hopefully she'd at least get to take home something larger than a monkey today!

"Drinks on me tonight, boys!" Faris, cheeks flushed with ale, announced to the busy tavern as she hopped from a chair to the bar counter, waving her mug about and sloshing the foaming drink all over herself and anyone unlucky enough to be below her. "Ya hear that, barkeep? Keep the rounds coming! More rounds for everyone!"

"Faris, get down! You're gonna break your fool neck," one of her fellow guardsmen hissed, tugging at her kilt, but she just pranced away across the counter, hopping around peoples' drinks--and kicking over a fair few (mostly empty, thank goodness) since she wasn't nearly as graceful right now as she thought she was.

"I'll get down when I break my neck, but my neck's not broke yet!" she said with a laugh, and took another swallow of ale--and knocking over another mug of booze. The man cursed a protest, and she just shoved her mug of ale under his nose and pat his head. "Don't worry, didn't ya hear? I got you covered, man! Don't worry! Hey! Barkeep! Bring this fella a drink, you hear--ah!"

She yelped and flailed when that same guardsman grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down from the bar. "Faris, you're drunk."

"Naaaaaw."

"You're totally wasted. You ordered rounds for the entire house."

"Yeah, I know," Faris said, trying to wriggle free.

"You can't afford that!"

"Hey, hey, don't tell me how to live my life!" And Faris ducked out of his arms, pat his cheek, and skipped away to hop back up onto a chair--that swayed precariously as she stood atop it.

"Who's up for some gambling?!" she called, and her friend sank his face into his hand with a loud groan.

That was usually how she tried to pay for things when she got like this.

And it never ended well.

"Fine, fine, you do you," he said with a sigh as he rose to his feet and gave her a wave. "Don't call me when you wind up in an alley in your smallclothes again with stuff drawn all over your face." And with that said, he slipped out into the night. Most of the rest of the tavern was full of her fellow guardsmen, as well. She'd be fine, as she always was. But he didn't like to stick around because the secondhand embarrassment was too strong.

"Hmmm..." Makani frowned as he examined the tooth, swishing it around in a bowl of salt water to dislodge the blood and leftover bits of flesh. He had extracted it from an older woman not long ago, as she had the sore tooth and an impressive amount of swelling, and sadly, it looked like the thing was far too rotten to be of any use.

With a low sigh, he tossed it away into a bush. Oh well. Not every tooth could be a winner, and there was usually some decay involved in any extraction. But sometimes, it wasn't so far advanced as to render it useless. The healthier the bones, the more potent the magic, after all, and decaying bones only lead to a rotten sort of magic.

He would just have to find some healthier sources. It was about time he got off his ass and replenished his stock.

With a tired sigh, he rose to his feet and stepped inside his home to examine the jars and bottles and baskets that lined the walls and tables of his cozy hut, all of them filled to various degrees with bones and teeth, all organized by animal. He kept their claws, too, and some of the bones were carefully labeled when they were particularly special.

He tapped his short nails along one of his shelves. Hm. More rabbit, he definitely needed more of that; Noelani was apparently having difficulty conceiving. More hawk, too, and perhaps some boar tusk.

And so, taking up his spear, Makani headed back outside and strode into the jungle.

Time to collect some bones and meat.

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN! When I offer up lonely characters for threads. 8D

Makani
He's totally new. xD And I'm still figuring him out! But he's in Yoreiq and makes a living as a witch. He can do all manner of things with his craft--create charms for people that do specific effects, heal, you name it! Primal magic is his area of expertise, so blood, bones, and raw emotion are his fuel. I'm still figuring out his personality, but I see him as a friendly guy, if odd and intentionally overly enigmatic/cryptic. xD And I'm up for anything with him! Adventures, romance, intrigue, drama, romance! Whatever! He's got no gender preference, and he's polyamorous.

Zahara
I actually have a thread up for her right here where she's running away on her wedding night. It was an arranged marriage, she panicked, now she's lost in the scummy part of town. 8D So, a character could either help her or take advantage of her, whatever you choose! She's also up for romance! She has no gender preference.

Raxta
A jaguar-shifter that lives in the Kishahn jungle with her Amazonian-esque tribe! 8D The males and females of her kind tend to live separately, save for when it's time to make babies. |: She's a serious sort, and deadpan enough that even when she's trying to be sarcastic it transates badly a lot of the time. Also quite driven. If she decides she likes someone, she's not afraid of deciding they're also "hers" and romancing them with offerings of dead things she killed all by herself. 8D She's down for romance, adventure, and all that good stuff! She has no gender preference.


I also have a thread for Sachi [url=http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=20571.0]RIGHT HERE. I have no plans! Basically, wanna help her or hinder her? Go for it! Just. Y'know. Hopefully she doesn't die. Lmao. xD She's also up for romance! She has no gender preference. Anyway, she's a thief, she collects shiny, useless crap, and basically she's just a silly punk. |: Give her some love.

Siobhan
A Knight of the White Lily! She's a ditzy, airheaded gal, but somehow manages to be competent at her job! She's got some mad multi-tasking skills. I'd love to get her involved in some sorta adventure, and would love to get her some romance, too. <3 She's a lesbian, so ladies only on the romance front! She's good for hunting down mages, being hunted by mages, and maybe becoming friends with mages and learning that hey they're not actually that bad?? Because she currently has a very black and white view of things, as she does what her faith tells her to do and doesn't spend much time questioning it.

Corryn
An exiled noblewoman! Also, a werewolf. Bounces back and forth between feeling very YOLO about things, but also wants to make a difference in the world and redeem herself somehow, and also bounces back and forth between acceptance and being bitterly angry about her lot in life. She's a bit of a mess. 8D Can't turn down helping those in need. She'd be down for helping someone out, or getting hunted by someone that hunts "monsters". Because when she goes werewolf, she is certainly monstrous. Also down for romance! She likes women. 8D

Faris
An Essyrni guardswoman. She's a total law-abiding goody-goody and does things strictly By the Book. She's also quite the meddler and I figured it'd be fun to have her get in over her head with regards to investigating crime. 8D But yes, she's very into justice and law and making Essyrn a better place! She's a strong person, but weak when it comes to booze and has wound up in many embarrassing situations as a result. She's trying to curb that habit, but is having little success. And as everyone else, she's up for adventure and romance! She has no gender preference. <3

Victoria
A Connlaothian noblelady! She's young and fashionable and friendly and is quite the social butterfly! Also she's probably a mage of some sort. >8D I'm still figuring her out, but she's down for friends and romance and all that fun stuff, and she's open for adventures and anything, really!

Noor
An adventurous archaeologist who has more money than she knows what to do with! She's ridiculously filthy rich. |: Wanna go on a questionable Indiana Jones type adventure and probably get accidentally cursed? She's your gal! She's also up for romance--she likes the ladies. <3

Kyran
Kyran is half-incubus, and he's a dweeb! He tries to pass as an elf when people ask, however, because most people ain't cool with demons and mooost people have certain preconceived notions of what an incubus is! And he's not about getting hunted down, because he's a lover, not a fighter! That and it's always awkward when people find out he's part incubus and start accusing him of seducing their sisters or whatever. Especially since he's gay. |: Anyway, he's flirty, dorky, and has a crazy high libido and turns everything into an innuendo, but he's a nice dude! He's just trying to find his place in the world. He's down for adventure and romance and drama and all that good stuff! (And for awkward hilarity, of course.)

Yiroa
The leader of Thanatos! I'd love to get her some threads, get her some friends. She has a lot of Warrior buddies from her days as a Khan, and likely friends in politics, too. Hell, if anyone wants to play any of her husbands or children, hit me up! 8D We could even do flashback threads of their younger days or really, the sky's the limit!

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 carriage 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?

[PM to join! I don't bite. 8D]

---

The mountains were cold that night, chilly from the approaching autumn, enough that Quinn had to break out their long rabbit-fur coat. Despite the cold, though, it was a beautiful night, clear save for a few misty clouds that did nothing to hide the full moon and glittering stars. And way up here, at the mountain's peak, one could see for miles in any direction--though currently the view was rather black.

Bundled up, Quinn had just finished setting up camp for the night and lay stretched out beside their fire, cushioned atop a simple bedroll. Arms folded beneath their head, they stared up at the night sky, watching for shooting stars, something that always helped them relax and drift to sleep. Many people might find the sort of work they did lonely, since it involved a lot of travel, and a lot of solitude, but Quinn enjoyed it; it was a nice, peaceful break from the usual violence of their work.

The calm before the storm.

And Quinn needed that, because they were on the path of something nasty, something that had been coming down from the mountains weekly to feed on unlucky villagers.

With a yawn, Quinn let their eyes drift shut and was just beginning to nod off when a low rustle in the bushes made them jerk upright, at once tense and on guard. They reached for the chain of their scythe and squinted into the dark, frowning. It could just be an animal. More than likely, it was a rabbit or some other harmless thing. But here, at the mountain's peak, Quinn was closer to the demon they hunted, and had seen more and more evidence of its existence--like fresh human bones, bits of meat still attached.

Quinn wrapped their chain around their wrist and took hold of the scythe, drawing up into a crouch. "Someone there?"

Another rustle, this one behind them, and then another, off to the side. Quinn held their breath and tensed, because now they could feel it, feel the strange, vile energy wafting into the area, a horrible aura that felt like being covered in slime--and Quinn knew that if not for the protective wards they wore, they would have gotten sick. And then, the creatures revealed themselves, and Quinn saw their eyes glinting through the darkness around them, eyes like stars, bright and shining like no animal's eyes were.

Quinn adjusted their grip on the scythe and rose to their feet, expression grim. These weren't the beasts they were hunting, but some minor demons.

Minor, but no less dangerous, especially since they attacked as a pack.

"Guess it's too much to ask for a full night's sleep, huh?" Quinn muttered as they twirled their chain. "Well, come on then, fuckers. Let's get this over with so I can enjoy my bed!"

[PM if you wanna join! 8D I don't bite!]

---

You know a hare won't be enough, the voice whispered in Sadb's ear, lover-close, as she pulled the dead rabbit free of the thorny vines that had entangled it, the vines shifting and uncoiling like a living thing by her command. Sadb grit her teeth. The fae didn't have to remind her. It had been months since a person had visited her house of thorns, and she could feel the fae growing restless, dissatisfied with animal tributes and her own meager blood offerings. The thorns were growing thirsty.

"You said animal was enough."

I did, the fae answered, but I've grown bored.

Sadb felt like throwing the rabbit, if there was anything to throw it at--and if it wouldn't damage the pelt. Instead, she just held it by the ears and headed, stiff-backed, outside, the vines parting as she walked to allow her passage as she traveled through the labyrinth of her creation. "Bored, hm?"

Yes. You're boring. You've been very boring lately. Sometimes, it was easy to forget the fae was ancient and dangerous when she took such a petulant tone. You haven't visited any villages in aaages! And no one's come to visit us! Animal just isn't the same. It's not as rich. If you don't snare a human soon, you may soon be snared instead.

And the vines closed in around Sadb then, swinging down to block her passage and pressing in until she could feel the prick of thorns through her clothes. And though Sadb's breath caught, her heart leaping as a chill went through her, she swallowed down her fear and made a point of rolling her eyes. Fae were like animals; they smelled fear.

"Don't be so dramatic. I get it, trust me," she said, and with a flick of her hand the vines receded and she ducked on through the passage and into the bright light of day. "You need to learn a little patience, you know."

I've been patient, and it's been months, the fae pouted. I want human this month. And this month I will get it. And then, just like that, Sadb felt it as the fae receded from her mind and went off to wherever it was she went, leaving her, for a moment at least, in peace.

With a relieved sigh, to have her mind to herself, Sadb went to her fire pit--which was empty--and sat down beside it where she could work on gutting and skinning and cooking the rabbit. Its fur had gotten a little too damaged from the thorns to be worth salvaging, she found, but its meat would still be good. About the one good thing about the fae was she never hungered; her thorns sprouted blossoms, and the sweet smell attracted animals. There was never a shortage of beasts killed in the vines.

And as she worked, she found the rabbit was, like all other creatures killed there, bloodless.

Even though she had grown accustomed to it, it was still as eerie as the first time she'd realized it.

With the animal skinned and gutted, Sadb rose to her feet and walked the short distance to the stream to clean her knife and hands, her fingers growing numb against the cold water.  It was a beautiful day, the wind constant but not so biting, the sun warm, the land rich and green. And yet, here she was. Just another day nursing a bloodthirsty fae.

Just another day both hoping for another person to come on by, and wishing they would stay away.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Makani
Age
27
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Yoreiqi
Height
6'2"
Occupation
Bone witch/blood mage
Residence
Yoreiq

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Makani is tall and brown-skinned with dark brown eyes that are almost black. His hair falls in curly waves around his shoulders, usually pulled back into a tail with a few sections here and there braided back away from his face. His hair is inky black with bright ribbons of pink, blue, and green going through it in thick stripes.

Black tattoos cover his body, mostly his chin, chest, shoulders, thighs, back, and even his hands and feet. They are very intricate and fine, whorls and swirls delicate as filigree. His bottom lip is pierced twice, one on each side.

He has a strong build with defined, tight and toned muscle and little body fat, with some old and new scars on his body, namely on the palms of his hands, but also his thighs and arms--as much of his magic requires blood sacrifice. Also notable about his are his massive wings, bright and colorful like a red macaw.

He tends to wear sarongs and sandals and not much else, generally going bare-chested.

Personality
An odd duck.

But really I'll hammer this down as I play him!

Magic/Abilities
Makani has primal magic, magic that can be channeled through strong emotion such as pain and pleasure. Pain is a fabulous conductor for it, and blood, and bones--the latter of which Makani uses for a variety of things, as different bones have different properties, and Makani has quiiite the extensive collection in his home. Though Makani is a collector of many different types of bones for his craft, he only uses his own blood and pain for his spells, unless consent is given. He's a masochist, not a sadist.

...Though he does get really excited if someone has a bad tooth they need pulled because that's like hitting a gold mine of magic juju.

Relationships
Seven siblings (2 brothers, 4 sisters, 1 maha), parents still living, and has three kids of his own (that he knows of, and at least he thinks they're probably his).

History

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You can do this, Zahara, she told herself as she sat on her new husband's bed, clammy hands folded in her lap and heart beating like a thundering stampede. The place was beautiful, littered with flower petals and sweet with burning incense, and she felt beautiful in her sheer green robes, her curly hair styled into intricate plaits, her eyes lined with kohl and lips painted. She was wearing more jewellery than she ever had in her life, and her ebony skin was dusted with gold powder to give her a healthy, almost ethereal glow.

You can do this. Just bear with it.

It had been three days of festivities leading up to her actual marriage. Three days of feasting, of merriment, of getting prettied up and socializing.

And it was during those three days that she met her husband for the second time.

The first time had been when her parents had offered her to him, a merchant prince named Mazin who already had three wives, and he had accepted the arrangement and the alliance it would give him. A week later, for a good week was needed for her family to make preparations, and the festivities leading up to the ceremony began. She would be married to a man she didn't know, and would be a stranger in a brand new household.

Obviously, Zahara found that terrifying.

The festivities flew by her in a daze, festivities she spent feeling more like a pretty doll than anything. Mazin seemed more interested in drinking than in socializing with her, though from the way he looked at her, he found her attractive at least, but if anything that only increased her anxiety. She hardly tasted the food or wine she drank, hardly spoke, and by the time the day of the ceremony came, she felt sick.

But she gave her consent to the priestess that wed them, fed him the honey and ate it, too, and kissed him when the time came and felt only knots of tension in her belly, not the pleasant butterflies she was supposed to feel. But it was done. She was married. And it was supposed to be a happy day, and everyone else looked so happy for her, but she only felt like crying.

Night fell, and Mazin's female relatives ushered Zahara away from the party, giving her a moment to say goodbye to her family before she was whisked into Mazin's home and to his bedroom, which they had decorated with flower petals and left them wine. They welcomed her to their family, gave her their blessing, and left her red-faced when his mother whispered some womanly advice into her ear. And then they were gone, and she was alone with nothing but her nerves, her ears tuned to the sounds outside the room as she prepared herself for his arrival.

Or tried to.

She closed her eyes and measured her breaths, in and out and in, trying to control her racing heart and hopefully not get sick all over the place. This was a happy day. She was being a Good Daughter and doing the right thing, pleasing her family and encouraging their mutual success and growth. This was her duty, what she was born to. It was a happy day! He was wealthy and supposed to be kind, so she would live comfortably and never want for anything. She would provide him children, tend to the home, and be taken care of.

Breathe, breathe...

She could grow to love him, as many women before her did in their marriages.

Breathe in, breathe out...

Everyone was so proud of her.

Deep breaths...

She couldn't bear to disappoint them, and how many women would kill to be in her position right now? She was foolish to have other dreams.

Oh God, are those footsteps?

She heard them, slow and slightly staggering as they grew louder and closer, and she jolted with a spike of fear that brought her to her feet, tears of panic stinging her eyes. Oh Hakeshna, no, she couldn't do this! She needed air!

And when the door opened, it opened to an empty room with an open window.

---

This was crazy, and Zahara knew it.

But once she'd climbed out that window, ripping the hem of her robe, and fell into a run when her bare feet hit the ground, she knew there was no going back and that she might me making the worst mistake of her life.

But she had to get out of there. She had to just go, and at the moment she couldn't think of the consequences or the future, but only of her need to run, as long and as far as she could.

Her robes tangled around her legs and made it difficult to run, and her jewellery jangled loudly, but the festivities were even louder and would go long into the night, and the music and dancing and laughter covered up the sounds of her fleeing. She kept to the alleys and kept to the dark, hardly knowing where she was going, and she didn't know how long she ran until her legs gave out and her sides felt ready to burst.

But she was no longer anywhere she recognized, and the city streets didn't look so clean as her neighborhood. Rats prowled in the dark, and vagrants snored from dark corners, and in the distance she heard the shouts and curses of a fight.

Panting heavily, Zahara hugged herself and leaned up against the wall of a building, trying to control her pounding heart and shaking legs.

What...what had she done?

And where was she now?

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Zahara Hasan
Age
18
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Essyrni
Height
5'4"
Occupation
Merchant's daughter.
Residence
Essyrn

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Zahara has smooth ebony skin, long, thick, curly black hair that falls down her back in waves, and golden eyes with thick lashes. She has full lips, a heart-shaped face, and thick brows she keeps meticulously shaped. Her ears are pierced once, and she favors dangly earrings, and fingers and arms are adorned with rings and bracelets and armlets to show off her family's wealth, and sometimes she wears a simple headdress when out in public.

She's a slender slip of a thing, and quite short for being Essyrni. She has a boyish build with slim hips and not much of a bust, and she tends to wear brightly dyed robes and slips with colorfully patterned sashes.

Personality
The shy, nervous, sensitive type. Zahara is not particularly bold, and is if anything rather meek and has a difficult time standing up for herself. She is awkward in social situations, always afraid of saying the wrong thing and looking like a fool--which, of course, makes her stumble over her words even more. She has a tendency to be a follower rather than a leader--more because she's afraid of going against the grain and making people mad or disappointed in her. This makes her a notorious procrastinator, because she's afraid of failure.

When she's comfortable with someone, she opens up more, but she still has problems with being a pushover, especially when she reallyreally likes someone and is even more afraid of losing them. But when she's around those people, she becomes more animated and can be hard to shut up once she gets on a roll about some subject she's excited about--which embarrasses the heck out of her when she realizes she's doing it! She's a bright girl, though, with a silly sense of humor once she gets comfortable enough to let it out, though her parents often chided her for being childish.

She has a temper, and tends to cry when mad or frustrated. (Which makes her even more frustrated because no one takes her seriously when that happens!) As such, she tends to be the sort of person that prefers being alone when she's upset because then no one can be a witness to that! She's also the sort of person that tends to reeeally bottle up her upset until it explodes. By the time she'd gotten to the point of tears, she's reeeally upset.

She's got a keen interest in astrology and astronomy, though she has no magical gifts pertaining to either. But she takes that stuff very seriously and is pretty superstitious! Is an avid reader and lover of history, as well, and wants really nothing more than to work with books, as a scribe or a librarian, as she's very educated and wants to do something with that. Unfortunately, her parents think that's for boys, not girls, and that being a librarian or a scribe is beneath her.

Magic/Abilities
Water magic. |: It scares her, so she keeps it veeery much under wraps and has told no one.

Relationships
Her father, his 5 wives (including her mother), and her 14 siblings. They are a very traditional, and very wealthy, family and have been securing more wealth through political marriages (which also gets their kids out of their hair).

History
Born in a very wealthy and very traditional family of merchants! Her father is a merchant prince whose business I haven't yet decided. |:

In any case, Zahara is one of the youngest of her siblings, and one of the last to be married at 18, because her parents poured so much into securing the political marriages of the others, matches designed to pair their children up with powerful families. Now it's her turn, and she's not so happy, because she'd rather pursue other goals than being some sort of bargaining chip.

But there's little she feels she can do about it, too, and she is set to become the fourth and youngest bride of a 30-year-old merchant prince.

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