Uatyr was... confused. This weak, fleshy, timid being radiated power, similar to the death-pain-chaos storms that commonly swept across it's home, albeit more contained. It seemed friendly, however, and the reveal of a different material beneath it's expressive upper exterior apparently conveyed happiness.

Following after her, it trodded through the forest, occasionally punching a hole in the ground, or a plant that was particularly affected by the wind. This was more due to curiosity than malice, it's attention split between the path and everything else.

Uatyr

Rennül Arch

Lorraine Newport

Izano Savant

Sutton Buckler

Rickety Jim

Rickety Jim pulled his hand back when he noticed the way Kahroan eyed the brooch, moving forwards and placing his free hand on the man's shoulder. The three gleaming eyes in his red mask shone brightly, emanating three beams of light that turned into a spotlight on his customer's face. "But listen carefully, and listen well. All power comes with a cost, and it's rarely the one you're willing to pay. The bill comes due in time, my boy. And this is one check you cannot bounce."

A voice unlike anything the merchant had sounded like rumbled from beneath the mask, the spotlight dimming as he returned to normal. "Now then, my boy, now that you've been warned... here you go! Transaction complete, payment has been given, have a wonderful day!" Placing the brooch into his hand, Rickety Jim backed away, dramatically sweeping his cloak in front of himself before hiding inside of an old crate, likely to make it seem like he'd vanished.

Shaking a finger in disapproval, a quiet tutting sound came from underneath the mask. "Ahh, my boy, you underestimate yourself! Sentiment is a powerful thing, in the right hands... hands which aren't mine, I'm afraid. Rickety Jim has no powers of his own, but this little trinket will fetch a pretty penny in the right hands. Or, my boy, the wrong ones."

The brooch danced between Rickety Jim's fingers in a display of surprising dexterity, flipping into the air before vanishing into his palm and down his sleeves. Producing it into his other hand, the red gemstone glimmered in the dim light. "Well now, do we have a deal, yes, a deal between us two, my boy?"

A quiet, high-pitched giggle emanated from beneath the mask in response to the Yoreiqi's words, leaning forwards and pressing his leathery pink hands together. "Ah, interested, are we? Yes, yes we are. Very wise, very wise, I agree. A very smart, very smart man you are."

Rickety Jim reached into his cloak, pulling out a closed hand and holding it out towards Kahroan. Long, nimble fingers uncurled to reveal a flawless red gem inlaid in a golden brooch, stylized in the shape of a curled dragon.

"The power, my friend, of a dragon." Whispering the words in a way that streamed into the customer's ears, the merchant's palm raised up to hover in front of Kahroan's face. "Well, my boy? We have a deal, do we not? Yes, yes we do... and it's all yours, my boy, it is, yes it is. All yours, I say."

What are your favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play?
VIOLENCE! Anything with action or confrontation is really fun! Drama's neat too.

What are your least favorite kinds of plots and relationships to play?
Anything purely wholesome, really. I'm fine with them, when plot requires it, but they're the last on my list.

What are your favorite character types to play?
I'm not sure that I have one, other than cursed or horrific beings.

Are you a planner or a pantser? Do you prefer to pre-plan and stick to a script when posting, or do you prefer to surprise and be surprised?
I prefer to plan things out, but leave the specifics up to how it goes!

How do you feel about group threads?
I'm fine with them.

How often can you reply to any given thread? How long should a partner wait before nudging you for a post?
Honestly, anywhere between an hour and a couple of days.

What is the longest you're willing to wait for a reply to a thread?
I'd say a month is about the longest I can wait before losing interest.

How do you feel about instant messenger RP?
I'm fine with it!

Ho do you feel about post volleying/rapidfire RP?
I might not be able to keep up, but I'm willing to give it a shot.

What's your preferred posting style? Long posts? Short posts? Anything and everything?
Anything at all! Substance is more important than size.

Any RP styles/habits that you love?
Not really!

Any RP styles/habits that you avoid?
Godmodding and making big plot changes without discussing it are big no's for me.


What are you limits regarding powerplay/godmoding?
If it's been discussed beforehand, I'm alright with it.

What are your limits in regards to romantic situations?
I'm down for just about anything romance-wise, as long as, with most things, it's discussed and agreed upon beforehand.

What are your limits with regards to graphic content such as sex, violence, drug use, sexual assault, etc? What is your comfort level?
Go nuts!

What are your limits in regards to pregnancy within plots?
I would prefer to avoid it.

What about healing?
Bit of a broken record here. As long as it's agreed on before you do it, go nuts!

What about characters being transformed against their will? (Think vampires, werewolves, and magical spells.)
Oh hell yeah! As long as, once again, I'm forewarned and am fine with it.

Anything else?
Nope!

Rickety Jim was taken aback at this customer's reaction, baffled by the show of outright hostility! Holding a gnarled hand over the general area a heart would be, he gasped with shock and recoiled. "Give it back!? But why would you want it back? Why, this is nothing more than a trinket, nothing more I say! But, as you're my first customer today, I'm prepared to offer you the deal of a lifetime, yessiree!"

His mask spun upside down and then back upright as he spoke, the three gleaming eyes boring into Kahroan's soul. "Now then, let's take a look, yes, let's see. You seem to be in need of a necklace, my good sir! And I've got a wonderful alternative. Why, this broach would be perfect for one such as yourself! I recently acquired it from a very kind man along the roadside. He wasn't the most talkative of sorts, but Rickety Jim doesn't mind! And, I believe that it will grant you immense power! Weeeeeeeell? What do you say, my friend?"

Rickety Jim was a prolific and excellent merchant, wandering far and wide to offer the best deals possible to his customers! However, due to the fact that most of the people in Serendipity were boring cowards who couldn't deal with a bit of dismemberment and self-mutilation, he needed to disguise himself and set up shop off the beaten path.

Draped in a cloak that hid the gaping hole in his abdomen, the only things visible of the merchant were his odd red mask and pinkish, leathery hands. "Hello there, valuable customer! Welcome to Rickety Jim's Traveling Emporium of Questionable Wares!" A thin, reedy voice split the air of the alleyway as he stood, approaching the man who'd been fortunate enough to cross his path.

Holding a hand out for him to shake, Rickety Jim changed his mind less than a second later and snatched the necklace from around Kahroan's throat, nimble fingers untying it to avoid damaging the merchandise. "Yes, yes, this will do quite nicely! One moment, yes, just one. Rickety Jim will find what you require..."

Mumbling to himself, the merchant's hands vanished as he dug around within his cloak, before eventually withdrawing a small box. "Here we are! This dagger came from a cabal of demonic cultists, and... hm... no, that won't do at all! Far too unwieldy for one such as yourself, certainly, yes. But worry not, oh, no worries at all! For Rickety Jim offers the best deals, and occasional steals! Eeheheee!"

Beginning to cackle, he hid the box up an oversized sleeve and returned to his rummaging, seemingly having entirely forgotten about the man in front of him.

It's movements were highly unnatural, a loud crackling sound coming from it's chitinous, stony exoskeleton as it's limbs snapped back into place.


Uatyr shifted anxiously from side to side, making sure to avoid touching trees. It's stalagmite-like lower arms pulsed slightly before opening, spreading into eight-clawed, webbed claws. Reaching downwards, it grabbed a thick branch and raised it up to it's face, before snapping it and returning the claws to their normal, conical position.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: "Rickety Jim"
Age: Unknown
Gender: Androgynous
Species: Human
Ethnicity: Hyoitean
Height: 5'6" (12' with the stilts.)
Occupation: Purveyor of Questionable Wares
Residence: Wherever The Wind Blows

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:

(Anna Haritonova)

Personality
Rickety Jim is... eccentric, to say the least. A quick-talking, silver-tongued merchant, they're more akin to a used-car salesman than a traditional merchant. Especially due to the fact that just about everything they sell is incredibly dangerous.

Magic/Abilities
Outside of being born with CIPA, (Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis), Rickety Jim is completely normal! They're also cursed with immortality (due to one of their many cursed wares, one that comes with the downside of literally melting their face off), which, combined with a total inability to feel pain, has led to them starving themself and nailing boards to their legs to make themself taller when traversing swampy areas.

Relationships
None.

History
Who knows!?

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads
N/A
Complete Threads
Buyer Beware

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Sutton "Red Claw" Buckler
Age: Raised for 23 years
Gender: Male(?)
Species: Undead
Ethnicity: N/A
Height: 8'3"
Occupation: Quartermaster
Residence: The Jeweled Casket

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:

(Olivier Désirée)

Personality: Sutton's personality is a rough hodgepodge of the ones belonging to the souls and bodies that were combined to make him. With no central mind that he was structured around, the quartermaster is surprisingly stable. Gruff, stern, and highly practical, he despises inefficiency in all forms.

Magic/Abilities: Sutton possesses no magic whatsoever. He is, however, far stronger, more agile, and more durable than the average living creature.

Relationships: Sutton doesn't have much in the way of interpersonal relationships, outside of a strong distaste for Izano's utter disregard for supplies, and mild irritation with Lorraine's indulgence.

History: Sutton does not have a past. He is a mismatched hodgepodge of body parts and souls, created from an entire massacred merchant vessel.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
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The light dimmed as Uatyr's eyes returned to normal, casting a faint, almost imperceptible green light throughout the area. It walked towards her, it's body contorting bonelessly to let it slip through the treeline without touching any of them.


It responded to her question before offering one of it's own, looming over Lanaya.

The creature took a step backwards when she approached, it's tail curling up behind it. The seemingly prehensile appendage uncurled with a loud snap, shearing through a sapling behind it.

It's head cocked to the side when she sent the emotional package back to it, the 90° cone of light narrowing further, until Lanaya was illuminated with brilliant green light, the rest of it's eyes gone completely dark.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Izano "The Anchor" Savant
Age: Raised for 28 years
Gender: Cisgender Female
Species: Undead
Ethnicity: Unknown
Height: 5'5"
Occupation: Pirate Captain
Residence: The Jeweled Casket

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:

(Olivier Désirée)

Personality
Izano is a fiercely loyal, incredible volatile woman. The slightest insult to her ship, her crew, or the Baroness will send her flying into a murderous rage. Other than that, she's a rather reasonable person!

Magic/Abilities
The captain doesn't have any magical abilities of her own, except the inherent strength and durability she was given by Lorraine's modifications upon her reanimation. She's an incredibly skilled leader, and wields an oversized anchor with surprising skill, using momentum and gravity to bludgeon her foes into submission, an early grave, and her crew.

Relationships
Izano is incredibly loyal to Lorraine, and has a love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with Sutton Buckler.

History
The only thing known of Izano's life before her necromantic rebirth is that she was a sailor of some kind, and that she died in a shipwreck. Her dead body was found, amongst others, by Lorraine. She reanimated her, along with most of her crew, and used their decaying bones to rebuild and reinforce the ship. Izano, meanwhile, was infused with the souls of her crew to strengthen her body, and went right back to plundering the high seas, this time with a purpose.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
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1. Organization Name
The Jeweled Casket

2. Objective
To sail the sea around Thanatos, murdering and stealing so that Lorraine may wreak her inevitable revenge upon the entirety of the island and it's people.

3. Who may join?
Anyone, given that they prove their loyalty, and don't have any issues with the undead. Willingness to admit your inferiority to Lorraine, and follow her every command without a second thought is a definite plus.

4. Organization Location
The Jeweled Casket is a pirate ship. It's usually around Thanatos, with the exception of occasional supply runs to buy extravagant luxuries for Lorraine.

5. Current Members and Ranks
Baroness: Lorraine Newport
Captain: Izano Savant
First Mate: TBD
Quartermaster: Will Be Filled
Navigator: TBD
Gunner(s): TBD
Chef: TBD

6. Additional Information
This will be added at some point, probably!

It's rigid, tense posture relaxed slightly from the calming pulse, the creature's hypersensitivity to emotion and psionic energies making it rather easily influenced by what she'd just done.


In addition to the concepts, Lanaya would receive a sort of mental image, consisting of the creature's sense of self.

The creature reacted to her stumble, lunging forwards as the glow from it's eyes grew to near-blinding levels. Stopping at the edge of the tree line, it stalked back and forth, making a notable effort to avoid touching any of the greenery.

Regret-Pain-Discomfort. Unknown-Worry-React. Apology-Shame-Accident.

It attempted to apologize, no longer pacing and taking a few steps back to give her room. 

__________________QUICK STATS
Name: Lorraine "Baroness" Newport
Age: 49
Gender: Cisgender Female
Species: Half Human, Half Unknown
Ethnicity: Thanati
Height: 5'9"
Occupation: Pirate Queen/Necromancer
Residence: The Jeweled Casket

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description:

(Dovahcaine)

Personality: Lorraine is a vicious, spiteful woman with a mean streak a mile wide. Her interests lay in improving her necromantic abilities, accumulating wealth and comfort, and enacting her long-due vengeance. She also has a sadistic side that comes to the forefront when she's defied, and relishes causing suffering to those she deems beneath her. Which is, for the most part, everyone.

Magic/Abilities: The Baroness' physical abilities are rather lacking in matters of skill. However, good genes and easy living have combined to grant her a moderately athletic physique and unblemished skin. Her magical abilities, on the other hand, are excellent, in her opinion. A highly skilled necromancer, Lorraine specializes in the raising and modification of recently deceased bodies, the fresher the better.

Relationships: Lorraine doesn't have any relationships outside of her ship, except a deep hatred for the entire Thanatos government.

History: Born the bastard daughter of a married merchant and his lover, Lorraine was raised in the height of luxury. She had everything she could ever want, but, as is often the case with this kind of childhood, she quickly became a conceited, self-absorbed brat who always craved more. Eventually she pushed too far, and stole something for the sole reason that she wanted to. Instead of publicly shaming herself or taking her own life, the young woman of 19 years fled. She ran, and ran, and ran, and only stopped for long enough to learn magic, make a way to escape her homeland, and build a life for herself by taking the lives and livelihoods of others.

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The creature's head didn't move when she spoke, but as she focused her intent towards it, the lit area surrounding it changed. The greenish lights dimmed for around 270° of the ring, growing in intensity in the 90° focused on Lanaya. It's body all but flowed into a different position, rotating above the legs with a horrific sound of stone scraping against stone.

Uatyr could not hear her words, for it had no ears with which to hear. No way to sense vibrations in the air as creatures of flesh and blood could. For, in it's home, there was no air at all. No verdant pastures, no blue skies, no need to hear, or smell, or eat. Every moment was agony. The raking, scraping thickness in the air shredded against it's carapace, unbearable heat pulsing through it in waves. It had no way to sense most things in it's vicinity, so what it could, was agony.


Taking a few slow steps forwards, it's clawed feet dug into the loam beneath it. Tail lashing behind it in slow motion as if moving underwater, a spike of mental energy slammed into her mind. It was more an intrusion than an assault, an attempt to sense her intentions.

A spindly gray body shook and brushed dirt and ash from it's sharp, angular frame, quietly surveying it's surroundings. The witch would, as she approached, notice that the light cast upon the area from the creature's eyes only reached around thirty feet away, at the furthest, and if she was schooled enough in animal body language, which she likely was, then she'd see the way it twitched slightly at even the smallest shake of wind through leaves.


The being cast out it's emotions like a net, snaring everything nearby and all but forcing it's feelings into their mind. This wasn't a form of telepathy, per se, something far more primal and visceral. Lanaya would experience it's mind like her own, separated by the thinnest veil of distinction, similar to a vivid nightmare that you know isn't real, but your animal mind cannot comprehend it in the moment.

The creature went through a quick internal debate about it's situation and how worried it needed to be, seeming to settle on the decision that it was better to be safe than to be sorry. It's stalagmite-like appendages clicked against it's arms as it started stalking around, clawed feet leaving deep furrows in the dirt as it examined it's surroundings.