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Topics - Viscount Rhi-Rhi

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1
Wanderers and Independents / Frost Novali; magic amplifier
« on: October 16, 2017, 08:28:37 PM »

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Frost Novali
Age
18
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Serenian
Height
5'1"
Occupation
Slave
Residence
Essyrn

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Short white, curly hair with a streak of dusky blue in the bangs. It curls just a little past her chin and covers her ears in messy waves. Her eyes are a bright, pale blue, and her skin is very fair with a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She has full pink lips.

She has a petite build, short and dainty but a little too thin. She prefers to dress in clothes that cover her arms, but as she's currently a slave she has no choice but to wear what she's given. Notable is that her arms and hands are covered in thin scars, some old and healed, some fresh wounds.

Personality
I will figure this out as I play her! But in a nutshell: smol angry lady.

Magic/Abilities
Frost does not have the ability to cast magic herself--but she is herself magical. Her blood is potent, and can be added to alchemical concoctions to more than double its effectiveness and potency. Likewise, her body itself can be used to double the power of a magic-user's magic, as long as a physical connection is maintained (like putting a hand on her shoulder, holding her hand, etc). This is incredibly draining, as it is her own energy being poured into the magic, so it is as though she herself is casting the spell. Thus, if there are consequences for casting a certain spell, she will also manifest those ill side effects instead of the actual caster--but can also take more of a beating than the caster perhaps could.

Magical creatures (including humans who have the gift of magic) tend to be drawn to her, sensing the magic inside her.

Relationships
Parents! Still alive! Her father shares her ability.

History
Frost comes from a family that has a history of her particular "gift". Those in her family that manifested that gift generally went on to do great and exciting things, like join the military or work for alchemists or apprentice themselves to a powerful mage. There was no shortage of opportunities for someone with their ability, and no shortage of people interested in taking them on.

The dark side of it is that there are those out there who would rather take advantage of such a person.

Frost had been working for an alchemist for the last year when she was kidnapped. After all, her ability was no secret, and she was young and vulnerable. She has since been taken to Essyrn, a place far from home where no one would recognize her--and a nation with a booming slave trade and plenty of people willing to pay a lot of money for a curiosity.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads

2
Suna / Death by books. [open!]
« on: October 16, 2017, 02:36:23 PM »
It wasn't the most glamorous, or even the most exciting job, but it at least gave Hayate peace. Peace away from people, who he never failed to be awkward around, even when he was trying to be smooth.

Filing books away and sorting them by author, title, and genre. Boring work to most, but it was mindless and kind of soothing in its own way. And sometimes, he came across a title he didn't recognize that looked rather interesting--that he could set aside for later.

Balancing on a ladder with a cart full of books beneath him, Hayate was dutifully working, whistling to himself without even thinking. It was a quiet afternoon; not many people were visiting the grand library at the moment, probably outside enjoying the sunny, cool, and not-too-humid day. Gross. His colleagues had teased him before for preferring a musty library to fresh air and sunlight, but sunlight just lead to sunburns and he fancied himself more of a night owl, anyway. Besides, daytime was when all the people were about, and there was always someone who wanted him to kiss their child's forehead or mumble some blessing, like it made a difference.

Hmph.

Reaching for a shelf above his head, balancing carefully on the ladder's top step and conscious of the way it swayed dangerously as he shifted his weight, Hayate frowned when he found the shelf impacted. Ugh. Time to shift some books around to make more room, which was going to right annoying! Shaking his head, he started to spine some of the faced out books on a lower shelf so he could shift them over, and as he shoved them over, a cloud of dust rose from the shelf. Right into his face. Of course.

Hayate waved it away, but he'd already inhaled some--and he had little time to prepare, no warning tickle, before a bellowing sneeze made his whole body jerk.

The ladder wobbled, just enough to pitch him off balance, and with a yelp he grabbed at the shelf--and his weight was enough to dislodge it.

Down he went, falling hard, along with a shelf full of books that cascaded over him like a waterfall.

3
Essyrn / Snaaaaaake! [Aeyt!]
« on: October 16, 2017, 12:18:12 PM »
There was a pool in the temple in which Sahar lived, and it was there that she chose to do her scrying. While it was not the only way in which she could use her gift--fire and glass worked just as well--there was something pure, cleansing, and calming about water, and she felt connected to it in a way she didn't with the others. Water was in her veins, after all; it was part her and everything else.

Some days, people visited the temple for answers and guidance, and she put her skills to work to, hopefully, set them back on their rightful path. Sometimes, her mother visited her and warned her of the dangers that came with counsel.

You've got a gift, but don't be too free with it, she'd say. It might catch someone's interest, and not in the way you'd hope.

Sahar pretended to understand and didn't ask what she meant, because it made no difference. She was a servant of Hakeshna and she was given this gift for a reason.

It was early morning and the city was waking, and no one had come to the temple yet. But after a rough night's sleep, Sahar had woken early and gone out to the pool to meditate and reflect. She trailed a hand through the water in a spinning motion, causing whirling ripples and scattering the fish swimming beneath, and peered at the shapes the ripples made. But it was just water, no visions for now.

She had no questions to ask for herself; she knew she was on the right path. Besides, the gift did not work that way.

She was still watching the fish, their easy movements lulling her into a calm, relaxed state that was bordering on drowsy when something fleshy landed with an audible plop on her shoulder.

Sahar went rigid and, slowly, turned her head to look.

And found herself staring into the beady eyes of a snake.

Whatever calm tranquility she had been going for shattered in that moment.

With a blood-curdling scream to wake the dead, Sahar jerked to the side as though trying to get away from it--even though it was on her--and, still screaming, smacked at it to dislodge it--

Right as that jerking motion sent her toppling over and into the fountain with a splash.

4
Yoreiq / COWABUNGA, DUDE! [open!]
« on: October 01, 2017, 12:05:35 PM »
Yawning, Koi stretched out on her board and let her arms dangle over the sides and into the clear water.

It was a rather disappointing day, the sea calm though she'd managed to catch a few good waves--but now she was once again at that boring place in between decent waves, waiting for a good one to come in. But that was okay. The sun felt good on her tattooed back and the rocking of the waves was soothing. It would have been easy to doze off here and now, but she didn't want to wind up miles off shore--or mistaken for a seal by some hungry shark. It didn't happen often enough that she was worried about it, but it could happen!

Paddling lazily with her arms, she glanced up toward the sun, which was high in the sky. She should probably also head home to help with chores, but--oh!

Movement caught her eye and she saw it coming. It wasn't the perfect wave, but it was a decent swell, and with a grin, Koi paddled toward it. About time! With a quick thanks to the ocean spirit, Koi hopped up into a crouch, balancing on the carved wooden board and feeling the water beneath her, and it wasn't long before she was riding the wave.

Unfortunately, it just didn't last long.

Maneuvering skillfully, she attempted one of the new moves she'd been working on, ducking and attempting to go under the crest--and promptly ate it. Her timing was off, she was too close to the shore, and the wave crashed down onto her, knocking her off her board and sucking her under, throwing her into a barrel roll beneath the wave.

It always felt like forever, somersaulting through the water, and for a moment she didn't know up from down. But as soon as the pressure let up, her feet found the ground and she pushed to the surface and came up sputtering and spitting out salt water. Blech! So nasty--ack!

She managed to duck back under the water just in time to avoid getting smacked into my her board, which was a couple seconds behind her. Resurfacing, she made a grab for it, then sighed and waded for the shore.

Hopefully she hadn't had an audience. That had looked so much cooler in her head.

5
The Colosseum / Make it RAIN...blood. |: [Aeyt!] [M]
« on: September 30, 2017, 09:20:07 PM »
Lions.

Why was it always lions.

Yasmin paced as she waited for the portcullis to open, her hands twitchy with nerves and belly tight with anticipation, as it always was before a fight. One of the guards had let on that the match today would be a team sport against lions, so that...wasn't as bad as it could be. Lions were predictable; they were powerful and they were deadly, and one misstep would mean jaws around her throat or a ripped off face--but they weren't cunning or manipulative like people were. They were just frightened and confused and starved and beaten into aggression.

And like her, they had no choice.

She felt terrible having to kill the poor beasts--but she thanked Hakeshna that she wouldn't have to add any tattoos to her fingers today. Better animals than people.

From beyond the heavy door, she could hear the shouts of the crowd and feel the vibrations of their stomping feet, all eager for the bloodbath to come, and she took a deep breath to clear her mind. It was almost time, which meant it was time to get into role. To lose herself and become the Lioness that lived for the sport and smiled through the blood spray. She checked herself over, adjusting the straps of her breast plate, checking the ties of her sandals.

When the door finally opened, she let her breath out and darted out into the arena with a skip in her step and a grin on her lips, scimitar in hand. She waved to the crowd and blew them kisses, turning in a circle to see them all, and saluted them with a flourish of her blade.

Yeah, that's right. Cheer your hearts out, you bloodthirsty jackals, she thought bitterly as she smiled and twirled her sword to show off--and keep her nervous hands busy. Like to see how long you'd cheer without these walls between us. Also, go fuck yourself. Kisses!

And she blew the crowd another kiss.

6
Seaside Town of Cerenis / Stranger in a Strange Land [Aeyt!]
« on: September 19, 2017, 06:36:15 PM »
It had been a long, long journey sailing through the frozen sea of the North, all the way to the port of Cerenis. Niamh had lost track of the days and nights, but could tell they were getting closer to their destination when the freezing cold gave way to a more bearable cool. There were no icecaps where they were going, no seasons of darkness followed by seasons of daylight. Where they were going, she'd been told, day and night both came daily.

Niamh could hardly believe it--but then the daylight hours shortened along their journey until, before long, they shared equal time. It was jarring at first--where were her days of light?--but after a few days, she came to like it. The daytime hours might be shorter, but didn't that also mean this land didn't experience the months of darkness like her home did?

Maybe...maybe she could get used to this.

A number of their people already had.

When they docked at Cerenis, they were welcomed by more of their people, missionaries who had come in the years before. They had even built a small temple there years ago--which they had to rebuild and repair now and again due to vandalism. Not everyone was receptive to their message, it seemed.

That was fine. They were secure in their righteousness. And with time, their numbers would only continue to grow, and their message would continue to spread. If anywhere was a good place to grow roots and spread the word, it was Cerenis. They weren't too out of place among all the other foreign travelers, and people were always coming and going, which meant they could reach more people.

Which was exactly why she was here. To educate. To spread the Living Sun's message.

After a few days of rest, to recover from the long journey (Niamh had quickly discovered that she and ships and long trips did not agree!), it was time to get to work and brave the new wilds of heathen lands. It was...definitely a new experience here. So many strange creatures--so many not even human! Women who bore so much skin. People honoring false gods and showing more interest in material things rather than the gifts all around them, gambling away their money and their souls. It was...startling.

But if she could save at least a few souls, it would be something.

Niamh stepped out of the temple that morning in fresh clothes that didn't smell of fish or salt, white-blond hair gleaming in the dawn. She had ditched her furs in favor of sturdy breeches, boots, and a tunic; it was nice and cool here, but not cool enough that the furs didn't make her sweat. But even in thinner layers, her palms felt clammy with nerves. She was a stranger in this land, and it was strange to her, but...no, she couldn't hesitate. She had been brought here to do the Living Sun's work--had chosen and fought to come here for this purpose!--and so it was time for her to put her faith in action, and pay for her passage with holy service.

And so, nervous though she was, she walked tall and proud and straight-backed. The Light was with her and she had nothing to be ashamed of, and now was the time to prove herself a true believer, faithful through and through. She found a corner on a street that seemed well-worn and well-traveled, right in front of a shop selling curios (plenty of false, foreign idols, from what she could see of the inside), so it seemed like a good place to start.

Clearing her throat, Niamh began to speak.

"Blessed is the Sun, our guide in the darkness, He who shines Light upon the world. Cast yourselves away from the false gods of this world and bask in His glory, for it is He who makes the lands fertile and rich and heed my warning--He will burn the unbelievers to ash and smoke and abandon them to darkness..."

7
Serendipity Riverlands / Dreams of Demons [Open/PM to join!]
« on: September 11, 2017, 11:28:52 AM »
[PM to join! <3]

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.

8
Sirantil Valley / Blood and Roses. [open/PM to join!]
« on: September 11, 2017, 11:25:19 AM »
[PM to join, please! 8D]

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.

9
Lore Submissions / Submission Guidelines
« on: May 18, 2017, 11:33:27 PM »
User-submitted creations are awesome, and they are something SotE has always thrived on! We welcome them and adore them. However, to maintain consistency within the setting, we do have some guidelines that must be followed when submitting your ideas.

Submitted lore becomes canon upon acceptance, but remember, it's not a requirement to submit your species ideas before you play them! This is just so that other players have the option of playing them, too.

HOW TO SUBMIT

  • Fill out the forms as completely as you can! The more information you can provide, the better for everyone looking to roleplay your creation!
  • All submissions will be reviewed. Please check your submissions for spelling and grammar! You may be asked for edits or clarification.
  • Once accepted, the submission becomes site canon! Yay!

GUIDELINES

  • Original races/species only! So for example, we are not accepting submissions on generic werewolves, vampires, faeries, etc. But if you have created a unique type of vampire, faerie, werewolf, etc, then go ahead and submit it!
  • Submissions must not contradict or alter established lore. It should compliment what's already here.
  • Do not create new nations around your races/species. They should be native to canon locations. Feel free to create villages and small cities that your creation hails from, but we are not looking to add new kingdoms, nations, or large metropolis areas.

FORM
Feel free to add to and alter this form as needed! This is just a basic template and is more of a suggestion than anything.

Code: [Select]
[center][b][size=2em]NAME GOES HERE[/size][/b][/center]

[b]1. Racial Description[/b]
What do they look like? Average height? Build? Average hair, eye, and skin color?

[b]2. Society[/b]
What is their society like?

[b]3. Names[/b]
Do they use any particular naming conventions?

[b]4. Gender and Sexuality[/b]
Views on gender, including non-binary genders, and views on sexuality.

[b]5. Diet[/b]
What does their typical diet look like?

[b]6. Views on Magic[/b]
What kind of magic, if any, is common among their kind? How do they feel about magic in general?

[b]7. Style[/b]
How do they dress? Do they practice any form of body modification? What is their aesthetic?

[b]8. Religion[/b]
What do they believe? Who/what are their god(s), if any? Do they believe in an afterlife? Reincarnation? Celebrate any special holidays or have any religious rites?

10
News and Updates / Yoreiq updates! 8D
« on: April 27, 2017, 09:11:24 AM »
BIG OL' YOREIQ UPDATES ROLLIN' OUT, YO.

All of Yoreiq has been updated and expanded upon! AND it now has information about its government, military, and history. Go check it out! 8D

11
General Discussion / RECIPES~!
« on: April 26, 2017, 10:20:20 AM »
Gimme yer recipes. |:

So I dunno about everyone else, but I quite like to cook, even if I'm a total novice at it. And I'm always looking for delicious things to try! So, what're your favorite recipes? 8D GIVE THEM TO ME. And I'll share my faves!

I'm vegan, but I can pretty much veganize anything. And all my recipes will be vegan, but feel free to give 'em your own non-vegan twists. (Though they're delish as is!)

Some current faves of mine:



And my own personal favorite smoothies:

Smoothie #1
Makes about two servings
1 medium or large banana
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups vanilla almond milk
2 medjool dates
1 cup frozen strawberries
I cup frozen peaches
1 cup frozen pineapple

Smoothie #2 (THE BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS, DRINK YO OATMEAL)
1 medium or large banana
1 cup vanilla almond milk
1/2 cup rolled oats, uncooked
2 tbsp ground flax
2 medjool dates
1 tbsp peanut butter
1 handful frozen strawberries
1 handful frozen peaches
Sprinkle some cinnamon in it

BLEND THAT SUCKER UP. ENJOY.

And if you wanna extra fancy with either of them, toss a handful of spinach in there to get your greens. It doesn't change the taste or texture at all. 8D

12
Suna / It's time for another Good Idea/Bad Idea! [Aeyt!]
« on: April 21, 2017, 07:42:57 PM »
This was either the brightest idea she'd ever had, or the dumbest.

Either way, it was already proving lucrative. Her coin purse was already heavier after lightening the purses of several unwary people. These festivals were fantastic for this sort of activity! So many inebriated people, so many distracted people, and so many merchants that were easy to fluster during the chaos. Her quick change scam had already earned her some shiny new coins, and with all of it combined? She'd be able to afford a nice meal for the next few days and maybe even that silk sarong she'd been eying for the last month. Maybe it wasn't practical, but a girl had to treat herself now and then, too.

And then, in a moment of brilliance (or insanity), she'd had a flash of inspiration. An idea that could go either awesomely, or awfully, and perhaps be more sustainable?

Maybe she should enter her name in this whole marriage drawing deal?

It seemed a good idea. The crowd currently gathering looked relatively well off, and she had a chance of marrying someone with money. It was only for a year and a day, anyway. A year and a day of a roof over her head, someone else's food and money, and goddess, if things got weird, she could always just bow out before the year and a day. Who said she would honor the arrangement if it didn't suit her? She could be gone in a flash before anyone ever realized she'd run away.

And maybe, juuuust maybe, if things went really well, she could steal an inheritance.

And so she though, well, hell with it. May as well give it a go! So she'd entered her name, waited to see who the lucky sod was, perked up in interest as her name and another was drawn, and--

Poof!

...There he was.

Right there.

Blinking into existence right before her eyes.

"Gah!" Song yelped, jumping back a step when some guy was just--bam!--there. She bumped the table behind her, and the matchmaker let out a sound of protest and caught a candle before it could topple over. What the...how had...? Song stared up at him--up, because he was tall--and blinked several times to clear her vision, as though it might have been a trick of the light. She had seen magic before, plenty of times, but she had never seen magic that did...that.

"Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't expect..." She shook her head, pressing a hand to her chest as she recovered, and let out a breath. "Well, that. That's a neat trick you did there. Whatever it was."

A pause, and she squinted up at him, and as she did she couldn't help but notice all the other details about him--namely that he was well-dressed and wearing--

...holy shit, were those gemstones?

Huge gemstones!

Instantly, her interest spiked, and she leaned in closer and looked up at him through thick lashes. "How did you do that?"

13
Thanatos / Song Mitai; con-artist
« on: April 21, 2017, 06:36:08 PM »
__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Song Mitai
Age
19
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Thanati
Height
5'1"
Occupation
Con-artist
Residence
Suna, Thanatos

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Song has caramel skin and straight strawberry blond hair that is cut into a wild pixie cut. She has full lips and almond shaped eyes that are a brilliant cornflower blue. She is built slender, with a small bust but larger hips, and is covered in many brilliant tattoos. Her spine is decorated by many of the major constellations that can be seen from Thanatos, accented with stars, which cover up some nasty lash scars on her back. Over her heart is a star-shaped compass, and on her right ankle is a decorative anchor.

Her navel is pierced and usually adorned with dangling jewellery, and she has her left nostril pierced as well as her ears. She often wears a chain that runs from her ear to her nostril.

She tends to dress in flowing skirts and midriff-baring tops, with sandals that lace up her ankles.

Personality
An adventurous risk-taker! Song is playful, cheerful, outgoing, and flirtatious when she knows it'll get her something.

I will flesh this out as I play her. |:

Magic/Abilities
None! That she knows of. |: Rhi will figure this out later.

Relationships
Husband: Ritousaey xD

History
Song has been living on the streets for a good chunk of her life, making a living as a petty thief and con-artist. (Mostly getting a good deal of her coin with quick change scams.) So far, she has yet to be caught.

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14
Suna / So that just happened. [Moonpie!]
« on: April 21, 2017, 04:25:55 PM »
Today was a day of Bad Decisions.

The sort of day where Jirou had gone out to have a good time, lose himself in some wine and song for a while, and just live a goddess-damned normal life for five minutes--and then things had sort of escalated. Because that whole "losing himself and forgetting" thing? It had worked. In a fit of just not caring with a LOT of wine thrown in, he'd found himself writing his name on a scrap of paper and sticking it in a jar faster than he could think, "Maybe I really shouldn't." Because why not?

What was the worst that could happen? He'd never had a chance to participate before. There was always some assignment, because what better time to handle business than when everyone was preoccupied? But not only that, he forgot in the moment, with his liver soaked in booze, that he had also chosen to abstain all those previous years. He wasn't about to drag some poor, unknowing soul into his whirlwind life.

That was Sober Jirou talking.

Not-Sober Jirou, however...

The matchmaker called his name and he perked up with interest, and glanced around when she announced the second name--his would-be wife. Was it too much to hope she was cute? And then he grinned when he caught sight of her. Well then. She was cute. Obviously foreign born and pale for his tastes--someone his family would hate on principal, and for some reason that made her all the more alluring right then--but her hair was an eye-catching blue, like a clear sky with flecks of starlight. And oh, she was tiny. Small enough to toss. Not much to her figure, but he was more of an ass person than a--

...Wow. Maybe he should say hi to the woman first?

He turned toward her then, and when he stopped, the world kept on going for a few seconds after. He blinked, wobbled unsteadily a moment, and then straightened. Whoa. Wow. The booze must be stronger this year.

"Hey," he said, and gave a little wave and a crooked smile. Not a  proper greeting, but formality had flown out the window with intoxication. So had sense. He spoke Thanati, forgetting in the moment to switch to Common for her. "So, looks like we're married, huh? Wanna kiss?"

15
Essyrn / I'm a damsel, I'm in distress... [open!]
« on: April 14, 2017, 03:11:04 PM »
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?

16
Serendipity Riverlands / A trap well-laid. [open!]
« on: April 14, 2017, 02:20:10 PM »
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.

17
Northern Serendipity / Lady of the Lake [Aeyt!]
« on: April 14, 2017, 02:17:41 PM »
It was close to midnight when Adamaris escaped from her room and darted her way across the property, barefoot and silent. It was heavily guarded, of course, but she was familiar with the guards and knew their routes, their schedules. And, dressed all in black on a cloudy night, it was easy enough to get by undetected. She knew it was risky, knew her family would kill her if they found out about her sneaking off in the middle of the night, a young woman all alone--how dangerous was that? But it was something she just had to do.

She was feeling too claustrophobic, finding it hard to breathe, her chest too tight. She needed air. Needed an escape.

And out here, alone with her thoughts, was when she felt the most free. The most herself.

Besides, there was never anyone out in these parts, especially this time of night. Who else but her was crazy enough to go for a late night swim in a cold lake? Adamaris took a quick look around, making sure no one was looking, before she reached into the neckline of her dress and pulled out the key she had tied onto a cord. She had stolen it the day before, and she used it now to unlock the gate and slip outside.

And then she was free, bunching her skirts up in her fists and running across the field, quickly before the guards could come by that area on their patrol or the dogs could pick up her scent. The dogs were the ones that always caught her, whenever she was caught. They hated her, and made her nervous.

The lake wasn't too far away; a ten minute walk, so she was there soon. It was a secluded space shrouded in tall reeds, and she considered it hers. Her private getaway, where no one would bother her. She could spend a few hours here and be back before her family woke.

Walking to the water's edge, the earth squishing under her feet, she shrugged out of her clothes and hung them atop the reeds. Then, with a deep breath, she dove into the lake, and it felt like being reborn, like shedding off many tight layers of confinement that had nothing to do with the clothes she just shed. She came back up and let out a breath, laughing and shaking her hair out of her face, knowing this would look so crazy if anyone witnessed it but not caring because they wouldn't. The water was cold, icy cold, but she hardly felt it. To her, it felt comfortable.

Familiar.

A pang of nostalgia hit her, something like a memory long forgotten, and she tried to grasp onto it but it slipped away as it always did. It must not be that important then, she figured, and closed her eyes as she stretched out to float on her back.

Why did she crave this so much? She knew it wasn't normal. She knew she wasn't normal. But this was harmless, right? She wasn't hurting anyone.

She just...wanted space.

From everything.

18
Serendipity / Adamaris Locke; noblewoman/kelpie
« on: April 14, 2017, 01:10:07 PM »
__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Adamaris Locke
Age
18
Gender
Female
Orientation
Pansexual
Species
Human (but really a kelpie)
Ethnicity
Serenian
Height
5'4"
Occupation
Noblewoman
Residence
Featherfall, Serendipity

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Adamaris is a strange beauty.

She has skin like poured milk, pale enough that her blue veins show through, while her waist length hair is straight and inky black. She has dark, long lashes, but her eyes are strange--pale green irises with white pupils, giving her a somewhat unsettling appearance. Her lips are plump and red, her cheeks aglow with a healthy flush, and all in all she has an almost doll-like appearance. Almost too perfect, ethereal.

She is slender and shapely with round hips and a full bust, with a graceful, almost fragile build. She tends to dress in gowns that accentuate her curves and cling to her shape, with necklines that dip dangerously low. (Though her parents have chided her for it throughout her life, and often gripe at her until she drapes a stylish shawl over herself.)

She has a strange but not unpleasant scent to her if people draw too close, reminiscent of reeds and salt water and earth.

Her true form, however, is that of a sleek black horse with a wild black mane and white eyes. She doesn't know this yet. |:

Personality
Adamaris always was a wild child. She never enjoyed playing by the rules or within the confines of what is socially acceptable. She loves the outdoors, loves to get her hands dirty and wander barefoot through the grass and mud, leaves in her hair, and feels more alive outside than she ever does in court. And she has always been flirtatious--which her family found problematic, since the plan is to arrange a good marriage for her. But she has never played well within the confines of social rules and has always been kind of difficult to control, as she is downright fearless and stubborn.

And she was always intensely curious and full of questions, some very odd. She was especially curious about life and death, and has always had a sort of morbid curiosity about that that her family has always tried to stamp out. For example, she has been known to investigate the remains of hawk kills, and has always especially loved to join her father on hunts.

She can be odd and eccentric, often getting lost in her thoughts and seemingly distracted by nothing, as though she's not fully in this world. And at the same time, she has always been restless, hungering for something she couldn't quite put a finger on. And that restlessness only grows when she looks at pictures of the sea or comes across a lake, and it grows worse over time. Whenever she can get away with it, she has been known to escape outdoors and go for a swim, and it's a struggle to leave once she's in the water. She feels trapped in her life as a noblewoman and craves something...more. Craves freedom.

And sometimes, she craves blood.

That craving frightens her. The way she can sometimes look at a person and wonder how they taste, wonder how they would feel in their death throes. As a child, she drowned a cat out of curiosity just to see what it would be like, much to her parents' horror (though they ultimately wrote it off as a mistake, that she was too young to know better) and it terrifies her that she can become such a monster. That sometimes, when she flirts, it's not because she's really interested in them, but is curious about how vulnerable she could make them--and how easy would it be to kill them? But then she comes back to herself and remembers who she is, and it scares the crap out of her, that she has those thoughts.

And yet, they just happen, beyond her control, like some instinct deep inside her. And she has no idea who she could even talk to about that, because wouldn't they think she was crazy if she told them about the cravings? The dreams of the sea? Or how sometimes, she swears it's not her face she sees reflected in the water, but a black beast with reeds in its hair?

And so she tries to fake it, and tries to be normal, and tries to forget.

Magic/Abilities
She's a kelpie! 8D She can turn into a water horse at will...supposedly. Once she figures out she's a kelpie and learns how to do that. Also has a passive ability to seduce, but is not really aware she does it.

Relationships
Her adoptive parents! 8D

History
Adamaris's parents are not hers by blood. Her father found her when he was out on a hunt; he heard a child crying at the edge of a lake, hidden among the reeds. There was a kelpie in the water, too, and it burst from the lake in a fury to attack him. He grabbed the child, thinking the kelpie had already killed its parents, and fled with it, not realizing he was carrying that kelpie's child.

Ever since then, Adamaris has been raised as their own. She doesn't even realize she's adopted.

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19
Events Plotting / Matchmaker event random pairings sign-ups!
« on: April 13, 2017, 11:07:44 AM »
For This event here. <3

If you would like to sign up to have your character randomly paired up with another character, post here with the names of your characters! 8D

This is not mandatory. If you'd prefer, you can of course feel free to plot and plan and look for threading partners to pair your characters with! But if you want that little element of surprise, post here and I'll enter characters into a random generator that will pair people up! >8D

Important note!!!
If you have any preferences or concerns, let me know! I'll make sure to take those into consideration when I generate pairings.

20
The area was a flurry of activity, filled with the sounds of song and dance and chatter. During this time of the year, the already beautiful city of Suna was even more colorful, the buildings decorated with bright ribbons and jingling bells and so many flowers the air was sweet even though it was filled with the savory smells of cooking food. And there were people everywhere, some lining the street to watch the passing parade, some flirting with their neighbors.

Standing upon a small stage in the city square, Xinyi leaned on her cane as she watched the passing parade. It was a noisy afair with its makeshift floats done out of flowers and its many Maoin dancers and acrobats performing feats that shouldn't be physically possible as musicians played. There were animals, too: performing monkeys dressed in little costumes and running around to solicit spare coins and delight children, exotic birds released from their cages to paint the sky in many colors, and small exotic cats on leashes. It wasn't the first procession that had come by and was far from the last.

But it wasn't the main event. And though lots of people were there for the entertainment and fortunetellers and food and crafts, most were there for the matching-making ceremonies. Which also wasn't the first, nor the last, that Xinyi would perform that evening.

It was going to be a long, long night.

As the parade finally passed and the area cleared, Xinyi cleared her throat and thumped her cane hard on the stage to get the attention of the crowd, which pressed in closer now that the parade had passed. This was what many of the young folks were here for, to try their luck and hopefully catch a catch. Internally, Xinyi rolled her eyes. It wasn't the way things were done back when she was a girl, back in her village. Things were done properly there, with time and consideration and meeting a matchmaker properly. And yet she participated in this affair every year because dammit if she wasn't a great matchmaker, and if today was as lucky as it was supposed to be, Inima would guide her hand in the choosing!

It was her duty to see these silly kids got a good match, unlike some of the other matchmakers in this city. Hmph.

"Everyone, quiet down now!" she said, her voice crackly but carrying even over the noise. "We're about to begin the next choosing ceremony!"

She stepped over to a table behind her, decorated with red flowers in the center that matched the red of her robes, and lit a stick of incense on one side. On the other, she lit a candle. Fire and incense for cleansing and purification. It wasn't as elaborate as a more personal ceremony, but it would do in a pinch.

On another table, there were two large jars. She pointed to them and hid a yawn behind her hand. It was getting late, and she had been up since dawn. She was too old for this crap.

"Please write your name on the parchment provided and place it inside the appropriate jar," she said, motioning to the jars, one for men, one for women. "We will begin the drawing as soon as everyone is finished. Inima bless you all."

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