Northern Winds (OOC) - Open

[Stygian]

...so basically, I was set on making a Furrae-based RP to test my skills as a writer, narrator and general master of plot. Now, I am currently working on a storyline and I think it will have the capacity to fill up with quite a few characters, thought admittedly I do have a few in mind. Anyone who is interested can join though, but there are a few things that one must bear in mind.

   Firstly, if you cannot bear tragedy, bitterness, conflict and the usual horridity and dystopic setting with just some glints of light in between, I suggest you stop reading now. The same goes for those of you that cannot roleplay seriously and with character (and I will be checking on you to see whether you have a history, have no doubt). I personally believe in drama and setting very much, and I will strive to keep it as serious and engaging as possible as I go.



   Now that the boring part is over, here's the general motif:

   Somwhere to the north, evil is stirring. And the worst part of it to rogue bounty-hunter and dark magician Sebastian Don'Chel is that it isn't him. Following a faint trace he arrives at the nortwestern port city of Haszal on the heels of an old 'acquaintance' who appears to know more than she is willing to give up. But what he doesn't know is that not only are 'colleagues' of his on his trail, but there are others who are chasing the same target as he is, and then there are those who are chasing those chasing him, and being chased in turn... In the middle of this mixup, will the heroes actually get so far as to beat the bad guys? Will they even make it out of town? Are there any heroes at all? And what does a little black kitten have to do with all of this?



   And here are the basic rules:

• No godmoding! That includes autohitting, making exceedingly powerful characters and controlling other peoples' or NP characters.
• No silliness! That includes everything from ridiculous actions, ridiculous characters, ridiculous backgrounds... to basically anything that I say is ridiculous. Anything laughable, preposterous or outrageous goes out the door immediately. This of course does not pertain to humor or mixups.
• Write thoughtfully! That means limiting your post length and number, your character actions and your comments. It also means that you will have to have at least some basic writing skills to get in, and that I would very much appreciate it if you actually put those you have to use. Elaboration and specifics is appreciated, but should of course be moderated as well.

   And that I believe will be all.

   Stygian out.

[Boog]

So tempting to join... I have this one character I've been wanting to flesh out, and it should be easy to translate him to a Furrae setting. I'll have it up tomorrow, when I'm less sleepy.

[Cogidubnus]

Might I join?

Name: Cogidubnus Mith'lome
Nickname(s): Cog
Age: 280
Species: Were (Human, Wolf)
Family: Father: Eruantien Mith'lome, and mother Rawiya Lon'an
Place of Origin: Aspira


Appearance:

Height: 6' 2''
Weight: 185lbs
Build: In good shape, but seemingly of a mild constitution.
Eyes: Yellow
Hair: Neck-length locks of a silver color.
Fur Coloration: When he has it, he is of a gray color.
Distinguishing marks: Although not possessed of any scars or other marks, he can often be recognized by his hat and glasses, which he is seldom apart from.
Clothing: He wears a suit of sorts, of solid black, and of seemingly too large a size. The suit is finished with silver buttons and lining, and his glasses are rimmed in silver. He wears comfortable, black shoes, and his jacket is a little too long to be considered a proper jacket, extending just a little past the middle of his thighs.

History:
    Cogidubnus was born approximately 200 years ago in the land of Aspira. His early history is largely unknown – left only in his memory, and to those other who remember. We know the names of his parents, and the area of his birth – we also know that he discovered his own lychanthropy at the age of 15.
   He has had a largely unremarkable history, excepting for his life-long study of the art of the Sword, and some unusual and unfortunate incidents concerning a rogue wizard. This has left him with somewhat a distaste for magic users. Cogidubnus wanders around much as he feels fit to do, settling down to teach some youngsters how to swing a blade when cash is needed, and moving on when he can.

Weapons:
   Cogidubnus's only true weapon is his Katana – a very well-forged item, it has served him for many years. The hilt and scabbard are black, and finished with silver.

Abilities:
   Having had ample time to master the strange energies in his body, Cogidubnus can use the wolf to give himself strength and speed – and his eyes are always sharper than they should be: his senses are very acute. His long study of the martial arts has allowed him to harness the lychanthropic energies in his body in a way they were not meant to be used – and he has learned how to physically manifest the energies in unique ways. His more mundane skill is his incredible ability with his sword. His steel is sharp, and with his quick-draw technique, swift indeed.
   Many of the rumors concerning lychanthropes are merely legend – most specifically, silver does no more harm to a lychanthrope than steel. However, a few of the other legends are true – he once made the mistake to try some wolfsbane tea, and nearly died for his efforts. The full moon legend is only partially true – he has since learned how to control himself during that particular time. And, most certainly, the rumor that lychanthropes are limited to full-human, and full-wolf, are completely untrue. He has a third form, in which he takes on the form of an anthromorphic wolf, of similar proportions to his human self. In this form, he is of a gray coloration.

Strengths:
   One-on-one, Cogidubnus can usually slaughter a single opponent. He is inhumanly quick with his sword, and he has multiple tricks up his sleeve for those whom steel cannot cut. He carries multiple protective charms on him, usually of a light-magic nature, and he can use his internal energies to create bubbles or waves of force – depending on many factors, it can be powerful enough to crush an opponent.

Weaknesses:
   One-on-more than three, however, Cogidubnus tends to get overwhelmed quickly. As well, he has a few of the weaknesses that lychanthropy gives him: wolfsbane is a very effective poison against him. He is weaker when fighting in a full moon, as he is also having to fight the urge to transform, unless he is already in full wolf form: in this case, he has gone mad. He will kill anyone and anything close to him.

Trivia: Cog is possessed of a dry sense of humor, and has been told he has a quick wit, on occasion. He tries mostly to keep his mouth shut, although occasionally his love of poetry escapes, and he'll start quoting some verse or another, sometimes without provocation. Has a distate for magic users.

[Stygian]

For future reference, use this character sheet. If there are certain portions you can't or won't answer, try and give an ambiguous explanation or just put in a question mark.


Name:
Nickname(s):
Age:
Race:
Species:
Family and Association(s):
Place of Origin:

   Physical description

Height:
Weight:
Build:
Eyes:
Hair:
Fur Coloration:
Distinguishing features:

   Biographical and general information

   History:

   Personality:

   Abilities:

   Strengths:

   Weaknesses:

   Trivia:


Oh, and you're most welcome, both Cog and Boogeyman. I know you'll both do fine.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

A little white dragon sneaks in, grabs a registration form and runs back out again.

[Stygian]

A little white dragon sneaks in, grabs a registration form and runs back out again.

Argh!  *swipes out a flyswatter and holds it threateningly, his eyes darting around*

Now, just what is going on here...? 

[Aisha deCabre]

Whoa.  An RP that you are in charge of?  You know I'm in, dude.      *Reaches for a form.* That is if I'm welcome.

I'm sure you know my character already, but, if you still want me to post the info up, I'll edit this one later with it.  I'm stressed with real life at the moment.   

[Stygian]

Post up the info for formality's sake, Aisha. You might find some points that are curious. I know I am going to.

And why'd you ask whether you're welcome? You know you are.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

A paper airplane flies in the window and bumps into Stygian. It is the stolen registration form, now filled out:


Name:  P. Melodie Icewing (and she's not telling what the P stands for)
Nickname(s): Mel
Age:      Just under 150,000
Race:   dragon
Species:   ice with just a bit of lightning
Family and Association(s): Grandmother L.L.; brothers Barron and Rage
Place of Origin: Kanek city (a dragon city in a secret location)

   Physical description

Height:  as a sizeshifter this varies from 22' (6' tall at shoulder when standing on all fours) to 22" Generally seen in 5' anthro form but this can change to fit the occasion.
Weight: varies with size from 1¼ tons to 10 lb
Build: slinky
Eyes: bright blue
Hair: none
Fur Coloration: no fur but pearl colored scales
Distinguishing features: is quite small for a dragon

   Biographical and general information

History: Youngest grandchild of the leader of the Icewing clan, famous/infamous as information brokers, she was raised to work in the family business. She is a gatherer, copying memories out of people's heads, often without them ever knowing. Had as normal a childhood as anyone could living with her grandmother.

Personality: friendly, curious, calm, when flustered she can revert to formal, almost stuffy, manners. Small and sickly as a child she was raised to believe she's fragile and tries to avoid physical confrontations.

Abilities:  Illusionist, ice magic, sizeshifting, touch mind/memory reading, teleportation, lots of elemental magics, and an odd assortment of other spells picked up over the years. Is able to put her illusion magic and memory skills together into traps.

Strengths:  Very quick and strong with the magic she has. Thoughtful fighter, team player.

Weaknesses:  because of her belief that she's small and weak she tends to sabotage herself due to lack of confidence. Has a magical/visual learning disability that forced her to learn to use magic in a very odd way that keeps her from learning some types of magic.

Trivia:  Trying to escape the family business she ran away from home and trained as a jeweler and actually still owns a jewelry store although she seldom has time to visit it. She's quite a good jeweler, specializing in enchanted objects.

[Boog]

This guy's a character I've been writing about for a while, translated to a furrae setting. Rather hoping for some good ideas from this.

Name: Richard "Call be Dick and die" Trochoufski
Nickname(s): Dead Jazz Man, Reggie, Smiles
Age: 27
Race: Undead
Species: Baboon
Family and Association(s): He doesn't keep in touch with his family; Commonly seen hanging out with a mongoose named Marya (best friend), a mythos named Tyrannus (Generic really kind huge guy, ex-adventuror), a being ex-knight (Shania, cat, person recently moved to city from low tech village who the rest of the group has been helping get settled in) and his band (people who he would kill if he was the sort to kill people).
Mayhap a bit more detail would be appreciated with that last mentioned one? The band is made up of two brothers, Ragged and Cold (hyenas) and Dimitri (fae fox), who suckered all the other members into his band with deceptive contracts.
Place of Origin: Northville, a low tech villaige in the middle of nowhere.

   Physical description: Broad shoulders, but skinny with white hair that's been thinning somewhat. Rot devestates a majority of his face, starting at the bottem lip and ending in the middle of the neck. His jawbone is fully visible, as are the remains of his vocal chords. Usually wears a shirt with an upside-down smiley face on it that says "smile or die" and jeans. A few small patches of missing skin on his forehead, his bicep, and his legs and back. Still has spear wound that killed him.

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 160 lbs
Build: Wirey
Eyes: Grey
Hair: White
Fur Coloration: Grey/brown
Distinguishing features: Missing most of the skin on his lower jaw, missing much of his neck.

   Biographical and general information

   History: Richard was a rather normal young man who'd planned on being a musician. He could play just about any instroment he put his hands on, and his voice was even better. Unfortunatly, war happens. A religious one. At age 13 Richard and many others were drafted, given the barest training, and sent out into the field to serve as shock troops or ammunition for particularly nasty spells. One mage managed to expend the energy reserves of his entire platoon, leaving him and his fellows too tired to fend off the onrushing spearmen.
Two years after that, to the day, he got back up. Whether it was a late-working version of the original spell that created undead, or one had taken a bite out of him, or the enemy that slew him was one (he didn't get a good look), Richard was the only member of his platoon to get back up. After a couple of false starts; they hadn't even bothered to remove him from the spear. Heading towards town, he saw that the spell that had killed him and his fellows had won the war, and the mage was giving a speech about what an honor it was, and how the ends justified the means, and how grand it all was...
Memories get a tad hazy at that point. Let's skip ahead.
Richard was walking by the roadside when he managed to hitch a ride with a sympathetic old mongoose; Jakobin Zyrlomi, Marya's grandfather. Skip ahead, skip ahead, Jakobin got Richard back on his feet and Marya became Richard's best friend. She worries that, like many other undead, he'll just stop caring and let himself rot away, so she's made it her personal mission to make him take care of himself. He'll outlive her if it kills her.
However, this wasn't the end of Richard's problems. Undeath had ruined his vocal chords for singing, although he could still play instroments. He was able to make a living playing jazz and blues for a while, until Dimitri found him. Under false pretences, the fae tricked Richard into joining his band. However, as everyone knows, the reason the fae steal bards is because they can make no music of their own; all Dimitri has is a degree in music, all arrogence and no creativity. Thus Richard often finds himself having to play awful songs written by someone with no right to be writing them, and giving that person 60% of the profits, save for the occasional gig he plays at his old hangouts under the name "Dead Jazz Man." Between his job and Marya's twin gigs at the post office and as a bouncer respectively, he goes through a lot of alcohol. Some of it's for embalming, yes, but even more than that.
He's been dragged along with Tyrannus on one or two occasion's when he's come out of retirement from adventuring, and can hold his own with a handfull of ice related spells, undead strength, and on occasion a hatchett.

   Personality: Cynical, sarcastic and often deliberatly unkind. Quick to anger, but slow to act on said anger. Gets along with other undead very well. Fiercely loyal to those he cares about.

   Abilities: A handfull of ice related spells, undead strength and pain immunity.

   Strengths: Not so much strong as doesn't notice fatigue as easily as others, and undeath has slowed neither his feet nor his mind.

   Weaknesses: That bit above where his memories were kind of fuzzy? That's because he went berzerk. When he gets mad, he saves that up and lets it all out at once. Doesn't notice when he's damaged, and thus often needs a reminder to keep himself in good repair. Kind of a defeatist sometimes.

   Trivia: Keeps himself well preserved with ethanol and copious alcohol consumption. Favors wind instroments, such as the piccolo. Sensitive about his raspy voice. Calling him Dick instead of Richard is a good way to get yourself harmed; when a zombie sets his limits, you listen.

[Aisha deCabre]

Post up the info for formality's sake, Aisha. You might find some points that are curious. I know I am going to.

And why'd you ask whether you're welcome? You know you are.

Oh, I just like to make sure.  ^^;  Very well, for formality's sake.

*Fills out the form...*



Name: Aisha deCabre
Nickname(s): Aish, Isha
Age: 23
Race: Being
Species: Panther (black jaguar)
Family and Association(s): Has no living family to speak of, but perhaps a missing brother: Ayan Cabre.  Also likes to keep in touch with her mentor, the Healer Rynkura Msh'Taan.
Place of Origin: A valley called the Shadowed Depths in a remote part of Furrae; born in the village of Soldeluna and educated at the Healer's Monastery on the further side of it.

   Physical description

Height:  5'5''
Weight: 120 lbs
Build: Lean, strong but not too muscular
Eyes: Red
Hair: Black with a couple of dark grey streaks in the fringe
Fur Coloration: Slightly lighter black than the hair, with a barely distinctive spot pattern.
Distinguishing features: Her hair is quite long, reaching down to the middle of her back and is almost always braided.  She wears a crimson hooded cape, and navy blue clothes, with a black belt that has her weapons strapped to it.  There's only one scar on her body, on her back, the only one she wanted to keep.

   Biographical and general information

   History: Aisha was born and lived in her home village with her parents and older brother until she was twelve.  Her mother died of a sudden illness when she was seven, and it is there that she started learning how to fight amidst regular studies.  Her brother went off when she was ten to fight in a war, and never came back.  A couple of years later, her village was attacked by demons, and her father was assassinated.  She fled the burning village and lingered on the border until she met the healer Rynkura, who taught her the finer arts of battle as well as some non-magic healing.  At age eighteen was when she started adventuring and bounty hunting, determined to find these demons and avenge her family, and perhaps even find her lost brother, should he be alive.

   Personality: The first thing one will notice about Aisha is that she's secretive.  When asked her name, the most a stranger will get out of her is her first name, and otherwise refers to herself as "The Risen".  Aisha is mostly a loner, and likes to travel.  Getting to know her, one would also call her stubborn and sometimes quick to anger.  She carries a determined will and a bit of impatience, and if she starts something then she must always finish it; so her fights rarely end in a tie.  However, Aisha is also optimistic and doesn't believe in dwelling on the past.  Among friends, she is protective and sociable, and also carries a sense of humor, though sometimes a grim one.  The only race that she's quite biased against is the Demon race, although she tries to be attentive and think before acting on impulse.

   Abilities: Aisha doesn't use magic herself, but she has a variety of enchanted weapons, mostly light-enchanted.

   Strengths: Aisha is quite fast and stealthy.  Her senses are finely tuned and heightened, so hardly anything, including enemy weaknesses, escapes her notice.  She is also good with a sword, the only close-range weaponry that she has much practice with.

   Weaknesses: Being as stubborn as she is, Aisha could be determined to keep a fight going even past her own limit, sometimes forgetting what her limit is.  Her attitude sometimes gets her into a bit more trouble than she realizes.  If she has no time to think, then she can be short-sighted at times.

   Trivia: Despite being a bit hard-headed, Aisha is also curious by nature and likes to take time to think and solve problems.  She enjoys times of peace just as often as a fight, and will even stop to help others if they are so in need of it.  Her greatest and only fear is being forced to see someone who she cares deeply for die, and not being able to do anything about it.  She also knows as much about healing as she does about combat, but rarely uses the skill.



*Returns the form*  Ow, pencil cramp...    Hope that's good.   

[Gareeku]

Name: Gareeku Manoko
Nickname(s): Gar', Greek, 'Ku
Age: 24
Race: Being/Incubus
Species: white-furred Wolf
Family and Association(s): Father (deceased), Mother, Uncle
Place of Origin: Hunaika; Furrae. Hunaika is seen as a somewhat quiet town; hidden from view by a combination of magic and the dest woodland that surrounds it.

   Physical description
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 185lbs
Build: Athletic
Eyes: blue
Hair: black, spiked up and back save for the bangs which cascade down his forehead in a middle-parting fashion.
Fur Coloration: White, save for the tips of his ears and tail which are black.
Distinguishing features: Has a visible x-shaped scar of his forehead.

   Biographical and general information

   History: Gareeku was born to a Being father and a Succubus mother, and is oddly enough a rather unique creature, in that while he does not possess the wings of a cubi, he does share a few of their traits, such as the lifespan and heightened senses of a cubi. Despite this, Gareeku is still a Being, and so shares their needs for food, drink and sleep.
After leaving SAIA, Gareeku's mother met Gareeku's adventurer father, an arctic wolf Being named Siriso Manoko, and soon fell in love with him, conceiving a child soon after they were married; Gareeku Manoko. Gareeku had a relatively normal upbringing with two loving parents in a small town where various races lived together in harmony, learning martial arts and the art of magic from his father from a young age. However, Gareeku's happy life would soon change. When he was 16, the boy discovered that his father had been brutally murdered by a group of demons who had ambushed Siriso as he ventured out on a quest. Swearing revenge, Gareeku carried on learning the ways of combat while taking care of his grief-stricken mother up until he was 18, when he ventured out on his first quest, learning of a group of demons that were terrorizing various nearby towns
Upon arriving at one of the towns, Gareeku came face to face with the group; the same group that has murdered his father. A long and hard battle commenced, the demon group shocked at how powerful what they considered as the "lowly Being" was. Eventually Gareeku managed to slay the group, though the cuts and bruises scattered all over his body, including his x-shaped scar on his forehead, showed that it was by far no easy victory. The battle would be the first of many in Gareeku's career as an adventurer.
When he was 21, Gareeku returned from a quest to find that his mother had disappeared. Fearing the worst, Gareeku set out to travel the world to look for her. Eventually, he found that she was still alive, much to his relief, and was residing in the Cubi town of Runegrove, Gareeku choosing to continue his adventuring career as he knew she was safe from any attack while she lived there.

Through his many quests and voyages, the wolf has come across various people, both Being and Creature, making a few friends along the way. However, these voyages have also become increasingly difficult, as deep within him, a sinister darkness lurks...

   Personality: The simplest way to describe Gareeku would be to call him a "mixed bag". At times, the wolf may seem cold, gruff, and uncaring. However, there are other times where a more gentle side of Gareeku is seen. Extremely loyal, Gareeku will always stand by those he cares about until his dying breath.

   Abilities: Gareeku is grealy skilled in the use of light magic and what is what soul energy; energy that can be drawn from the user's very soul and used. While very powerful, unsurprisingly it can severely drain the user is it is used too often. The wolf is also skilled in fire and ice magic, although to a lesser extent. As well as this, Gareeku is a master of his weapon of choice; the katana, although he can weild other weaponry too, only not as skillfully.

   Strengths: Normally, Gareeku is calm and level-headed in battle, which enables him to be a more effective and deadly fighter, especially when combined with other strengths such as his katana and magic skills.

   Weaknesses: At times, Gareeku can be too trusting, and this has led him into trouble in the past. Another weakness is that he can also rush into things without using his head, which often happens if he is angry. Also, to an extent, another weakness can be the very people he cares about.

   Trivia: Gareeku dislikes teleportation greatly, preferring to walk. He also holds a great dislike for guns, believing them to be "cheap" weaponry. The wolf has also been known to go quite shy around women at times, particularly those he has not known for very long.


Huzzah.

[Stygian]

Ever so slowly getting there... Though I was hoping to attract some new customers who are more used to serious RP. Perhaps even steal some from you, G?

You can all consider yourselves accepted. Also, you can consider this a general appeal to people to come and join. There are still tickets left!

[masked_bandit_lord]

Name: Andoral Karath
Nickname(s): "And" "Misery"
Age: 273
Race: 'Cubi
Species: Feline
Family and Association(s): Family - Father, Mother (dead)
Associations - Very Few.
Place of Origin: Garroe, a small village in the west. At least it was...

   Physical description

Height: 5'6"
Weight: 115 lbs
Build: Very slight. He doesn't look very strong.
Eyes: Bright red. His pupils are white.
Hair: White
Fur Coloration: Cream colored.
Distinguishing features: His Clan Marking takes up the space on his left cheek (Yes. On his face.) and marks him as a member of Clan Azazat, the heads of his Wing Tentacles are serpentine. His headwings and backwings are white, but are decorated with what look like blood spatters near the bottom edges.

   Biographical and general information

   History: Andoral's childhood was unfortunate. His mother was kind and loving, the problem was with him. Unlike some 'Cubi who were bullied in their childhood by other children. Andoral was the bully in and of himself. His reason for this was mostly because, like most Azazat 'Cubi, he fed on the emotions of despair and anguish.

His habit of psychological torment escalated when he became a teenager and discovered his clan-inherited knack for invading  and altering the dreams of others. Eventually, he became addicted to the act of invading dreams and causing horrible nightmares, leaving his victims with feelings of hopelessness and despair. He became so obsessed that he began giving his mother nightmares every night. Eventually this constant torment caused her to take her own life.

All alone, without a friend in the world, Andoral's luck was about to take a turn from horrible to atrocious. His biological father returned to the villiage, and in a fit of grief fueled anger, killed all the beings and creatures in it but left his son alive.

Shortly following this event, his father realized that his son needed to learn to control his budding powers. Andoral spent a century at SAIA honing his control. However, this did nothing to change his delight for the anguish of others. On the contrary, it amplified it. Though he is no longer addicted to dream invasion, he still does it. Shortly before devouring the victim's soul.

   Personality: Quiet, serious, and brooding. Andoral is plagued by repressed guilt. He isn't mean, nasty, or unkind. Quite the contrary in fact. When he speaks he is polite and cultured, if distant. This changes however, when he begins to "taste" despair and anguish. These emotions cause him to go into a state of minor frenzy where he becomes bent on extracting more of the same emotional responses.

   Abilities: Andoral is an accomplished user of illusory magic. He also has far more control over his dream invading powers than most Cubi, to the point that he can assault a person's dreams over a fair distance, and cause actual physical harm through said dreams. He can also use dark magic and ice magic, but rarely. He prefers to cause mental torment through dreams.

   Strengths: Andoral is not physically strong, but he can tear apart a person's psyche to find their inner demons and use them to cause feelings of despair. He also uses illusions to great effect. He is also highly patient (when not in a "feeding-frenzy") and may observe a person's dreams for days before he uses the knowledge he's gleaned to begin extracting "food".

   Weaknesses: He has a tendency to become highly obsessive when he gets even the slightest taste of his preferred emotional food. He is also physically weak, and has very little experience with the art of fighting.

   Trivia: The only physical foods that he consumes are veal and red wine. Sometimes he'll venture a cup of tea.

[masked_bandit_lord]

So, do we have a projected start date? Just out of curiousity.

[Aisha deCabre]

I don't think there's a sure one yet.  Heh, one musn't rush a GM.   

[Stygian]

Right. I'm also holding some other RPs, and I don't want to juggle more than I can. Right now, I've got quite a lot of plot laid out, so just hold some.

[Sunblink]

Too late to join the party?

Name: Katherine Beatrix Jyraneth (Keaton the Black Jackal)
Nickname(s) : Keaton, KBJ, Keats, Notaek
Age: 519
Race: Succubus
Species: Black-backed Jackal - Canis mesomelas
Family and Association(s): Elizabeth (mother); Salem (father, deceased); Noah (brother, deceased); Lianna, Jasmine (deceased), Sierra (deceased), Esmeralda (deceased; all are sisters)
Place of Origin: Harla'keth – Haven of the Jyraneth; Furrae

   Physical description

Height: 5'2"
Weight: 110 lbs
Build: Athletically muscular
Eyes: Brown (right); Pale brown (left)
Hair: Dirty blonde
Fur Coloration: A very vibrant yellow, tarnished by spiraling, black markings which cover the majority of her body. They vary drastically in pattern and size, ranging from stripes on her face and slash marks over her eyes to splotches on her feet, arms, and back.
Distinguishing features: For a jackal, Keaton's ears are unusually long and her tail abnormally fluffy—both are due to inherited traits from her father, a Fennec Fox. Covering her shoulder is an etched pattern identical to that of her clan marking, which is found on her hip. Beneath it are wavy, curled scars almost reminiscent of military stripes—ironically, they seem to serve the same purpose in determining rank. Her right eyebrow, two parts of both ears, and belly button are pierced. She tends to dress entirely in black (or shades of grey), skimpy outfits. Long legs despite diminutive height. Thick scars over left eye and midsection, which she normally conceals with deep warpaint. Her glasses are unusually crafted with one bifocal lense and the other large, round, and filled with stained glass. Usually she keeps it connected to one of her ears via a ring-shaped piercing and a thin length of chain so to prevent them from falling off.

Biographical and general information

History: Thousands of years ago, the barbaric Jyraneth clan was at its peak as it rampaged the countryside, looting and pillaging, and taking hundreds of hapless Beings as entertainment, meals, or servants. Notoriously violent, and renowned for their secretive, superstitious ways, the Jyraneth went into hiding following the war waged on Cubi-kind, forming an empire surrounded by wards that made it nearly impenetrable, and impossible to locate by those who weren't Jyraneth, or who weren't bestowed with the proper magical guidance. It was called Harla'keth.

Preferring to lurk in the shadows and take their enemies by surprise, the Jyraneth were a crafty lot, nearly undetectable in their methods, but garnering quite the unscrupulous reputation from every corner of the country. Countless times had they been recited in nightmarish tales used to frighten children into submission, or in novels describing their exploits—they were known far and wide, feared by many, but loathed by even more.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on your perspective—the Jyraneth clan's population was dangerously low because of their careless ways during the beginning of the war. Because of their traditional restrictions on breeding—the population was never properly restored.

Katherine Beatrix Jyraneth was born to infamous parents Salem and Elizabeth one May night, the youngest out of five children (not counting herself).

Since the Jyraneth clan preferred to keep all ties to the outside world severed, except for to communicate or exchange information or people, none of the clan members were ever exposed to, or learnt of SAIA. Katherine was no exception, instead being tutored solely by her parents, two Jyraneth Raiders, and widely acclaimed 'heroes' among the clan. The Jyraneth Raiders are those who would go out and harvest souls, obliterate their prey, and bring home prisoners who would become slaves.

Because of her parents' legacy, her family—and those around her—held high expectations of her, stressing her education and pushing her to her limits more than once. In the end, at the personal sacrifice of socializing with children her age, such intense training magnified and honed Keaton's abilities and shaped her into one of the finest Jyraneth Raiders.

Yet, in comparison to those who were specially trained at SAIA, she was still very inexperienced. During the precious, sparse breaks that Katherine was allowed, she awkwardly attempted to mingle with others, but preferred to remain in the company of her family, who she came to consider her greatest treasure and best friends. Among her family members was her brother, Noah, the eldest, and Katherine's role model. He was everything she strived to be—an accomplished Dark magic wielder, a renowned Jyraneth Raider, and a skilled warrior—and Katherine utterly idolized him, spending her time with him whenever she could.

By the time Katherine was in her fifties, the halcyon years of her training had ended, and she became a Jyraneth Raider, as she had dreamed and her family had wished. Katherine found more time to expand her interests beyond her blood and garnered more friends, yet she never could bring herself to separate herself from her family. Achieving success in many of her assignments and claiming fame for both herself and her family, life seemed to be going rather smoothly for Katherine, especially since she got to work alongside her beloved brother.

At least, it was for a time.

One, supposedly uneventful raid ended in disaster when her Raiding pack's arrival was noticed by a lookout group of Adventurers stationed protectively around a village they had targeted. Fearing the worst as the deaths mounted and towns were deserted, the villagers had hired the Adventurers to defend them for such an occasion. Caught off-guard, the Adventurers and the Jyraneth Raiders engaged in heavy combat while the townsfolk fled for safety.

In the zigzagging crossfire of magic and weaponry, it was really no surprise that someone would've fallen. Casualties were experienced on both sides, but it was a single death that triggered the apocalypse.

A child had been struck with a spell as she escaped, astray from her family, and killed.

The Jyraneth only realized this when the final Adventurer had fallen, and had scanned the area for any survivors. Aghast by this accident, and by the ill omen that this had stricken them with, a devastated Keaton and Noah returned home, and reported to the council that governed Harla'keth.

The city was gripped with an uncontrollable fear, something worse than any plague or war. The Council, even the clan leader, was at a complete loss on how to resolve the situation—such an atrocity had been unheard of before. The children had always been spared.

That was the rule. The killing of children was strictly forbidden, above all atrocities that were listed in the laws of the Jyraneth clan. They symbolized purity, the most sacred treasures life could offer, and the murder of one constituted immediate execution.

People knew better than to disobey such laws, thanks to the proudly emblazoned consequences.

Everyone was afraid to leave their homes, to speak or to move, or to even eat. Some predicted the end of the clan. Others claimed they all deserved to die.

Apparently, they weren't the only ones who thought so. One cloudy day, the Jyraneth clan's sworn enemy, the Kamei'sin clan, invaded the valley, somehow able to penetrate the magical wards that protected Harla'keth. They were all taken by surprise—the Jyraneth were barreled head-first in a vicious, horrible war. Katherine was visiting a friend within the city at the time of the attack. Beforehand, Katherine had been troubled by the disappearance of Noah, who had become more reclusive since the accident, where he was originally more outgoing. Then again, she reasoned, it was natural. Most people were locking themselves in their homes.

But that didn't change the growing feeling of dread budding inside of her.

Traversing the city, Katherine questioned every friend of the family and of Noah's of his whereabouts, until the Kamei'sin stormed Harla'keth. In the midst of the chaos, as Katherine rushed through the streets in search of her family, she was greeted with the sight of her father, body twain, laying near their house.

Jasmine and Sierra, two of her sisters, were dead, as well, although Katherine didn't know it at the time. She had no time to mourn, or to search for any remaining friends or family members, because her father's murderer wasn't too far away, unaware of her presence. Blinded by rage, she lashed out at the Kamei'sin, killing him. She kept on pummeling him and pummeling him, even far beyond him death, and was so engrossed in her own rage and despair that she didn't notice his comrades approaching.

They saw her, one knocking her away with a swipe of its wing-tentacle, cleaving Katherine's eye in two. Before Katherine could even realize what was going on, the attack was followed up with another, nearly fatal one, a wing-tentacle skewering her through the chest. She was left to die, her body beside her father's.

When Katherine awoke, she was lying within a stone chamber sealed with iron, barred doors. Upon further inspection her wounds still remained, much to her horror, although they were healed to a certain extent—purposefully just enough to keep her alive. Too exhausted and terrified to think of using any of her spells or abilities to try and break through the door, and completely unarmed (she assumed her weapon, Catastrophe, which was given to her by her mother upon completing her training, had been destroyed along with part of her house), she was left trying to nurse her injuries, a painful reminder of everything that had happened and how real it all was. A short moment later, the door opened to reveal two Kamei'sin Cubi accompanying a Horned Owl with feathered wings.

He introduced himself to Katherine as Kytharion, a noble Angel who was associated with Kamei'sin. He was responsible for employing servants who provided protection to smaller villages that nobody would usually spare a second thought. His motives and methods were far from benign, however: the conditions to this defense would always lead to him being given absurd amounts of money and goods as tribute in exchange for his 'protection'. If the villagers were unable to supply him with the required payment, Kytharion had the authority to not only abandon them, but to order his subordinates to kill or beat anyone who dared defy him. Thanks to this brutal method of controlling those who were beneath him, nobody thought twice about disobeying him. Also because of the faraway location of these villages, bounty hunters and law enforcers usually neglected such 'unimportant' locations.

The Kamei'sin gladly passed soldiers on to Kytharion while he shared the wealth he had amassed with them. He also sacrificed unruly victims to them so that way their souls could be painfully extracted.

Kytharion then coldly informed Katherine that Noah had been the one who had confessed the whereabouts of Harla'keth and provided the magical signature needed to infiltrate the valley to the Kamei'sin. He provided no further explanation.

He went on to say that the only reason Katherine had survived was because he was in need of more people to 'assist' him with his line of work, and the surviving Jyraneth that were imprisoned were facing the same options—or being tormented and executed. It was thanks to his intervention that she was still alive, and because of this she now belonged to him, mentally, spiritually, and physically. During her period of unconsciousness, Kytharion had cursed her, linking her spirit with an artifact he clutched, meaning that he literally held her life in the palm of his hand. Using it, he could torture Katherine without so much as touching her, inflicting severe pain upon her with its connection to her spirit.

Kytharion presented her with an ultimatum: join his forces and become one if his officers or he would let her die from blood loss. Even worse, he could pass her out of his loving custody onto the Kamei'sin guards flanking the only door out of her cell, where she would be slaughtered along with those who had already suffered at their hands.

The last thing Katherine wanted was to die. With a heavy heart, she agreed, and solidified the proclamation of Kytharion's possession of her.

Further emphasizing his new 'ownership' over Katherine was a new sobriquet he christened her with: Notaek. From then on, Katherine, who shall be known through this biography until stated as Notaek, became Kytharion's virtual slave, killing for him and helping him extract tributes in almost mafia-esque tactics from the villages he 'protected'. Unsurprisingly, Notaek wasn't thrilled about being someone's lapdog. Her feelings were further exacerbated by the pain of losing her entire family and clan, and for slaving for someone who was openly associated with their killers. The only memento of her history among the Jyraneth was her mace, which had been successfully retrieved by one of Kytharion's officers.

Kytharion knew this very well, and constantly mocked Notaek for her helpless situation. Kytharion's other subordinates originally treated her with disdain, regarding her like garbage and purposefully insulting her, her clan, and her family whenever they got the chance, but Notaek was able to frighten the majority of her antagonists into leaving her alone.

This didn't stop their obvious disrespect of her, however.

Embittered and disenchanted, Notaek otherwise was forced to acquiesce to every one of Kytharion's orders. While he allowed her to control the abuse of her peers, Kytharion granted her no other freedom, although as time passed and Notaek started to 'adjust' to her new existence as his servant, he bestowed her with some leeway, even paying her for her services. It was still a very meager fee, only enough to purchase the barest necessities. Kytharion even had some of his officers train her, though their sparring sessions were often just an excuse to beat Notaek to a bloody pulp.

Despite this, Notaek was still a slave, and Kytharion took great joy in reminding her this. The straw that broke the camel's back came during the seventieth year of Notaek's indentured servitude. Kytharion finally told Notaek of the fate of Noah, who she had regarded as an unrepentant traitor for the entirety of her time under Kytharion's shadow. It was revealed that Noah hadn't betrayed the Jyraneth by his own free will at all.

Devastated by what he thought would be the harbinger of the apocalypse in the form of the child's death; Noah had fled Harla'keth, spending days away from home. Hopelessly lost, he had then been intercepted by a Kamei'sin once he had accidentally wandered onto their territory, then brutally interrogated and tortured into revealing information about the Jyraneth, since his mind-shield prevented them from retrieving it themselves. Since his morale and his usually zealous confidence in the clan had been lowered, it was easy for them to pry the information they needed from him and later discard him.

Kytharion had never informed Notaek of this, instead preferring to manipulate her hatred and spite towards Noah for his advantage. Continuing, he even went on to say how Notaek's deceased family members had suffered before their brutal deaths. Knowing that Notaek was now inescapably in his grasp, Kytharion had ruthlessly decided to release this information just to drive his favorite slave into despair. Furious that her memories of Noah had been so heartlessly marred, and that they had murdered her brother, Notaek attacked Kytharion and was beaten down—using the link between her body and Kytharion's artifact—a moment later.

It was after Kytharion departed the room that she swore that she would take matters into her own hands and end his life.

It took Notaek five years to properly prepare herself for the inevitable battle, but she succeeded in murdering Kytharion, resulting in the collapse of his carefully-constructed empire of officers, bodyguards, unfairly-obtained wealth, and imprisoned villages. Having never entered a battle with a worthy opponent for hundreds of years, and his own abilities rusty, Kytharion was defeated after a long and painful struggle by his resentful subordinate.

Preying upon the weak and letting his own men do his dirty work for him had been his ironic downfall.

Before he could utilize the object that he used to torment Notaek in situations passed, she destroyed it the moment his guard was down, freeing herself from his control and severing all bonds that held her to him.

Instead of simply allowing Kytharion to waste away, however, Notaek instead sealed his soul within Catastrophe, ensuring that he would suffer until the day she died and the link preserving his being inside of the mace was automatically lacerated.

Realizing that she was now, after so long, free, Notaek officially reversed the letters in her long-despised epithet so that it spelled a new word, forging a new identity for herself. Keaton. With nowhere else to go, Keaton surmised that it would be best for her to search for the remaining members of her family, as Kytharion had never mentioned the fate of her mother and two of her sisters.

Keaton's efforts turned up fruitless.

For many lonely years she persevered, just long enough to obtain information about an Academy that housed Cubi of all clans and families and educated them. While a sanctum of knowledge, it also was a haven for orphaned Cubi... it was the perfect place to find members of her clan. New resolve brewing within her, Keaton, with further research, was able to organize the papers required to enter the Academy, and submitted them. Not long after, she was delivered by Warp-Aci to SAIA.

When Keaton made her intentions clear to the Headmistress, Fa'Lina, the Poodle Cubi implored her to remain within the Academy. Reluctantly, Keaton conceded after a while, although Fa'Lina forced her to solemnly swear to several guidelines: to not instigate any clan-based fights among others, as the Jyraneth clan wasn't exactly revered among Cubi, to keep her 'games' to a minimum, and to ultimately adhere to all school rules.

Unbeknownst to Keaton, SAIA became her new home for the next two hundred years and she began to regard her new friends as somewhat of a surrogate family. For a while, she lived restlessly, starting to yearn for her old life as a Jyraneth, but she absently decided that this new existence could be alright as well.
Unfortunately, it didn't remain that way for forever. Keaton was expelled from SAIA after a rowdy student penetrated her mind-shield and invaded her memories, something which Keaton had religiously kept secret from everyone in the Academy. In response to this violation of her privacy, Keaton proceeded to brutally assault the student, Aeriko, until he not only hovered within an inch of his life, but that he instantly forgot everything that he had learned from his intrusion on Keaton's mind—as well as every recollection of his life from his name to his childhood memories. Discovered by a teacher, Aeriko was shipped to the Emergency Ward, and Keaton was ejected from the school despite Fa'Lina's concerns that a great deal of Keaton's living clansmen were within the Academy.
Unceremoniously banned from the school, a devastated Keaton wandered Furrae, and still does to this day. It is uncertain where fate will take her, but she resumes life as it was before the downfall of the Jyraneth empire: killing and soul-stealing without any ostensible sign of remorse. For a time, it stayed that way, but time and again Keaton has found that circumstances often lead her into outrageous and zany misadventures—ones that have somehow surfaced more evidence of the whereabouts of Keaton's subsisting family members, and brought her into the company of many an unusual character.


   Personality: Through and through, Keaton is a ruthless, destructive Succubus, precariously teetering off of the thin line that separates her from unadulterated heartlessness with every sickening act she commits. While she may be a product of her upbringing and her environment, some have dismissed Keaton to be purely irredeemable, and that may be the case, thanks to her cruel, thoughtless soul-stealing escapades, and even her habits of briefly adopting slaves—only to suck them dry of their being. Sometimes immature, sometimes selfish, despite Keaton's sadistic qualities, she does have her benevolent quirks, as neglected as they frequently are.

Most of all, they shine through when she is in the presence of those she cares about, and in the fact that she would never, under any circumstances, harm a child. She appreciates the company of those who dare to get close enough to be considered a friend, and may even become fiercely loyal to them. Dangerously so and maybe obsessively protective out of an irrational fear that they, too, will be as swiftly erased as her previous loved ones were. Surprisingly, Keaton can forge a boisterous, playful attitude around those she has no problems with, though most of the time she radiates an intimidating, deterrent aura. Being quite capricious, it really depends on her mood at the time or her impression of the person.


Abilities: I'm pretty sure below offers enough information.

Strengths: When it comes to dark-oriented magic and fighting in shadowed enclosures, Keaton is nearly a master. Having spent over five hundred years of her life training and accomplishing virtually countless, improvisational Dark-based magic spells, Keaton has plenty of experience on her shoulders, and has developed a nearly insane amount of flexibility in unarmed combat, augmented by her speed and double-jointed limbs. Capable of using the shadows around her to manipulate for her convenience, Keaton can orchestrate darkness in ways limited only by her imagination, from enveloping herself with them to disappearing within the shadows she controls. Being a Succubus, Keaton is highly prone to metamorphosis, and can twist her body into whatever shape she desires, utilizing a multitude of tentacles in battle. Finally, Keaton can use her mace, Catastrophe, as an aid for harnessing dark magic, wielding it like a baton despite its barbaric nature.

   Weaknesses: Since Keaton's abilities hover towards the darker side of the magical spectrum, it is no surprise that her weaknesses lie in Light-oriented magic, and the presence of it. Keaton's normally innate subterfuge ability can only be used crafting the shadows surrounding her, hence reducing this ability useless if she is placed in an area with an absence of darkness. Further exacerbating her weaknesses is the fact that she has utterly neglected other magical elements, hence allowing her vulnerability to light fester, and that her over-inflated confidence and ego have led to her consistently underestimating her enemies. Keaton isn't very physically durable, at least in comparison to some of her opponents.

  Trivia:
-Keaton's left eye happens to be a fake, magically-augmented replacement, the root of which is linked to her body so it operates like an organic eye. It is colorblind, but she can saturate it with color if she wears her glasses.
   -Keaton's glasses are unusually crafted so the lenses are mismatched, either side containing some form of magical enhancement for her vision. The left lens, consisting of an opalescent, gigantic shape, and outfitted with enchanted, stained glass, allows her normally colorblind eye to see in color. The right lens, which is shaped like a half-moon, gives her nearly perfect visual clarity.
   - Keaton can remove her false eye from her eye socket if she mentally detaches all links to it.
   - Keaton often paints over the rather gruesome scar over her left eye with black tribal ink into whatever design she desires. Since she never is consistent with the shape of the marking, it always looks different.
   - Keaton's tail is abnormally larger than the average canine's, and considerably fluffier. The reason behind this is because of an inherited trait from her father, a fennec fox. It tends to frizz up whenever Keaton is embarrassed or somewhat stunned—creating a rather embarrassing predicament for her.
   - An inherent trait of Keaton's clan is the ability to manipulate darkness and a natural handle on dark magic, to use as weaponry or to camouflage themselves. It is because of this that they were so hard to locate during raids. However, Keaton's normally innate subterfuge ability can only be used crafting the shadows surrounding her, hence reducing this ability useless if she is placed in an area with an absence of darkness. Keaton uses her Morningstar almost like a baton, using it to orchestrate the darkness around her. Similarly, Keaton can also augment her Morningstar's properties and use it in different forms by imbibing it with magic, altering it and enhancing it.
   - The Jyraneth marking on Keaton's shoulder isn't her actual clan marking—it is merely a deeply engraved scar. Her actual clan marking is located on her hip, normally concealed by her clothing. In a similar fashion, the stripes on her right upper arm are also scars, more specifically symbols of rank in the Jyraneth Raiders. These scars, although a blatant display of her clan affiliation, can easily be hidden via metamorphosis, unlike her real marking.
   -Keaton harbors a deep prejudice towards Angels for currently unknown reasons (known if you are aware of her history). Asking why will only succeed in you getting brutally maimed.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Boog]

Congradulations, you managed to find the one event to start the story with that would confuse the hell out of Richard. 

[Stygian]

Congradulations, you managed to find the one event to start the story with that would confuse the hell out of Richard. 

Which is...? You're confusing me here too...

[Boog]

Getting a free drink. The band he's in doesn't exactly have a good reputation, and he's not much in the looks department. Sort of an abnormal situation for him. *Shrugs* Half asleep here; may not make complete sense to you fully concious people.

[Stygian]

Heh. Well, it's basically "one for the bother." Nothing but a courtesy that's customary to see them off... hopefully for them to return as nothing but paying customers.

[lucas marcone]

I want in
name: kennith brown
nicknames: the wall
age:30
race: being raccoon
place of origin: back seat of a sedan
family: virginia;wife, cody;son, pvt. simmins;best friend (decesed)

physical traits
height: 5'9'' or the equivalent in this story
weight: 160 lbs
build: athletic
eyes: brown
hair: black
fur:normal raccon colors
clothes: from head to toe: spikey black hair, a celtic cross necklace, pink floyd "the wall" tee shirt, standard face wrist watch with a black leather band, wedding ring(plain gold band), baggy cargo style blue jeans, and black vans(the shoes).

bio
history: A sergeant in the military he quit, and settled back into his lax life. However needing money he bacame a bounty hunter to his wife's distain.

persona:Kennith can be a hardass when something needs done, but most of the time he's a happy go lucky gun for hire. Death threats are not uncommon for him, and TO him infact.

abilities: He can work a gun, He is physicly fit, He can lead, He is bright wise and insightful.

strengths: He is in good condition, of sound mind, and has a gun.
weaknesses: Being a being he has all their weaknesses but he fears looseing a man in the field moreso than anything else and will forfit his own life to make sure this never happens.

[Somber]

I would also like to join, if you don't mind new people.

Name: Sombrenius, doesn't remember
Nickname(s): Somber
Age: Looks 20ish, is 1600, remembers only the last 2 years
Race: Demon
Species: rabbit
Family and Association(s): No affiliations she can remember
Place of Origin: Doesn't remember

   Physical description
Somber appears as a 4' 8" 98lb female rabbit to most beings, dressed in a slightly ragged dress and cloaked hood of gray and black wool.  Though small her body possesses a definite fitness about it, like a professional gymnast, dancer, or martial artist.  To beings capable of peeking through her shadow illusion, they would discover that her 'cloak' is really two enormous maroon wings that fall to her knees.  They would also see two three inch long maroon horns poking up from her brow and notice her normally black eyes are infact blood red.  She apparently carries no visible weapons... but with diamond hard claws, who needs them?

Height: 4' 8"
Weight: 98 lbs
Build: small, taut, tight
Eyes: Red, appears black
Hair: Maroon
Fur Coloration: white
Distinguishing features:  On her biscep is a brand that appears to be a fae mark

   Biographical and general information

   History:  Somber doesn't remember her past, something that frustrates the bajebus out of her.  Two years ago she woke up in the cellar of an farm house without a clue as to who she was or how she had gotten there.  Over the last two years she has gathered together enough information to know what she is, but can't recall her name, past, or what affected her memory.  As her ignorance leaves her vulnerable to exploitation, she is loathe to ask other demons if they know who she is.  The few other creatures she's inquired with were of little help.  What little research she's found regarding demonic rabbits has helped little because she doesn't know how old she is. Is she Kelliden the Mad, who four centuries ago created a curse that caused everyone in a kingdom to smile till frustration drove them mad?  Maybe she's the infamous Blackheart, who took almost a century to track down and kill every member of a family that insulted her seven hundred years back?  Or could she be the ellusive Sombrenius, who walked on the fringes of history as a kingmaker almost a millenia ago?  Or is she just twenty years old and has nothing to her name?

   Personality:  Quiet and withdrawn.  Somber is an observer, not a leader.  She keeps secrets and has an overwhelming desire to know who she is and to know the secrets of others.  She does have a temper though, especially to those who think her weak, vulnerable, or exploitable.  Though she has a relatively thick skin to insults, she doesn't much care for bullies and crude people.  She has a strong knack with shadow magic, manipulating them to hide things, or manifesting them as physical object.  She also has a much greater affinity for females than for males, and though she doesn't know it, is quite gay.

   Abilities:  Aside from the general abilities commonly possessed by demons, Somber is an umbrimancer, a specialist in shadow magic.  Obfuscation, misdirection, and manipulation are it's strong points... it's not nearly so useful at blasting things apart, and is quite weak in bright right or in opposition to light magic. 

   Strengths:  Physical toughness and speed typical of the demon races, as well as her Umbrimancy.

   Weaknesses:  Her amnesia is her greatest weakness.  She doesn't know who she can trust, who she is, what enemies might be lying in wait with scores to settle. 

   Trivia:  Somber has a unusual attraction to women's bare feet.
Somber also writes poetry... and you can mortify her by reading it aloud.
She can also dance to whatever music is playing and if you're lucking you'll catch her doing it.  The word 'Fae' is also usually enough to stop her in her tracks.

[Stygian]

You seem to have a character going there, So. You're in, so long as you keep in mind that this is going to be a rather serious RP.

[lucas marcone]

Who are you talking to? Somber or I?

[lucas marcone]

does that mean my character is in?

[Tezkat]

Room for one more? I've been writing a backstory novella for my eponymous Incubus, and RPing is often a good way to get the juices flowing...



Name: Teskatl Kh'rono
Nickname(s): Tez, T.K., Fangs, Edge
Age: 167
Race: Incubus
Species: Jaguar
Family and Association(s): Ky (familiar)
Place of Origin: A seaside town far to the south...


   Physical description

Height: 178 cm
Weight: 88 kg (81 kg without wings)
Build: Athletic
Eyes: Sapphire
Hair: Gold
Fur Colouration: Obsidian
Distinguishing Features: Although iridescent blue Angelic feathers cover much of his wings (and headwings), a more Demonic skeletal structure is evident, and the plumage gives way to soft black fur towards the top. His clan marking appears on the right wing; when shapeshifted into a wingless form, it lies across his shoulder blade.


   Biographical and general information

   History: Few know anything about Teskatl's family or his past before entering SAIA. He occasionally mentions a father (believed to be an Angel working behind the scenes to control a small media empire)--albeit not fondly. His original surname remains a mystery, assuming he ever had one. The Kh'rono Clan is small, infamous for their mastery of shadow arts and notorious for meddling in world affairs. None currently reside at SAIA.

Teskatl spent most of the last century at SAIA. Brilliant but lazy, he devoted his scholastic energy to "fun" courses. He also worked as a teaching assistant in Fashion Design classes and tutored other students in Pain and Terror. He was something of a troublemaker--ranging from regular pranks to masterminding a handful of more serious incidents--but he was rarely caught unless he really pushed his luck.

When we last met our hero (in the SAIA RP), he was plotting to unlock the secrets of Dr. Ink's soul-based metamorphosis while the latter was experiencing a nervous breakdown. That's unlikely to have ended well and might explain his current "sabbatical" from school.

   Personality: Teskatl comes off as a vain, easygoing, quixotic, and somewhat shallow prettyboy. He treats life like a game (complete with rules and win conditions, though these may not make sense to anyone else). He detests anything that feels like work, often concocting elaborate schemes to avoid it. On the other hand, he pursues his own machinations with a fervour that borders on obsession.

Although outgoing and personable, he no longer cultivates close relationships. Indeed, he meticulously avoids the kinds of attachments that might interfere with his pursuits, preferring to view others more as tools than companions. Only those who go way back with him have any hope of penetrating his emotional armour.

His favourite food is fear (actually pretty much anything in the fight or flight axis--the more intense, the better). He toys with prey to release the most succulent emotions. He's drawn to dangerous situations and people, as well; the rush of adrenaline feeds back into a delicious high.

   Abilities/Strengths/Weaknesses: Teskatl has excellent control of his natural Cubi abilities, shapeshifting in particular. His wings sprout tendrils of dark shadow similar in composition to his Warp-Aci (an innate clan trait). Only semi-solid, they can physically separate from his body and still be controlled or morphed normally. Using this ability can be dangerous, however, as damage inflicted upon them will hurt him whether they're attached or not--such injuries heal/regenerate normally--and dividing his attention (not to mention his body) across a wide area can leave him vulnerable.

He learned to cast advanced illusion spells as a young child--a true prodigy. Refined over more than a century, that talent has almost evolved into a natural ability: He can alter subjective reality as easily as his own form. His command of other magical disciplines lags far behind by comparison. He has a fair bit of skill in certain narrow fields of interest (conjuring and altering clothing/fabrics, for instance) but hasn't made the effort to develop much practical experience in other areas. Nonetheless, he possesses considerable theoretical knowledge of magic and will often use his mastery of illusion as a crutch to support other spells (such as buffing a relatively weak fireball with phantasmal burning pain).

He likes blades and often uses them as props when disguising his race. With Angel-like speed and agility, he's a capable fighter. However, he relies heavily on natural abilities in combat, lacking the skill to match truly experienced warriors. He prefers to deal with enemies through subtler means than physical confrontation.

   Trivia: Teskatl is still young enough to sleep and dream. He does so regularly--often through class. 

[Lushin]

Got room for anymore? I would be interested in joining.

[Stygian]

No problem. This is getting a bit big, perhaps. And we haven't even gotten Cog covered yet, but I think I can manage... [coughs]

Anyway, Lucas: I was talking to Somber. You're going to have to get just a teensy bit more personal in the bio (seeing as this is an RP you're meant to play with chars you feel for). Thesame goes for you, Daimien. And everybody is reminded to keep their spell-checking up.

As for Tezkat, you seem to have it going.

But mind, people, that I will message you when you can come in. Right now we're a bit too crowded, and about to get a bit exploded upon that...