how does this thing work?

Status
Not open for further replies.

Spectre of the Fade

Nerd
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern, Apocalypse, Action and adventure, Steampunk, Dieselpunk, People with Powers, some historical eras, lots and lots of other things. Feel free to ask.
Spectre's wreck of a Test Thread
WELCOME
Hello! My name is Spectre (Or Sam, if you're feeling familiar) and welcome to my code dump. Now featuring less blindingly white text boxes! I mostly make the bbcodes for shits and giggles, though I've gotten quite good at it over the months and months and months I've been working on doing so. Kind of a calming practice for me, at this point. Feel free to look around, though I make no promises on organization. I'd love credit/notification if you're planning on using something of mine.

If you're looking for my good and/or completed codes, this thread here has that in a far more neat and orderly fashion. c:

A couple of requests:
1.) Don't post, unless you've asked permission or I said to.
2.) Please don't be afraid to ask me to explain things in PMs.

A couple of warnings:
1.) Lots and lots of gifs, images, videos. Especially on the latter pages.
2.) Lots and lots of cursing. I am an unapologetic pottymouth.

Gonna drop some interesting links:
Iwaku Color Guide
Div Shit
Color Picker
Filler Text Generator
Photo Editor 1 - Collage edition
Photo Editor 2 - Filter edition
This post about writing accents
Text replacer!! - literally saves my live on a weekly basis
Room Sketcher
FREE Image background remover
Imgur - my current image storer
Google Font List
Flex boxes? Flex boxes.
Useful Tumblr blog - Clothes and Historical Shit
Useful Tumblr post - big ass list of mythical creatures

FACECLAIMS
I made an alphabetized FC list! Fuck yeah. Fuck, that was a massive pain in my ass. The people are sorted by gender then surname, and the symbols are my own ranking system. More * means I like their face more, and a ☆ means I've used them as an FC in the past or am currently using them as an FC.
also pls tell me if I made a mistake. pls, for realsies.
BOIS
name surname - Image search -

David Agbodji - **
Johan Akan - ***
Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje - **
Dawid Auguscik - ***
Pedro Aurelian - *
Braeden Baade - *
Daniel Bamdad - ☆ ***
Ben Barnes - **
Daniel Bederov - ☆ **
Brandon P. Bell - ***
Matthew Bell - **
Don Benjamin - ☆ ***
Jon Bernthal - ☆ ***
Gijs Blom - *
Tim Borrmann - **
Alex Bouchard - *
Ryan Bowden - **
David Brandt - Gallery Site - **
Matthew Brue - **
Caleb Callahan - **
Mario Casas - *
Cristian Codrin - **
Joe Collier - **
Andrew Cooper - **
Alejandro Corzo - **
Jai Courtney - ☆ **
Ben Dahlhaus - **
Arthur Daniyarov - *
Craig David - *
Casey Deidrick - ***
Andrea Denver - **
Benjamin Eidem - *
Boy Epic - **
Ben Feldman - **
Alexander Ferrario - **
Daniel Feuerriegel - **
Diego Fragoso - **
Dave Franco - **
Adam Gallagher - ☆ **
Dan Garland - ***
Daniel Garofali - **
Anthony Gastelier - ☆ ***
Dean Geyer - *
Baptiste Giabiconi - **
Artjom Gilz - **
David Giuntoli - **
Arthur Gosse - **
Frank Grillo - **
Adam Gurr - *
Quim Gutierrez - *
Armie Hammer - ☆ **
Thorbjorn Harr - ☆ **
Anders Hayward - *
Daniel Henney - **
Alfonso Herrera - **
Aldis Hodge - **
Craig Horner - **
Michiel Huisman - *
Billy Huxley - ☆ ***
Allan Hyde - *
Cheyanne Jackson - **
Stephen James - **
Erko Jun - *
Julien Kang - ***
Harshvardhan Kapoor - ***
Marwan Kenzari - **
Boris Kodjoe - *
Rahul Kohli - **
Francisco Lachowski - ☆ *
Miles Langford - *
Toby Leonard - ☆ **
Leandro Lima - ☆ **
Anton Lisin - *
Franco Lo Presti (? uncertain) - **
Alexander Ludwig - *
Daniel Madison - **
Rami Malek - ☆ **
Sasha Marini - **
Callan Mulvey - ☆ **
Sergio Muniz - *
Hideo Muraoka - ***
Cillian Murphy - **
Antonio Navas - **
Victor Norlander - **
Sean O'Pry - *
Alexis Papas - *
James Quaintance (Jimmy Q) - ☆ ***
Felix Rahmer - **
Matt Raimo - **
Edgar Ramirez - **
Blair Redford - **
Trevante Rhodes - ***
Drew Roy - **
Jesse Rutherford - ***
Benjamin Sadler - **
Adrien Sahores - **
AJ Saudin - ***
Adam Senn - *
Arran Sly - *
Clement Stevenant - *
Johnny Stevens - *
Levi Stocke - ☆ **
Chay Suede - **
Rajiv Surendra - ***
Alexander Uloom - **
Casper Van Dien - **
Bastiaan Van Gaalen - **
Simon Van Meervenne - **
Mateus Verdelho - ☆ **
Adam Von Rothfelder - ☆ ***
Hannes Wengle - ***
Edward Wilding - **
Finn Wittrock - **
GRILS
name surname - Image search -

Amy Acker - **
Clara Alonso - **
Angela Bassett - ☆ **
Valentina Belleza - ☆ ***
Alana Bunte - ☆ **
Amra Cerkezovic - **
Benthe De Vries - **
Alice Francis - **
Ashley Frangipane (Halsey) - **
Noni Gasa - ☆ ***
Beck Holladay - ☆ ***
Ellen Hollman - **
Alyosha Kovalyova - **
Katrina Law - **
Noemie Lenoir - **
Aiyana Lewis - ***
Gugu Mbatha-Raw - ***
Thandie Newton - **
Lupita Nyong'o - ***
Oluchi Onweagba - **
Felicia Porter - ☆ ***
Hilary Rhoda - **
Isabella Rossellini - **
Emily Rudd - **
Scarlett Simoneit - ☆ ***
Antonia Thomas - ***
Antje Traue - ☆ ***
Denise Vasi - ☆ **
Alek Wek - **
Michelle Yeoh - **
Elodie Yung - ☆ ***
Amelia Zadro - **
Ziyi Zhang - **
 
Last edited:
Jovar "High-Reach" Deitsen
[spoili]
HKYBEPV.jpg

"Nothing lasts in the mountains. Nothing lasts anywhere. You Lowlanders and your concepts of permanence are adorable."

Age: 26
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: Avvar
Place of birth: Falcon-Eye Hold
Class: Rogue

Battle Skills:
Double Daggers (Intermediate) Archery (Advanced) Sabotage (Basic) Subterfuge (Intermediate)
Specialization: Spirit Archer - Much like the Spirit Warrior, Jovar offers gifts to the friendlier spirits that inhabit the Fade and has his abilities augmented beyond what should be possible for a non-mage because of it. He can imbue his arrows and his daggers with either ice or spirit effects and harness energies of the Fade to temporarily increase his stealth abilities.
Skills:
Coercion Hunting/Tracking Herbalism Combat Tactics Rock climbing
Weapon of choice: Longbow
Common wear: An assorted set of furs at best, and alarmingly little at worst. Best of luck convincing him to cover up, however.
Armor: Avvar War paint, in white and green

Height: 6'7"
Weight: 229 lbs
Hair: Dark brown and kept cut short enough to stay out of his eyes, often messy as he doesn't bother styling it
Eyes: Dark blue
Other Appearance-related items: Built tall and skinny, all long limbs and a rangy frame that makes it easy to underestimate his strength Tattoos in the patterns of his people inked across his shoulders, chest, and upper arms, all in a dark shade of green

Personality:
First impressions of Jovar are...diverse, to say the least. The positive ones are more frequent and tend to be quite positive, the general impression being that he's an honest individual who's good at keeping up a conversation and easy to talk to, respectful with his questions but undeniably curious about everything and anything relating to cultures not his own. The negative ones are more rare but tend to be extremely negative, as he tends to get on the Chantry's bad side far too easily and answers badly-phrased questions about himself or his people with sarcasm, witty responses, or absurd lies, all too willing to argue his points or defend something he agrees with. The truth is somewhere in between. He's charismatic and enjoys the company of people, but he puts a high value on solitude and isolation. He's open and blunt with his thoughts and his interests in others (friendly or flirtatious) and yet a good liar whose true emotions are difficult to gauge. He's an endless reservoir of questions about other people and other cultures, combined with a good sense of when and how to ask these questions and a surprisingly objective outlook on the answers he receives. However, asking him such questions in return gets an assortment of responses, no small number of them being hypocritical. He's awkward about sharing information about himself (unless it's a good story worth sharing) and hesitant about sharing information about his people due to how badly its been received in the past.
Keywords:
Clever Inquisitive Determined Likable Moody Skeptical Reserved Vulgar

Biography:
Born in a settlement called Falcon-Eye Hold, Jovar is a member of the proud, nomadic, and mysterious Avvar peoples. Wresting honest details of his early life or his people from Jovar himself is a monumental task, especially for Chantry folk, but it's possible. Barely.

Falcon-Eye Hold is located in a small river valley far to the south of Haven. The valley is a pretty one, thriving with life and necessities for survival, but the tough, craggy peaks of the Frostback Mountains that surround it are steep and unforgiving. The lack of space for proper buildings forced the tribe Jovar hails from to build their homes and walking paths in unconventional ways, with the mountains instead of despite them, utilizing bridges made of wood and the rock faces themselves to get around. Rock climbing was as much of a necessity for Jovar to learn growing up as stair climbing is for the average lowlander child. His father taught him to hunt at a young age, and he grew into a fine archer and an excellent tracker, taking to the steep cliff faces of his hold as well as a fish takes to water. His legend mark, High-Reach, was earned when he scaled one of the valley's tallest peaks at only thirteen years of age...then was unable to climb down again. Despite the embarrassing nature of the legend mark, Jovar bore it with pride and lived as well as any Avvar could. He honored the spirit gods he people revered as well as any other, though he was particularly dedicated to the Lady of the Skies. He hunted and he tracked and provided for the hold and proved his aim and skills with a blade. He even married, though only for two years.

None of it felt quite right, however. There was a restlessness in Jovar's bones, something that was discontent with this simple life.

His chance to leave the valley of his birth was finally granted when Sky Watcher joined the Inquisition; the news even reached as far as Falcon-Eye Hold and Jovar saw it as an opportunity to explore the Lowlands he's heard so much of but never seen. With his bow on his back and a few members of his clan at his side, Jovar set out to find Skyhold and the Inquisition and joined it as an agent. He's been proving himself an asset ever since, a fine archer and even better scout who's good with the people he works alongside and endlessly fascinated by the new places he's taken to. That said, the issues the Chantry and the Templars have with his abilities (and the issues he has with the Chantry and the Templars and their dealings with magic) are becoming more problematic with the threat of the Breach dealt with.
[/spoili]
 
Last edited:
Knight-Lieutenant Laisa Sahren
[spoili]
29e599d9c20a9f9a052c93e21ac9f426--pillars-of-eternity-high-elf.jpg

"Difficult to say how much I gave up or passed over to be here. Difficult to say if it was worth it."

Age: 31
Sex: Female
Race: City Elf
Nationality: Marcher
Place of birth: Kirkwall
Class: Warrior

Battle Skills:
Weapon and Shield (Basic) Two-Handed (Advanced) Battlemaster (Advanced) Vanguard (Intermediate)
Specialization: Templar - Years of training and lyrium usage have honed Laisa into a fine warrior and templar, specializing in fighting demons and mages. Her abilities center around disrupting magic, removing effects, and bolstering allies. It's unknown how deeply the lyrium withdrawal affects her or her combat abilities, though she makes no complaints about it.
Weapon of choice: Greatsword
Common wear: A simple gambeson and breeches, usually with a longsword or knife stuck in her belt for defense
Armor: Templar armor, battle scarred but well-kept

Height: 5'3"
Weight: 136 lbs
Hair: Long and fiercely red, curly texture, always pulled out of her eyes and away from her face
Eyes: Bright green
Other Appearance-related items: Burn scars on the backs of her hands A short but deep scar near her right armpit A series of scars from claws on her chest, from her left shoulder down past her clavicle Other scars from other battles, but the rest are minor

Personality:
Intimidating is easily the best word to describe Laisa, despite her small stature. It isn't merely her ferociousness in battle - though her fiery nature and her strength of will do combine with marvelous results when she draws her greatsword - and it isn't merely her fine armor with its Templar insignia on the chestplate. She's an intimidating individual. There's earned confidence and steel will written into her taut body language, a warrior's perceptiveness in her pretty eyes, a strength to her bearing that speaks to exactly how much work it took to get her as far as she's come. She's got a glare that can melt ice in the dead of winter and has a fearsome temper to match. She's a capable leader, strict but good at pushing her people to perform to the best of their abilities, though she's got an awful habit of operating off instinct and gut reaction rather than proper planning. In social situations, she tends to be quiet and speak when spoken to or when she has something to say, more out of an unwillingness to waste words than any kind of awkwardness. She's also a forthright individual down to her very bones; her expressions are easy to read, her motives tend to be simple, and she's thorough and direct but polite when answering questions.
Keywords:
Assertive Resolute Playful Well-mannered Irritable Daredevil Taciturn Authoritarian

Biography:
Questions about her past tend to be received with pursed lips and an irritated expression, but Laisa will still answer most questions from most any source. She can't very well hide her ears, after all, and given how rare elves are amongst the Templars, she lacks the luxury of hiding her history. No matter how much she may wish to.

Laisa was born and raised in Kirkwall, a city elf raised in the the city-state's notorious Alienage. Between the crime, the racism, and the confining gate that shut the lot in at night, it was far from a pleasant place to grow up. Her family was a large one, as Laisa was the younger of two girls amongst four brothers, but they were as close as they could be when she was little and drifted apart over time. She was little enough to pass as a boy from a young age so she grew up as her brothers did; she wrestled with the other kids of the alienage and sparred with sticks and picked pockets and got into all manner of trouble, with the guards as much as with her parents. At age seven, she watched one of her brothers use magic for the first time. At age eight, she watched that same brother wake up screaming and sat in shock while a demon of despair took over his body, then she watched the abomination tear through four people before a group of templars brought it down. At age eleven, another mage was forcibly dragged from the alienage, this one before she could become possessed or do any real damage besides singeing someone's hair.

It was a week after that Laisa decided she would become a templar.

A simple goal, but deceptively hard to obtain for a poor elf girl born and raised in the alienage. What few family members she told of her plan called her a traitor to their family for even considering it - given her brother's magic - and pushed her away. The Order itself hadn't forgotten her mage-blood brother, either, or the mess he caused as an abomination. That isn't to mention her sister dying of a wasting disease when she was fifteen, or her father dying of the same thing less than six months later. That isn't to mention her complete lack of martial training, either, which put her at a hefty disadvantage against some of the other recruits. None of it was enough to deter her, however. She was finally allowed to train with the Order as a recruit at the age of nineteen, the Templar who allowed her in too impressed with her faith and her fire and her determination to shut her out simply because of her ear shape. But the struggle didn't stop there. Earning the title of Knight and earning rank past that was the same fight to prove herself and her abilities and her faith and her commitment to the Chantry. Others in her situation would have quit. Some might even have died. Laisa? She thrived under that kind of challenge, using it to prove her strength to herself as much as to her superiors.

The title of Knight-Corporal was only handed to her after the events in Kirkwall that kicked off the mage rebellion; she was there in person, fought the abominations and the rogue mages then bore witness to the battle that ended with Meredith's death. The fact that she didn't abandon the Chantry after it all went to the Void perhaps helped a bit. Then came the Temple of Sacred Ashes, peace talks ending in an explosion that turned the world upside down once again, just like the events at Kirkwall years prior. She had been outside Haven when the explosion happened, nowhere near important enough to be near the temple itself, and she was amongst the troops gathered to fight the demons pouring out of the rifts torn in the Veil. The Commander offered her a promotion and a position with the Inquisition after she recovered from her injuries. The Inquisition has been her home since, and she's as loyal to it as she was to the Chantry.
[/spoili]
 
Last edited:
  • Like
Reactions: espoir
NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE

ℐovar High-Reach ℂalista De Leon

"... Is your reach always aimed this high, jovar?"


"I found him..." She mumbled to Aslog, her spirit caregiver who stood beside her, bound to a red lion, she stood tall, and quite fierce. "I don't think you should continue to pester this dwarf... he will get smart one day...' Aslog said, but Calista waved it off. "Nah... He still hasn't learned. Look, chests haven't been locked and he's down for a nap..." She said, moving to get onto the snow-covered road. Her footsteps were light, but regardless, they still made a heavy crunch with each step. The dwarf drank so badly she was sure he could piss and have himself another free pint of ale. But his drinking habits only made it easier for Calista to move over to the locked chest, crouching not 3 feet away from the snoozing dwarf as she opened the chest slowly, looking inside to see quite a few beautiful gems. No doubt they were worth a few good coins, at least. And Calista was in need of a new cloak. She looked at them for a few moments before picking the one she found more pleasing, and it happened to be a rather large, perfectly polished Emerald with flecks of lyrium inside giving it a light blue glow. She closed the chest and heard the dwarf stir beside her, grumbling to himself as his eyes fluttered open and landed on her. Calista grinned and tucked the stone into her pouch and stood. She stood for a moment looking at him, as he seemed to stare at her, still sleep dazed, before he realized who she was.

"Not again... You sodding mountain...." He growled as he struggled to get up, gripping his axe he shook it at her. Calista laughed, slowly backing away. "Nice to see you again as well, Aghrim... I'd love to stay and exchange insults, but... Places to go, you know." She said, before the dwarf came at her with his axe, and Calista took off running, skidding down a small bit of the mountain side with the short dwarf coming right behind her. He, however, fancied rolling instead of running. But no matter, his short legs were eager to catch the woman who held one of his more valuable gems.

"You nug humping, thieving little bastard you!" He called from behind her as they continued down the steep slopes, Calista laughing while ahead of her, Aslog was consistently shaking her head.
"Come on now, Aghrim, that's no way to talk to a loyal customer! I thought you'd have caught me by now, I'm doing this just for you!" She said, as she crouched down and skidded down another, longer slope that made her dwarven victim stop in his tracks. She looked back at him, grinning as she continued her descent. She leapt down a small, 5 foot drop and gasped as she saw herself barreling towards a rather tall male figure in front of her. She collided with the person, knocking the air from her lungs as they fell onto the mountain ground. She caught her breath,groaning as she heard the dwarf behind her. "Stop her! Stop that thieving little shit!" He said, carefully trying to step down the slope.

Meanwhile, Calista took a deep breath, looking down at the male beneath her and giving him a big grin. "I'm sorry about that big guy..." She said, giving his chest a pat as she got off the poor male. "Unless you're actually going to help him, I'd say you should run as well." She said, biting her bottom lip lightly before looking back to watch the dwarf stumbled again, skidding on his backside down the hill, again barreling towards them.

The male scrambled to his feet in short order, shocked that he was - for once - involved in trouble that wasn't of his own making. Blue eyes gawked at the dwarf shouting angrily and climbing down toward them for a few moments then flipped to the woman who'd quite abruptly landed on him. To say that Jovar was surprised by these sudden events was an incredible understatement. He'd just been reading, he'd swear. Didn't matter now, though, adventure was bound and determined to find him. "Swina bqllr," he told her in the blunt language of his people, tone like he was making an ordinary observation instead of cursing, before pulling the straps of his pack up his bare shoulders. "Good idea," he added before he took off down the slope, long legs and sure feet making the descent every bit as quick as it made the Avvar look more like a awkwardly proportioned mountain goat than an actual human being.

Calista heard him curse and arched an eyebrow at him. She didn't know much of outside people, but she traveled the Fade enough to come across that one. However, she didn't dwell on it long as she also took off, this time going full speed. For one who was significantly shorter than the giant male, her legs and feet were quick and precise, able to navigate the terrain so surely, it was almost as if she were one of the many animals that were native to the Frostbacks. Eventually, she heard the dwarf's words grow fainter and fainter. As much as she loved messing with the short male, she didn't want him to know where she lived. After the voice was nonexistent, she stopped running and left herself fall into the snow and laughed so hard she was near tears. "Ohhh... Worth it every time, I swear..." She breathed before sitting up. She loved the snow, fluffy, white soft. And the cold was nothing but a small bite on the wind to her on most days.

Jovar skidded to a stop after his new companion did, letting out a few panting breaths with a positively roguish grin on his face and one hand resting on his hip. In the other hand was clenched a crumpled piece of paper a raven had dropped off only a few minutes before he'd been knocked off his feet in a very literal sense by this stranger. He let out a chuckle as he eyed the snowbank she'd plopped herself into, and barely gave it a moment's thought before dropping his pack - bow, quiver, furs, food, basic supplies, and bedroll all wrapped up neatly - on the ground and falling into the snow beside her. Was that a wise decision, given he was wearing nothing but his boots and his leggings? No. Did he care in the least? No. "That was certainly something," Jovar commented after a moment, his eyes moving from a falcon circling around the peaks high above them to the woman in the snow beside him. He looked her over with an openly curious expression, but he'd wait to ask. Rude to just demand a person's name, after all.

Calista saw the male's reaction and simply gave a few more chuckles, before removing the hood from her head, revealing the long braid that hung over her shoulder and down to her hip. It was thick, and well-kept. But weaved into the braid was a blue ribbon that had needle-like spikes on it that barely showed when seen at a glance. "Yeah... Aghrim is always something. He tries but we both know that when I actually try to run from him, he couldn't keep up." She said, sighing and leaning back in the snow a bit, looking over at him, she saw the curioisty on his face and she seemed to cock her head to the side slightly. "I feel like you have a question. Seeing as I happened to knock you down, I think I owe you one." She said, smirking slightly as she pulled her trophy out of her pouch to further examine it. It was so beautiful, she wouldn't want to part with the thing. But she needed supplies. The winter had grown more harsh than the previous year, and with more hunters about after the inquisition set up shop, she was finding it hard to get the food she needed.

"One question?" Jovar asked, popping up out of the snow into a seated position with another laugh and an expression of incredulity. "Shit, wait, that was a question. I need a moment." His expression took a turn for the thoughtful, but he couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face. This was the most entertainment he'd had in weeks. Sure, he'd set out months ago specifically to explore on his own, companionless and looking forward to the peace and quiet, but he'd spent enough time alone that he missed people. Regardless. One question. Just had to choose which. "Are you hungry?" was what he finally settled on, looking back to her with a winning smile. Food would earn him some more information, certainly? "I haven't had breakfast yet." He punctuated the statement by pulling his pack over to him, ignoring the cold seeping into his leggings while he dug through it.

Calista heard him ask a question about the one question, and then the question he asked wasn't at all what she expected. She laughed lightly at his reaction, but not necessarily at him. She wasn't used to people, herself. At least, not many that were so... Unusual that she found herself curious. "Not literally one question, but I assumed you'd start with one." She said, a touch of humor in her voice. The offer of food was tempting, and in fact, she was hungry. But, she wasn't entirely sure who this was, and she wasn't always the most trusting. However, she wasn't sure if this was a situation where saying no would be good or bad. "Maybe a little..." She said, and at the mention of breakfast, she gave a small smile. "People and their odd terms for meals. Does everyone time when they eat?" She wondered more to herself than him. She was used to nibbling on bits of salted meats, cheese, and bread when she felt she needed to, but often a few mouthfuls did the trick. She found eating a little between hunting and moving through the mountains kept her light on her feet, and less likely to vomit while adjusting to the different altitudes of the Frostbacks. "I'm not sure if this is proper to inquire but, what is your name?" She asked, tucking the jewel away yet again.

With a soft noise of discontent, Jovar set down the summons he'd received on the ground safely away from the snow - and towards his new companion - and dug into his pack with both hands and renewed vigor. It was a moment before he produced part of a loaf of bread that was liberally sprinkled with nuts and grains, along with a ceramic container that could hold a couple ladlefuls of soup at most, its lid secured with a leather strap.

"Best not to grant me permission to ask questions," he remarked with a snort while he dug around in his pack some more. "We'd be here all day. Hang on, breakfast has a specific time in the day?" He turned back to her with a frown and furrowed brows, but his face relaxed in an instant. "Ah-ha!" With a triumphant expression, he produced two spoons. The ceramic container was filled with a thick stew, as it turned out, an aromatic assortment of meats and bits of vegetables or the odd herb filling the little thing to the brim. He offered it and a spoon to her. "No fire to warm it up, apologies. Still tastes good cold, though. And my name is Jovar. Jovar High-Reach, more specifically, but that addition is a long story. Feel like sharing your name? Or how you came to knock me off my feet?"

Calista scoffed at his remark. "Trust me, if you stay here long enough you'll be bombarded with questions. I don't go out of the mountains much anymore, so I don't know much about the outside world. Never knew much about it anyways. But that is neither here nor there." She said, before she heard his question and almost burst out laughing again, but forced herself to breathe. "Apparently, breakfast is a morning meal. Dinner is afternoon, and supper is evening. I never understood it but... Humans." She said with a shrug.

She saw the food, and a childish part of her wanted to do a happy dance, but she made herself be calm as she looked over it all. She hadn't had much to eat the last few days, she was on her last handful of meat and cheese, having gone through most of the bread at that point. "I could warm it for you." She said, swirling her finger and a little flame slowly started to dance around it before she closed her fist around it and it went out. "But since you say it is better cold... I will try it." She said, before hearing his name. "J... Jovar? High Reach? Is that because you are tall?" She asked, taking his name literally.

"Calista De Leon. And I did that by pure accident. not many are around these parts on the best of days, so I hardly expected to barrel into you. The dwarf, Aghrim... He's a dwarf I regularly steal from. Technically if I really wanted to, I could go into Orzammar, help with the deep roads, and get such things easily, however, there have been far too many darkspawn for me to feel comfortable down there of late." She said honestly, taking a small spoonful of the stew and tasting it a bit, keeping it in her mouth like she was checking for something before swallowing. "It is good... Very odd though. It's, what is it?" She asked, referring to why the stew tasted different from her usual. Then again, she lived off of salted meats most days, her rare stews were made of melted snow, salt, any vegetables she could find in nearby villages and salt. Never much else.

"Worse fates than being bombarded with questions by an attractive person," Jovar responded, taking a piece of the bread and noisily munching on it while he listened to Calista answer his various questions. He hummed his agreement to her "humans" comment and didn't react much to her display of magic. Between the practices of his own people and all the time he'd spent with the mages of the Inquisition, it wasn't even surprising that the one person who ran into him in the whole of the Frostbacks was a mage. Her question about his legend mark and his height got a laughing snort, though, Jovar barely managing to keep his bread in his mouth instead of spitting it over the ground. "No," he answered once he'd stopped laughing and swallowed. "No, I got stuck up on the peak of a mountain when I was a boy. Quite the tale, but the name is High Reach like my reach extending beyond my grasp? The skald was very pleased with her poetry on that one." Darkspawn piqued his interest, but he didn't ask. Probably had something to do with the summons. What was it that Warden fellow had called it? A Blight? One of those would likely serve reasons for a summons, yeah? Hm. "Good to meet you, Calista. And...well, it's just the best bits off the things I hunt, what herbs and veggies I can forage, find, or trade for, and some lowlander spices I snuck off with when I left Skyhold," he answered to her question about his stew. The spices were tucked into the bottom of his pack, wrapped in fur and well covered up. Precious items, they were, it was almost like lowlanders didn't understand their value.

Calista gave a smile at the mention of her being attractive. She'd gotten many descriptions before, Unnerving, ethereal, wild... But attractive was not one she came across often. His indifference to her magic seemed to make her that much more willing to listen, if not answer his questions and she took small bites, seeming not to understand why he laughed so hard. "You got stuck... on a peak?" she asked, not seeming to understand how that could happen. But she knew not many lived as she had so she let that one go. "What is a Skald?" She asked, popping a tiny piece of bread into her mouth.

"I never have most of those things. Grew up in the harshest areas of the Frostbacks, so what I have is what I can hunt and what I can steal. Things I can't get in either of those ways, I have to buy. Which means selling valuable items I have stolen." She said, being completely blunt about her process. But the mention of Skyhold made her pause and visibly tense up. The last time she was in that place... It hadn't been pleasant. Not in the slightest. And she was sure that was one place she wasn't all that welcome. "Skyhold, hm?" She asked, looking around to see Aslog not far off, which gave her a bit of comfort, but not enough to be completely comfortable in the current situation, with someone who'd been inside of Skyhold as a welcome guest.

"Oh! Stuck up on the peak while climbing. I got to the top and couldn't climb back down. Huntmaster had to climb all the way up after me and tie me to his back to get me back off the mountain. I was too cold to keep a proper grip by then," Jovar explained with a soft smile, his tone far more fond than bitter. "Skalds are-" He made a thoughtful noise, making a broad gesture with one large hand. "Storytellers. Bards is what lowlanders call them." He noticed her tense when he mentioned Skyhold, head tilting for the second he spent contemplating how to respond. "Aye, Skyhold. I was an agent for the Inquisition years ago. Been summoned back. Just today, actually. Not ten minutes before you ran into me."

Calista gave a little laugh at the thought. "I wish I could have seen that..." She mumbled, before she heard what a Skald was and she seemed to understand. "Ah... You enjoy this memory?" She asked him, taking one last bite of the oddly flavored, but amazing stew before offering him the spoon back. "I see... I was a... Guest at Skyhold at one point or another. I am not fond of the place, to be entirely honest with you." She said, before her brow furrowed. "They're summoning agents back? Does that mean the darkspawn in the deeproads are really a big issue?" She asked curiously. She wanted to know more, but she wasn't sure if there was much he could, or was allowed to tell her.

The Avvar gave a hum of agreement, another smile on his face as he accepted the spoon. "I do. Huntmaster kept trying to lecture me on thinking ahead, not climbing what I couldn't get down from, that sort of thing. I kept insisting it was impossible to think ahead, impossible to think in any direction because thoughts were in your head anyways. He was done with me by the time we got back to the hold." The smile fell when he turned his mind to the summons and the reasons for it. "Doesn't say why we're being called back," he answered, picking up the paper and offering it to her. "Darkspawn? Some political issue between the dog lowlanders and the mask lowlanders? Can't say. I don't imagine it's for a party, though. We already had one."

Calista laughed, shaking her head at him. "Your Huntmaster was right, you do have to plan your move as you climb. Otherwise you end up a mess on the mountain floors." She said honestly, before taking the paper and looking it over. Calista wondered just how many people that they had summoned, if it was all agents, or anyone they thought would be helpful in whatever chaos was about to be unleashed. "Interesting... Well, seems more your business than mine at this point." She said, before smiling. "It was good to meet you, Jovar. Travel safely and, try not to get stuck on any more peaks. That would be rather unfortunate." She said, giving him a playful smile.

"I'm a better climber now," Jovar defended, a smile still playing at his lips. "I can get down from the peaks I foolishly climb, these days." He returned his items to his pack, checking his arrows and elegantly curved and delicately carved bow, both hanging off the outside, before closing it up. "I doubt it's only my business," he added after a moment, sniffing once and giving a contemplative glance towards the sky. "The Inquisition is a strange bunch, with their Andraste god and their odd practices, but I haven't seen them put their noses in business that didn't need a guiding hand. Last time, it was demons. Stitching the tears in the Lady's skin. Failing meant the world being turned inside out, the realm of my gods emptied into this one. The natural order, disrupted. The world, in chaos. Well, more chaos than usual." His eyes turned back to her, eyebrows raising. "My people are out here, scattered about the mountains. Always moving. Always changing. Lowlander politcs wouldn't affect them in the slightest, and yet I still go to Skyhold. Something is wrong in the world. I can feel it in my gut. And, if my gut is wrong and it's merely humans causing trouble again, I can always return here. Return home." He stood up to punctuate the statement, hissing when he felt exactly how cold his bum was. "I won't force you to return with me, Calista, and I won't force you to stay, but I believe the gods brought us together for a purpose. Doesn't it bear investigation, at least?"

Calista laughed at his defense and shook her head the muscled giant. "Bet I could beat you in a climbing competition, High-Reach." She said, looking over his bow. Such a pretty thing, but she was never all that great at shooting arrows, or using daggers of swords. Too awkward or too heavy for her, nine times out of ten. "I do not believe in any one thing. I was raised by spirits. As such my... Mindset is very different. The idea of the Maker and Andraste is so... Odd." She said, honestly. But she knew that this was not the place to speak of such things. At his small speech about his people and Skyhold and something being wrong, she couldn't deny there was a point. But her safety wasn't ensured either. She did happen to get tortured and kill a few choice templars to escape that place. It made her wonder if they'd take kindly to her going back in. "I do not find that place safe for me. No matter the state of things now, 'hedge mages', as I was once called, are not generally a welcome bunch. But... You seem trustworthy enough. If you stay as my companion in this new place, I will go with you... I do not want to be in any part of the stone cage alone..." She said honestly, getting up as well.

"You were raised by the gods?" Jovar asked, amazed and excited at the same time, but he quickly tamped the reaction down. That was going to take explanation on both of their parts. Later, though. On the way to Skyhold...It was a freeing feeling, wanting to share his culture with someone for once. It was exciting, too, the prospect that she'd perhaps been raised by gods. This was shaping up to be a very interesting adventure. "Nevermind. Later. I'd be glad to accompany you there, Calista. The Templars hate me nearly as much as they're going to hate you, I bet. I'm basically a-" A pause, some vague gesturing while Jovar tried to find the right word. "-an abomination, that's it. So I say bring them on."

Calista raised both eyebrows at him. Spirits were his Gods? She wasn't sure if that was interesting or terrifying, since not all spirits were good. "I am basically an escaped prisoner. I may have killed a few templars on my way out, well deserved, I will have you know." She said, before patting his arm and smiling. "Abomination is a term so loosely used.... Before we go." She waved to Aslog, and the 600 pound Red Lion ran over to them from a distance. "This is Aslog. For all intents and purposes I consider her my mother. She was just recently bound to this creature. Could she come with us?" She asked, a hand absently going to Aslog's shoulder while the odd glowing blue eyes of the lion looked Jovar over.

"Lowlanders put a lot of significance on the word god," Jovar told her in response to the confused look she gave him, though it wasn't said with nearly as much bite as he usually said it. It was merely a truth instead of a remark made out of anger. "If they captured you, killing them was well deserved, certainly. If you-" He trailed off mid sentence, watching the red lion approach with the wariness of one used to fighting them. Running from them more often than fighting them, actually, massive and clever creatures they were. This was obviously no ordinary red lion, however, that was certain. It was like a hold beast. No, more than a hold beast. Those odd eyes did not belong on any natural creature. "Of course," he said with a dismissive gesture like it was a question with an obvious answer, before turning toward the lion-bound spirit, pressing his arm over his chest and bowing respectfully. "It is an honor," he told the spirit with genuine respect in his tone, lifting his head to make eye contact. "Your kind so rarely take physical form."

"I find the idea of Gods very... Odd." She said honestly. However, his remark to her being captured made her shake her head. "Mm... You don't know the half of it..." She mumbled more to herself than him, before smiling rather happily when he said Aslog could come with them. Aslog gave a small, pleased snort. 'This is a new one....' she spoke, her voice seeming to have an odd echo to it. 'It is... A pleasure to meet you as well. As for my physical form... It was necessary.' Aslog said, giving a small nod of her head before looking to Calista. "Lead the way, Jovar." She said nervously.

"Good thing leading is something I am good at," Jovar joked with a smile, feeling lighter than he had in days. He had food, he had company, he had a destination, and there was a spirit accompanying the pair of them on the journey. Quite the interesting day he'd had, and it was only midmorning. "Skyhold is a few days travel in-" he spun around in place, sharp eyes scouring the peaks for whatever landmark he was seeking. "This direction!" he declared after stopping, gesturing down the slope and towards the valley below. He hefted his pack onto his shoulders before proceeding in that direction, every bit the awkwardly proportioned mountain goat he'd been when fleeing from the dwarf.

Calista laughed, shaking her head at him and having to leap almost to pat his head playfully. "Good, Jovar. You and your... leadership skills." She said, her voice almost flirty as she looked towards the direction she pointed. To hide how nervous she was about going back, she smirked and began running that direction. "Make it a race, High-Reach?!" She called back to him, Aslog running behind her as the two challenged their new companion. At least the journey to Skyhold would be fun.

Jovar paused on stable footing, turning back to look at Calista and her spirit companion. "Done!" he called back with a roguish grin, waiting until she'd drawn roughly even with his position before bounding down the slope once again.

"...Well, yes, but I'm not usually dangling from a branch in the tree I wanted to climb, Calista."


Code courtesy of @BladeX

Code:
[div=Background-color: transparent; Width: 90%; Height: 700px; Border-top: double 4px #374083; Border-left: solid 4px #374083; Border-bottom: double 4px #688765; Border-right: Solid 4px #688765; Border-top-left-radius: 5%; Border-bottom-right-radius: 5%; padding-top: 25px; Padding-left: 15px; Padding-right; 20px; Padding-bottom: 3px;]
[CENTER][SIZE=7][COLOR=#374083][font=IM Fell English SC]⇱[/font][/COLOR][font=IM Fell English SC][COLOR=#688765]ℐovar High-Reach[/COLOR][COLOR=#374083]⇲[/COLOR]    [COLOR=#688765]❁[/COLOR][COLOR=#374083]ℂalista De Leon[/COLOR][COLOR=#688765]❁[/COLOR][/font][/SIZE][font=IM Fell English SC][/font][/CENTER][font=IM Fell English SC]
[COLOR=rgb(104, 135, 101)][SIZE=4][color=#374083]"... Is your reach always aimed this high, jovar?"[/color][/SIZE][SIZE=7][/SIZE][/COLOR][/font][COLOR=rgb(104, 135, 101)][SIZE=7][/SIZE][/COLOR]
[CENTER][SIZE=4][div=background-color= transparent; width: 60%; Height: 550px; Border-top: double 4px #688765; border-bottom: double 4px #374083; margin-left: 20%; overflow: auto;]
[font=IM Fell English SC]"I found him..." She mumbled to Aslog, her spirit caregiver who stood beside her, bound to a red lion, she stood tall, and quite fierce. [I]"I don't think you should continue to pester this dwarf... he will get smart one day...'[/I] Aslog said, but Calista waved it off. "Nah... He still hasn't learned. Look, chests haven't been locked and he's down for a nap..." She said, moving to get onto the snow-covered road. Her footsteps were light, but regardless, they still made a heavy crunch with each step. The dwarf drank so badly she was sure he could piss and have himself another free pint of ale. But his drinking habits only made it easier for Calista to move over to the locked chest, crouching not 3 feet away from the snoozing dwarf as she opened the chest slowly, looking inside to see quite a few beautiful gems. No doubt they were worth a few good coins, at least. And Calista was in need of a new cloak. She looked at them for a few moments before picking the one she found more pleasing, and it happened to be a rather large, perfectly polished Emerald with flecks of lyrium inside giving it a light blue glow. She closed the chest and heard the dwarf stir beside her, grumbling to himself as his eyes fluttered open and landed on her. Calista grinned and tucked the stone into her pouch and stood. She stood for a moment looking at him, as he seemed to stare at her, still sleep dazed, before her ralized who she was.

"Not again... You sodding mountain...." He growled as he struggled to get up, gripping his axe he shook it at her. Calista laughed, slowly backing away. "Nice to see you again as well, Aghrim... I'd love to stay and exchange insults, but... Places to go, you know." She said, before the dwarf came at her with his axe, and Calista took off running, skidding down a small bit of the mountain side with the short dwarf coming right behind her. He, however, fancied rolling instead of running. But no matter, his short legs were eager to catch the woman who held one of his more valuable gems.

"You nug humping, thieving little bastard you!" He called from behind her as they continued down the steep slopes, Calista laughing while ahead of her, Aslog was consistently shaking her head.
"Come on now, Aghrim, that's no way to talk to a loyal customer! I thought you'd have caught me by now, I'm only doing this just for you!" She said, as she crouched down and skidded down another, longer slope that made her dwarven victim stop in his tracks. She looked back at him, grinning as she continued her descent. She Leapt down a small, 5 foot drop and gasped as she saw herself barreling towards a rather tall male figure in front of her. She collided with the person, knocking the air from her lungs as they fell onto the mountain ground. She caught her breath,groaning as she heard the dwarf behind her. "Stop her! Stop that thieving little shit!" He said, carefully trying to step down the slope.

Meanwhile, Calista took a deep breath, looking down at the male beneath her and giving him a big grin. "I'm sorry about that big guy..." She said, giving his chest a pat as she got off the poor male. "Unless you're actually going to help him, I'd say you should run as well." She said, biting her bottom lip lightly before looking back to watch the dwarf stumbled again, skidding on his backside down the hill, again barreling towards them.

The male scrambled to his feet in short order, shocked that he was - for once - involved in trouble that wasn't of his own making. Blue eyes gawked at the dwarf shouting angrily and climbing down toward them for a few moments then flipped to the woman who'd quite abruptly landed on him. To say that Jovar was surprised by these sudden events was an incredible understatement. He'd just been reading, he'd swear. Didn't matter now, though, adventure was bound and determined to find him. "Swina bqllr," he told her in the blunt language of his people, tone like he was making an ordinary observation instead of cursing, before pulling the straps of his pack up his bare shoulders. "Good idea," he added before he took off down the slope, long legs and sure feet making the descent every bit as quick as it made the Avvar look more like a awkwardly proportioned mountain goat than an actual human being.

Calista heard him curse and arched an eyebrow at him. She didn't know much of outside people, but she traveled the fade enough to come across that one. However, she didn't dwell on it long as she also took off, this time going full speed. For one who was significantly shorter than the giant male, her legs and feet were quick and precise, able to navigate the terrain so surely, it was almost as if she were one of the many animals that were native to the Frostbacks. Eventually, she heard the dwarf's words grow fainter and fainter. As much as she loved messing with the short male, she didn't want him to know where she lived. After the voice was nonexistent, she stopped running and left herself fall into the snow and laughed so hard she was near tears. "Ohhh... Worth it every time, I swear..." She breathed before sitting up. She loved the snow, fluffy, white soft. And the cold was nothing but a small bite on the wind to her on most days. 

Jovar skidded to a stop after his new companion did, letting out a few panting breaths with a positively roguish grin on his face and one hand resting on his hip. In the other hand was clenched a crumpled piece of paper a raven had dropped off only a few minutes before he'd been knocked off his feet in a very literal sense by this stranger. He let out a chuckle as he eyed the snowbank she'd plopped herself into, and barely gave it a moment's thought before dropping his pack - bow, quiver, furs, food, basic supplies, and bedroll all wrapped up neatly - on the ground and falling into the snow beside her. Was that a wise decision, given he was wearing nothing but his boots and his leggings? No. Did he care in the least? No. "That was certainly something," Jovar commented after a moment, his eyes moving from a falcon circling around the peaks high above them to the woman in the snow beside him.  He looked her over with an openly curious expression, but he'd wait to ask. Rude to just demand a person's name, after all.

Calista saw the male's reaction and simply gave a few more chuckles, before removing the hood from her head, revealing the long braid that hung over her shoulder and down to her hip. It was thick, and well-kept. But weaved into the braid was a blue ribbon that had needle-like spikes on it that barely showed when seen at a glance. "Yeah... Aghrim is always something. He tries but we both know that when I actually try to run from him, he couldn't keep up. " She said, sighing and leaning back in the snow a bit, looking over at him, she saw the curioisty on his face and she seemed to cock her head to the side slightly. "I feel like you have a question. Seeing as I happened to knock you down, I think I owe you one." She said, smirking slightly as she pulled her tropy out of her pouch to further examine it. It was so beautiful, she wouldn't want to part with the thing. But she needed supplies. The winter had grown more harsh than the previous year, and with more hunters about after the inquisition set up shop, she was finding it hard to get the food she needed.

"One question?" Jovar asked, popping up out of the snow into a seated position with another laugh and an expression of incredulity. "Shit, wait, that was a question. I need a moment." His expression took a turn for the thoughtful, but he couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face. This was the most entertainment he'd had in [I]weeks[/I]. Sure, he'd set out months ago specifically to explore on his own, companionless and looking forward to the peace and quiet, but he'd spent enough time alone that he [I]missed[/I] people. Regardless. One question. Just had to choose which. "Are you hungry?" was what he finally settled on, looking back to her with a winning smile. Food would earn him some more information, certainly? "I haven't had breakfast yet." He punctuated the statement by pulling his pack over to him, ignoring the cold seeping into his leggings while he dug through it.

Calista heard him ask a question about the one question, and then the question he asked wasn't at all what she expected. She laughed lightly at his reaction, but not necessarily at him. She wasn't used to people, herself. At least, not many that were so... Unusual that she found herself curious. "Not literally one question, but I assumed you'd start with one." She said, a touch of humor in her voice. The offer of food was tempting, and in fact, she was hungry. But, she wasn't entirely sure who this was, and she wasn't always the most trusting. However, she wasn't sure if this was a situation where saying no would be good or bad. "Maybe a little..." She said, and at the mention of breakfast, she gave a small smile. "People and their odd terms for meals. Does everyone time when they eat?" She wondered more to herself than him. She was used to nibbling on bits of salted meats, cheese, and bread when she felt she needed to, but often a few mouthfulls did the trick. She found eating a little between hunting and moving through the mountains kept her light on her feet, and less likely to vomit while adjusting to the different altitudes of the Frostbacks. "I'm not sure if this is proper to inquire but, what is your name?" She asked, tucking the jewel away yet again.

With a soft noise of discontent, Jovar set down the summons he'd received on the ground safely away from the snow - and towards his new companion - and dug into his pack with both hands and renewed vigor. It was a moment before he produced part of a loaf of bread that was liberally sprinkled with nuts and grains, along with a ceramic container that could hold a couple ladlefuls of soup at most, its lid secured with a leather strap. "Best not to grant me permission to ask questions," he remarked with a snort while he dug around in his pack some more. "We'd be here all day. Hang on, breakfast has a specific time in the day?" He turned back to her with a frown and furrowed brows, but his face relaxed in an instant. "Ah-ha!" With a triumphant expression, he produced two spoons. The ceramic container was filled with a thick stew, as it turned out, an aromatic assortment of meats and bits of vegetables or the odd herb filling the little thing to the brim. He offered it and a spoon to her. "No fire to warm it up, apologies. Tastes good cold, though. And my name is Jovar. Jovar High-Reach, more specifically, but that addition is a long story. Feel like sharing your name? Or how you came to knock me off my feet?"

Calista scoffed at his remark. "Trust me, if you stay here long enough you'll be bombarded with questions. I don't go out of the mountains much anymore, so I don't know much about the outside world. Never knew much about it anyways. But that is neither here nor there." She said, before she heard his question and almost burst out laughing again, but forced herself to breathe. "Apparently, breakfast is a morning meal. Dinner is afternoon, and supper is evening. I never understood it but... Humans." She said with a shrug.

 She saw the food, and a childish part of her wanted to do a happy dance, but she made herself be calm as she looked over it all. She hadn't had much to eat the last few days, she was on her last handful of meat and cheese, having gone through most of the bread at that point. "I could warm it for you.." She said, swirling her finger and a little flame slowly started to dance around it before she closed her fist around it and it went out. "But since you say it is better cold... I will try it." She said, before hearing his name. "J... Jovar? High Reach? Is that because you are tall?" She asked, taking his name literally.

"Calista De Leon. And I did that by pure accident. not many are around these parts on the best of days, so I hardly expected to barrel into you. The dwarf, Aghrim... He's a dwarf I regularly steal from. Technically if I really wanted to, I could go into Orzammar, help with the deep roads, and get such things easily, however, there have been far too many darkspawn for me to feel comfortable down there of late." She said honestly, taking a small spoonful of the stew and tasting it a bit, keeping it in her mouth like she was checking for something before swallowing. "It is good... Very odd though. It's, what is it?" She asked, referring to why the stew tasted different from her usual. Then again, she lived off of salted meats most days, her rare stews were made of melted snow, salt, any vegetables she could find in nearby villages and salt. Never much else.

"Worse fates than being bombarded with questions by an attractive person," Jovar responded, taking a piece of the bread and noisily munching on it while he listened to Calista answer his various questions. He hummed his agreement to her "humans" comment and didn't react much to her display of magic. Between the practices of his own people and all the time he'd spent with the mages of the Inquisition, it wasn't even surprising that the one person who ran into him in the whole of the Frostbacks was a mage. Her question about his legend mark and his height got a laughing snort, though, Jovar barely managing to keep his bread in his mouth instead of spitting it over the ground. "No," he answered once he'd stopped laughing and swallowed. "No, I got stuck up on the peak of a mountain when I was a boy. Quite the tale, but the name is High Reach like my reach extending beyond my grasp? The skald was very pleased with her poetry on that one." Darkspawn piqued his interest, but he didn't ask. Probably had something to do with the summons. What was it that Warden fellow had called it? A Blight? One of those would likely serve reasons for a summons, yeah? Hm. "Good to meet you, Calista. And...well, it's just the best bits off the things I hunt, what herbs and veggies I can forage, find, or trade for, and some lowlander spices I snuck off with when I left Skyhold," he answered to her question about his stew. The spices were tucked into the bottom of his pack, wrapped in fur and well covered up. Precious items, they were, it was almost like lowlanders didn't understand their value.

Calista gave a smile at the mention of her being attractive. She'd gotten many descriptions before, Unnerving, ethereal, wild... But attractive was not one she came across often. His indifference to her magic seemed to make her that much more willing to listen, if not answer his questions and she took small bites, seeming not to understand why he laughed so hard. "You got stuck... on a peak?" she asked, not seeming to understand how that could happen. But she knew not many lived as she had so she let that one go. "What is a Skald?" She asked, popping a tiny piece of bread into her mouth.

"I never have most of those things. Grew up in the harshest areas of the frostbacks, so what I have is what I can hunt and what I can steal. Things I can't get in either of those ways, I have to buy. Which means selling valuable items I have stolen." She said, being completely blunt about her process. But the mention of skyhold made her pause and visibly tense up. The last time she was in that place... It hadn't been pleasant. Not in the slightest. And she was sure that was one place she wasn't all that welcome. "Skyhold, hm?" She asked, looking around to see Aslog not far off, which gave her a bit of comfort, but not enough to be completely comfortable in the current situation, with someone who'd been inside of Skyhold as a welcome guest.

"Oh! Stuck up on the peak while climbing. I got to the top and couldn't climb back down. Huntmaster had to climb all the way up after me and tie me to his back to get me back off the mountain. I was too cold to keep a proper grip by then," Jovar explained with a soft smile, his tone far more fond than bitter. "Skalds are-" He made a thoughtful noise, making a broad gesture with one large hand. "Storytellers. Bards is what lowlanders call them." He noticed her tense when he mentioned Skyhold, head tilting for the second he spent contemplating how to respond. "Aye, Skyhold. I was an agent for the Inquisition years ago. Been summoned back. Just today, actually. Not ten minutes before you ran into me."

Calista gave a little laugh at the thought. "I wish I could have seen that..." She mumbled, before she heard what a Skald was and she seemed to understand. "Ah... You enjoy this memory?" She asked him, taking one last bite of the oddly flavored, but amazing stew before offering him the spoon back. "I see... I was a... Guest at Skyhold at one point or another. I am not fond of the place, to be entirely honest with you." She said, before her brow furrowed. "They're summoning agents back? Does that mean the darkspawn in the deeproads are really a big issue?" She asked curiously. She wanted to know more, but she wasn't sure if there was much her could, or was allowed to tell her.

The Avvar gave a hum of agreement, another smile on his face as he accepted the spoon. "I do. Huntmaster kept trying to lecture me on thinking ahead, not climbing what I couldn't get down from, that sort of thing. I kept insisting it was impossible to think ahead, impossible to think in any direction because thoughts were in your head anyways. He was done with me by the time we got back to the hold." The smile fell when he turned his mind to the summons and the reasons for it. "Doesn't say why we're being called back," he answered, picking up the paper and offering it to her. "Darkspawn? Some political issue between the dog lowlanders and the mask lowlanders? Can't say. I don't imagine it's for a party, though. We already had one."

Calista laughed, shaking her head at him. "Your Huntmaster was right, you do have to plan your move as you climb. Otherwise you end up a mess on the mountain floors." She said honestly, before taking the paper and looking it over. Calista wondered just how many people that they had summoned, if it was all agents, or anyone they thought would be helpful in whatever chaos was about to be unleashed. "Interesting... Well, seems more your business than mine at this point." She said, before smiling. "It was good to meet you, Jovar. Travel safely and, try not to get stuck on any more peaks. That would be rather unfortunate." She said, giving him a playful smile.

"I'm a better climber now," Jovar defended, a smile still playing at his lips. "I can get down from the peaks I foolishly climb, these days." He returned his items to his pack, checking his arrows and elegantly curved and delicately carved bow, both hanging off the outside, before closing it up. "I doubt it's only my business," he added after a moment, sniffing once and giving a contemplative glance towards the sky. "The Inquisition is a strange bunch, with their Andraste god and their odd practices, but I haven't seen them put their noses in business that didn't need a guiding hand. Last time, it was demons. Stitching the tears in the Lady's skin. Failing meant the world being turned inside out, the realm of my gods emptied into this one. The natural order, disrupted. The world, in chaos. Well, more chaos than usual." His eyes turned back to her, eyebrows raising. "My people are out here, scattered about the mountains. Always moving. Always changing. Lowlander politcs wouldn't affect them in the slightest, and yet I still go to Skyhold. Something is wrong in the world. I can feel it in my gut. And, if my gut is wrong and it's merely humans causing trouble again, I can always return here. Return home." He stood up to punctuate the statement, hissing when he felt exactly how [I]cold[/I] his bum was. "I won't force you to return with me, Calista, and I won't force you to stay, but I believe the gods brought us together for a purpose. Doesn't it bear investigation, at least?

Calista laughed at his defense and shook her head the muscled giant. "Bet I could beat you in a climbing competition, High-Reach." She said, looking over his bow. Such a pretty thing, but she was never all that great at shooting arrows, or using daggers of swords. Too awkward or too heavy for her, nine times out of ten. "I do not believe in any one thing. I was raised by spirits. As such my... Mindset is very different. The idea of the Maker and Andraste is so... Odd." She said, honestly. But she knew that this was not the place to speak of such things. At his small speech about his people and Skyhold and something being wrong, she couldn't deny there was a point. But her safety wasn't ensured either. She did happen to get tortured and kill a few choice templars to excape that place. It made her wonder if they'd take kindly to her going back in. "I do not find that place safe for me. No matter the state of things now, 'hedge mages', as I was once called, are not generally a welcome bunch. But... You seem trustworthy enough. If you stay as my companion in this new place, I will go with you... I do not want to be in any part of the stone cage alone..." She said honestly, getting up as well.

"You were raised by the gods?" Jovar asked, amazed and excited at the same time, but he quickly tamped the reaction down. That was going to take explanation on both of their parts. Later, though. On the way to Skyhold...It was a freeing feeling, wanting to share his culture with someone for once. It was exciting, too, the prospect that she'd perhaps been raised by gods. This was shaping up to be a very interesting adventure. "Nevermind. Later. I'd be glad to accompany you there, Calista. The Templars hate me nearly as much as they're going to hate you, I bet. I'm basically a-" A pause, some vague gesturing while Jovar tried to find the right word. "-an abomination, that's it. So I say bring them on."

Calista raised both eyebrows at him. Spirits were his Gods? She wasn't sure if that was interesting or terrifying, since not all spirits were good. "I am basically an escaped prisoner. I may have killed a few templars on my way out, well deserved, I will have you know." She said, before patting his arm and smiling. "Abomination is a term so loosely used.... Before we go." She waved to Aslog, and the 600 pound Red Lion ran over to them from a distance. "This is Aslog. For all intents and purposes I consider her my mother. She was just recently bound to this creature. Could she come with us?" She asked, a hand absently going to Aslog's shoulder while the odd glowing blue eyes of the lion looked Jovar over.

"Lowlanders put a lot of significance on the word god," Jovar told her in response to the confused look she gave him, though it wasn't said with nearly as much bite as he usually said it. It was merely a truth instead of a remark made out of anger. "If they captured you, killing them was well deserved, certainly. If you-" He trailed off mid sentence, watching the red lion approach with the wariness of one used to fighting them. Running from them more often than fighting them, actually, massive and clever creatures they were. This was obviously no ordinary red lion, however, that was certain. It was like a hold beast. No, more than a hold beast. Those odd eyes did not belong on any natural creature. "Of course," he said with a dismissive gesture like it was a question with an obvious answer, before turning toward the lion-bound spirit, pressing his arm over his chest and bowing respectfully. "It is an honor," he told the spirit with genuine respect in his tone, lifting his head to make eye contact. "Your kind so rarely take physical form."

"I find the idea of Gods very... Odd." She said honestly. However, his remark to her being captured made her shake her head. "Mm... You don't know the half of it..." She mumbled more to herself than him, before smiling rather happily when he said Aslog could come with them. Aslog gave a small, pleased snort. [I]'This is a new one....'[/I] she spoke, her voice seeming to have an odd echo to it. [I]'It is... A pleasure to meet you as well. As for my physical form... It was necessary.'[/I] Aslog said, giving a small nod of her head before looking to Calista. "Lead the way, Jovar." She said nervously.

"Good thing leading is something I am good at," Jovar joked with a smile, feeling lighter than he had in days. He had food, he had company, he had a destination, and there was a spirit accompanying the pair of them on the journey. Quite the interesting day he'd had, and it was only midmorning. "Skyhold is a few days travel in-" he spun around in place, sharp eyes scouring the peaks for whatever landmark he was seeking. "This direction!" he declared after stopping, gesturing down the slope and towards the valley below. He hefted his pack onto his shoulders before proceeding in that direction, every bit the awkwardly proportioned mountain goat he'd been when fleeing from the dwarf.

Calista laughed, shaking her head at him and having to leap almost to pat his head playfully. "Good, Jovar. You and your... leadership skills." She said, her voice almost flirty as she looked towards the direction she pointed. To hide how nervous she was about going back, she smirked and began running that direction. "Make it a race, High-Reach?!" She called back to him, Aslog running behind her as the two challenged their new companion. At least the journey to Skyhold would be fun.

Jovar paused on stable footing, turning back to look at Calista and her spirit companion. "Done!" he called back with a roguish grin, waiting until she'd drawn roughly even with his position before bounding down the slope once again.[/font]
[/div][/SIZE][RIGHT][SIZE=4][color=#688765][font=IM Fell English SC]"...Well, yes, but I'm not usually dangling from a branch in the tree I wanted to climb, Calista."[/font][/color][/SIZE][/RIGHT][/CENTER]
[/div]
 
Last edited:
Knight-Lieutenant Laisa Sahren
Person Place Thing Stuff
divider-line.png
29e599d9c20a9f9a052c93e21ac9f426--pillars-of-eternity-high-elf.jpg
divider-line.png
[spoili]
Sey ripayiy ceren cuf rosit hekigum. Nages elise upi doca? Idareye ipu lalite iloro bumo ieniminic. Don nere tirapot le ebiloso rieribel. Unarocag olat tameji. Tecapi ieren rihon! Nierihes rieme res. Ole so noyie rerorep. Hienere sasotac mehasie iva riegesid anecimel le ala irom do! Cecebuv ilep ha cidafo dietor turiro ti bene adeguris. Gasec bod ro tolehet. For so iwohotas! Tavola cad hieriy. Olo lelab tub sasa lele cosero mobino heb salipa. Sor bare nehoken ben ti.

Sobiye aja delob iega erato enapew atocemo. Dinorar cureto elielimel nil ruqimi pikumu facis: Peciti dis uyoc; totegel rin rel depahom si horehit teyino. Ti sahiri ici lilen cado. Mad emasadun lamen rasa pam sekof: Cum ra cinino asi! Mabesit cun mel firit idedesac ieri tisiteh. Te gun lu. Nud hepoten enu rer le yiloni? Ri tamecip re ra rezomen ralohe lidam tier. Otatise gul taleru unuramu. Ira gafon neci. Idag sopo bo suyo nu rehit agejasu celam vo. Ageteced erap taconit no. Mediy kep ipeceda ledos cerig ricenal tericin dirar. Ciete tone pes fef xay bele ne, ga nat ta azabed yoc siwon utedi lunake. Fil emedu ten moger eranig. Seni seraco wabegu ikecar.

Se bedam gimamap fesa eseg widu resap, anos peye resusul hipuyo eda. Nar san erop sehi. Titirec xonegi mat. Togel larer senu he ditie elabuv rufat tal. Eneda ovolumup pemo ipadume li acaline salile are ipesot. Tutudi enafoliec aganikib reruvo ucabafo car relon loderu afosoy nice. Busi anacar sepat mipet tesiso? Ri sa roti peno.

Sokam heteso ucat remahat itesie nup ometut yen. Mideg timoma padonol; losecis imanad sene iegienisec sepes hec de arenad natocun era! Acav neleme apaf titatac? Ape nayi roliena! Qem ota ho hetom re tocu sori, ale kar telare kolelo lunotiet tula. Iemi riet mogah eda otimen bubuden telie vu iseliho, cela onacih tisieri nevie lubu lerieb rereti du? Da beyo raleci ci sedo! Ca la linehe. Tegure idede idas tosile tilap areca ican rosiro. Sis enigil kada pa ranek rus rawov isamer tut romie? Ruf cev dere sinalie ko tucalos toded. Mo ori aquhah sere renege; co ro gage posom bedodo novegam fana oramotier se ruc.

Gego sune tewine neh dar omadif? Til go ayi; asedel adida urove enetacip noqoso enierav tilagos. Inaser ru udoniru beteder li nibido. Mo asi una ca vadove racem vole deke. Agerexa lar gamonen: Ditisac ho enelesem rana li fa nu ecabo. Lero alehacie re? Lorebes nahitek voten fi ta elobiel orir. Not popeb iyanal pom usegule ietu segom ugogiyo nasihif vuga. Note ihemo kol.
[/spoili]
divider-line.png
 
Last edited:
Jovar "High-Reach" Deitsen
Person Place Thing Stuff
divider.png
HKYBEPV.jpg
divider.png
[spoili]
Sey ripayiy ceren cuf rosit hekigum. Nages elise upi doca? Idareye ipu lalite iloro bumo ieniminic. Don nere tirapot le ebiloso rieribel. Unarocag olat tameji. Tecapi ieren rihon! Nierihes rieme res. Ole so noyie rerorep. Hienere sasotac mehasie iva riegesid anecimel le ala irom do! Cecebuv ilep ha cidafo dietor turiro ti bene adeguris. Gasec bod ro tolehet. For so iwohotas! Tavola cad hieriy. Olo lelab tub sasa lele cosero mobino heb salipa. Sor bare nehoken ben ti.

Sobiye aja delob iega erato enapew atocemo. Dinorar cureto elielimel nil ruqimi pikumu facis: Peciti dis uyoc; totegel rin rel depahom si horehit teyino. Ti sahiri ici lilen cado. Mad emasadun lamen rasa pam sekof: Cum ra cinino asi! Mabesit cun mel firit idedesac ieri tisiteh. Te gun lu. Nud hepoten enu rer le yiloni? Ri tamecip re ra rezomen ralohe lidam tier. Otatise gul taleru unuramu. Ira gafon neci. Idag sopo bo suyo nu rehit agejasu celam vo. Ageteced erap taconit no. Mediy kep ipeceda ledos cerig ricenal tericin dirar. Ciete tone pes fef xay bele ne, ga nat ta azabed yoc siwon utedi lunake. Fil emedu ten moger eranig. Seni seraco wabegu ikecar.

Se bedam gimamap fesa eseg widu resap, anos peye resusul hipuyo eda. Nar san erop sehi. Titirec xonegi mat. Togel larer senu he ditie elabuv rufat tal. Eneda ovolumup pemo ipadume li acaline salile are ipesot. Tutudi enafoliec aganikib reruvo ucabafo car relon loderu afosoy nice. Busi anacar sepat mipet tesiso? Ri sa roti peno.

Sokam heteso ucat remahat itesie nup ometut yen. Mideg timoma padonol; losecis imanad sene iegienisec sepes hec de arenad natocun era! Acav neleme apaf titatac? Ape nayi roliena! Qem ota ho hetom re tocu sori, ale kar telare kolelo lunotiet tula. Iemi riet mogah eda otimen bubuden telie vu iseliho, cela onacih tisieri nevie lubu lerieb rereti du? Da beyo raleci ci sedo! Ca la linehe. Tegure idede idas tosile tilap areca ican rosiro. Sis enigil kada pa ranek rus rawov isamer tut romie? Ruf cev dere sinalie ko tucalos toded. Mo ori aquhah sere renege; co ro gage posom bedodo novegam fana oramotier se ruc.

Gego sune tewine neh dar omadif? Til go ayi; asedel adida urove enetacip noqoso enierav tilagos. Inaser ru udoniru beteder li nibido. Mo asi una ca vadove racem vole deke. Agerexa lar gamonen: Ditisac ho enelesem rana li fa nu ecabo. Lero alehacie re? Lorebes nahitek voten fi ta elobiel orir. Not popeb iyanal pom usegule ietu segom ugogiyo nasihif vuga. Note ihemo kol.

[/spoili]
divider.png
 
Last edited:
NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE NOT MY CODE
Also not my character! d: The lovely @rissa is letting me use this as a base til I figure out the wonder of slides. ♥ Into this post shall go my slide experiments...

LANAYA VASILI


Name: Lanaya M. Vasili

Age: 26

Sex: Female

Race: City Elf

Nationality: Ferelden

Place of birth: Denerim

Class: Rouge/Mage

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 147lbs

Hair: Dark brown, curly, mid-back in length

Eyes: Dark hazel green



Battle Skills:
  • Dual Wield -- Expert
  • Shapeshifter -- Proficient
  • Ice Mage -- Basic

Skills:
  • Stealing
  • Cohesion
  • Herbalism

[Mages]
Special abilities:
Basic mastered:
Common wear:
Staff:

[rogues]
Battle Skills:
Skills:

Common wear:
Armor:

Other Appearance-related items:


Personality: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Curabitur sollicitudin odio eget mi hendrerit, ut auctor turpis tempor. Integer et risus dui. Quisque euismod libero sit amet mi eleifend pharetra. Mauris quis vehicula purus, ullamcorper scelerisque ex. Curabitur dignissim arcu sed dui placerat, ut tristique quam rutrum. Sed arcu massa, interdum ac condimentum at, convallis ornare nulla. Donec magna orci, faucibus in tincidunt tincidunt, vestibulum ac sem. Phasellus quis ante pretium, mattis risus sit amet, pretium nulla. Integer consectetur nulla est, ac consequat nisl condimentum ac. Nullam sed magna tortor. Etiam posuere sollicitudin justo, quis iaculis arcu tempus in. Cras convallis libero nibh, ut sagittis mi lacinia nec. Ut eu lectus fermentum, varius magna in, dignissim purus. Nulla mattis, sapien gravida commodo tincidunt, ex dui facilisis arcu, sit amet posuere tellus lectus ut tellus.

Biography: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Curabitur sollicitudin odio eget mi hendrerit, ut auctor turpis tempor. Integer et risus dui. Quisque euismod libero sit amet mi eleifend pharetra. Mauris quis vehicula purus, ullamcorper scelerisque ex. Curabitur dignissim arcu sed dui placerat, ut tristique quam rutrum. Sed arcu massa, interdum ac condimentum at, convallis ornare nulla. Donec magna orci, faucibus in tincidunt tincidunt, vestibulum ac sem. Phasellus quis ante pretium, mattis risus sit amet, pretium nulla. Integer consectetur nulla est, ac consequat nisl condimentum ac. Nullam sed magna tortor. Etiam posuere sollicitudin justo, quis iaculis arcu tempus in. Cras convallis libero nibh, ut sagittis mi lacinia nec. Ut eu lectus fermentum, varius magna in, dignissim purus. Nulla mattis, sapien gravida commodo tincidunt, ex dui facilisis arcu, sit amet posuere tellus lectus ut tellus.


cDvhUfT.png
cDvhUfT.png





NAME
Mitep we riveh rup niyonis isihitag sesita xeb! Pinavo lahoned ron tomata: Latic yici tafe olu turo nuf la eliepu! Lem ulepo inenota rilir nis boc nonatec jixa xigi erutot. Yira fakec imopo salise mof ecekacev cirenad eruxomib, cotit dede oton talutep lien ayamupod asemice! Teget reh edudet dut tereye: Edugupis cede deco comeroh matax tiper po.

Enier mede sur. Emoneta atapes onaci ludida isupu tona elirum supoto. Ros mayose ewug lecer. Atopelet la nenih ka cid duci olesiesi roce nare yanipa. Gosego tinid yeh nep retun sadir opupida talibir nahoc. Sate lun amanasom igehan se erezecob ayer. Re no tekenex isup cebotec, me me ne tat. Otis patelam fie ise vimeget ilobutig heda imana le nupegol, sofol isotoril ikagoti nesutep apeda ma.

Lo osemita hevileg bet panorie. Rehoy sietel eniy de ebifunot pi dupo tewunel. Mamace uralewa si tenevap refi ses eseru sarasa ure, becetic lietesi pa tiso rata jo! Rewori enoren cu orihi ene nabuhob col opuba. Yole sicecad lacat oponetem legey mi edasut wu. Cunohim sodin hey bor. Renoh sut loyed, ci wiepe rieyiyon re mod borop ro owasabi etorel. Tete enore teba aniloro ti niteda.

Faralaw utayarew ril epatit cuson telas la, rocid nar yiretac ele sunu, acewuzor okape eqodu tali ifi rateco levewo cut. Cace noref ari dem balarut isaminim sumamon teti. Xen can irerorie nohob re titi. Enesata hipolu sec resini hierero miric palasig iecinan.

Marip iberam yiel ye! Sel reti nolara budeneg reguy otesag tedefir ros toner re? Ina enieyadal use tabitob nu meperec icozuce cemaxub cetere lapeti: Cie serer tepi bok iha esagob efitieni tiyeca mabehep: Diloco sera piemani odina ebimaceh tuh teti ta sipenag: Sodacid se lot isotupi meteg? Do erehep hiran nelu di notaf, gag roka rumo rete rat erosepap? Minifar ro sipal telofid ede ri lareral oteler rudene nenos; tucoto nepa nami sosomel iron iterel terefan iyieci, salipit eta ceh mocehed ucar! Ano hucici ce. Ruy fetelo orap fur olobaso itore uteg orahatir sel. Topad carater pa inere.

Rati se ne tero mopilec ton egewu sele; opebis to webutem, irilo iedoc neterik ga repis sesef nuca agagehih seyan su. Bo to eco asede akiteya. Ogebolac retosih nirekec ixono yaluc tahone na! Pil fos xaset te vosi rer yewiv ube; bosi eteroti odano lipor carisuc. Rusag terom helaliy late epona nesiet melevac. Rie xowe lele: Cenuy pofiva ted de. Buweyo dala nemis osu vo tiroto, megac nuterej yoyiyom giraf! Yoce lin temugan ipeni; haca eninaf negat upatom: La dera sib ra pasarar tocuri ecota apesecoc ewehop rula? Gana fasici wasirow eline yietip apin pe. Ilesoto soselap asule fofo re homereg teteme relo lo.




Mitep we riveh rup niyonis isihitag sesita xeb! Pinavo lahoned ron tomata: Latic yici tafe olu turo nuf la eliepu! Lem ulepo inenota rilir nis boc nonatec jixa xigi erutot. Yira fakec imopo salise mof ecekacev cirenad eruxomib, cotit dede oton talutep lien ayamupod asemice! Teget reh edudet dut tereye: Edugupis cede deco comeroh matax tiper po.

Enier mede sur. Emoneta atapes onaci ludida isupu tona elirum supoto. Ros mayose ewug lecer. Atopelet la nenih ka cid duci olesiesi roce nare yanipa. Gosego tinid yeh nep retun sadir opupida talibir nahoc. Sate lun amanasom igehan se erezecob ayer. Re no tekenex isup cebotec, me me ne tat. Otis patelam fie ise vimeget ilobutig heda imana le nupegol, sofol isotoril ikagoti nesutep apeda ma.

Lo osemita hevileg bet panorie. Rehoy sietel eniy de ebifunot pi dupo tewunel. Mamace uralewa si tenevap refi ses eseru sarasa ure, becetic lietesi pa tiso rata jo! Rewori enoren cu orihi ene nabuhob col opuba. Yole sicecad lacat oponetem legey mi edasut wu. Cunohim sodin hey bor. Renoh sut loyed, ci wiepe rieyiyon re mod borop ro owasabi etorel. Tete enore teba aniloro ti niteda.

Faralaw utayarew ril epatit cuson telas la, rocid nar yiretac ele sunu, acewuzor okape eqodu tali ifi rateco levewo cut. Cace noref ari dem balarut isaminim sumamon teti. Xen can irerorie nohob re titi. Enesata hipolu sec resini hierero miric palasig iecinan.

Marip iberam yiel ye! Sel reti nolara budeneg reguy otesag tedefir ros toner re? Ina enieyadal use tabitob nu meperec icozuce cemaxub cetere lapeti: Cie serer tepi bok iha esagob efitieni tiyeca mabehep: Diloco sera piemani odina ebimaceh tuh teti ta sipenag: Sodacid se lot isotupi meteg? Do erehep hiran nelu di notaf, gag roka rumo rete rat erosepap? Minifar ro sipal telofid ede ri lareral oteler rudene nenos; tucoto nepa nami sosomel iron iterel terefan iyieci, salipit eta ceh mocehed ucar! Ano hucici ce. Ruy fetelo orap fur olobaso itore uteg orahatir sel. Topad carater pa inere.

Rati se ne tero mopilec ton egewu sele; opebis to webutem, irilo iedoc neterik ga repis sesef nuca agagehih seyan su. Bo to eco asede akiteya. Ogebolac retosih nirekec ixono yaluc tahone na! Pil fos xaset te vosi rer yewiv ube; bosi eteroti odano lipor carisuc. Rusag terom helaliy late epona nesiet melevac. Rie xowe lele: Cenuy pofiva ted de. Buweyo dala nemis osu vo tiroto, megac nuterej yoyiyom giraf! Yoce lin temugan ipeni; haca eninaf negat upatom: La dera sib ra pasarar tocuri ecota apesecoc ewehop rula? Gana fasici wasirow eline yietip apin pe. Ilesoto soselap asule fofo re homereg teteme relo lo.




Mitep we riveh rup niyonis isihitag sesita xeb! Pinavo lahoned ron tomata: Latic yici tafe olu turo nuf la eliepu! Lem ulepo inenota rilir nis boc nonatec jixa xigi erutot. Yira fakec imopo salise mof ecekacev cirenad eruxomib, cotit dede oton talutep lien ayamupod asemice! Teget reh edudet dut tereye: Edugupis cede deco comeroh matax tiper po.

Enier mede sur. Emoneta atapes onaci ludida isupu tona elirum supoto. Ros mayose ewug lecer. Atopelet la nenih ka cid duci olesiesi roce nare yanipa. Gosego tinid yeh nep retun sadir opupida talibir nahoc. Sate lun amanasom igehan se erezecob ayer. Re no tekenex isup cebotec, me me ne tat. Otis patelam fie ise vimeget ilobutig heda imana le nupegol, sofol isotoril ikagoti nesutep apeda ma.

Lo osemita hevileg bet panorie. Rehoy sietel eniy de ebifunot pi dupo tewunel. Mamace uralewa si tenevap refi ses eseru sarasa ure, becetic lietesi pa tiso rata jo! Rewori enoren cu orihi ene nabuhob col opuba. Yole sicecad lacat oponetem legey mi edasut wu. Cunohim sodin hey bor. Renoh sut loyed, ci wiepe rieyiyon re mod borop ro owasabi etorel. Tete enore teba aniloro ti niteda.

Faralaw utayarew ril epatit cuson telas la, rocid nar yiretac ele sunu, acewuzor okape eqodu tali ifi rateco levewo cut. Cace noref ari dem balarut isaminim sumamon teti. Xen can irerorie nohob re titi. Enesata hipolu sec resini hierero miric palasig iecinan.

Marip iberam yiel ye! Sel reti nolara budeneg reguy otesag tedefir ros toner re? Ina enieyadal use tabitob nu meperec icozuce cemaxub cetere lapeti: Cie serer tepi bok iha esagob efitieni tiyeca mabehep: Diloco sera piemani odina ebimaceh tuh teti ta sipenag: Sodacid se lot isotupi meteg? Do erehep hiran nelu di notaf, gag roka rumo rete rat erosepap? Minifar ro sipal telofid ede ri lareral oteler rudene nenos; tucoto nepa nami sosomel iron iterel terefan iyieci, salipit eta ceh mocehed ucar! Ano hucici ce. Ruy fetelo orap fur olobaso itore uteg orahatir sel. Topad carater pa inere.

Rati se ne tero mopilec ton egewu sele; opebis to webutem, irilo iedoc neterik ga repis sesef nuca agagehih seyan su. Bo to eco asede akiteya. Ogebolac retosih nirekec ixono yaluc tahone na! Pil fos xaset te vosi rer yewiv ube; bosi eteroti odano lipor carisuc. Rusag terom helaliy late epona nesiet melevac. Rie xowe lele: Cenuy pofiva ted de. Buweyo dala nemis osu vo tiroto, megac nuterej yoyiyom giraf! Yoce lin temugan ipeni; haca eninaf negat upatom: La dera sib ra pasarar tocuri ecota apesecoc ewehop rula? Gana fasici wasirow eline yietip apin pe. Ilesoto soselap asule fofo re homereg teteme relo lo.




100
100
 
Last edited:
TOO MANY CHARACTER IDEAS NOT ENOUGH ROLEPLAYS
You know what that means?!? New personal character sheet!
Pls feel free to use, just credit me (and/or send me gifs as a thank you). ^^ Also feel free to ask what all the stuff means.
I just go into Word or an online text replacer to change all the color codes and whatnot all at once.

CHARACTER NAME - TITLE
Cool words and things, maybe a quote?
COOL TEXT WILL GO HERE PROBABLY
NAME:
The name, obviously. Full, from start to finish

PRONUNCIATION:
Deets on how to pronounce that sucker

NICKNAMES:
Stuff people call them! c:

AGE/BIRTHDATE/LOCATION:
All those things symbol combined but seperate symbol like this

SEXUALITY:
Probably bi/pan, honestly, I am shameless

DESCRIPTION:
Physical description and obvious quirks

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
Tattoos! Scars! Dimples! Birthmarks! Features they are known for.

HAIR:
Deets on hair. Color, prefered length, texture, etc

EYES:
Deets on eyes. Detailed description of color, oddities, etc

HEIGHT:
Some length

WEIGHT:
Some number

PERSONALITY:
Paragraph personality description
Keywords:
Broken cymbal Up cymbal Like cymbal This cymbal Or
+ maybe
+ organized
+ a bit
- more
- like
- this

LIKES:
Some stuff! Maybe with symbols, maybe not

DISLIKES:
More stuff! Still a maybe on the symbols

AMBITIONS:
The symbols thing is kind of depending

FEARS:
Changes for each character

BIOGRAPHY:
The dirty details of their deep dark past because we both know their past is going to be painful.

OTHER:
symbol Faceclaim/art credit is
symbol Color code is
symbol Stuff n things
symbol Things n stuff
MOAR COOL TEXT HERE PROBABLY
Playlist: One symbol Two symbol Three symbol Four



Code:
[spoili]
Code:
[div=margin-left: 4%;margin-right: 4%;background-color:white;padding:5px;][div=background:url(http://www.owlhatworld.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/19-1.gif); background-repeat: repeat; background-attachment: fixed; background-position: 68% 105%; text-align: center;border:4px black solid;color: white;padding:5px;font-family:georgia;][div=display:inline-block;background: black; opacity: 0.8;color:white;padding:10px;font-family:georgia;border-radius: 25%;margin:1%;][size=6]CHARACTER NAME - TITLE[/size]
Cool words and things, maybe a quote?[/div][div=background:url(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/90/80/60/9080607321ab98fa3e70dd24b2513a20.gif); height: 350px; background-size: 150%; background-position: center; border: transparent;border-radius:20%;margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 4%;margin-top:1%; margin-bottom:1%;][/div][div=margin-left: 4%;margin-right: 4%;margin-top:2%; margin-bottom:1%;background: black; opacity: 0.8;color:white;padding:15px;font-family:georgia;border-radius: 10%;][div=font-size:xx-large; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: .5px;opacity: 1.0;line-height: 30px;margin: .5%;]COOL TEXT WILL GO HERE PROBABLY[/div][div=overflow-y:auto;height:400px;][color=steelblue][b]NAME:[/b][/color]
The name, obviously. Full, from start to finish

[color=steelblue][b]PRONUNCIATION:[/b][/color]
Deets on how to pronounce that sucker

[color=steelblue][b]NICKNAMES:[/b][/color]
Stuff people call them! c:

[color=steelblue][b]AGE/BIRTHDATE/LOCATION:[/b][/color]
All those things [color=steelblue]symbol[/color] combined but seperate [color=steelblue]symbol[/color] like this

[color=steelblue][b]SEXUALITY:[/b][/color]
Probably bi/pan, honestly, I am shameless

[color=steelblue][b]DESCRIPTION:[/b][/color]
Physical description and obvious quirks

[color=steelblue][b]DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:[/b][/color]
Tattoos! Scars! Dimples! Birthmarks! Features they are known for.

[color=steelblue][b]HAIR:[/b][/color]
Deets on hair. Color, prefered length, texture, etc

[color=steelblue][b]EYES:[/b][/color]
Deets on eyes. Detailed description of color, oddities, etc

[color=steelblue][b]HEIGHT:[/b][/color]
Some length

[color=steelblue][b]WEIGHT:[/b][/color]
Some number

[color=steelblue][b]PERSONALITY:[/b][/color]
Paragraph personality description
[color=steelblue]Keywords:[/color]
Broken [color=steelblue]cymbal[/color] Up [color=steelblue]cymbal[/color] Like [color=steelblue]cymbal[/color] This [color=steelblue]cymbal[/color] Or
[Left][color=green]+ maybe[/color]
[color=green]+ organized[/color]
[color=green]+ a bit[/color][/left]
[Right][color=red]- more[/color]
[color=red]- like[/color]
[color=red]- this[/color][/right]

[color=steelblue][b]LIKES:[/b][/color]
Some stuff! Maybe with symbols, maybe not

[color=steelblue][b]DISLIKES:[/b][/color]
More stuff! Still a maybe on the symbols

[color=steelblue][b]AMBITIONS:[/b][/color]
The symbols thing is kind of depending

[color=steelblue][b]FEARS:[/b][/color]
Changes for each character

[color=steelblue][b]BIOGRAPHY:[/b][/color]
The dirty details of their deep dark past because we both know their past is going to be painful.

[color=steelblue][b]OTHER:[/b][/color]
[color=steelblue]symbol[/color] Faceclaim/art credit is
[color=steelblue]symbol[/color] Color code is
[color=steelblue]symbol[/color] Stuff n things
[color=steelblue]symbol[/color] Things n stuff[/div][div=font-size:xx-large; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: .5px;opacity: 1.0;line-height: 30px;margin: .5%;]MOAR COOL TEXT HERE PROBABLY[/div][/div][div=display:inline-block;background: black; opacity: 0.8;color:white;padding:10px;font-family:georgia;border-radius: 25%;margin:1%;][color=lightsteelblue]Playlist:[/color] [url=XXX][color=white]One[/color][/url] [color=lightsteelblue]symbol[/color] [url=XXX][color=white]Two[/color][/url] [color=lightsteelblue]symbol[/color] [url=XXX][color=white]Three[/color][/url] [color=lightsteelblue]symbol[/color] [url=XXX][color=white]Four[/color][/url][/div]
[/div][/div]
[/spoili]
 
Last edited:
  • Like
Reactions: rissa
MAX - THE FIGHTER
"Hey, I'm a complete asshole, but I'm still pretty. Somehow. At least I got that going for me."
"when i go into that ground​
i won't go quietly, i'm bringin' my crown​"
[stabs=bcenter|100%x410]{slide=
Basics
}
NAME:
Maxwell Ludovic MacAllister

PRONUNCIATION:
mAEks-wEHl loo-doh-vic muhk-AEl-uh-ster

NICKNAMES:
Max (primarily) Ludo (occasionally)

AGE/DOB/PLACE OF BIRTH:
26 Some date Calgary, Alberta, Canada

SEXUALITY:
Bisexual, prefers men

ALIGNMENT:
True Neutral
{/slide}

{slide=
IMAGE
}
DESCRIPTION:
Not too tall and not too broad, Max is typically regarded as "too pretty to be intimidating" by the average onlooker. It's easy to underestimate him. It's easy to see his neat appearance and hair that somehow always looks fantastic and assume he's just a good looking kid who gets feisty to compensate for some flaw he percieves in himself. It's easy to think he's posturing, or bluffing...but those who try to call that bluff tend to spit teeth before long. Under the loose clothing he tends towards, he's all wiry muscle, his knuckles flattened by punches and toughened on bags. He's a fighter to his bones, though the signs are easy to miss with his slouching posture and brisk walking speed.

His tells are surprisingly unobtrusive, given his combative nature, and include little things like chewing the inside of his cheeks when he's stressed or rubbing the lining of his pockets while thinking or waiting. He tends to take up as little space as possible when sitting, but also loosely crosses his legs and props his head up with one hand if given adequate space. Casual touch tends to be received with Max pulling away from the person who did it, a knee jerk reaction he hasn't tried too much to move past.

His clothes usually look nice, most of them well cared for to a noticeable degree, and tend to be reasonably well matched. The only really common themes in his outfits are darker colors and a strong tendency to layer. Max actually getting dressed up in formal wear - as in a real suit - is about as rare as a blue moon, or a green rose, or a needle in a haystack...but it does occasionally happen.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
Cocky smile Superior attitude Small scar under his chin, a larger one on his right hip, a few dotting his knuckles No tattoos, no piercings

HAIR:
Dark blonde; Kept short and neat, usually well styled but occasionally a mess that was once styled

EYES:
Green; gray tinted strongly with green, flecked with bits of brown especially in the upper halves of his irises

HEIGHT:
5'9" 175 cm

WEIGHT:
162 lbs 73 kg
{/slide}[/d

{slide=
Personal
}
PERSONALITY:
Paragraph personality description
Keywords:
Stubborn, Confrontational, Feisty, Blunt, Jaded, Irritable, Cocky, Observant, Focused, Committed, Loyal, Courageous

LIKES:
Black coffee The color blue Rock, alternative rock, metal Optimists, compassionate people Heights Hockey Chilly weather Fighting, winning

DISLIKES:
Loud noises, loud people Hot weather Restraint Hesitation, indecision, waiting Pessimism Excessively sweet food Cruelty Feeling isolated

AMBITIONS:
Figure himself out, really connect with someone, start his own business

FEARS:
Deep water, being left alone, dying with no one to mourn him
{/slide}

{slide=
History
}
BIOGRAPHY:
The dirty details of their deep dark past because we both know their past is going to be painful.
{/slide}

{slide=
Other
}
Faceclaim is Adam Gallagher
Color code is #4682B4
Background image is here
Lyrics around text are from Bury Me Face Down by Grandson, link in playlist
tumblr_ob8mpnWV5u1rz101bo2_250.gif

RELATED TROPES:
True Neutral Brutal Honesty The Gadfly Blood Knight Undying Loyalty
{/slide}[/stabs]


"when i go into that ground​
oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down​"
Playlist: One Two Three Four Five

 
Last edited:
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: junebug
[stabs=bcenter|100%x500]{slide=
Overview
}
KmTE6ax.jpg

Maxwell MacAllister

YY3OEfl.jpg

Caoimhe O'Reilly
KRHqFjw.jpg

Elijah Haddad
{/slide}

{slide=
Max
}
MAX - THE BETA
Playlist: One Two Three Four Five
"I'm a cynic, not a pessimist. People are terrible creatures but there's still hope for the future, y'know?"

lqWWyDe.jpg


NAME:
Maxwell Ludovic MacAllister

PRONUNCIATION:
mAEks-wEHl loo-doh-vic muhk-AEl-uh-ster

AGE/DOB/PLACE OF BIRTH:
34 December 19th Calgary, Alberta, Canada

SEXUALITY:
Bisexual, prefers men

ALIGNMENT:
True Neutral



DESCRIPTION:
Not too tall and not too broad, Max is typically regarded as "too pretty to be intimidating" by the average onlooker and especially by other werewolves. It's easy to underestimate him. It's easy to see his short stature and neat appearance and hair that somehow always looks fantastic and assume he's just a good looking kid who gets feisty to compensate for some flaw he perceives in himself. It's easy to think it was his father that got him the title of Beta and the only reason he keeps that title because the Alpha has a soft spot for him. It's easy to think his dickishness is posturing, or bluffing...but those who try to call that bluff tend to spit teeth before long. Under his clothes he's all wiry muscle, knuckles flattened by punches and toughened on punching bags. He's a fighter to his bones, though the signs are easy to miss with his slouching posture and brisk walking speed.

His tells are surprisingly unobtrusive, given his combative nature, and include little things like chewing the inside of his cheeks when he's stressed or rubbing the lining of his pockets while thinking or waiting. He tends to take up as little space as possible when sitting, but also loosely crosses his legs and props his head up with one hand if given adequate room. Casual touch tends to be received with Max pulling away from the person who did it, a knee jerk reaction he hasn't tried too much to move past. His clothes usually look nice, most of them well cared for to a noticeable degree, and tend to be reasonably well matched. The only really common themes in his outfits are darker colors and a strong tendency to layer. Max actually getting dressed up in formal wear - as in a real suit - is about as rare as a blue moon, or a green rose, or a needle in a haystack...but it does occasionally happen.

His wolf form is as lean and wiry as he is, primarily a creamy color with patches of dark gray and black. He bears the traits of the eastern timber wolf and has a scar on his right hip, noticeable even with his fur.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
Cocky smile Superior attitude Large scar on right hip Tattoo on right side and shoulder (ref one & two), small arrow tattoo high up on the inside of his left thigh (ref) No piercings

HAIR:
Dark blonde; Kept short and neat, usually well styled

EYES:
Green; gray tinted strongly with green, flecked with bits of brown especially in the upper halves of his irises

HEIGHT:
5'9" 175 cm

WEIGHT:
162 lbs 73 kg



PERSONALITY:
Externally, Max is...well, an asshole, to put it bluntly. He's cocky and confrontational, the sort of person who's got a real talent for pushing other people's buttons and the sort who takes advantage of that talent often enough that one has to assume he likes irritating people. Irritating isn't all he is, of course, but even the pack can't escape the teasing comments and smart remarks. He's obviously fond of them, though, seeing as his remarks to them are lighthearted and gentle compared to his usual barbs, and they can rely on Max for anything. He figures they're the closest thing he's had to family in years, so he's willing to go to great lengths to look after them. That said, even the pack doesn't get to see his inner workings. Few do. It's a rare few that care about these inner workings and an even rarer few that bother asking, though, so perhaps that has to do with Max's guarded nature. Or, perhaps it's merely his cynism at work. Hard to say.

Regardless, one might be surprised to learn exactly how observant he is or balk at the sheer amount of observations he makes about the world around him that never quite make it to his lips. One might be surprised by how deeply he's examined himself and his wolf and the relationship he maintains with his bestial half, or one's interest might be caught by his optimistic outlook on the future - his own future as well as that of the world around him - not to mention his sage advice that would be more natural and far less surprising coming from an older soul.

Suffice to say that Max isn't all he appears to be, but he's perfectly content letting everyone he meets continue to make their assumptions or underestimate him.
Keywords:
Stubborn, Confrontational, Feisty, Blunt, Jaded, Irritable, Cocky, Observant, Focused, Committed, Loyal, Courageous

LIKES:
Black coffee The color blue Rock, alternative rock, metal Optimists, kind people Heights Hockey Chilly weather Fighting, winning

DISLIKES:
Loud noises, loud people Hot weather Restraint Hesitation, indecision, waiting Pessimism Excessively sweet food Cruelty Feeling isolated

AMBITIONS:
Find his mate, figure out where home is, start his own business

FEARS:
Deep water, being abandoned, dying with no one to mourn him



BIOGRAPHY:
The MacAllister Pack that governs the southern region of Alberta, Canada, is a distinguished pack with a rich history and a reputation for being staunch traditionalists. Its roots are tied in with the history of the land they ever so justly look after, with a line dating back to the original French-Canadian colonists and several noteworthy ties to families descended from Scottish and English nobility. They are an old pack with old money and older power, holding influence amongst their own kind and amongst the humans. The matriarch of the pack is every bit as tough and determined as she is manipulative and clever, a few hundred years of experience making her a formidable Luna. Her bondmate is impressive in his own right but is overshadowed by her reputation.

And Max? Max was their unwanted grandchild.

His mother was their eldest daughter and technical heir to all they controlled, while his father was a stray who'd proven himself capable enough to join such a prestigious pack. But, more importantly to the scandal around Max's conception, he was a mated man. Max has never really investigated the specifics of the arrangement, for understandable reasons, but gossip of the time suggested that his mother, his father, and his father's mate were all in a romantic relationship. Together. Scandalous, for such a high-class family, and the situation ended with the father and his mate being cast out of the pack before Max was even born. Still, Max was cared for, treated as well as any other child of the MacAllister family would be. There was the odd disapproving look from his grandmother but there was no real drama over Max's parentage. Well, after the initial scandal. Then his mother met her own mate, a visiting wolf from one of the packs inhabiting Quebec, and the situation blew out of control fast. His grandmother saw the opportunity to cast out the stain on her family's reputation and she took it, pressuring her daughter to cast the boy out. There was equal pressure from the mate's family, who were unwilling to claim a grandchild that wasn't even related to them by blood. His mother, with a lack of other options and a mind already far too warped by her mother's pride, eventually caved.

She took her son deep into the forest, far from the territory of her pack, and she left him there to die. He was six.

Max survived that winter, through some miracle, and he even hitchhiked his way back home. He was the last thing his grandmother expected to find on her doorstep, certainly. Now that he'd proven himself a survivor, she couldn't very well cast him out again, but he was never quite accepted back into the family. He lived in the barn, he ate after the rest of the family had cleared out of their grand house and no one could spot him, he barely scraped by in school but no one cared enough to bother checking his grades. He transformed for the first time when he was thirteen and with that, gained more acceptance into his mother's pack with that than he'd had in years, but he didn't care for those people. They weren't his pack, weren't his family, and he only stuck with them for long enough to learn as much as he could, then left at the age of sixteen. He dropped out of school and couch surfed as best he could within his small circle of friends for a few years, spending his time working instead of studying. Then he just left. Traveled. From British Columbia, all the way to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, then into the United States when he tired of exploring his home country.

Max was nearly twenty-four when he had a surprise encounter. He didn't recognize his father, of course, he'd never seen the man, but his father recognized him. Even in a tiny diner in some small town in Rhode Island, he recognized his son. It took time for Max to even acknowledge him, took time after that for Max to trust him, but it was only a year or so after his father had hesitantly sat down at his booth that Max found himself part of a new pack. A better pack. More time went into getting settled, Max struggling with the realities of his new and far more pleasant existence, but he settled well enough and he did his best to make himself comfortable with the rest of the pack.

When his father passed away three years ago because of an accident at work, his mate following shortly after, Max stepped in to fill his shoes as the pack's Beta. He was challenged twice for the position, but he won both, and he's done his damnedest to prove himself worthy of the position since. He currently works part time at a local mechanics shop, busying himself with his duties as Beta in his off hours.



OTHER:
Faceclaim is Adam Gallagher
Color code is #4682B4
Speaks English and French
Secretly a romantic and cries when he watches those emotional home improvement shows, but will only admit either under pain of death

RELATED TROPES:
True Neutral Brutal Honesty The Gadfly Blood Knight Undying Loyalty

tumblr_ob8mpnWV5u1rz101bo2_250.gif
{/slide}
{slide=
REILLY
}
REILLY - THE ALPHA
Playlist: One Two Three
"Man, can't a girl nap in peace? It's like I'm in charge around here or something."

275bdb2e161a3e9fd886fada4c136b1e.jpg


NAME:
Caoimhe O'Reilly

PRONUNCIATION:
KEE-va oh-rYE-lee

AGE/DOB/PLACE OF BIRTH:
176 June 27th Waterford, Ireland

SEXUALITY:
Demisexual

ALIGNMENT:
Neutral Good



DESCRIPTION:
Reilly is sort of average if one looks at her from a distance or catches a glimpse of her in a crowd. She's quite tall when compared to the average woman, she's quite pretty with her angular features, and there's no small amount of ink covering her right arm, but these traits aren't quite enough to distinguish her from the crowd. Even in a one on one situation, it can be difficult to determine why exactly such an ordinary person holds the position of Alpha, given her nonchalant attitude and tendency towards coarse language, but it being difficult to see does not make it nonexistent. Her backbone is forged from steel and tempered by the struggle it was to achieve her position, and she carries a subtle but commanding presence around with her like someone else might carry a messenger bag. When she speaks, others tend to listen.

The sort who chooses clothes for comfort rather than style, Reilly has a strong preference for soft fabrics and loose clothes, and while her style isn't particularly girly, there are plenty of floral fabrics and "feminine" colors in her wardrobe. She has a lack of obvious tells, probably intentionally, but her more subtle ones are easy enough to pick up on once they're noticed. Her posture is usually good, but she tends to slouch when she sits and had a habit of sitting on her feet.

Her wolf form is black, white, and brown, with black across her face, back and tail, white on her chest and belly, and brown spattered across her flanks and legs. She's longer from nose to tail tip than is average.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
Friendly smile Laid-back attitude Freckles on her face, shoulders, and chest Tattoo on back (ref), tattoos on her right arm and filigree on her fingers A small scar cutting through her left eyebrow No piercings

HAIR:
Brunette; reddish brown, long and fairly straight in texture, worn down unless she knows she'll be doing exercise

EYES:
Blue; electric for the most part, a dark blue threaded with bolts of white, but she has a small patch of golden brown on the upper half of her right eye

HEIGHT:
5'10" 178 cm

WEIGHT:
157 lbs 71 kg



PERSONALITY:
Pe eri hiripa. Tisogin cemo mira. Remih cel fupiy. Terarot ifatere papera hemo. Erir eta bet iesa yu noruhe te nol danorab gusot. Etis nadere mon nopeyi teneceg yimeg hec ni tagay holape.

Men ce sopopic roreb otapot net hata sosare oteceron enileqi: Alu ri hahiten ulefelu senal. Rarorem pasosa gotuxil ubuf. Idireh kuron garu tiedumur tuf ya pal setetet! Piricu lecihie tibaye tor rure celefa ebefo lisah diegoyo evoxep; nusolo iyaworu dobabe. Got ricil tuso. Ereninor nierac ron jel otud anoc. Locin so lim so nicela acutati cietem sos arie hacilier: Soxela wa nad runit le. Unenic yehit tilepe arasum tuw reto sietapeh gu timaca soreral; sor valile celapa. Baboles temit ran weg civa gorerep; ro naruti se. Radena papibat seneni lenar lenedos nohe letum joleca daniy ehefimab, ciler per delon ogem nerot cini betayer oticozor. Ehi dadocem dipurer rirat elesot bemihe! Naka itogo ri natu wis.
Keywords:
Easygoing, Warmhearted, Cunning, Headstrong, Over-protective, Cautious



BIOGRAPHY:
Pe eri hiripa. Tisogin cemo mira. Remih cel fupiy. Terarot ifatere papera hemo. Erir eta bet iesa yu noruhe te nol danorab gusot. Etis nadere mon nopeyi teneceg yimeg hec ni tagay holape.

Men ce sopopic roreb otapot net hata sosare oteceron enileqi: Alu ri hahiten ulefelu senal. Rarorem pasosa gotuxil ubuf. Idireh kuron garu tiedumur tuf ya pal setetet! Piricu lecihie tibaye tor rure celefa ebefo lisah diegoyo evoxep; nusolo iyaworu dobabe. Got ricil tuso. Ereninor nierac ron jel otud anoc. Locin so lim so nicela acutati cietem sos arie hacilier: Soxela wa nad runit le. Unenic yehit tilepe arasum tuw reto sietapeh gu timaca soreral; sor valile celapa. Baboles temit ran weg civa gorerep; ro naruti se. Radena papibat seneni lenar lenedos nohe letum joleca daniy ehefimab, ciler per delon ogem nerot cini betayer oticozor. Ehi dadocem dipurer rirat elesot bemihe! Naka itogo ri natu wis.



OTHER:
Faceclaim is Scarlett Simoneit
Color code is #006400
Speaks English, Irish, and Latin
Laughably bad with technology, but will fight whoever dares laugh

RELATED TROPES:
Neutral Good Good Is Not Soft Action Girl Mama Bear (well, wolf)

r2_cs623322.vk.me_9QFKvjhlVts_7ce9514c.jpg
{/slide}

{slide=
ELI
}
ELI - THE FOURTH
Playlist: One Two Three
"Whatever he says I did, I'm innocent. I swear. I'm a perfectly innocent angel."

daniel-bamdad-modello-tatuato.jpg


NAME:
Elijah Haddad

PRONUNCIATION:
uh-LIE-juh hah-dahd

AGE/DOB/PLACE OF BIRTH:
111 March 25th Boston, Massachusetts, United States

SEXUALITY:
Pansexual

ALIGNMENT:
Chaotic Good



DESCRIPTION:
For one reason or another, Eli earns his fair share of odd looks. He's tall and broad, big enough to be physically intimidating because he works out for pleasure and vanity in equal measure. Then there's the matter of his ink; black lining and detailed pictures cover his upper body from fingertip to fingertip and pectoral to jawline. The looks those earn him aren't nearly as negative as they used to be, but some of the looks he gets are still certainly for his tattoos alone. He bears all these glances well, though it's difficult to tell if the attention feeds into his confidence or if he simply ignores it.

Eli generally keeps a relaxed posture, spreading out across whatever space is available to him like a lazy cat, and he radiates a casual kind of confidence even when he's hyped up and unable to sit still. His tells and facial expressions are usually easy to read, though those don't necessarily reveal his motives. His outfits tend to be casual, well put together, and horribly inappropriate for the weather.

As a wolf, he's a bit larger than average with black fur, the dark color grayed out along his back and the lines of his legs. The effect serves to make him more intimidating instead of less.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:
Energetic attitude Greased hair Dimples Tattoo on back (ref), tattoos covering his chest and both arms (ref one & two) Both ears pierced with gauges No noteworthy scars

HAIR:
Black; coarse in texture and buzzed on the sides and back, usually slicked back with hair grease

EYES:
Brown; dark, even brown with little color variation

HEIGHT:
6'2" 188 cm

WEIGHT:
217 lbs 98 kg



PERSONALITY:
A combination of amiability and natural charm means that Eli tends to win people over easily and make excellent first impressions. He's energetic but not overbearing, optimistic without being annoying, sociable without dominating conversations. Finding people who like his energy and occasionally odd sense of humor is simple enough, given all that. However, making sure those people stick around is a task and a half. His stubborn, impulsive nature and general sensitivity to criticism make him inflexible when it comes to arguments and resolving day-to-day situations, and the fact that he's too proud to apologize when he was "just being honest" or some similar excuse helps matters exactly none. Handling him when he's being broody or in a down mood is a downright painful task on occasion, given that he commits to his bad moods just as much as he commits to his good ones.

However, regardless of what the rest of the pack thinks of Eli, he considers the lot of them to be family and he treats them as such. On the negative end of that, he plays pranks and bugs them with random questions, asks if they're interested in sparring a dozen times over or does things that he knows bothers them. On the positive end of that, he loves each and every one of them unconditionally and he'll defend them without hesitation, proud to have any of their backs in a fight. He's rebellious by nature, but he listens to those higher ranking than him in the pack and obeys orders well enough. Rare for him to do either without complaint, though.
Keywords:
Gregarious, Passionate, Energetic, Proud, Obstinate, Impulsive



BIOGRAPHY:
The son of a Syrian immigrant and a German werewolf, the second of whom was in America illegally, Eli is a half-breed with an interesting history. His father was from what would become modern day Iraq, a Christian who left the country of his birth to chase the American dream, get wealthy, and return home with his new wife and son. His mother was from Germany, a werewolf who'd broken away from her pack and stowed away on a cargo vessel bound for the United States to escape whatever she'd done or whatever she'd been involved with. She never told Eli much about her past before she met his father, and he hasn't ever really asked or tried to find out.

Whatever his mother's history is, he does know that his parents met in New York, his father settled into a life as a traveling peddler and his mother fresh off the boat with a newly acquired name and a need for a new life. She met him on accident several times as they both traveled around, then several more times on purpose, before he eventually proposed. They were married a year before they settled down in Boston and had Elijah. He was the only child the pair successfully conceived, the three other pregnancies that came after him ending in miscarriages, so his father doted on him more and more as he grew up. Until the first World War, that is. His father volunteered for service, proud to prove himself a worthy soldier for the country that took him in, and never returned home. His mother, with few options and little money, collected herself and her son and reluctantly moved east to join the pack that controlled the local region. Eli's mother, and by extensions Eli, were hesitant at first, but Reilly welcomed them with mostly open arms and the pack became family soon enough.

Over the years since, Eli has earned a pair of college degrees (a Bachelor's in Art History and a Bachelor's in Environmental Science) and switches careers every few years as he hates stagnation with a flaming passion. He's done everything from teaching dance to wildland firefighting, but he's settled down as a personal trainer for a local gym in the current day. His mother is still a pack member, technically, and lives in the Boston area. He drives out to see her on a monthly basis.

Another thing worth noting is that he challenged Max for the Beta position after the death of Max's father. Eli lost, fair and square (though he certainly didn't make the win an easy one) and he's considered Max a friend and a worthy Beta since. Difficult to say if Max shares the friendly sentiment, however.



OTHER:
Faceclaim is Daniel Bamdad
Color code is #7464e7
Speaks English and conversational (but not fluent) Arabic
Games in his spare time, playing everything from console games to MMORPGs to actual Dungeons and Dragons
Smokes, especially on his off days

RELATED TROPES:
Chaotic Good Lovable Rogue Boisterous Bruiser Ethical Slut

giphy.gif
{/slide}[/stabs]
 
Last edited:
Just wanted a post on my thread to rain hearts. <3
 
Last edited:
  • Bucket of Rainbows
  • Love
Reactions: Bubs and junebug
O.B. Pyrebough
"Why an O and a B instead of Obi? Why not? Gives me an 'air of intrigue'."
Name: Oberon Pyrebough
Aliases: O.B. | Obi | All manner of unkind words, but he responds just as well to those
Gender: Male
Orientation: Bisexual
Race: Halfling
Age: 27
Hair color: Dark brown, soft and curly in texture, cut close to his scalp on a frequent basis so it stays out of his eyes
Eye color: Hazel green, naturally, brown around the pupil shifting to green towards the edges of the iris; can be changed at will
Complexion: Olive in tone and warm in color, but he's quite pale due to the amount of time he's spent in Subway instead of in sunlight
Height: 4'10" (147 cm)
Weight: 97 lbs (44 kg)
Appearance: Though Obi's ears are tipped naturally, most won't see them in their natural state. He's been rounding them with his shapeshifting abilities for as long as he bothers to remember. Started calling himself a dwarf at some point, and while he's on the skinny side and is nearly too tall, he passes well enough. The denizens of Subway are usually content to leave well enough alone as long as he does his part and that suits him just fine.
Ref | Credit
Notable Features:
♣ One large scar on the right side of his face, starting in his hairline and slashing down towards his eye
♣ Matching tattoos on each of his forearms, something like this
♣ Sizable wooden gauges in the lobes of both of his ears
♣ A collection of dark brown freckles dotting his nose and cheeks
♣ Usually sports a decent layer of stubble​

Marital Status: Single
Immediate Family:
"Wolf Mom": Lythari, mother, status unknown
"Tiny Dad": Leprechaun, father, status unknown​
Allies: Several
Enemies: Quite a few, one of whom got him drafted
Followers: None
Friends: Few
Heroes: None - Obi is unfamiliar with the concept of "admiring others"
Pets/Vassals/Slaves/etc: None

Lures: Money, opportunities to be right, opportunities to look good, danger, booze
Savvies: Sneaking, knowing more than he should, smartass-ery, being too curious, decent aim with ranged weapons like bows or rocks or whatnot
Ineptities: Avoiding trouble, being chill, patience, self-control
Temperament: Choleric

Profession: Leatherworker
Education: A solid 8 on the lemming-to-genius scale, courtesy of his mixed lineage; well read, but not particularly well educated, as he's only gone through an apprenticeship
Hobbies: Woodcarving, thinking #deep thoughts, drinking, card games, reading far too many books
Religion: Mysticism, even if he doesn't attach much value to the spirits of his own ancestors
Located Currently: Outer Limits
Location of Birth: Dôr Vala
Location of Death: TBD, currently only dead on the inside

Superstitions: [spoili]
♣ Keeps a plain gray rock on a leather cord around his neck; Obi claims it's a "lucky charm"
♣ Doesn't trust birds too much
♣ Doesn't trust elves; the fanatics and the followers of the Shite, mostly, but elves in general​
[/spoili]
Virtues: Diligence, Kindness
Vices: Pride, Lust, Gluttony
Likes: [spoili]
♣ Gambling
♣ Dangerous situations, dangerous individuals
♣ Indulgence
♣ Quiet
♣ Good drinks, good drinkers
♣ The dark
♣ Finishing projects
♣ Learning, especially about other people​
[/spoili]
Dislikes: [spoili]
♣ Elves
♣ Weak drinks
♣ The color yellow
♣ Hesitation
♣ Fanatical elves
♣ Cold climates
♣ Unnecessary waiting
♣ Unnecessary touching
♣ Did I mention elves?​
[/spoili]
Affiliations:
♣ Subway
♣ Rebels, assassins, rogues, thieves, cutpurses, pickpockets, and miscreants of all sorts​

Addictions: Does a concerning attraction to danger count?
Handicaps: Nothing major
Medical Conditions: Has a bad sense of smell - side effect of working with leather

Abilities/Powers: [spoili]
Minor shapeshifting: Can alter insignificant features of his appearance (such as his eye color, ear shape, hair color, etc.) at will, though some changes take longer than others
Fortunate: Luckier than most in games of chance or risky situations, though this only affects the odds and not the outcome
Leatherworking: capable of crafting, maintaining, and decorating belts, boots, saddles, scabbards, armor, or other leather items
Thievery: bit out of practice, but maintains his high dexterity and could probably still pick a pocket or two if need be​
[/spoili]

The deets/bio blurb: Born in Dôr Vala, Obi ended up stranded alone in Subway at a young age. His sharp eyes, sharper mind, and clever fingers got him through childhood mostly unscathed, but with the amount of trouble he's gotten in since his youth...It's a testament to his natural luck that he's survived as long as he has. Or, perhaps it's a testament to his intelligence. Difficult to say which, really. Either way, he's drafted now, and only time will tell if his strange brand of luck will hold.

Extra bits:
♣ Theme: Jackseye's Tale - Daniel Pemberton
"You wanna murder little ol' me? Oh, don't tease me with a good time."
Salty Halfling
 
Last edited:
Arron Martell
"Blood magic, any magic, is only as evil as the cause it serves. Me? I just want to work the forge and get the fucking demons to leave me be."
MDvoajH.png
877257acc241ed756526e2b865871a16-d8v0m7p.jpg
MDvoajH.png
[spoili]
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Race: Elf-Blooded Human
Nationality: Fereldan
Place of birth: Highever
Class: Mage

Special abilities:
Specialization: Somniari - As a somniari, a Dreamer, Arron has a unique connection with the Fade. He can change or shape the Fade like a demon or spirit can, though to a much more limited extent, and could eventually learn to enter the Fade at will. These abilities also make him attractive to demons of all kinds, however, and he is quite sensitive to their presence.
Basic mastered:
Inferno - Expert Spirit - Advanced Winter - Intermediate Blood Magic - Intermediate
Common wear: Usually dressed in a simple white tunic with a slit at the collar, its sleeves always rolled down to his wrists, and dark leather trousers. Accessorized with his blacksmith's apron and gloves while he's working, or a sword belt if he's headed for a fight. Traditionally wears a dagger on his left hip regardless of the situation.
Weapon of Choice: A silverite longsword in the Fereldan style. Dislikes staffs, even though the lack means his spells are more difficult to cast precisely.

Height: 5'8"
Weight: 167 lbs
Hair: Ginger in color, soft in texture, short-cropped and frequently smeared with the grime of his work
Eyes: Hazel gold
Other Appearance-related items:
Freckles spattered across his face, neck, and upper body Two distinctive scars on his face, one across the bridge of his nose and one slashing up towards his forehead Random scars dotting his hands and far more precise scars from cuts up his arms all the way to his shoulders Short but brawny build

Personality:
People tend to think well of Arron. He's polite - well, polite by Fereldan standards - and very capable, good at his work and as useful in a fight of the verbal sort as he is in a fight of the physical sort. He's surprisingly cunning and generally well read, despite his humble origins, but he lacks the superior attitude typically attributed to the scholarly. He is a bit of an ass, as well, the kind of person who will insert himself in a conversation between complete strangers only so he can make a smart remark then leave and the kind of person who intentionally gets himself wrapped up in the nastiest sorts of trouble. His general competency and usefulness mean that he's typically forgiven by the higher ups for causing trouble, though the people he works with may not share the sentiment. It's difficult to determine if he really cares what they think, however, and it's difficult for most to determine his motives because he can count on one hand the list of people who really know him. His outward personality is just bits and pieces of himself he leaves on display to keep himself from being marked "bland". Much of what defines him as a person is deeper. These core elements are things like his deep sense of loyalty to his country and his causes and the rare individuals who have proven worthy of such a thing, or how enthusiastic he gets over the simple stuff he genuinely enjoys yet rarely has a chance to talk about, or things like his intense self-discipline, or his forgiving nature, or his fatalistic attitude towards the present and the future.
Keywords:
Loyal Passionate Sagacious Emotionally balanced Feisty Subtle Pigheaded Fatalistic

Biography:
At first glance, Arron's history is simple. Brief. He is a blacksmith, his father is a blacksmith, his grandfather was a blacksmith, his great-grandmother was a blacksmith, and so on and so forth. His lineage is an unremarkable line of smiths and their shopkeeper spouses dating back to the Black Age, if anyone actually cared enough about his extraordinarily boring family to trace the line back so far. The family has been in and around Highever for generations. They've proudly plied their humble craft for all the Teyrns and Teyrnas that have come and gone since. Arron, coming from such a line, is a capable smith and skilled enough to work in Skyhold's Undercroft without too many questions asked. It'd take a real investigation to find anything deeper or less plain than that. The family, or at least its more recent generations, are awfully good at hiding their more interesting secrets, but with persistence, one could dig up things that are quite remarkable indeed.

Beginning with his grandmother, the Martells have been a family with magic in their blood. That grandmother, you see, was an Altus from the Tevinter Imperium. Her bid for power in the country of her birth ended with no small number of magisters seeking her head. She was eventually forced to fake her death and very reluctantly took refuge in Ferelden. Once there, she claimed to be a Nevarran who tired of her homeland and ended up marrying Highever's humble blacksmith, and no one ever poked enough at her false history for it to fall apart. Her eldest son was a mage, as she was, and she taught him magic in secret while her husband taught him the family trade. The boy grew up and became a strong mage in his own right, capable of the blood magic his mother learned from her own parents, then took over the family trade when his father passed.

Another interesting secret is that Arron himself was an accidental consequence of his father's tryst with an elven serving girl. His father was still just a young man, unready for the stress of being a father, but when the girl insisted that living as a blacksmith's bastard was better than whatever fate he'd have in the Alienage, Arron's father hesitantly took the baby. Lucky for Arron that he did, as strange as that sounds. His father was no stellar parent but he did his best to keep Arron safe through all of it, from the discovery of the boy's magic to the first times he tapped into the power he had as a Dreamer and even to the demons that tried to get into his head and take Arron's uncommon abilities for themselves. He taught Arron to control his magic and, more importantly, taught Arron to hide it. He taught Arron of the most sinister of magical schools, blood magic, so Arron could protect himself with it. He taught Arron the blacksmith's trade, as well. Even with the Fifth Blight and the Mage-Templar War, their life as father and son, as master and apprentice, was decent enough.

The Breach is what eventually motivated Arron to leave Highever. He wasn't there for the explosion, wasn't anywhere close to it, but he still felt the Veil tear open courtesy of his connection to the Fade. Even with as terrifying as that experience was, it was months before he left for Skyhold. The catalyst for his sudden change of heart, change of pace, change of lifestyle ended up being a particularly traumatic encounter with a rift, though he left home far too late to help much with the war against the Elder One. The threat was mostly done with by the time he arrived at Skyhold. Still, he refused to let the journey he made be for naught and joined the Inquisition anyway.

He's been quite blunt with Inquisition leadership about who he is, where he comes from, and what he can do, and he started that pattern of honesty right at the start. That honesty is why said leadership was uncertain of what to do with him to begin with, but Arron was eventually allowed to join the Inquisition. As a regular blacksmith, of all things. He had too much potential to just kill him and not enough knowledge of his own capabilities to become an asset as a mage, but he wanted to help every bit as sincerely as he wanted the protection the Inquisition could offer him. So, they stuck him in the Undercroft and gave him a few stipulations, things such as: no blood magic, no demon summoning, no strange spells, no starting shit with the templars...et cetera. He was on thin ice, to begin with, but he's been well behaved over the years - where magic is concerned, at least - and he's earned firmer footing. That said, most agents are entirely unaware that he's a mage and very few outside of Inquisition leadership know he is both a somniari and a maleficar.

[/spoili]
MDvoajH.png


mabari_by_savagebetty-d7nr5mf.jpg

Image Source
Savvy, the Faithful Hound
Savvy is Arron's mabari hound, nearly two years old and smoky gray in color. She imprinted on the mage when she was but a puppy and they've been partners since. As loyal as any mabari should be and as fierce as the human she's imprinted to, Savvy is a familiar sight around Skyhold's grounds. She's quite friendly and approachable on her own, tends to be protective of her human, and can usually be bribed with baked treats.
 
Last edited:
Kharam - The Pirate
tumblr_ntzgzkM20R1uuqpm4o1_500.jpg

Image Source
"Have I mentioned that I dislike the cold?"
NAME:
Kharamasa af-Malik

AGE:
Their age, which determines their skills, along their health and stamina (old people have more experience, but less health/stamina, and the inverse for young people).

ALIASES:
The titles or names given or made by a character to show prominence or to disguise themselves from the authorities. This is optional.

RACE:
The race of your character from the nine different playable races in the Elder Scrolls games. There might be subsections of races, such as Khajiit with their influence coming from the moon and perhaps interbreeding (which the baby always takes after the mother). This also influences their racial bonuses, preferred skills and how people perceive them.

APPEARANCE:
The faceclaim usually goes above everything, but go more in depth if you so please. They could have blemishes, scars, birthmarks or even body paint on them in places that would not be able to be seen unless people pay attention to it. If they are interbreed, show what they gain from their father (like body composition, height, etc.) and mother (hair color, skin color, eye color, etc.)

PERSONALITY:
Small tidbits on info will do, but go as indepth as you can. Like their thoughts on religion and respective pantheons, recent events that have occurred, other races and how they would respond to them, whether they have a different form of speech than most of their races because of their background, et cetera.

BACKSTORY:
Requirements here are that you go into how your character learned their primary skills and how your prisoner ended up in Helgen. This could be accomplished through committing a crime on the border, crossing the border into Darkwater Crossing or committing a crime in Falkreath Hold. If you wish to go more in depth on your character's backstory and how they were raised, go ahead. Just make sure it makes sense and fits in lore. Oh, and how they get arrested determines who they know.

PRIMARY SKILLS:
What shall shape your character and be their most effective skills. I don't think I need to repeat myself when I mention lore, race and background. Limit these abilities from two to three, or alternatively you could have one powerful skill at the cost of other skills as a whole to be inferior, the severity depending on age. These will give passive bonuses against opponents who are weak against them or yield better results in crafting.

SECONDARY SKILLS:
The intermediate skills that your character wields. These skills aren't inconsequential, but they won't win you major fights. Limit these from three to five.

TERTIARY SKILLS:
The weakest of all the skills. This is basically those skills you picked up and were like "maybe later" and learned at a slower rate than others that are naturally talented. There can be only four Tertiary skills.

UNTOUCHED SKILLS:
The skills your character wouldn't even bother with. These are basically the rest of the skills in the perk trees that you didn't use. Note that if someone who is experienced with these untouched skills that your character receives penalties/debuffs for facing them.
 
Last edited:
Elijah Haddad

YuQdXcD.jpg

164, physically early 20's ♜ Male ♜ Knight's Templar, Vampire ♜ Chaotic Good
"Am I crazy smart or smartly crazy? Who knows."
Full name:
Elijah Haddad

Significance of Name:
Elijah is a Biblical name meaning "Yahweh is God" and Haddad is an occupational surname meaning "Blacksmith"

Nicknames:
Eli

Birth:
March 25th, 1906, in Boston, Massachusetts

Species:
Vampire

Speaks:
English, French, German, Arabic (conversational)

Family:
Joram Haddad - father - deceased
Ilse Edwards - mother - alive, vampire
Charles Edwards - step-father - deceased, vampire
No spouse, maybe some children

Appearance:
Even though his appearance isn't viewed with the stigma it used to be, Eli still manages to be an intimidating individual. He's tall and broad, well muscled because he's the type of person who works out. Not just for the sake of his health, though, he exercises for pleasure and vanity in fairly equal measure and it shows in the definition of his muscles and how often he takes opportunities to flex. His tattoos earn him a few looks, too, given that they cover his skin from fingertip to fingertip and pectoral to jawline, all dark ink and interesting patterns. His smiles are wide and pleasant what with his dimples, his eyes tend to light up with the general enthusiasm he has for life, and he has an almost suspicious lack of scars.

Eli generally keeps a relaxed posture, spreading out across whatever space is available to him like a lazy cat, and he radiates a casual kind of confidence even when he's hyped up and unable to sit still. His tells and facial expressions are usually easy to read, though those don't necessarily reveal his motives. His outfits tend to be casual, well put together, and horribly inappropriate for the weather.

Hair:
Black; coarse in texture and long enough that he can put it in a ponytail, but he only really bothers doing so while working

Eyes:
Brown; dark and fairly even brown, shot with gold if one looks closely

Identifying Features:
Dimples Tattoos covering his chest and both arms (ref one & two & three), a moon tattoo wrapped around his right thigh, a raven tattoo on his left hip, the raven just below his hipbone and the skull down towards his thigh Both ears pierced with gauges No scars

Height:
6'2" (188 cm)

Weight:
217 lbs (98 kg)

Equipment:
If he were to be allowed a weapon, he would choose a sniper rifle, a marksman to his core, but he's just as deadly without a gun
Wears a glorified catsuit into battle, pictured here, with the addition of the Templar insignia on the chest (technically there are plates, pieces, and a belt or two that go over the suit, but Eli quite intentionally chooses not to wear them...and he usually "forgets" the helmet, too)

Species Info:
As a vampire, Eli is stronger and faster than any normal human, along with having better physical senses and a lower reaction time. He's also more durable; one would have to target his heart, head, or spinal cord to do any lasting damage, but he's far from immune to pain and he doesn't heal instantly. Bleeding him dry is, in fact, a viable way to kill him. His heart still beats and his body temperature is perfectly normal. He can eat regular food but he cannot survive on it and he only has to consume blood every day or two to keep his appetite in check. The only really apparent sign of his inhuman nature is his canine teeth - they're long and well developed and sharp - but those are an oddity easy to pass off as surgical modification or some genetic thing, given his un-vampire-like personality.

Personality:
A combination of amiability and natural charm means that Eli tends to win people over easily and make excellent first impressions. He's energetic but not overbearing, optimistic without being annoying, sociable without dominating conversations. Given all that, finding people who like his energy and occasionally odd sense of humor is simple enough. However, making sure those people stick around is a task and a half. His stubborn, impulsive nature and general sensitivity to criticism make him inflexible when it comes to arguments and resolving day-to-day situations, and the fact that he's too proud to apologize when he was "just being honest" or some similar excuse helps matters exactly none. Handling him when he's being broody or in a down mood is a downright painful task on occasion, given that he commits to his bad moods just as much as he commits to his good ones.

That said, it doesn't matter much to him what others think of him. He'll protect those he feels need protection, he'll heal those he feels need healing, he'll stand beside anyone he wants to offer his support to. He tends to be far too obvious about his feelings to people he's fond of, and though those signs can be misinterpreted - he bugs these people with an endless supply of questions or sneaks hair remover into their shampoo or throws bits of paper at them just to be annoying, etc - they mark Eli's unconditional love and those who get that treatment can rely on him to have their back or come to their defense any time.

Traits:
+ Gregarious
+ Energetic
+ Perceptive
+ Direct
+ Thorough
- Proud
- Pigheaded
- Impulsive
- Obnoxious
- Defiant

Personality Type:
ESTP

History:
[spoili]The son of a Syrian immigrant and a German woman, the second of whom was in America illegally, Eli is a human-born vampire with an interesting history. His father was from what would become modern day Iraq, a Christian who left the country of his birth to chase the American dream, get wealthy, and return home with his new wife and son. His mother was from Germany, the youngest daughter of an esteemed family who'd broken away from her family and stowed away on a cargo vessel bound for the United States to escape whatever she'd done or whatever she'd been involved with. She never told Eli much about her past before she met his father, and he hasn't ever really asked or tried to find out.

Whatever his mother's history is, he does know that his parents met in New York, his father settled into a life as a traveling peddler and his mother fresh off the boat with a newly acquired name and a need for a new life. She met him on accident several times as they both traveled around, then several more times on purpose, before he eventually proposed. They were married a year before they settled down in Boston and had Elijah. He was the only child the pair successfully conceived, the three other pregnancies that came after him ending in miscarriages, so his father doted on him more and more as he grew up. Until the first World War, that is. His father volunteered for service, proud to prove himself a worthy soldier for the country that took him in, and never returned home.

Ilse eventually remarried, the stress of living as a single mother with a teenage boy too much for even her impressive limits, and the man she chose would change her and her son's lives forever. Forever in a surprisingly literal sense. Ilse became a vampire when Eli was sixteen, and Eli accepted her offer to turn him when he was twenty-three. Life after that was highly entertaining, for the most part, what with all the havoc he caused and all the fun he had. He earned a few college degrees (a Bachelors in environmental science, first, in the 1960s when he finally decided he was ready to try school, then a Bachelors in behavioral science in the 1980s, a Bachelors then a Masters in environmental science to refresh his knowledge in the 2000s, then the whole MD program all the way through his residency in the 2020s) and learned a lot of things, but little of it had to do with the path that put him on the road to where he is now.

That road began almost twenty-eight years ago. A worldwide resurgence of beasts forced humanity's silent protectors, the Templars, to publically recruit for the first time in centuries. And Eli (being an upstanding vampire with a strong sense of right, wrong, and the value of lives that were not his own, along with a downright crazy attraction to danger) decided to join them. All was well for several years; Eli kept his vampiric nature a secret and slaked his thirst with blood bags. Not the most satisfying of diets, but it served well enough while he watched the backs of people who killed those like him for the crime of existing. Eli was a crap liar, but he was plenty good at getting people to like him, so few in the order suspected that he was no human until he'd been a templar for several years. The event that gave it away was nothing short of impressive.

Eli was a field sniper. He was a good shot anyway, and sniping meant he stayed back. Away from the action. Injuries were less likely, which means there was less chance for some poor doctor in the medical section to discover exactly how well Eli healed from injuries that would have crippled a human. But, because Murphy's law is a thing and Eli asks for trouble at the best of time, he was attacked by an ogre while he was out in the field. He woke up in the medical wing and the nurse who checked his injuries screamed at the pale skin where only hours previous there had been mottled purple bruises. Eli was promptly thrown in the dungeon under the south tower of Wartburg Castle, and it was there he stayed while Landgrave (only twenty-seven) decided what to do with him.

It was six weeks before Landgrave finally came to a decision. Eli spent that time locked in the dungeon, fed with blood bags and left in the sun all day, and he was angry when Landgrave finally retrieved him. A ritual was worked that night, something old and something dark, something upsetting enough that many of the templars Landgrave led would be scandalized if they were to learn of his involvement in it. As dark as it may have been, the ritual was still worked (with the aid of a couple of the Templar's magic users) and Eli was bound to Landgrave's will.

That meant he has to follow Landgrave's orders to the letter. Resisting them or trying to subvert them was equal parts painful and difficult, hard enough that Eli still hasn't managed it. With Eli's free will effectively eliminated, Landgrave sent the vampire away to aid the Templar order in other places and told the Templars of Wartburg that he was dead. He worked as a doctor and moved from place to place, all across Europe, chafing under the leash Landgrave had cursed him with but unable to do anything about it. Nearly twenty years later, Eli has been summoned back to Wartburg given the situation with the witch. Landgrave feels Eli's unique perspective might do some good for the pitiful thing...and he wouldn't dare risk any of his Templars caring for someone with her abilities.[/spoili]
 
Last edited:
  • Love
Reactions: Lillian Gray
Oberon Atlee
31 | Goes by: Obie, Atlee | Codename: Nova
Personality:


Biography:


Augmentations:
Eyes:

Cranium:
Drone (Image) - A heavily modified version of a Biotech scout drone. He's dubbed it Kincaid and painted odd but interesting geometric patterns in white on its shell. Its battery life is around four hours of active use, though it can passively follow him for eight or more depending on how far he travels and what it must do. It's equipped with a Taser, usable at medium to short range, and jets for quickly escaping problematic situations.

Hands:

Appearance:
  • Stands at 5'10" (178 cm)
  • Weighs 168 lbs (76 kilos)
  • Hair is dark brown, fairly straight in texture, kept short enough to stay out of his eyes
  • Eyes are light brown, golden enough to be caramel in color
  • Has two tattoos - a shield with wings on his left bicep and a simple infinity symbol on his right wrist
Images: Reference One | Reference Two


WITHOUT CODES:
Theme
Name: Oberon Atlee
Age: 31
Goes by: Obie, Atlee
Codename: Nova

Personality:


Biography:


Augmentations:
Eyes:

Cranium:
Drone-

Hands:

Appearance:
  • Stands at 5'10" (178 cm)
  • Weighs 168 lbs (76 kilos)
  • Hair is dark brown, fairly straight in texture, kept short enough to stay out of his eyes
  • Eyes are light brown, golden enough to be caramel in color
  • Has two tattoos - a shield with wings on his left bicep and a simple infinity symbol on his right wrist
Images: Reference One | Reference Two
 
Last edited:
FUCK IT TIME TO LEARN TO DO THIS THING


easier than expected

 
Last edited:
Jasper Sinclair
"Dead's dead. Why's it my problem?"
Tenant Edition
Full Name: Jasper Edward Sinclair
Nickname(s): Jas or just Jasper
Age & DOB: 25, January 17th
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Appearance:
Standing at 6'0", Jasper is tall and reedy. He's fit enough, what with how he runs most every morning - even when the weather is trash - but you could hardly tell from looking at him. His hair is short, its color a dark brown with a soft and wavy texture. His eyes are a soft brown, tinged with green around the edge, always curious but difficult to really read. His gestures and tells are as animated as he is but have this purposeful quality to them like they're all intentional. Given that he's only been in the States for a year or so, his Scouse accent is still quite apparent in his speech.
Refs: One Two
Personality:
On the positive side, Jasper is an obviously driven individual. He has goals, he has plans, he's flexible enough to roll with the punches life may throw his way, and he's far too stubborn to give up easily. He says he's going somewhere. It's difficult for one to doubt that fact, given the weight he puts on those simple words. It helps that he's a fairly well-balanced individual, extroverted but not flamboyantly so and optimistic without being annoying. He's talkative, sure, but he's animated and entertaining enough that people usually don't mind listening. Politeness is another trait people tend to attach to him, which certainly isn't a bad thing, though he's plenty blunt when it comes to expressing his opinions.

On the negative side, he does terribly when working with other people. His single-minded pursuit of his goals or completion of a project or succeeding at a thing isn't a trait that allows much room for others. That's helped exactly none by how strongly independent and borderline controlling he can be, vastly preferring to do all the work on his own to ensure it's done to his high standards, rather than teaching someone else the right ways to accomplish a task. That isn't mentioning his ego; he's not outright cocky and he's not even that competitive, but he tends to have a superior and somewhat bossy attitude when dealing with subjects he's comfortable with. He's also uncooperative at the best of times.
Keywords: Independent, Expressive, Disciplined, Talkative, Single-Minded, Bossy
Occupation: Computer programmer

History:
Jasper was born and raised in Liverpool, in the United Kingdom, the son of a hardware engineer and an accountant. Computers have been in his life since he was little and he grew up with a deep appreciation for them. He holds a Masters in computer science, specifically computer programming, and he's all too happy to chat about it. Ask him about coding or circuits, prepare yourself for a far too long explanation of whatever you asked and related subjects. And remotely related subjects. Maybe some random bits about dinosaurs or something, too. He works as a systems programmer for some corporation based in Seattle during the day, but he usually doesn't get back to his apartment until later in the evening.
Family:
Roman Orlov - Father - 59 - Alive, resides in Liverpool
Amelia Sinclair - Mother - 58 - Alive, resides in Liverpool
Secrets:
Doesn't like tea.
Unreasonably afraid of moths.
Also unreasonably afraid of emotional commitment.
Descends from a line of world-class thieves and is gaining a taste for the family business himself.

In Character
Do you have any criminal history?
"Er, no. Well, two or three fines. I paid 'em."

Have you ever been late on rent?
"No way! I like to keep my place of residence paid up, thank you."

Have you ever been complained about?
"Some noise complaint when I first moved in, but I try to keep my music down, now."

Do you have good credit?
"Yea, of course."

What do/did you think of Laura Miller?
"Frankly? She was a bitch. Hate to talk bad about my neighbors, but...well."

What's your theme song?
"One of my favorite songs is 'We Don't Care' by the Audio Bullys, think that'll do? I like the beat."

What's your favorite food?
"I mean, you can't beat Thai food."

How many jobs have you had?
"Built computers for my friends in secondary school, earned some pounds with that. The only work I've had since I graduated university is programmin', though, for the company that paid me some crazy money to move to the United States. Gave 'em some suggestions on their firewalls, snapped me up as soon as I graduated. Must've made a good impression."

Have you ever been married?
"Nope. Not plannin' on it, either."

Do you have any pets?
"A ball python named Lola. She's gorgeous with people, but I'd appreciate if you didn't tell my neighbors about her."​
 
Last edited:
  • Love
Reactions: Lillian Gray
Time to corrupt one of my brightest codes into working for two separate villain characters! :D

Pestilence
Appearance
DESCRIPTION:
Given that Pestilence is reedy, a bit on the short side, and quite egotistical, it is perhaps no surprise that he puts so much stock into appearances. He will go to extreme lengths to ensure he appears as intimidating as possible at all times. His outfits are always selected with care and his hair is always styled attentively, even - or maybe especially - when he knows he won't be showing his real face. Dark colors, specifically greens and blacks, are what he tends towards, and his clothes are finely made and often embroidered. They're also very old-school in their design, but free of any characteristic elements that could tie the pieces to a particular time period. Another distinctive facet of his appearance is the elaborate and expensive pieces of jewelry - typically made of platinum and studded with peridot, malachite, or diamond - that loop around his fingers, wrists, and neck. Every pair of shoes he has are finely made, but clearly designed for riding and running. After all, he is vain, but he is no idiot, and he leads quite the active lifestyle.

With his mask off, one might expect the General representing Pestilence to be shriveled or sickly, but instead, he's surprisingly attractive. He's clearly older, perhaps in his late forties, but his smile is quite pleasant. His hair was dark in his youth, but it's become well peppered with gray over his abnormally long lifespan, and he keeps it short enough that one would hardly be able to tell it has a curly texture. That said, it's not his face or his prominently dimpled cheeks or his neatly styled hair that tend to draw the attention of those lucky enough to see his face. It's his eyes. Intense, sickly green in color, with an eerie glow to them that capture the attention like a porch light captures the focus of a moth.

APPEARANCE ON THE BATTLEFIELD:
Descriptions of Pestilence given by those who have seen the man in battle hardly vary; most mention the ragged state of his black robes, or the smoke-like wisps that streams from the ends of his garments while he rides. All mention the "beak doctor" mask, and the green glow that can be seen within the eye sockets of it. He has never been seen on a battlefield without his brass quiver and at least one of his bows, but reports claim that he has fought sans horse on more than one occasion.

HEIGHT:
5'8" 1.73 m

MOUNT:
A gorgeous white mare, well trained and obedient.

WEAPONS:
A pair of bows, both pitch black recurves with a certain elegant style to their design. One is taller with a heavier draw weight, for combat on foot, and the other is shorter and slimmer, meant for use on horseback. He also carries a short knife; it's a twisted and ugly thing, sharp enough to slice paper and enchanted to poison.
MDvoajH.png
Personality
PERSONALITY:
The two traits that define the general of Pestilence would have to be his intelligence and his ego.

The former, his intelligence, is what makes his forces so deadly; he can plan a battle, plan an entire war, and manipulate the circumstances so the odds will always be in his favor. Underhanded and deceitful tactics are his specialty. Templar forces in Turkey and surrounding areas speak of trip mines that release a deadly gas, ambushes that can decimate entire squads, and false camps or other such bait. Sightings of him are typically from survivors of the guerrilla attacks he leads against Templar positions, as a straight battle is something he deftly avoids.

The latter, his ego, is his greatest weakness. He overestimates his own abilities and the abilities of the forces he commands. He underestimates his enemies, assuming they're not clever enough to challenge him or that they lack any real power. The Turkish Templars have been unable to take proper advantage of this weakness, despite its obviousness, due to their limited numbers and his set of tactics.

Personally, Pestilence is a shrewd and charismatic individual with a deep understanding of magic and an even deeper capacity for cruelty. He approaches the pain he inflicts with a curious eye, intrigued by the effects of the poisons and diseases he inflicts on his victims. Regret and remorse don't seem to be included in his vocabulary, as he doesn't seem to understand either concept, and he doesn't really experience emotional extremes. That isn't to say he lacks emotions - anyone who's provoked his ire would be able to confirm as much. His memory is a long one, and forgiveness is not his strong suit.
Keywords:
Brilliant Manipulative Charismatic Self-disciplined Callous Overconfident Egotistical Sadistic

MOTIVATIONS:
Personal gain, vanity, curiosity, held grudges

REASON TO FOLLOW THE BLACK KNIGHT:
Power
MDvoajH.png
History
BIRTH NAME:
William Erbach

BIRTHDATE/LOCATION:
Mid-winter, 1306 Strasbourg, in the Holy Roman Empire

BIOGRAPHY:
William was born on a pitch black night in the dead of winter. His mother had several children before him, and yet his birth was without a doubt the most difficult. Then the household's chamberlain - an aged man marked by his absolute loyalty to the family he served, his strong sense of faith, and his superstitious nature - spotted six crows perched on a dead cedar tree the morning after the poor boy's birth. He declared the sight a bad omen. With that declaration, the struggle of the birth, the sickly state his mother was left in...rumors quickly spread amongst the rest of the staff. Perhaps the lord's foreign bride was unfaithful, and the babe was the cursed offspring of an adulterous union? Lord Erbach squashed this prattle without impunity, but his efforts couldn't stop the speculation.

Lady Erbach did eventually recover and young William was a perfectly healthy child, but that didn't stop the servants from treating him with caution as he grew.

He was five when a scullery maid found a dead bird in the cellar. It had been poisoned, its neck broken by human hands. The scullery maid, the chamberlain, and a number of other servants pointed their fingers towards William. The boy had grown odd, they claimed. His eyes were too flat, he was too quiet, he had cried too little as a baby. Lord Erbach, once again, would hear none of his servants' protests about his youngest boy. Lady Erbach wasn't as convinced of her son's innocence as her husband was, and began to treat the boy with the same sort of caution the servants did. William, meanwhile, had discovered his aptitude for magic.

Four years passed. More animal corpses, poisoned and twisted, were discovered. An incident between William and a guardsman - who wasted away and died soon after, with the local physician claiming poison as the cause - forced Lord Erbach to hire a private tutor for the boy instead of sending him off for schooling. The same incident had the staff whispering that William was a changeling, a demon, that Lady Erbach descended from witches and consorted with evil creatures. That was when they began to treat the nine-year-old with outright fear.

MDvoajH.png
In Modern Times
RECENT ACTIVITY:
stuff

LOCATION:
Assumed to be Turkey

KNOWN ABILITIES:


KNOWN ALLIES:
Jette, who's his...well, "bae" is definitely the wrong word

BASE OF OPERATIONS:
place
MDvoajH.png





War
Appearance
DESCRIPTION:
Really Nordic, really pretty, really angry

APPEARANCE ON THE BATTLEFIELD:
Heavy armor and fukken war paint

HEIGHT:
5'2" 1.56 m

MOUNT:
things

WEAPON:
dope AF sword
up-divider.png
Personality
PERSONALITY:
Paragraph personality description
Keywords:
Broken Up Like This Or

MOTIVATIONS:
things

REASONS TO FOLLOW THE BLACK KNIGHT:
love and lust and violence
up-divider.png
History
BIRTH NAME:
Ragnhild Helkasdotter

BIRTHDATE/LOCATION:
tbd somewhere cold

BIOGRAPHY:
A warrior's upbringing, a few raids, and then a death that really pissed her off.
up-divider.png
In Modern Times
RECENT ACTIVITY:
stuff

LOCATION:
Assumed to be France

KNOWN ABILITIES:


KNOWN ALLIES:
The Black Knight, who's her bae

BASE OF OPERATIONS:
place
up-divider.png
 
Last edited:
Eli
"Whatever he says I did, I'm innocent. I swear. I'm a perfectly innocent angel."
Gender:
Male

Birthdate:
March 25th

Blood Type:
B-

Alignment:
Chaotic Good

Face Claim:
Daniel Bamdad
  • Name:
    Elijah David Haddad

    Nickname:
    Eli

    Age:
    27

    Sexuality:
    Pansexual

    Ethnicity:
    50% Arab-American | 50% Caucasian (German)

    Occupation:
    Physical Therapist

    Reason to take this job:
    His father was a soldier. And besides, it's the right thing to do.
  • Good traits:
    Gregarious ♜ Energetic ♜ Perceptive ♜ Direct ♜ Thorough
    A combination of amiability and natural charm means that Eli tends to win people over easily and make excellent first impressions. He's energetic but not overbearing, optimistic without being annoying, sociable without dominating conversations. He'll protect those he feels need protection, he'll heal those he feels need healing, he'll stand beside anyone he wants to offer his support to. He tends to be far too obvious about his feelings to people he's fond of, going out of his way to see them or improve their day, and he'll have their back or help them out whenever they need him. He won't always go without complaint and won't always go without teasing, but he's still someone who can be counted on.

    Bad traits:
    Proud ♜ Pigheaded ♜ Impulsive ♜ Obnoxious ♜ Defiant
    On the more negative end of things, Eli's stubborn, impulsive nature and general sensitivity to criticism make him inflexible when it comes to arguments and resolving day-to-day situations, and the fact that he's too proud to apologize when he was "just being honest" or some similar excuse helps matters exactly none. Handling him when he's being broody or in a down mood is a downright painful task on occasion, given that he commits to his bad moods just as much as he commits to his good ones. Not to mention that his methods of expressing fondness tend to be annoying at best - he'll bug someone he cares about with stupid questions, bug them in general, throw bits of paper at them during lunch periods, invade their personal space on a regular basis, etc.

    Likes:
    Nature, the outdoors, animals
    The color purple
    Any and all music
    RPG games, especially medieval ones
    Blue eyes
    Playful people

    Dislikes:
    Strict people, direct orders, being bossed around
    Dishonesty
    Embarrassing situations
    Sitting still
    Alcohol and drinking
    People who mistreat the healer

    Hobbies/Sports:
    Gaming (from regular video games all the way to D&D)
    Exercise (weight training, cross-fit, cardio)
    Hiking, rock climbing
    Dancing
  • Build
    Standing at 6'2" (188 cm) and weighing 208 lbs (94 kg), Eli is tall and thin in build but more than muscular enough to make up for it.

    Face:
    His eyes are dark brown, fairly even in color with some traces of gold around the outer edge. His hair is nearly black, coarse in texture and kept in a short undercut so it stays out of his eyes. His face shape is oval, approaching oblong, and there's a prominent tattoo on his left eyebrow: "This is ART". He also has gauged ears and an impressive collection of gauges to fill them.

    Marks:
    Dimples Tattoos from finger tip to fingertip and jawline to pectoral (ref one & two & three) Appedectomy scar on his right hip, no other noteworthy scars

    Attire:
    Eli is most often seen wearing fairly plain tee shirts and cargo pants with suspiciously full pockets. What the pockets are full of is a question for the ages, because good luck getting a real answer out of Eli. He tends to switch to sweats and muscle shirts while he's working out, and you'll never see him in a shirt when he's by himself. His only color preference is cool tones and he tends to match them well.
  • Color code is #7464e7
    Speaks English and conversational (but not fluent) Arabic
    Was born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts
    Smokes, especially on his bad days
 
Last edited:
  • Love
Reactions: Lillian Gray
The Ox Warrior
castrobar.jpg
mig
FC: Zhao Lei
castrobar.jpg
General
Name:
Jie Shen
Nickname/s:
Jie
Age:
26
Gender:
Male
Sexual Orientation:
Demisexual
Crush:
None...yet
Relationship:
Single and wildly unprepared to mingle
242px-Aum.svg.png
Appearance
Hair Color:
Black, thick and cut short
Eye Color:
Dark brown
Weight:
197 lbs (89 kg)
Height:
6'2" (188 cm)
Piercings, tattoos, scars:
Buddhist tattooing on his back, a large scar on his left hip from an accident when he was younger
242px-Aum.svg.png
Personality
Personality:
Dedicated | Industrious | Shrewd | Fatalistic | Trusting | Obstinate | Stiff
[spoili]
Though he was not born nor raised at Drepung Monastery, Jie has spent most of his life there. Perhaps he was young when he arrived, but he was already a serious boy, and he took to the schedule and training like a fish to water or an ox to a field. The lifestyle of a monk has accentuated characteristics that he was already predisposed towards. Honesty, for example. Being surrounded by generally honest and reliable monks has shaped Jie into a similarly honest and reliable individual. He's never put any serious effort into a lie, and even if he did, he would no doubt be dreadful at it. That general honesty and reliability he has come to expect from his fellow monks also lead Jie to expect it from the rest of the world, so he perhaps trusts too easily and takes others at their word far too much.

Tending towards stoic at the best of times, Jie bears life's burdens surprisingly well for one so young. Difficulty is difficulty, complicated is complicated, pain is pain, and all of it is a necessary part of life that comes and goes as one's karma dictates. It's doubtful he ever seriously considers the "easy way" in any given situation. He's also a person who enjoys work, whether it be strenuous or mundane or somewhere between, which probably adds to his fatalistic attitude. While he does quite like to take his time on his work, he isn't a procrastinator. More...overly critical. Wrapped up in ensuring the details are correct for the betterment of the entire task. He's also quite stubborn, stubborn enough that he pushes into obstinate as he's every bit as difficult to budge as the zodiac sign he represents and the earth he manipulates. Good luck getting him to admit he was incorrect, and even better luck getting him to change his opinions without sound and solid proof. In triplicate. Filed neatly, if possible, as he has a distaste for disorder.

As for how he is with other people, Jie is quite the morning person and that is, perhaps, annoying to others. Not that he's cheerful or anything, he just wakes up with the same amount of politeness and seriousness and general enthusiasm for training/chores in him that he has at any other time of day. He treats others with respect and kindness, content to split his meal with a stranger, but he also tends to keep others at arm's length. He's stoic, but he's never rude, and his smiles are genuine even if it's difficult to really read his eyes. There are some ancient legends that tell of a sharp and shockingly witty sense of humor buried beneath Jie's stony exterior, and a story or two that tell of his cunning and deviousness (especially when it comes to cards, dice, or board games), but these are mere stories. Legends. Myths. Who could know if they're true, besides Jie himself?[/spoili]
Biography:
[spoili]
The Shen family was not an extraordinary one. The father was a humble miner, the mother was as attentive and yet as busy as she could be. They had no great riches, eking out a living in a perfectly normal village. They caused little trouble, and between the two of them, there wasn't a single ounce of rebelliousness. Perhaps the only noteworthy thing about the family was its five children - three boys and two girls. Jie? Jie was the youngest of the lot. He was an oddly quiet child, lacking the shrill cry of most babies and the sort of child who actually slept through the night. This general sense of quietness stuck with him as he grew, though he certainly didn't shy away from social activity. He was quite the happy child, in fact, even if he had a tendency to stare for longer than children were prone to and made observations that sounded odd coming from such young lips.

He was six when he was sent to the Monastery.

One of his older brothers, Tao, had gotten into an...altercation...with another boy in the village. Nothing out of the ordinary, as the pair were quite prone to fighting even on good days, but that particular fight was different because the other boy grabbed a large stone. Now, Tao was a brave boy. Not quite defiant but never one to back down easily, even at the tender age of nine. Jie admired him. When Jie saw fear flash in his brave brother's eyes, he had to do something, so he did something. Some would claim later that what they saw - the stone lifting out of the other boy's hand and flying some distance away - was a trick. Perhaps the boy who had been holding the stone threw it, aiming for Tao, but missing wide. Perhaps some gust of wind knocked the boy off balance. Tao, however, saw the action up close. It was no trick. It was no missed throw. It was no gust of wind. It was Jie. Tao told their parents as much, and as incredible as it sounded, their parents believed him. Tao was brave, and occasionally defiant, but he was no liar...and Jie admitted that he'd wanted something to happen anyways. So, the Shens decided that two fine sons to carry on their fathers name was more than enough for them and sent their youngest to Drepung Monastery. Their hope was that their serious little boy could find a purpose, someone to help him train his odd gift and discover his place in the world. That was what he found. Well, sort of.

He found some semblance of training at the Monastery, and found discipline within training and mediation and a firm schedule. He learned to tap into his powers at will and learned what control of it he could. But he never did find purpose. He trained and studied with the monks, he ate with them and did his chores beside them, yet they insisted that the path he would walk in this life was not one that would lead to the breaking of the karmic cycle. In another life, they would tell him, he could seek nirvana. In this one, he had purpose. So, he has spent the last twenty years at the monastery, learning of combat and the martial arts and little of the world outside the mountains that kept he and the other monks so safe. He tells himself he's quite content to let whatever his mysterious purpose is seek him out - it'll find him eventually, if it's really fate - and only wonders about his strange ability and what he is meant for in his weaker moments.[/spoili]
Likes:
Sweets | Hard work, exercise, training | Meditating outside | Blues and grays | Cunning people | Board games
Dislikes:
Impatient people | Boredom | Complaining | The color green | Too much time by himself
Fears:
Sudden change | Losing his path | Loneliness
242px-Aum.svg.png
Warrior Details
Occupation:
Monk
Powers:
Earthbending
Upsides:
+ The upper limit of his ability, when developed properly, will be higher than he can physically lift.
+ Precise control over several objects. At the monastery, he had not tried to lift any more than three at once, but he could potentially learn to lift more.
Downsides:
- Pushing his upper limits causes migraines or even temporary to lasting illness, depending on how far he pushes himself.
- Sustained use of his abilities, or too much use in a short period, can wear him out as much as physically lifting the stones would have.
- Cannot create new earth or stone, only manipulate what is around him.

Lifting/throwing - As the words state. He can lift earth, be it pebbles or stones or lumps of dirt, then throw it with considerable force. He's more than disciplined enough to lift and move/throw several items - typically pebbles - at once and control them to a precise degree, but he has not tested the upper limits of how much weight he can lift. His accurate aim makes this a viable technique in combat.
Burying - Jie can temporarily crack open the earth for the purposes of hiding himself, others, or items. Whatever is buried will be left safely in a pocket of air - though that air would be quite limited - several feet beneath the surface with only a slight mound in the surface to signal that anything was disturbed. Could arguably be used for combat purposes, but Jie would only use it for such in a dire situation.
Cracking - Cracking or breaking stone outright is something Jie can do, as well, if he's given time enough to concentrate on the task. It requires more focus than his other abilities if he wishes to do it even close to precisely. Not useful in combat.
Martial Art:
Shaolin Kung Fu
Weapons:
Dao (a broadsword) | Chain whip
242px-Aum.svg.png
Relationships
The Rat - TBD
The Tiger - TBD
The Rabbit - TBD
The Dragon - TBD
The Snake - TBD
The Horse - TBD
The Goat - TBD
The Monkey - TBD
The Rooster - TBD
The Dog - TBD
The Pig - TBD
242px-Aum.svg.png
Extra
Theme Song:
Kung Fu - Derek & Brandon Fiechter
Alignment:
Lawful Good
Appearance Refs:
One | Two | Three
Color Code:
#5F86A0
Background Image:
Here
castrobar.jpg
 
Last edited:
  • Love
Reactions: Lillian Gray
Status
Not open for further replies.