A
Alexa Ray
Guest
Uh, yeahhh... Not happening. Ask someone else who actually gets your humor. You'll have a better chance at love. P:
Uh, yeahhh... Not happening. Ask someone else who actually gets your humor. You'll have a better chance at love. P:
T
Tone Deaf
Guest
@PinkArrow Oh what horrific crime this is, a love so true that was never to be.
I can not sleep so I chose to finish my cs tonight. Its up there in all its drug soaked glory.
I can not sleep so I chose to finish my cs tonight. Its up there in all its drug soaked glory.
K
Keekayani
Guest
R
Rainjay
Guest
ᴋ
ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ
Guest
Go ahead.
They don't have to but I recommend using your character. :)
ᴋ
ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ
Guest
A
Alexa Ray
Guest
«CHARACTER SIGN-UP SHEET»
NAME: Farrah Hudson
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
RANK: Omega
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
In wolf form, Farrah has a light ginger flank, mixed in with white. Her eyes are a honey color and her fur is soft, thick, and long. Besides that, Farrah's tail is bushy with the underside of it being mostly white, while the top being dominantly ginger-colored. As for her human form, Farrah has long, straight, and silky black-brown hair with beautiful olive skin. Her eyes are a natural brown color and her eyebrows are highly arched at one point. She has a narrow-shaped nose, as well as an hourglass-shaped body. She stands at about 5'4" tall and weighs about 120 lbs.
PICTURES:
PERSONALITY:
Antisocial. Careless. Fearful of what will come. Farrah used to be a cheerful, calm, and collective child, but after being diagnosed, she independently developed a whole new outlook and reasoning on life. She gained an introverted personality because of her fears taking over her thoughts. She doesn't wish to be a burden to anyone and only hopes that what is done, is done right and safely for her and the others around her. Often, she finds herself appraising those around her, giving them critical opinions, envying them because of their capabilities to emit a line of confidence and determination, whilst she does not feel so.
HISTORY:
Ever since Farrah was a young girl, she had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, known to be inherited from her Father's side of the family. Medical bills grew high and by the time she was 10, her parents could no longer afford to pay for the treatment she needed. Farrah was sent away to live with her uncle in New York, so that he may pay the renditions needed to continue treatment and weekly checkups. As days passed by, the only thing Farrah could ever think about was how her life was going to end. Depression swarmed her, she continued to go through a series of dysfunctions and irritation, as well as consequences of intracranial hypertension. Her uncle, feeling he had been unable to help Farrah appropriately and correctly after many years, reached out to a friend of his, who had suggested that his niece take a medicine known to cure all diseases and/or illnesses. Desperate in finding the cure, as surgery and other operations were too expensive for his wellbeing, Farrah's uncle prescribed the medication to her. She ran away the night she took the medicine, the mutation taking over her, and for years, has been a loner, although not for long when she stumbled across others who were just like her.
PAST DISEASE/ILLNESS:
Malignant Brain Tumor
OTHER:
She seems to have a liking for her pack leader, although she won't say that to anyone.
WILL THIS CHARACTER EVENTUALLY DIE?
She doesn't have long to live so yes, she will eventually die.
WRITING SAMPLE:
Deep within the heart of Durham, a town of wood craft, healing, and many other professions, a small, well-equipped group of elves rested within an inn. Durham was surrounded by many rolling hills of light-colored peridot, as well as a luscious emerald forest in the southernmost direction of the town itself. These elves were long and slender in stature, standing about 5' 5" tall on average. Each had their own distinctive features, physical attributes contributing to their uniqueness among the many other species within Britain, especially where they had conquered land.
One particular elf, the illegitimate child of an elven baron and baroness, held fairly detailed markings on her body and face that consisted of many curves and streaks created with a special paint that only elven nobility had access to, despite being created by an artisan within the lower class of merchants and tradesmen. The markings, embodied at a young age, made them stand out. It distinguished the nobles from the commoners within elven society. At this time, Estelle, a young elf around 27 years in physical human age, stood with the small group and her father- the leader of the elven army that had conquered much land within Britain. With a bow in her left hand, Estelle's hand tightened around its grip. Her father had planned to seek further conquest towards the west- an area not yet journeyed.
It would be dangerous for them.
They needed to sleep. They needed to eat. Despite having the courage and determination to move forward, the elven people still needed to follow the basic essentials of survival, just like any other species within Britain. Her father didn't seem to notice this troubling sight, but Estelle could see it bright as day. Fatigue wore them down, malnutrition led to seeing and feeling the bones of even the most masculine elves. They were dying and although Estelle brought the situation up with her father earlier while trekking towards Durham, he simply responded in a prickly manner: "My men are more than capable of handling themselves. Do not question my methods, Estelle." That egotistical statement had made it clear to Estelle that her father was no longer the man she once knew. He was bloody, foul, and more than indifferent about the lives of his men. His ways had changed since this warfare had started, but who made him do so?
Estelle knew the ideal was a horrid notion to be convinced by, but her father had never seemed so caught up in doing the king's dirty work than he was before the war. It now worried her frequently throughout the time the small group of elves had sat or stood around the large table inside the inn. She could barely focus any further into the discussion her father was having with everyone else. Estelle thought she heard her name, but quickly disregarded it as a delusion to her mind. No one had spoken to her as her father rambled on and on. "Estelle?" She felt the cool touch of a hand patting her cheek repeatedly and gently. "Estelle?" She blinked once, then twice. Her father's voice. "Your contribution to this discussion?" he inquired.
Estelle suddenly remembered what her father had become wound up on doing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, then a glare reached her father with direct eye contact. "They need rest," she spoke hastily, an austere expression set in her facial features. Not bothering to listen to her Father's opinion on that, she turned and left the inn without another word. The sun was now setting off in the distance. Estelle glanced around the town. It had somewhat seemingly started to become quiet. She went to the stables nearby, releasing her horse, Vesteria, and bringing her out into the shadows of the stable roof, then into the light. Estelle's horse, an Andalusian breed of dark brown skin and thick black mane, shown brightly in the setting sun. slowly dissipating by every moment it was taking for Estelle to leave Durham and travel west.
She would no longer be apart of her father's obsession in supremacy.
NAME: Farrah Hudson
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
RANK: Omega
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
In wolf form, Farrah has a light ginger flank, mixed in with white. Her eyes are a honey color and her fur is soft, thick, and long. Besides that, Farrah's tail is bushy with the underside of it being mostly white, while the top being dominantly ginger-colored. As for her human form, Farrah has long, straight, and silky black-brown hair with beautiful olive skin. Her eyes are a natural brown color and her eyebrows are highly arched at one point. She has a narrow-shaped nose, as well as an hourglass-shaped body. She stands at about 5'4" tall and weighs about 120 lbs.
PICTURES:
PERSONALITY:
Antisocial. Careless. Fearful of what will come. Farrah used to be a cheerful, calm, and collective child, but after being diagnosed, she independently developed a whole new outlook and reasoning on life. She gained an introverted personality because of her fears taking over her thoughts. She doesn't wish to be a burden to anyone and only hopes that what is done, is done right and safely for her and the others around her. Often, she finds herself appraising those around her, giving them critical opinions, envying them because of their capabilities to emit a line of confidence and determination, whilst she does not feel so.
HISTORY:
Ever since Farrah was a young girl, she had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, known to be inherited from her Father's side of the family. Medical bills grew high and by the time she was 10, her parents could no longer afford to pay for the treatment she needed. Farrah was sent away to live with her uncle in New York, so that he may pay the renditions needed to continue treatment and weekly checkups. As days passed by, the only thing Farrah could ever think about was how her life was going to end. Depression swarmed her, she continued to go through a series of dysfunctions and irritation, as well as consequences of intracranial hypertension. Her uncle, feeling he had been unable to help Farrah appropriately and correctly after many years, reached out to a friend of his, who had suggested that his niece take a medicine known to cure all diseases and/or illnesses. Desperate in finding the cure, as surgery and other operations were too expensive for his wellbeing, Farrah's uncle prescribed the medication to her. She ran away the night she took the medicine, the mutation taking over her, and for years, has been a loner, although not for long when she stumbled across others who were just like her.
PAST DISEASE/ILLNESS:
Malignant Brain Tumor
OTHER:
She seems to have a liking for her pack leader, although she won't say that to anyone.
WILL THIS CHARACTER EVENTUALLY DIE?
She doesn't have long to live so yes, she will eventually die.
WRITING SAMPLE:
Deep within the heart of Durham, a town of wood craft, healing, and many other professions, a small, well-equipped group of elves rested within an inn. Durham was surrounded by many rolling hills of light-colored peridot, as well as a luscious emerald forest in the southernmost direction of the town itself. These elves were long and slender in stature, standing about 5' 5" tall on average. Each had their own distinctive features, physical attributes contributing to their uniqueness among the many other species within Britain, especially where they had conquered land.
One particular elf, the illegitimate child of an elven baron and baroness, held fairly detailed markings on her body and face that consisted of many curves and streaks created with a special paint that only elven nobility had access to, despite being created by an artisan within the lower class of merchants and tradesmen. The markings, embodied at a young age, made them stand out. It distinguished the nobles from the commoners within elven society. At this time, Estelle, a young elf around 27 years in physical human age, stood with the small group and her father- the leader of the elven army that had conquered much land within Britain. With a bow in her left hand, Estelle's hand tightened around its grip. Her father had planned to seek further conquest towards the west- an area not yet journeyed.
It would be dangerous for them.
They needed to sleep. They needed to eat. Despite having the courage and determination to move forward, the elven people still needed to follow the basic essentials of survival, just like any other species within Britain. Her father didn't seem to notice this troubling sight, but Estelle could see it bright as day. Fatigue wore them down, malnutrition led to seeing and feeling the bones of even the most masculine elves. They were dying and although Estelle brought the situation up with her father earlier while trekking towards Durham, he simply responded in a prickly manner: "My men are more than capable of handling themselves. Do not question my methods, Estelle." That egotistical statement had made it clear to Estelle that her father was no longer the man she once knew. He was bloody, foul, and more than indifferent about the lives of his men. His ways had changed since this warfare had started, but who made him do so?
Estelle knew the ideal was a horrid notion to be convinced by, but her father had never seemed so caught up in doing the king's dirty work than he was before the war. It now worried her frequently throughout the time the small group of elves had sat or stood around the large table inside the inn. She could barely focus any further into the discussion her father was having with everyone else. Estelle thought she heard her name, but quickly disregarded it as a delusion to her mind. No one had spoken to her as her father rambled on and on. "Estelle?" She felt the cool touch of a hand patting her cheek repeatedly and gently. "Estelle?" She blinked once, then twice. Her father's voice. "Your contribution to this discussion?" he inquired.
Estelle suddenly remembered what her father had become wound up on doing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, then a glare reached her father with direct eye contact. "They need rest," she spoke hastily, an austere expression set in her facial features. Not bothering to listen to her Father's opinion on that, she turned and left the inn without another word. The sun was now setting off in the distance. Estelle glanced around the town. It had somewhat seemingly started to become quiet. She went to the stables nearby, releasing her horse, Vesteria, and bringing her out into the shadows of the stable roof, then into the light. Estelle's horse, an Andalusian breed of dark brown skin and thick black mane, shown brightly in the setting sun. slowly dissipating by every moment it was taking for Estelle to leave Durham and travel west.
She would no longer be apart of her father's obsession in supremacy.
Last edited by a moderator:
B
Bitterblue
Guest
[BCOLOR=transparent]Name[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory Williams[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Age[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]24[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Gender[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Male[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rank[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Appearance[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory isn't the most handsome of men. He has a long-ish nose, and brown eyes. He has dirty blond hair that sits on top of his head, and doesn't do much of anything. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Picture[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]
[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]
[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Personality[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]What Rory lacks in appearance, he makes up for in personality. Rory is the most loyal, trusting man in existence. He is extremely caring and nurturing, seeing as he's a nurse. If you are one he loves, he will gladly die to protect you.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]History[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]He was 20 when he married Amy, and completely smitten with his new wife. Everything about her drew his attention….her eyes, her smile, her walk. Everything. When she became sick, he loved her even more, and the nurse in him kicked in. He took care of her, he helped her get dressed. Yes, it was devastating seeing her memory being slowly eaten away, yes it was devastating to see a look of unrecognition in her eyes, but nonetheless, he still loved her all the more.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Then there came the cure. She was cured. She remembered most of what she had forgotten. (The only thing she couldn't was her early childhood). And they returned to normal life….then the change happened. You have no idea what it's like to be sleeping next to your wife one moment, and the next you're nearly crushed to death by this 6 foot wolf. You can imagine Rory's shocked cry, and stumbling out of bed. As he looked into the wolf's green eyes, he saw a familiar expression. Fear. Confusion. Stubbornness. Amy. He knew it was her, and he approached slowly, so not to scare her. Kneeling by her, he hugged the giant wolf, burying his face in her thick, warm fur. How could this happen? How could-The cure. It must be a….side effect. If that was the right word for it. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]You know the rest, if you've read Amy's History. :P[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Past Disease/Illness[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Other[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory is completely human. He didn't have the cure, but his wife left to find the pack, and he means to follow her....at whatever the cost. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Will This Character Eventually Die?[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Probably, but I'm hoping he lasts a decent amount of time. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Writing Sample[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]See Amelia's sample.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory Williams[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Age[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]24[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Gender[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Male[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rank[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Appearance[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory isn't the most handsome of men. He has a long-ish nose, and brown eyes. He has dirty blond hair that sits on top of his head, and doesn't do much of anything. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Picture[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]
[BCOLOR=transparent]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Personality[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]What Rory lacks in appearance, he makes up for in personality. Rory is the most loyal, trusting man in existence. He is extremely caring and nurturing, seeing as he's a nurse. If you are one he loves, he will gladly die to protect you.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]History[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]He was 20 when he married Amy, and completely smitten with his new wife. Everything about her drew his attention….her eyes, her smile, her walk. Everything. When she became sick, he loved her even more, and the nurse in him kicked in. He took care of her, he helped her get dressed. Yes, it was devastating seeing her memory being slowly eaten away, yes it was devastating to see a look of unrecognition in her eyes, but nonetheless, he still loved her all the more.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Then there came the cure. She was cured. She remembered most of what she had forgotten. (The only thing she couldn't was her early childhood). And they returned to normal life….then the change happened. You have no idea what it's like to be sleeping next to your wife one moment, and the next you're nearly crushed to death by this 6 foot wolf. You can imagine Rory's shocked cry, and stumbling out of bed. As he looked into the wolf's green eyes, he saw a familiar expression. Fear. Confusion. Stubbornness. Amy. He knew it was her, and he approached slowly, so not to scare her. Kneeling by her, he hugged the giant wolf, burying his face in her thick, warm fur. How could this happen? How could-The cure. It must be a….side effect. If that was the right word for it. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]You know the rest, if you've read Amy's History. :P[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Past Disease/Illness[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Other[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory is completely human. He didn't have the cure, but his wife left to find the pack, and he means to follow her....at whatever the cost. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Will This Character Eventually Die?[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Probably, but I'm hoping he lasts a decent amount of time. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Writing Sample[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]See Amelia's sample.[/BCOLOR]
ᴋ
ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ
Guest
I really like Rory's form. :D Especially his history, you really put some good emotion into that writing![BCOLOR=transparent]Name[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory Williams[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Age[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]24[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Gender[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Male[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rank[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Appearance[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory isn't the most handsome of men. He has a long-ish nose, and brown eyes. He has dirty blond hair that sits on top of his head, and doesn't do much of anything. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Picture[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Personality[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]What Rory lacks in appearance, he makes up for in personality. Rory is the most loyal, trusting man in existence. He is extremely caring and nurturing, seeing as he's a nurse. If you are one he loves, he will gladly die to protect you.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]History[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]He was 20 when he married Amy, and completely smitten with his new wife. Everything about her drew his attention….her eyes, her smile, her walk. Everything. When she became sick, he loved her even more, and the nurse in him kicked in. He took care of her, he helped her get dressed. Yes, it was devastating seeing her memory being slowly eaten away, yes it was devastating to see a look of unrecognition in her eyes, but nonetheless, he still loved her all the more.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Then there came the cure. She was cured. She remembered most of what she had forgotten. (The only thing she couldn't was her early childhood). And they returned to normal life….then the change happened. You have no idea what it's like to be sleeping next to your wife one moment, and the next you're nearly crushed to death by this 6 foot wolf. You can imagine Rory's shocked cry, and stumbling out of bed. As he looked into the wolf's green eyes, he saw a familiar expression. Fear. Confusion. Stubbornness. Amy. He knew it was her, and he approached slowly, so not to scare her. Kneeling by her, he hugged the giant wolf, burying his face in her thick, warm fur. How could this happen? How could-The cure. It must be a….side effect. If that was the right word for it. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]You know the rest, if you've read Amy's History. :P[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Past Disease/Illness[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]None[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Other[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Rory is completely human. He didn't have the cure, but his wife left to find the pack, and he means to follow her....at whatever the cost. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Will This Character Eventually Die?[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Probably, but I'm hoping he lasts a decent amount of time. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Writing Sample[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]See Amelia's sample.[/BCOLOR]
ᴋ
ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ
Guest
Spectacular form. Accepted, of course!«CHARACTER SIGN-UP SHEET»
NAME: Farrah Hudson
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
RANK: Omega
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
In wolf form, Farrah has a light ginger flank, mixed in with white. Her eyes are a honey color and her fur is soft, thick, and long. Besides that, Farrah's tail is bushy with the underside of it being mostly white, while the top being dominantly ginger-colored. As for her human form, Farrah has long, straight, and silky black-brown hair with beautiful olive skin. Her eyes are a natural brown color and her eyebrows are highly arched at one point. She has a narrow-shaped nose, as well as an hourglass-shaped body. She stands at about 5'4" tall and weighs about 120 lbs.
PICTURES:
PERSONALITY:
Antisocial. Careless. Fearful of what will come. Farrah used to be a cheerful, calm, and collective child, but after being diagnosed, she independently developed a whole new outlook and reasoning on life. She gained an introverted personality because of her fears taking over her thoughts. She doesn't wish to be a burden to anyone and only hopes that what is done, is done right and safely for her and the others around her. Often, she finds herself appraising those around her, giving them critical opinions, envying them because of their capabilities to emit a line of confidence and determination, whilst she does not feel so.
HISTORY:
Ever since Farrah was a young girl, she had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, known to be inherited from her Father's side of the family. Medical bills grew high and by the time she was 10, her parents could no longer afford to pay for the treatment she needed. Farrah was sent away to live with her uncle in New York, so that he may pay the renditions needed to continue treatment and weekly checkups. As days passed by, the only thing Farrah could ever think about was how her life was going to end. Depression swarmed her, she continued to go through a series of dysfunctions and irritation, as well as consequences of intracranial hypertension. Her uncle, feeling he had been unable to help Farrah appropriately and correctly after many years, reached out to a friend of his, who had suggested that his niece take a medicine known to cure all diseases and/or illnesses. Desperate in finding the cure, as surgery and other operations were too expensive for his wellbeing, Farrah's uncle prescribed the medication to her. She ran away the night she took the medicine, the mutation taking over her, and for years, has been a loner, although not for long when she stumbled across others who were just like her.
PAST DISEASE/ILLNESS:
Malignant Brain Tumor
OTHER:
She seems to have a liking for her pack leader, although she won't say that to anyone.
WILL THIS CHARACTER EVENTUALLY DIE?
She doesn't have long to live so yes, she will eventually die.
WRITING SAMPLE:
Deep within the heart of Durham, a town of wood craft, healing, and many other professions, a small, well-equipped group of elves rested within an inn. Durham was surrounded by many rolling hills of light-colored peridot, as well as a luscious emerald forest in the southernmost direction of the town itself. These elves were long and slender in stature, standing about 5' 5" tall on average. Each had their own distinctive features, physical attributes contributing to their uniqueness among the many other species within Britain, especially where they had conquered land.
One particular elf, the illegitimate child of an elven baron and baroness, held fairly detailed markings on her body and face that consisted of many curves and streaks created with a special paint that only elven nobility had access to, despite being created by an artisan within the lower class of merchants and tradesmen. The markings, embodied at a young age, made them stand out. It distinguished the nobles from the commoners within elven society. At this time, Estelle, a young elf around 27 years in physical human age, stood with the small group and her father- the leader of the elven army that had conquered much land within Britain. With a bow in her left hand, Estelle's hand tightened around its grip. Her father had planned to seek further conquest towards the west- an area not yet journeyed.
It would be dangerous for them.
They needed to sleep. They needed to eat. Despite having the courage and determination to move forward, the elven people still needed to follow the basic essentials of survival, just like any other species within Britain. Her father didn't seem to notice this troubling sight, but Estelle could see it bright as day. Fatigue wore them down, malnutrition led to seeing and feeling the bones of even the most masculine elves. They were dying and although Estelle brought the situation up with her father earlier while trekking towards Durham, he simply responded in a prickly manner: "My men are more than capable of handling themselves. Do not question my methods, Estelle." That egotistical statement had made it clear to Estelle that her father was no longer the man she once knew. He was bloody, foul, and more than indifferent about the lives of his men. His ways had changed since this warfare had started, but who made him do so?
Estelle knew the ideal was a horrid notion to be convinced by, but her father had never seemed so caught up in doing the king's dirty work than he was before the war. It now worried her frequently throughout the time the small group of elves had sat or stood around the large table inside the inn. She could barely focus any further into the discussion her father was having with everyone else. Estelle thought she heard her name, but quickly disregarded it as a delusion to her mind. No one had spoken to her as her father rambled on and on. "Estelle?" She felt the cool touch of a hand patting her cheek repeatedly and gently. "Estelle?" She blinked once, then twice. Her father's voice. "Your contribution to this discussion?" he inquired.
Estelle suddenly remembered what her father had become wound up on doing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, then a glare reached her father with direct eye contact. "They need rest," she spoke hastily, an austere expression set in her facial features. Not bothering to listen to her Father's opinion on that, she turned and left the inn without another word. The sun was now setting off in the distance. Estelle glanced around the town. It had somewhat seemingly started to become quiet. She went to the stables nearby, releasing her horse, Vesteria, and bringing her out into the shadows of the stable roof, then into the light. Estelle's horse, an Andalusian breed of dark brown skin and thick black mane, shown brightly in the setting sun. slowly dissipating by every moment it was taking for Estelle to leave Durham and travel west.
She would no longer be apart of her father's obsession in supremacy.
R
Rainjay
Guest
ᴋ
ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ
Guest
I did; so sorry! You're accepted as well, haha, so far, everyone's been accepted. Which is an extremely good thing, in mah book. :D
B
Bitterblue
Guest
A
Alexa Ray
Guest
T
Tone Deaf
Guest
A
Alexa Ray
Guest
T
Tone Deaf
Guest
For some unfathomable reason, I did not know that the IC was up even with being excited to do this roleplay and checking every couple of hours when I am not at work. Obviously I need to drink more coffee.
A
Alexa Ray
Guest
Oh. Well, yeah, the IC has actually been up for a few days now. It's at the beginning of this thread seen as the 'play' button.