Gryphon's Gift

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Halie, Sep 5, 2011.

  1. Long ago, creatures that are considered legends today used to walk the earth. Revered, feared, loathed, loved...


    These majestic beings were each unique, highly intelligent, and progressing in technology that would strike awe and inspiration in the few humans they decided to let into their cities. They were a civilization on it's own, rich in culture, and strong. Unconquerable.

    Every thing changed in an event called The coming, the day when the wrym, the gryphon's ancient enemy from before the birth of Mankind, rose up from the elements with which they had been chained into imprisonment and waged a war so violent that it threatened to envelope everything in it's fury.

    For almost a century, this proceeded. Mankind, a young race then, dwindled to near non-Resistance.

    A lone Sorcerer, a Gryphon by the name of Thalsender, Fell in love with a young human maiden, who posessed the gift of the seer. Her name was Utelanine. Wise beyond their years, Both realized that neither one of the great races had any intention of searching for peace, and had grown relentless in their brutality.

    The only remnant of their existence remained with Utelanine. The talon of Thalsender. Before his sacrifice, he'd given it to her, blessing it with a strong enchantment. A resurrection totem.

    If a gryphon was needed, she would only have to draw her blood with the talon, and let it fall upon their grave. Yet, she was warned that it could do the same for a wrym if care were not taken.

    Using the ancient ritual that had been used to bind the Wrymkin deep within the earth, he bade her to use her blood and his bones to cast both of the great races into a deep sleep, making them one with the elements. Their cities, their art, their technology, all of it was swallowed into the earth.

    She wore it close to her heart, until her dieing day. Honoring her wish, the talon was passed down to the oldest child to be protected for generations, and even when the truth of it's origins became folklore, it was guarded as a precious family heirloom. It was a family treasure.

    And then one day, it was lost.

    Character sheet







    Motivation/ goal in life:

  2. Name: Chris Jenkins
    Career: Waiter
    Race: Caucasian, of Russian-German descent
    Age: 23
    Chris is frequently an outgoing, flirtatious guy, which he uses to his advantage at his job. He is not without his flaws; he can be quite condescending if he's in a bad mood, he thinks a bit too highly of himself, and he gets a bit agitated when things don't go his way. These flaws are gradually fading as he gains more life experience, but they still present themselves on occasion.

    Motivation/goal in life: To graduate with a degree in psychology, start up his own business, and eventually help people

    History: Chris attends University, majoring in psychology. His parents kicked him out of the house on his 18th birthday when he refused to take over the family business, instead choosing to pursue his own life goal. He has been working and paying his way through school since.
  3. Seems like a fun character. I'll start mine.
  4. Yep yep. Let me know if anything should change.
  5. Name: Cathlyn Ithica Bittner

    Career: Nurse/Ornithologist (Bird specialist)

    Race/ethnicity: Irish/ native american/ west indian




    She has a bit of a flustered, scatter minded charm. Prone to stuttering and a always scrambling after various papers that she can't quite seem to keep a hold of, she is always rushing some where.

    She doesn't seem to be shy, just a bit fidgety when trying to hold a conversation for more than 20 minutes.

    She also tends to let out a nervous laugh went frightened, intimidated, or uncomforable. She laughs when experiencing extreme pain. Also laughs when angry.

    It tends to confuse people.

    Strange, but kind hearted, she has always been the first one to lend out a helping hand so some one in need.


    She tends to get nervous. Quite easily actually. She suffers from a very deep rooted loneliness due to the fact the she was part of a military family, moving once a year almost, and never really making any strong friendships, or having a sense of home.

    Motivation/ goal in life:
    She wants to own her own exotic bird nursery. Birds have always fascinated her, especially the birds of prey for their grace, beauty, and versatility.


    She grew up in a military family, and it had indeed taught her to be humble. Growing up with demanding siblings, she'd had no desire to create more tension within her family by being selfish. She'd always be the one to abstain from asking for gifts, choosing the cheapest clothes, and spending as little money as possible. Anything to make life easier for her mother and father.

    Going to college had been a breath of fresh air. Living under that roof had not been easy. Going to medical school under a scholarship, and splitting that with going to the zoo, the bird observatory, and the local animal clinic to satisfy her fascination and love for studying bird species, she has so far found that life showed no signs of letting her live at a some what leisurely pace any time soon.
  6. Cathlyn lay flat upon the tree branch, staring at the little pearl grey Cockatiel with pleading eyes. She clucked her tongue softly.

    "Come here, Jim-jim, come on baby come to mama."

    The impish little bird looked at her with glossy brown eyes. It seemed to be forever giving her a dreamy little smirk. He seemed happy to see her, bobbing his little head at the sight of her.

    She inched forward, her black rubber rain boots scraping against the bark, her yellow cotton sundress hitching on the branch's rough surface.

    "Hi! Hi baby, i got a cracker" She said

    "Craker?!" He trilled.

    "Yes baby, a cracker. Come here and you'll get one."

    She pulled out ritz cracker from her breast pocket and held it out to the bird. The cocktails glassy eyes lit up at the sight, and began to walk towards the cracker, his feet making tiny pit-pat sounds on the tree branch as his tiny talons clicked against the wood. She drew the bird closer with the cracker. His head bobbed back and forth as he made his way towards her, his little beak clicking with excitement as he leaned towards the cracker to take a nibble.

    She giggled.

    Reaching out with the other hand, she held out her finger, offering it as a perch. Still immersed in the cracker, the bird obediently stepped onto Cathlyn's finger. She brought the bird to her shoulder, keeping the cracker accessible to the bird so that he didn't fly away again.

    She sighed as the sounds of the bird munching on his cracker tickled her ear. She looked down at her Ornithology professor, giving him a silent thumbs up and a smile. He stared up at her, frantically gesturing for her climb down.

    Her eyes darted to the bird, glimpsing his happily impish expression, and looked at the professor, distressed.

    This bird had been giving them a lot of trouble, somehow finding a way to sneak out of the nursery and into the hawking cages, which he seemed to be strangely fond of. The structure of the building, unfortunately, had the cages for the various species of birds interconnected in such a way that this was possible. The professor had spotted the little bird perched alone on on a branch, and had nearly become hysterical.

    Luckily the cages were currently empty for cleaning, or else....

    She didn't want to venture into the possibilities. Instead, she climbed down the tree cautiously, making sure that the bird didn't slip off of her shoulder.

    Wordlessly, both student and professor left the Hawking cage, and headed to the nursery.

    Once the little bird was safely in the company of other, less carnivorous birds, she spoke.

    "I have to go home. I have exams to study for. But i think you should have some one check for holes."

    Professor Ketts sighed, pinching his nose and closing his blood shot eyes. He was reasonably attractive, with his dark hair which were showing the first sings of turning grey, and a usually calm demeanor.

    Accept for, of course, when it came to his birds.

    "Yes, Cathlyn, I shall. But for now, i think i'll have to store the Hawks else where until i can solve the issue."

    He gave her a tired smile as she turned to exit the nursery and into the hall.

    "Do take care, Dear." He said.

    She paused to give him a courteous smile, too tired to say much else and made her way into the lobby. She made her way to the coatroom, grabbing her lime green raincoat and putting it on, snapping it close tight. She then headed to the front door, looking forward to a mug of cocoa and a deep, long night of rest.
  7. Chris' head was throbbing. It had been one problem after another during his shift, and it was really testing his patience. His manager had been expecting a slow night, and had thus only scheduled two waiters for the night. On top of that, they had several new cooks working, who were still trying to get a handle on the pressure of working in a restaurant, and it made for a complete catastrophe. There had been plenty of wrong orders, some of them overcooked, some undercooked, some weren't even on the menu. And the manager, seeing that disaster was imminent, had decided to leave for the night instead of calling in some help. That meant that Chris was in charge, and he had to deal with all of the complaints as well as ensure his tables got good service.

    Chris really just wanted to let loose on the new cooks and assault them with a verbal barrage. But they were both young and inexperienced, and it wouldn't be professional to start cussing them out for something they had no control over. He stepped out in to the back alley, took several deep breaths, and composed himself. He was going to finish his shift, go to the liquor store and grab some beer, then go home and finish writing his paper on social dynamics. At the very least, things couldn't possibly get any worse. A crash came from the kitchen, jolting him back to reality. Oh what now, he thought, making his way back in to the restaurant. It was going to be a long night.
  8. Cathlyn Walked on the side walk, wrapping her beige hooded raincoat snug about her body in an effort to warm herself. Every pert of her skin that was uncovered was numb. She hadn't been able to feel her toes half an hour ago. Shivering violently and trying to refrain from letting her teeth chatter she stopped under a bus stop booth to give herself temporary shelter from the rain.

    "Why the fuck did i wear a sundress?"

    To add to her misery, she was ravenous. She couldn't remember the last thing she'd eaten. An apple? Ramen?

    She shook her head, blinking when a damp lock of hair flicked into her eye. It was drizzling now, but it was more than enough to chill her. She was surprised that she couldn't see her breath.

    Perhaps her room mate would give her a ride? She just couldn't bring herself walk those extra twelve blocks. Ever since her car had been totaled five months ago, she'd taken to walking to her destinations. Too afraid to take the bus due to...certain past encounters, she'd been foot ridden.

    She took out her basic texting phone from her pocket, dialed Chelsea's number, and waited. After about six tries, she gave up. But, that was Chelsea. There when you don't need her, gone when you do.

    She chucked her phone into her messenger bag, nearly sobbing with frustration. She hated this.

    As if in answer to her prayers, she saw a restaurant across the street. Or was it a diner? Quite frankly, she didn't care. She was cold. Hungry. Had cash.

    Another gut twisting pang in her stomach made her decision for her.

    She headed across the street and into the diner. It was then that she realized that it was a bit of a classy restaurant. She happened to be the only one who was soaked, cold, shivering. Pathetic looking in comparison to the well dressed women, and the men in dress clothes. Quite frankly, she was indeed the only one who'd come from a bird's nursery. A few people passed by her, giving her a wide berth, looking at her with a sort of guarded reproach, or even repulsion.

    Unconsciously, her posture became timid. She fidgeted with the rim of her sodden yellow dress. After what feels like forever a waitress comes to her. She recognizes it as a fellow student, whose name she can not remember. She had curly red hair tied into a bun, an olive complexion, and dark brown eyes which regard her with a withdrawn coldness to her.

    "How many."

    Her voice is slightly sharp. Cathlyn has to make an effort to keep her voice light.

    "Just me."

    The waitress wordlessly guides her to a table by the window far from the more crowded areas, and promptly sets the menu on the table. It seems to be a busy night, so she does not protest at the waitresses mannerism.

    Silently, she waits for the waitress to come back. She fiddles with her dress. Her shivering abates. The mulling sound of people talking in the restuarant actually almost lull her to sleep at one moment. It is then that Cathlyn begins to grow angry. How long has it been?

    She checks her phone; 9:40

    Thirty minutes?!

    Humiliated for even waiting so long, and a little bitter she stands, ready to leave. She heads towards the front door, not meeting anyone's eyes.

    Then, a thought occurs to her.

    Immediately, she scans the restaurant and spots her waitress lounging by the pastry display booth, smiling, passing conversation with a waiter in what seems to be a flirtatious manner. So. She wan't busy. Good.

    Gathering up her jagged nerves, she stalks up to the waitress with purpose. It doesn't take long for the woman to spot her. Immediately the waitress sets her hands on her hips, her eyes lidded with contempt, lips pursed in an unapologetic manner.

    The unspoken attitude at first surprises Cathlyn, but then enrages her. What exactly is this waitress playing at? Cathlyn takes a deep , steadying breath, and speaks.

    "In case I am mistaken, I don't think it's good service to leave a customer waiting for half an hour."

    "Sorry ma'am, it's a busy night. It the service doesn't please you, I think you should go some where else. Get a cheese burger, fries, something more affordable for you."

    Cathlyn felt a sharp, acidic feeling of hurt constrict her throat. Hurt, and a slowly rising heat of outrage. Finaly she was able to choke out a strangled response.

    "Excuse me?"

    "You reek of ghetto trash. Next time, at least try to disguise yourself as a lady instead of making the customer's lose their appetite."

    Cathlyn stared at the waitress. Oh she wanted to curse, kick, scratch. But, her self control won through. She'd never thought anyone, let alone a waitress, would risk losing her job over this.

    The woman's next words were delivered louder and with vemon.

    "Or better yet, stopfucking the professor for grades and work just like the other people who bust their asses off to pass while trying to balance a minimun wage job with raising a kid."

    Suddenly the restaurant seemed to grow quiet.

    Cathlyn's eyes tear up, shocked and appalled. Where is this coming from? She was a virgin for fuck's sake.

    Against her will, a tear fell to her chin, and immediately, another. Cathlyn was beyond words. She stared at the woman, frozen.

    She had never experienced anything like this. Didn't know how to respond. Had never lifted a finger to harm any one in her life. The redhead laughed, her voice dripping with irony.

    "Aww. So the slut cries. You're breaking my heart."

    Immediately the world turned red. Cathlyn didn't even think this time.

    Her palm met the woman's cheek viciously with a resounding clap.

    The redhead immediately retaliated by grasping a fistful of Cathlyn's hair in a vice like grip, and pandemonium in the restaurant ensued as both women leaped at each other, becoming a chaotic tangle of limbs that bombarded anyone who dared to come near.
  9. Things were beginning to look up for Chris. The new cooks were starting to get the hang of things, with a little guidance, and some of the turmoil out in the restaurant was dying down. Still busy, but manageable. Not long now, he thought, and I'll be on my way home with a six-pack. He could really use the drink.

    Just as he was finally relaxing, all hell broke loose. One of the customers had slapped Tiffany; Tiffany had flipped out and went straight after the girl, grabbing her hair, trying to throw a couple of punches at the other girls face. Oh for crying out loud, just what I needed, Chris thought. His frustration reached a boiling point, and he had had enough of this bullshit. He threw himself at the girls, grabbing on to Tiffany's wrist, putting pressure on it so that she would loosen her grip on the customer, his free arm being shoved in between the warring girls, trying to pry them apart. With a bit of effort, he was able to shove Tiffany away from the girl.

    "Would someone, please explain, just what the fuck is going on here?" Chris said, having to force the words out between lungfuls of air. Just as a precaution, he stood between the two girls. He had been taught not to hit women, but his patience was thin, and if either of them tried going after the other one again, he wasn't going to restrain himself.
  10. Cathlyn stared at the man, Quickly wiping at her tear stained face. She realized that she was shaking with fatigue, and hugged herself. Her hunger was for long forgotten.

    'At least im not cold anymore.'

    She looked at Tiffany, unable to speak, afraid that if she tried she'd humiliate herself further by sobbing. The red-head spoke for her.

    "Did you know my mother is in a coma?" She whispered.

    Cathlyn forced herself to speak.

    "No, i didn't know. I'm sorry."

    "No. You're not sorry. If you were sorry you wouldn't have slept with my father."

    Cathlyn stared at her with a sad, weary exhaustion. She protested, her voice hoarse.

    "I've never slept with any one in my life. Who are you?"

    The woman stared at her, sudden realization coming over her features. Then, horror.


    "No. I'm not Alexa. That's my cousin who lived here. She died a month ago."

    Tiffany looked to be near tears now.

    "Oh my god, im so sorry. You two look - "

    " Identical."

    With out another word the woman took off her apron and left the restaurant. Cathlyn's eyes looked towards the man who had broken up the chaotic exchange, humiliated and weary and apologized.

    "I'm sorry. It was a misunderstanding, this won't happen again."
  11. Chris stood there, watching the scene unfold, as the two women who had seconds ago been ready to tear each others throats out, apologized to each other. Women, he thought, such perplexing creatures. But what had started this whole thing? He had noticed the girl coming in some time ago, so it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing. "Hey, listen, no need to apologize. I feel terrible for what just happened. If I had hiring/firing capabilities, Tiffany would be on her way out the door right now. That's no way for a waitress to behave in a restaurant. But, what I can do, is offer you a free meal, if you're still hungry."

    Glaring at Tiffany, Chris made the mental note to tell their boss what had happened, recommending that she did get fired. Unfortunately for him, the free meal would come out of his own paycheck, and he needed the money.
  12. Her bleak spirit lifted slightly at the kind offer, and she felt the corners of her lips quirk slightly, not quite able to bring herself to smile. This was all she'd wanted in the first place. She'd thought that she could have made up for her lack of apparent wealth by displaying etiquette and causing little disturbance.

    She'd failed, miserably, on both accounts.

    She Scanned the restaurant, noticing how some continued looked at her from the corner of their eye with disdain, and others quickly averted their eyes. She was tempted to leave, end her humiliation. Maybe get some fries and a shake somewhere....

    Her stomach decided for her when it clenched painfully, almost making her sway of her feet. She hadn't eaten since last night.

    "Thank you, so much. I'd really appreciate that." She said softly
  13. "Any time. If you'll follow me," he led her to a table that was away from prying eyes. The last thing she needed was for the other patrons to watch her sitting there alone. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her; she hadn't done anything wrong, and was the victim of a malicious waitress, whose only goal was to humiliate her in front of the entire restaurant. At least nothing was damaged in their little tussle, Chris thought. That was the last thing he needed. He turned a corner, and motioned to the staff booth. "And here we are. Something a little more private, away from wandering eyes."

    "I'm Chris. I'll take care of you tonight. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to yell through those doors for me," he pointed through the doors to the kitchen. She looked like she was a bit cold, maybe he would offer her his sweater temporarily, until she warmed up a bit. "Would you like something to drink while you take a look at the menu?"
  14. Cathlyn took off her wet raincoat, which was doing nothing but making her colder that she already was, and could finally manage to offer him a gentle smile off appreciation. The sleeveless yellow sundress gave her arms no protection from the cool air, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to acknowledge the fact. She cringed at the noises her rubber rain boots made. She took furtive glances at the feet of the women they passed by and noticed that many, if not all were wearing designer shoes, or boots. The thought made her even more dejected, and she hugged her worn leather messenger bag closer to her.

    Relieved when they finally reached the booth, she sat down in the leather seat. Despite the fact that she now realized that she'd made a terrible, terrible mistake in coming here she was no longer upset, only a bit glum, yet still determined to finish out what she'd started. The man obviously felt sorry for her if she hadn't been thrown out, so she was going to make the best of it.

    "I'd just like some hot tea if you don't mind."

    She sat down and rested her hands on her lap, her back erect. Even now, the habit of keeping good posture her mother had ruthlessly made her adopt could not be abandoned, and she crossed her ankles, giving the man a grateful smile. He was perceptive, and she was thankful that he'd thought to give her a more private booth.

    "I'm Cathlyn. I really appreciate this. Thank you."

    She realized that she didn't have a menu, but she found herself hesitant to ask for one. Then, she berated herself for being silly, yet still, especially after the entire scene she'd caused, she felt that Chris was being generous.

    "May i have a menu please? if it's not too much trouble."
  15. "Yes, of course! How stupid of me not to grab you one," Chris answered, mentally facepalming. He was supposed to be trying to make the girl feel better, take her mind off of what had just happened, and at least try to salvage the evening for her. There were some menus laying on one of the counters in the kitchen, and he grabbed one on the way to the changing room, where his sweater was hung. The girl looked nice in the yellow sundress, even if it was inappropriate for the restaurant, and more importantly, the weather outside. He chuckled, some girls would rather look gorgeous and catch pneumonia. This girl didn't strike him as the type for that though. He wove his way back through the kitchen, carrying the menu, his sweater, and a kettle full of hot water with an assortment of tea bags.

    "Here's your tea, and a menu. Sorry about that, it completely slipped my mind," he apologized. He offered her the sweater. "You looked cold, so I thought I would bring my sweater out for you. It isn't much, but it'll keep you warm. Is there anything else I could get you?"

    Most days Chris had to put an act on for the customers, appearing happier than he was. Today should have been one of those days, but there was something about the girl, something that made him feel comfortable, like he didn't have to put on his tired old facade at being cheerful. It sort of just happened around her. Maybe it was the dress? He wasn't sure, he only knew that he was glad the night was finally starting to go smoothly.
  16. "Here's your tea, and a menu. Sorry about that, it completely slipped my mind," he apologized.

    Cathlyn held the hot tea mug, the heat giving her an almost sensual pleasure as it warmed her. Her eyes become lidded as she brought the cup close to her lips, relishing the sensation of the steam caressing her chin. In moments, her feelings of discomfort and self deprecation fled her. Just holding it for a few moments had warmed her in a way she hadn't expected.

    "You looked cold, so I thought I would bring my sweater out for you. It isn't much, but it'll keep you warm. Is there anything else I could get you?"

    She was surprised. She took the sweater, marveling at it's soft texture. It was navy blue, lined with fleece. She draped it around her shoulders, and found that it was in fact, quite warm, and possibly three sizes to big for her. She put her arms through the sleeves, and found that the hems ended at least four and a half inches past her finger tips. She picked the mug back up, and held it for the moment, if only for the sake of the intoxicating warmth that flooded through her.

    "I think I'll just have mushroom soup. I don't think i can stomach much else. Thank you for the sweater, it's really helping."

    She gave him a genuine smile this time. With his small gesture, he'd helped reconcile the course of her night, whether he knew it or not.
  17. He watched as she pulled the sweater over her head. It was several sizes too large, and looked almost comically over-sized on her, which made him smile. Just looking at the transformation in the girl, from cold and crying, to smiling, calm and collected, Chris was in awe. There was no sign visible that betrayed the events from earlier in the evening. He took her order, nodding at her gratitude for the sweater. "My pleasure Cathlyn."

    He wandered in to the kitchen and gave the cooks her order, watching them make it to ensure they did a good job. Somehow taking care of this girl had helped him relax from the stresses of the job. When the soup was ready, he grabbed in and took it out to the girl, making sure to give her all the necessary cutlery. "And there you are. If there is anything wrong with the meal, you tell me and I'll have the kitchen make you more. And if there is absolutely anything you need, at all, come find me, ok?"
  18. Upon catching the scent of the soup the last bit of her distress faded away, and much to her chagrin her feet twiddled slightly. It was a habit of her she hadn't been able to stifle from her childhood. She found that she was actually able to give him a genuine smile.

    "Thank you, I really appreciate this. And i will let you know, if I need something."

    He was about to leave when the thought of being alone suddenly had made her feel dejected and strangely....uncomfortable. She'd dined alone on many occasions, and never had a problem with it. Yet this night seemed to be particularly unusual for her.

    "Wait! I wanted to know if you like to sit with me. I mean - "

    She started to stir the soup with her spoon, staring into it's murky depths to avoid looking him in the eye. She began to feel extremely uncomfortable for making such a request. Still, she pushed herself to continue.

    "You don't have to. I just wanted to know, I'm sorry to bother you..."

    She began to feel acutely uncomfortable now, and realized that perhaps she was trying a bit too hard to look nonchalant, and that maybe she was beginning to show a ridiculous amount of focus on mixing her soup.

  19. Chris was taken aback by her request. He supposed she wanted the company, to have someone to talk to, to help take her mind off of what had happened at the restaurant. The restaurant was starting to empty; the kitchen was closing soon. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a problem to sit with her, at least for a little bit since he was in charge nobody would be there to yell at him. "Yeah, sure, I'll sit with you."

    He sat across from her in the booth, resting his arms on the edge of the table. It had been a long night and he was exhausted. He looked over at Cathlyn mixing her soup, trying to think of something to say. "Do you want me to grab anything else for you?"
  20. Cathlyn laughed, and all of her tension washed away. She looked at him, revealed and grateful that he'd decided to keep her company.

    "No, you just sat down.So,"

    She clears her throat lightly, thinking of something to ask, to say, anything to avoid making things awkward.

    "What do you like to do on your free time? Are you taking classes at the university?"

    She pauses, before continuing.

    "I'm studying to be a nurse, but i also study birds. It's a passion of mine."

    She was a bit anxious, but she took care not to let it show in her voice. She kept her tone polite, interested. Or so she hoped. She studied him for a moment. He looked every bit as tired as she actually was. She sighed inwardly.

    ‚Äč'It's been a rough night for both of us...'