OLD APPS / CHARACTER SHEETS

[Radio Jelly]

GENERAL

Name: Kydris Shieldew

Pronunciation: K-eye-dris Shield-dew

Nickname: Ky

Species: Elf

Race: Roanite

Date of Birth: Thunderwind (The Gryphon)

Age: 28

Place of Birth: Marbalea

"Why pay a premium for my services? If you can imagine a problem, I can imagine a solution. Luckily for you, I can create whatever it is I imagine. That's the Shieldew guarantee, my friend. Even my competition wouldn't bet against me..."

DETAILS

Paragraph Character Concept:

Kydris is young even by human standards, but what he lacks in lifelong experience he makes up for in an indomitable strength of will. He walks the line between confidence and arrogance (despite his many past failures) and often put on whatever veneer necessary for employment. He's a novice conjuror, and flippantly uses his magics to trick and cheat his many adversaries—some of whom a product of his mercenary profession, while others a result of his many gambling debts. To outsiders, Kydris appears almost irritatingly optimistic and naive, but despite the irresponsible use of his magic—and tendency to gamble with his own fate—his drive is derived from an overwhelming desire to rebuild his life, find the family that left him, and prove himself worthy of them again.

Character Arc(s):

1. Leaving Lyf and escaping adversaries
2. Changing selfish lifestyle in face of bigger goals (Ongoing)
3. Learning to "pull" more useful conjurations for a more important purpose.
4. Pursuing the trail of his sister (Ongoing)
5. Discovering the fate of his family, and choosing a final path based on his success/failure.

Character Plot(s):

I'm honestly not entirely sure, but Kydris will probably use the mounting global threat as an excuse to finally travel the world in search of his sister. Despite the fact that he won't truly care about the threat to begin with, I imagine he will become embroiled in the mounting conflict, and eventually develop some measure of selfless responsibility which will have the potential to alter how his final character arc ends.

MBTI: ENFP

D&D Alignment: True Neutral, although he walks the Chaotic Neutral line from time to time.

Attuned Element(s):

1. Conjuration

Fleuntia: Solis

Weapons and Proficiency:

Kydris has had to protect himself on a number of occasions, and—in his youth—was trained to use a saber. While he is proficient with the blade, his advantage in battle usually comes from his dexterous nature, and his sharp reflexes. His raw physical strength is passable, but certainly not impressive, so most of his damaging strikes come from his proclivity to strike at poorly armored, or inhibited areas of the body.

Kydris can use a bow, but is by no means talented, nor really even that good. If he has to attack from a distance, he'd prefer to be wielding a set of throwing knives, as he's had some unintentional practice given the many games he's played at the local tavern's throwing board.

WRITING SAMPLE

The weathered door made a near inaudible creaking sound as Kydris deftly swung it aside, and strode into the Vigorous Mare. She was an old tavern, and the sound of the door would've been loud enough in any other space but the raucous—and oftentimes uncontrollable—behavior of its most typical patrons was such that anything short of a fireseed shot would be almost entirely drowned out by their uproarious laughter and vitriolic shouting. This place was one of the few that Kydris frequented in Lyf, if only due to the pseudo-casino operating out of the basement.

The Roanite stalked through the heavy crowds, barely noticing the pungent vapors of exotic tobacco and other, more illicit substances. To his left, a meager bar built of some sort of dark wood stood, although just barely: decades of mistreatment, bar-scraps, and general tomfoolery had left it with any number of large dents, and splintered corners.

It was a favorite haunt of his, and for a moment Kydris stared wistfully at the tabletop, desperately trying to avoid making eye-contact with the bouncer at the casino door. He wouldn't have to: not several seconds later, a firm, heavy hand clasped his right shoulder, the muscular arm stretching around his back and squeezing him closer towards a singular, hairy human. The man had so much hair, in fact, that Kydris had once mistaken him for a Lecyri. Then, like now, Kydris found himself unable to escape comeuppance, although his punishment had previously been but a rigged game of dice.

"You know my friend," Eadrus's spoke, his voice raspy in Kydris's ear. "I had not expected you to return. In fact, I had placed a wager on you leaving Lyf tonight."

Kydris suddenly found his mouth very dry, and his heart beating very fast. With a soft gulp, he pulled away from the man's embrace. "Eadrus, you know I would never dream of walking out on you. Certainly not after all the good work we've done together in the past. You remember that, right? All those really profitable jobs—"
"Enough." Eadrus interrupted, his voice sharp in its delivery. By his collar, Kydris found himself being dragged to the den below. Even if he could wiggle free, his eyes quickly landed upon two other figures obscured in the crowd that were staring at him intently. He had witnessed this sort of play before, and knew he had no chance at running now.

When Eadrus finally let go, Kydris found himself standing not ten feet from a dart-board. In front of him, a case of knives were presented. "Kydris, my boy. I am a fair employer, am I not?" Kydris nodded silently, trying to assess his situation with fleeting eyes. "Here's the deal, since you've appeared to completely forget about the payment you owe me," Eadrus continued. "You and I play a game of knives, and should you win, you'll live to pay me back another day. Usually I would kill you, but consider this…" The old man paused, his lips curling into a yellowed grin. "A mercy for past services rendered."

Kydris should've just played the game, but ever the fool he instead opened his mouth and said, "Double the bet—If I win I owe you nothing." It appeared Eadrus expected this however, as his grin widened. "Then If I win," The human spoke, "You belong to me." The two gamblers shook hands in a mock show of honor, but Kydris was already dreaming of ways to cheat. Such was the elf's way.

Everything should be in order. Let me know if there is anything else you'd like me to change/explain.

 

[rissa]

@Radio Jelly

He's lovely so far! Please go ahead and fill out your full CS within this thread.

EDIT: Also, as I've yet to update the codes, could you let me know which storyline you're aiming to join?

 

[Radio Jelly]

I originally mentioned it somewhere but forgot I edited that part out--my apologies. Stars of Skaarsburg is the one I intend to join.

 

[Aero Blue]

Aarcon

Consul of Lyf

"Burn me alive upon the grandest pyre known to time and space."

GENERAL

Name: Aarcon Iasra Zulat
Pronunciation: Ar-Kan e-az-rah Zu-lat
Nickname: Arc
Titles: Consul
Species: Elf
Race: Lecyri
Date of Birth: Winter (Month 9), AR. 998.
Zodiac: The Horned Demon
Age: 308
Place of Birth: Lyf, Lecara

Storyline/Plot: Roseblood

"The dust in the wind: specks of millennia past screaming – begging – to be remembered."

APPEARANCE

Eye Color: Hazel, although his ailed left eye is glazed white.
Hair Color: Wispy White
Hair Style/Length: Mid-back, straight
Height: 7'0"
Weight: 220lbs.
Body Type: Broad-framed, but slender.
Body Modifications/Accessories: N/A

Written Appearance:
Handsome enough given his years, a feline-esque countenance weathered by time and giving the impression of an earthly wisdom. Impressively self-aware of his donned expressions, Aarcon finds himself routinely alternating between visages of reserved wisdom and endearing cordiality.

A towering individual even by Lecyrian standards, Aarcon's tall form is an advantage in establishing social presence, but an incredible burden to carry for over three hundred years. A specially commissioned back-brace forcibly stalls the curses of hunching and slouching, keeping Aarcon's posture rigidly – and painfully - straight.

In contrast to many Lecyrians and by conscious decision, Aarcon's styling of hair is more in line with other Elven races. His formerly proud beard has been shaved cleanly, as it had begun to grow faint and wispy, while his cowl of hair is kept long, but styled in a manner more akin to a Maiden than the braids of a bestial race.

While many aspects of his appearance are carefully cultivated to subvert stereotypes of his people, Aarcon's claw-like nails remain untouched, unaltered. This is also a calculated decision; while he's done much to assimilate aesthetically with nobility, the claws are meant to indicate a steel beneath his formal manner.

PERSONALITY

Personality Traits:
✥ Weary | Perhaps best defined by his sense of existential ennui, Aarcon finds the normal course of his life to be tedious. Accordingly, will take measures to change this.
✥ Intrepid | Will perform the audacious and outrageous to pluck himself out of his tedium. The scale of the endeavor, the risk attached, the consequences; these are all irrelevant.
✥ Logician | Although his intrepid ambitions carry him into the realms of the irrational, Aarcon has a great capacity for logic and debating, a skilled master of rhetoric.
✥ Unfettered | Aarcon understands the normal operative behaviors of various societies – not just his own, thanks to his occupation – but views them as secondary to his own desperate pursuits.

Strengths:
The ability to analyze situations from a variety of opposing perspectives.
The willingness to operate unbound by morality or reason.
A talent for presenting outlandish ideas in appealing morsels.

Weaknesses:
A tendency to succumb to lethargy, intense bouts of anxious depression.
While his own willingness to act irrationally is sometimes to his benefit, is inevitably blindsided when another party acts contrary to expected logic.
Will oft over-commit to unlikely endeavors.

Quirks:
The only thing that terrifies him as much as earthly insignificance is the prospect of dancing.

MBPT: ENTP

D&D Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

DETAILS

Inventory:
- Various treatises, most pertaining to teachings of logic and rhetoric.
- A back-brace to force rigid uprightness.
- A strangely large medley of quills.
- A seal representing his status as Lyf's Consul, similar in practice to the crest of the nobles.

Occupation: Consul, Diplomat promoting the interests of Lecara Territory, primarily Lyf.

Education: Informal, though stringent, instruction on workings of politics, diplomacy and rhetoric, the quality of which rose as the Lecara territory elves became more versed in such matters. Centuries of expertise.

Character Arcs/Plots: A constant quest of desperation to cement his place in the world by being the instigator or catalyst of some pinnacle moment in history. His efforts to do so – all caused by some drastic existential crisis and need for grand validation – may or may not prove troublesome to the stability of the realm.

The idea of pulling the Rughena tribes, insular Lecyri foreign to him, into a more global context (likely to be in a less than harmonious manner) appeals greatly to Aarcon.

RELATIONS

Social

• Inundata Coreal Lesolis; Former Instructor of Logics, Elven
• Nindrol Inaren; Former Instructor of Foreign Culture, Elven
• Ruven Ralow; Bodyguard/Hairstylist, Human
• Theodemar Luqirelle; Understudy, Elven

*Listed elves are Lecyri.

Familial

• Kuornos Zulat; Father
• Kenia Dara Zulat; Mother

ARMAMENTS

Magic Tier(s): Low, Middling

Attuned Element(s): Earth, Theurgy

Fleuntia: Solis

Main Weapon: Innate strength coupled with the typical razor-nails of the Lecyri. Far from a trained combatant, Aarcon's "edge" in battle is a frenetic willingness to throw his size around.

Secondary Weapon: Protocol and common sense dictate that Aarcon carries a weapon on excursions. He favors a wooden bludgeon. Although he has no particular training in its usage, the weapon is… thankfully self-explanatory.

HISTORY

Born on a cold, melancholic Winter night, Aarcon's youth was nonetheless defined by warmth of Lyf's hustle and bustle, a period of social growth and impressive commerce. Young Aarcon, even before he could utter a single word, or muster movement on his own two legs, understood inherently the beauty in all of it; members of all races peddling their wares, the jovial bedlam of a burgeoning society.

It was a Life in Freneticism, and it was perfect.

Known as a clever (sometimes overly so) child, Aarcon was a favorite of his instructors, impressing them with both mischievous wit and a stalwart studious nature. Extroverted, and a confident orator with a knack for wordplay, he was pushed towards literary endeavors, both as an expression of artistry and for the practicable goal of communication.

The latter focus appealed to Aarcon, as he had heard tales of the diplomats that came and went. Sometimes they would rave of glorious processions, other times they would whisper in hushed tones of ominous signs of conflict. In both cases, Aarcon was magnetized; to see the world, to experience it in all its wonder and horror, would be ever so lovely.

For a while, this was true.

From Kingsport to Arora, to the Skyport of Caershire, it was all beautiful. To his credit, Aarcon was an incredibly promising Emissary, serving as understudy and assistant to the Consul that forged the lucrative trading agreement between Lyf and Queensport. As the decades past, Aarcon would become a full-fledged Consul in his own right, deftly positioning Lyf to usurp other entities of their spot in upcoming trade treaties, shooting down tariffs that would negatively impact Lyf's economy.

So much flowered and meaningless rhetoric.

So many formal dinners being fed wondrous food and masked cordiality.

So much tedious paperwork.

Suddenly Kingsport and Arora weren't quite so lovely. And the Skyport of Caershire wasn't quite so impressive.

It was a Life in Stasis, and it was horrifying.

WRITING SAMPLE

As far as the scholarly pursuit of diplomacy was concerned, there were academic debates as to the significance of festive events, of galas. There were questions posed, for example, of where they stood in relation to what was traditionally regarded as the core of diplomacy; of negotiation, of terms, of verbal riposte and counter-riposte. When Aarcon Iasra Zulat, born in a period of uplifting for his ilk, studied the art of diplomacy, it was the words and content that was held paramount above all else.

Advocates belonging to opposed schools of thought rose amongst the ascendants of Lecyrian diplomacy, stating that the spectacle often trumped the negotiations and agreements, the inflection of one's rhetoric taking precedence over the meaning of one's words, that the beauty of the ball transcended the earnestness of the pact. When he was young, and far removed from his stature as a well-regarded Consul, scholarly debates such as these had given him some measure of dread.

Then, sadly, it was simply because Aarcon could not dance to absolve himself from oblivion.

The Lecyrian had to admit, there was merriment and joy to be found in events like these, however fleeting. He sometimes found solace in remembering confetti, floating in permanence thanks to some Theurgist. Or perhaps some particularly bored Air Elementals. He remembered decades ago, how Lady Areila danced, and how they marvelled at her grace, the ease in which she moved her frame, a whirling dervish of cloth. She had earned herself great presence and renown that day, and tales were told of how marvelous her dress was, that beautiful dress colored…

… Aarcon found that he could not remember what color it had been. A pity.

For the moment, however, the atmosphere was acceptable. He had made himself an observer, a difficult task given his large stature. He watched the Lords and Ladies as they postured, bodies contorted by the tension of pretense even in celebration. Some, granted, were well and truly taken by the festivities. But the ones Aarcon cared for were in full collection of their facilities, eminently conscious of their body language.

Words pierced through the mire of thoughtfulness and sent cold chills stabbing through the Lecyrian's vertebrae.

"Ah, Consul Aarcon Iasra Zulat of Lyf! Would you care to…"

This was frightening, for almost three hundred years later, Aarcon had still not learned how to dance.

 

[rissa]

@Shizuochan

Accepted! You may create a Character Roster and place your Full CS within it! Once you've done so I'll archive your app (this thread), but it'll still be viewable within the Vault! You may create a second character, if you wish to do so.

There is currently no starting date for Roseblood but I'll be PMing you within the week as to how your character plot will intertwine with the overall plot. Feel free to spark a Discussion page with those who've also been accepted or to get further ideas out in the open.

 

[Bears]

GENERAL

Name: Persephone De Chalons
Pronunciation: Per-Sef-Onee Day Sha-lons
Nickname: Seph (Abbv.)
Titles: Entertainer / Spy
Species: Human
Date of Birth: Winter, Month 5
Age: Twenty seven
Place of Birth: Goldenwine Grove, Arora
Storyline: Roseblood

"A subtle smile, the bat of an eyelash, a longing glance from across the floor. Each and every action you make in court is observed, measured and twisted in hopes that it can be used against you. Tis' truly the deadliest dance; and one in which I know all the steps."

DETAILS

Paragraph Character Concept: Strikingly gorgeous and armed with a tongue that is as sweet as it is poisonous, Persephone is both the best and worse of what the Court has to offer. She moves across the ballroom with finesse, doing whatever might be necessary to further both her employer and her own ambitions, with the latter obviously taking priority. For the entirety of her adult life, Persephone has lied, poisoned and loved her way to the position of power she holds now.

To most of the people in attendance of grand balls, she appears as a sultry beauty encapsulating the attention of men and women alike while she dances and socializes with the elite. But to those who know better, Persephone is perhaps one of the most dangerous figures in the room -- a political mercenary for hire who is capable of sabotaging the tightest alliances and ruining the most earnest of reputations so long as her employer is paying more than her mark.

Character Arc(s): Persephone aims to situate herself in a position where few will be able to touch her. In trying to accomplish this she has grown jarringly addicted to the seductive and ultimately dangerous life of a spy/assassin. She's yet to meet her match as a spy though as she takes on bigger jobs this is definitely subject to change.

Character Plot(s): Her addiction coupled with her thirst for power might just lead her to taking on jobs that affect the realm as a whole, rather than its nobles' politics. So fittingly, Orcosi and Marsea's Annual Springtime Galas is where her eyes are currently set.

MBTI: ENFP

D&D Alignment: Neutral Evil

Attuned Element(s): Water

Fleuntia: Luna

Weapons and Proficiency: While her strongest weapon might be her charm, Persephone has had her fair share of physical encounters with other agents and spies. In these moments tucked away in the darkest corners of mansions and palaces Persephone has relied on her agility and knife work to come out the victor.

Persephone has also taken an interest to poison and has studied it fervently over the years. She's well educated on its common forms/application and decently prepared against any outlying versions other spies might use to kill her or her employers.

Her hidden knives and stilettos are often laced with such poison and can be thrown or wielded in order to apply various debilitating effects.

WRITING SAMPLE

The night had come quickly and soon, so did the crowd. Lady Comtette's Annual Winter Ball was in full effect, the eldest of five's mansion and her renown garden decorated in sheer white and various crystal like fixtures. Nobles of varying degrees filled the vestibules and chambers with drinks in their hands, smiles plastered, and of course -- masks on.

The Gala was not a masquerade, however. The eldest Comtette found those types of affair rather out of fashion after all. But Persephone had learned from very early on that masks come in more forms than just physically.

The entertainer seemed to glide as she made her way across the garden's courtyard, her raven colored hair gorgeously contrasting the crystal adorned gown draped on her frame.

The Comtette family watched her, as well as all the others, from a large balcony above the garden. The five siblings were sat at a table, each one with a goblet of red wine intertwined in their fingers. Persephone came to the Gala to see that its hostess was dead before the night's end. The goblet was her choice of weapon.

An eager noble approached the entertainer for a dance around the same time Lady Comtette's youngest, and Persephone's employer, stood up to address the crowd. Persephone obliged the younger man's request and took his hand in hers, a smile growing on her lips. Together, they spun across the floor with the dark haired beauty leading her counterpart with both experience and grace.

"Good evening everyone! I am so glad that my dear eldest sister has given me the opportunity to address you all this year. On behalf of me and my sib-" The youngest began above before suddenly halting. The youngest Comtette's following expression was confused at first, but as an intense burning sensation ran from her chest and up into her throat she realized what had happened. Down below Persephone simply kept on dancing.

The youngest Comtette began to choke violently as her body painfully betrayed her. The gorgeous white drapes hung from the balcony were stained red with her blood. The crowd stood silent and shocked. Persephone finished her dance with a grand drop. The spy smiled widely as the noble held her for a moment in that picturesque position.

Luckily for her, the eldest Comtette had always been the biggest spender in the family.

 

[rissa]

@B l u E s

Overall he looks good but there's a few things I want to clarify. (And one thing that needs to be edited. In the General box, Storyline/Plot is referring to one of the three available storylines. Roseblood, Woes of Men, and the Stars of Skaarsburg.) Rughena isn't as civilized as you may think. Very few Rughena born Lecyrian's ever leave their island home. There are a select few, however, usually ones living near the coast where small human and elven populations have sprung up. Education is basic, in the heart of their island, but everyone within the tribes are given one before their coming-of-age ceremonies. For greater education, one would have to venture from Rughena and study at a college along the Marsean coast.

Other than that Thrall looks good and is accepted. I'll be PMing you within the week to talk character plot points. Feel free to create a second character if you wish to do so, or spark a Discussion thread for plotting purposes.

Edit: Also, I'll fix your code here in a few.

 

[B l u E s]

@B l u E s

Overall he looks good but there's a few things I want to clarify. (And one thing that needs to be edited. In the General box, Storyline/Plot is referring to one of the three available storylines. Roseblood, Woes of Men, and the Stars of Skaarsburg.) Rughena isn't as civilized as you may think. Very few Rughena born Lecyrian's ever leave their island home. There are a select few, however, usually ones living near the coast where small human and elven populations have sprung up. Education is basic, in the heart of their island, but everyone within the tribes are given one before their coming-of-age ceremonies. For greater education, one would have to venture from Rughena and study at a college along the Marsean coast.

Other than that Thrall looks good and is accepted. I'll be PMing you within the week to talk character plot points. Feel free to create a second character if you wish to do so, or spark a Discussion thread for plotting purposes.

Edit: Also, I'll fix your code here in a few.

Ok, so I have to edit a bit the history?
Basically... The two older sibling studied away from Rughena and they lived on the coast (since they are merchants)?

and I realized about the storyline/plot hahaha I added it but I wasnt sure xD I'll edit that as well.

 

[rissa]

Ok, so I have to edit a bit the history?
Basically... The two older sibling studied away from Rughena and they lived on the coast (since they are merchants)?

Yeah, just make it a bit clearer that they were oddities. It would make sense if they were attuned to High Elements as well, giving them a need to travel for education. High Elemental attunements usually go unnurtured in Rughena, so one who went away to study and came back would be an excellent example as to why Aleecia is so influential within her tribe.

 

[rissa]

@BearEnthusiast

I love Persephone so far! Go ahead and fill out your full CS within this thread!

A few things to note, just because I'm a stickler like that. LOL. Make sure to do your research with the poisons and the like! Assassin and spies will play a role in Roseblood, and I see a perfect role for Persephone, just make sure she's well rounded and knows what she's doing while using her poison.

 

[Bears]

PERSEPHONE

Lady of the Court, Spymaster for hire.

"When you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him."

GENERAL

Name: Persephone De Chalons
Pronunciation: Per-Sef-Onee Day Shal-Ons
Titles: Spymaster
Species: Human
Date of Birth: Winter, Month 10
Zodiac: The Uamyr
Age: Twenty seven years old
Place of Birth: Goldenwine Grove, Arora

Storyline/Plot: Roseblood

"A subtle smile, the bat of an eyelash, a longing glance from across the floor. Each and every action you make in court is observed, measured and twisted in hopes that it can be used against you. Tis' truly the deadliest dance; and one in which I know all the steps."

APPEARANCE

Eye Color: Amber
Hair Color: Raven Black
Hair Style/Length: Shoulder length and naturally wavy, most often fixed into whatever modest styles are deemed fashionable.
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 134lb
Body Type: Lithe and athletic.
Body Modifications/Accessories: Pierced ears.

Written Appearance: Persephone is a striking woman, regardless if she's on the ballroom floor or not. With her long dark locks contrasted by a pair of rarity in form of golden eyes, she is abundantly feminine in stature and the object of desire of plenty of nobles within Arora. Her limbs are athletic and well practiced -- a pay off from years of dancing and knifeplay.

As a woman of her reputation should, Persephone is almost always well dressed with noticeable a penchant for darker reds, purples and blacks for her wardrobe. Persephone believes that less is more when it comes to style however, and is unlikely to be seen in anything overly eccentric or outlandish.

Beyond that Persephone moves with grace and a seemingly natural sense of sensuality. Though there are more conventionally attractive women on the court, few can actually match the sultry and seductive presence that seems to radiate from the black haired beauty.

PERSONALITY

Personality Traits:
♡ Pompous |Years of success in her field has led Persephone to become cocky.
♡ Charismatic | Charisma is the base of any thriving court figure and Persephone certainly isn't lacking that department.
♡ Political | Each sweet gesture, and every honeyed word she whisperers is planned in accordance with her own agenda.
♡ Questioning l Though she'd love to believe otherwise, a part of Persephone wonders if climbing the political ladder is worth the cost of her soul.

Strengths:
An immense understanding of court, nobility, and the art of secrets.
A natural people's person. She knows how to get what she wants from others.
Decently agile in physical combat.

Weaknesses:
Morally bankrupt and self-questioning.
Doesn't handle failure or mistakes well at all.
Relatively light/frail.

Quirks: She is far from a stranger regarding sex, but has had few true romantic relationships.

D&D Alignment: Neutral Evil

DETAILS

Inventory:
♡ A series of knives hidden away in different parts of her person (positions change daily)
♡ A silver pendant with her family's insignia marked on it
♡ An expensive hand fan
♡ A silk scarlet colored scarf

Occupation: Political Spymaster for hire, with generally fluid loyalties and noticeable lack of limits. Persephone however, does not do anything regarding children and/or cute animals.

Education: Throughout her child Persephone attended classes of both logical and social nature. She excelled in both.

Character Arcs/Plots: Persephone aims to situate herself in a position where few will be able to touch her. In trying to accomplish this she has grown jarringly addicted to the seductive and ultimately dangerous life of a spy/assassin. This addiction is in direct conflict with the fact that she is beginning to question her lack of morals.

Family Crest: The De Chalon's crest's imagery consists of a grand golden lion crushing a snake underneath it's fearsome claw.

RELATIONS

Social
♡ Alison Du'Parquette; Fellow spy/occasional ally

♡ Alexander Grant; Fellow spy/on-and-off lover

♡ Various other nobles of varying degrees of importance

Familial
♡ Gaspard De Chalons; Father

♡ Ophelia De Chalons; Mother

♡ Gregory De Chalons; Half-brother (older)

♡ Anthony De Chalons; Half-brother (older)

♡ Oscar De Chalons; Half-brother (younger)

♡ Coriann Abernathy; Biological mother (deceased)

ARMAMENTS

Magic Tier(s): Lower

Attuned Element(s): Water

Fleuntia: Luna

Main Weapon: In physical combat and in most of her assassination jobs, Persephone relies on quick, precise and intelligent knife work in order to come out successful. Along with using them in melee, Persephone's proficiency in knives extend to throwing them with decent accuracy and at respectable distances.

Secondary Weapon: When a quick slice across one's throat isn't an option, Persephone turns to poison and the various applications it has in order to complete an assassination. More time than not however, it takes some clever thinking from the spymaster to work around those like her who are attuned to water.

HISTORY

Persephone's father Gaspard was a good man who did not let the aristocracy of Goldenwine Grove manipulate him into changing his ideals. He believed that one should pursue what they were passionate about in order to experience a life well lived, regardless of what might be expected of them. An anomaly among the noble house leaders in the Grove, Gaspard was nonetheless respected by his peers for being an honest, well meaning man.

And so it should be no surprise that Gaspard would often spend plenty of evenings relaying accounts to the young girl about the woman who he had truly fallen in love with far after he had already been married. He told Persephone of how he intended to spend the rest of his life with that woman, even if it meant giving up his household's name. He told her about how full of love she was and how passionate she regarded life.

One day he even mustered up the courage to tell Persephone that this woman's very last gift to him was her -- his one and only daughter.

Her father's love affair was no secret and the De Chalons household was turbulent at best, a verbal war zone at worst. Gaspard's wife, Ophelia, might have grown to eventually forgive him however had there not been a constant reminder of his betrayal in the form of Persephone.

Tragedy truly struck when her loving father caught the plague when Persephone was twelve and died when she was fourteen, leaving her to the mercy of her scorned and incredibly bitter stepmother as well as her equally spiteful half brothers. In a matter of weeks she went from a blossoming young noblewoman, who the court loved dearly, to nothing better than a household servant. Persephone spent most of her early teen years watching the crowds of her mother's autumn galas from the servant's quarters where she then slept.

Persephone was sixteen when she caught the eyes of a handsome, charming noble man well into his thirties. His name was Nathaniel Du'Lyon and underneath the muck and grime coating the young woman he saw an undeniable beauty and most importantly to him, potential. He offered to buy Persephone and her mother -- who at that point considered the servant little beyond an eyesore -- took his gold with a smile.

She was whisked away from her life of servitude and found herself once more involved in the life of a noble living in the picturesque Grove. While Nathaniel might have saved her from her mother, he was far from the honorable man her father was. A promiscuous and morally bankrupt assassin for hire, he knowingly took advantage of her, a young woman who was just grateful for another chance at life. He was her first lover and mentor in the world of political intrigue.

He taught her everything he knew and believing that she was in love, Persephone obeyed whatever he asked of her. She became a fearsome and morally unbound spymaster in likeness to him and remained faithful to him for the majority of her adulthood. Eventually, Nathaniel preferred the idea of retiring with his wife rather than remaining with his long-term mistress.

Heartbroken she entered the darkest stages of her life where depression consumed her, this is where she took on the darkest jobs and got higher on the political ladder than she had ever been before.

She was saved once more however, when her work brought her to the presence of a non-human who's calm confidence and hope for change reminded her of her father. Though they may have not been of the same species, she grew to love him as he had grown to love her. For this man, she was ready to stop the self-destructive path Nathaniel set her on.

But then without warning, Nathaniel came back into her life with full force. As a victim of abuse tends to do when they remain in close proximity to their abuser, she could not help but fall right back into his hands. As he ordered, Persephone lead her non-human lover far from where eyes could see and watched as Nathaniel's other apprentices dragged him off to be thrown off of a cliff.

From that moment on, she has never been the same. In the present she continues her work for Nathaniel but with each mission he sends her on, Persephone sets up piece by piece. To assassinate a noble, one needs to know their plan as well as a bard knows their lute.

But to assassinate a master assassin, Persephone was going to need nothing short of an entire orchestra.

WRITING SAMPLE

The night had come quickly and soon, so did the crowd. Lady Comtette's Annual Winter Ball was in full effect, the eldest of five's mansion and her renown garden decorated in sheer white and various crystal like fixtures. Nobles of varying degrees filled the vestibules and chambers with drinks in their hands, smiles plastered, and of course -- masks on.

The Gala was not a masquerade, however. The eldest Comtette found those types of affair rather out of fashion after all. But Persephone had learned from very early on that masks come in more forms than just physically.

The entertainer seemed to glide as she made her way across the garden's courtyard, her raven colored hair gorgeously contrasting the crystal adorned gown draped on her frame.

The Comtette family watched her, as well as all the others, from a large balcony above the garden. The five siblings were sat at a table, each one with a goblet of red wine intertwined in their fingers. Persephone came to the Gala to see that its hostess was dead before the night's end. The goblet was her choice of weapon.

An eager noble approached the entertainer for a dance around the same time Lady Comtette's youngest, and Persephone's employer, stood up to address the crowd. Persephone obliged the younger man's request and took his hand in hers, a smile growing on her lips. Together, they spun across the floor with the dark haired beauty leading her counterpart with both experience and grace.

"Good evening everyone! I am so glad that my dear eldest sister has given me the opportunity to address you all this year. On behalf of me and my sib-" The youngest began above before suddenly halting. The youngest Comtette's following expression was confused at first, but as an intense burning sensation ran from her chest and up into her throat she realized what had happened. Down below Persephone simply kept on dancing.

The youngest Comtette began to choke violently as her body painfully betrayed her. The gorgeous white drapes hung from the balcony were stained red with her blood. The crowd stood silent and shocked. Persephone finished her dance with a grand drop. The spy smiled widely as the noble held her for a moment in that picturesque position.

Luckily for her, the eldest Comtette had always been the biggest spender in the family.

 

[rissa]

just gotta do the history!

psssssst and eye color!!! i love her already tho ahhhhh

edit: tag me when you're finished so i know when to look!!

 

[B l u E s]

PERSEPHONE

Lady of the Court, Spymaster for hire.

"When you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him."

GENERAL

Name: Persephone De Chalons
Pronunciation: Per-Sef-Onee Day Shal-Ons
Titles: Spymaster
Species: Human
Date of Birth: Winter, Month 10
Zodiac: The Uamyr
Age: Twenty seven years old
Place of Birth: Goldenwine Grove, Arora

Storyline/Plot: Roseblood

"A subtle smile, the bat of an eyelash, a longing glance from across the floor. Each and every action you make in court is observed, measured and twisted in hopes that it can be used against you. Tis' truly the deadliest dance; and one in which I know all the steps."

APPEARANCE

Eye Color:
Hair Color: Raven Black
Hair Style/Length: Shoulder length and naturally wavy, most often fixed into whatever modest styles are deemed fashionable.
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 134lb
Body Type: Lithe and athletic.
Body Modifications/Accessories: Pierced ears.

Written Appearance: Persephone is a striking woman, regardless if she's on the ballroom floor or not. With her long dark locks contrasted by a pair of rarity in form of golden eyes, she is abundantly feminine in stature and the object of desire of plenty of nobles within Arora. Her limbs are athletic and well practiced -- a pay off from years of dancing and knifeplay.

As a woman of her stature should, Persephone is almost always well dressed with noticeable a penchant for darker reds, purples and blacks for her wardrobe. Persephone believes that less is more when it comes to style however, and is unlikely to be seen in anything overly eccentric or outlandish.

Beyond that Persephone moves with grace and a seemingly natural sense of sensuality. Though there are more conventionally attractive women on the court, few can actually match the sultry and seductive presence that seems to radiate from the black haired beauty.

PERSONALITY

Personality Traits:
♡ Pompous |Years of success in her field has led Persephone to become cocky.
♡ Charismatic | Charisma is the base of any thriving court figure and Persephone certainly isn't lacking that department.
♡ Political | Each sweet gesture, and every honeyed word she whisperers is planned in accordance with her own agenda.
♡ Questioning l Though she'd love to believe otherwise, a part of Persephone wonders if climbing the political ladder is worth the cost of her soul.

Strengths:
An immense understanding of court, nobility, and the art of secrets.
A natural people's person. She knows how to get what she wants from others.
Decently agile in physical combat.

Weaknesses:
Morally bankrupt and self-questioning.
Doesn't handle failure or mistakes well at all.
Relatively light/frail.

Quirks: She is far from a stranger regarding sex, but has had few true romantic relationships.

D&D Alignment: Neutral Evil

DETAILS

Inventory:
♡ A series of knives hidden away in different parts of her person (positions change daily)
♡ A silver pendant with her family's insignia marked on it
♡ An expensive hand fan
♡ A silk scarlet colored scarf

Occupation: Political Spymaster for hire, with generally fluid loyalties and noticeable lack of limits. Persephone however, does not do anything regarding children and/or cute animals.

Education: Throughout her child Persephone attended classes of both logical and social nature. She excelled in both.

Character Arcs/Plots: Persephone aims to situate herself in a position where few will be able to touch her. In trying to accomplish this she has grown jarringly addicted to the seductive and ultimately dangerous life of a spy/assassin. This addiction is in direct conflict with the fact that she is beginning to question her lack of morals.

Family Crest: The De Chalon's crest's imagery consists of a grand golden lion crushing a snake underneath it's fearsome claw.

RELATIONS

Social
♡ Alison Du'Parquette; Fellow spy/occasional ally

♡ Alexander Grant; Fellow spy/on-and-off lover

♡ Various other nobles of varying degrees of importance

Familial
♡ Gaspard De Chalons; Father

♡ Ophelia De Chalons; Mother

♡ Gregory De Chalons; Half-brother (older)

♡ Anthony De Chalons; Half-brother (older)

♡ Oscar De Chalons; Half-brother (younger)

♡ Coriann Abernathy; Biological mother (deceased)

ARMAMENTS

Magic Tier(s): Lower

Attuned Element(s): Water

Fleuntia: Luna

Main Weapon: In physical combat and in most of her assassination jobs, Persephone relies on quick, precise and intelligent knife work in order to come out successful. Along with using them in melee, Persephone's proficiency in knives extend to throwing them with decent accuracy and at respectable distances.

Secondary Weapon: When a quick slice across one's throat isn't an option, Persephone turns to poison and the various applications it has in order to complete an assassination. More time than not however, it takes some clever thinking from the spymaster to work around those like her who are attuned to water.

HISTORY

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Nunc ultrices purus quis metus luctus, sed vestibulum odio commodo. Ut auctor laoreet ornare. Ut scelerisque tortor sit amet erat consectetur dignissim. Duis bibendum diam arcu, quis dapibus libero blandit vel. Mauris lobortis auctor neque, quis dictum sapien gravida eu. Etiam consequat maximus ex, non auctor sapien sagittis convallis. Praesent tincidunt dignissim eleifend. Mauris euismod libero ut rhoncus congue. Nunc a accumsan velit. Curabitur porta vulputate quam ut bibendum. Phasellus felis nunc, accumsan facilisis rhoncus dapibus, hendrerit ut diam. Aenean consectetur sem elementum diam condimentum, pellentesque volutpat tellus fringilla. Integer quis erat vulputate mauris iaculis venenatis. Mauris sit amet nibh ut orci dictum cursus ac ut enim. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Aliquam non faucibus dui.

Nullam dictum nulla sed felis congue scelerisque. Donec egestas nec nisl at pellentesque. Vivamus pellentesque aliquet est, a dapibus turpis pharetra quis. Ut ultricies sagittis arcu, placerat venenatis nisl. Maecenas eu dolor tincidunt, eleifend nunc sit amet, facilisis leo. Nulla id iaculis tellus. In lacinia tortor non ligula hendrerit viverra. Integer non tellus nec neque mattis facilisis. Donec sed sapien sit amet lacus suscipit egestas. Cras neque justo, ultricies eu est in, tempus molestie nunc. Cras sit amet odio non velit vehicula finibus.

WRITING SAMPLE

The night had come quickly and soon, so did the crowd. Lady Comtette's Annual Winter Ball was in full effect, the eldest of five's mansion and her renown garden decorated in sheer white and various crystal like fixtures. Nobles of varying degrees filled the vestibules and chambers with drinks in their hands, smiles plastered, and of course -- masks on.

The Gala was not a masquerade, however. The eldest Comtette found those types of affair rather out of fashion after all. But Persephone had learned from very early on that masks come in more forms than just physically.

The entertainer seemed to glide as she made her way across the garden's courtyard, her raven colored hair gorgeously contrasting the crystal adorned gown draped on her frame.

The Comtette family watched her, as well as all the others, from a large balcony above the garden. The five siblings were sat at a table, each one with a goblet of red wine intertwined in their fingers. Persephone came to the Gala to see that its hostess was dead before the night's end. The goblet was her choice of weapon.

An eager noble approached the entertainer for a dance around the same time Lady Comtette's youngest, and Persephone's employer, stood up to address the crowd. Persephone obliged the younger man's request and took his hand in hers, a smile growing on her lips. Together, they spun across the floor with the dark haired beauty leading her counterpart with both experience and grace.

"Good evening everyone! I am so glad that my dear eldest sister has given me the opportunity to address you all this year. On behalf of me and my sib-" The youngest began above before suddenly halting. The youngest Comtette's following expression was confused at first, but as an intense burning sensation ran from her chest and up into her throat she realized what had happened. Down below Persephone simply kept on dancing.

The youngest Comtette began to choke violently as her body painfully betrayed her. The gorgeous white drapes hung from the balcony were stained red with her blood. The crowd stood silent and shocked. Persephone finished her dance with a grand drop. The spy smiled widely as the noble held her for a moment in that picturesque position.

Luckily for her, the eldest Comtette had always been the biggest spender in the family.

just gotta do the history!​

AHAH @Radio Jelly, it's gonna be war between our characters if they ever meet this femme fatale xD

 

[Radio Jelly]

Mine's clearly the better match.

 

[B l u E s]

Mine's clearly the better match.

LOL, as if giiiiirl. My character is THE SHIT xD Isnt he @BearEnthusiast

 

[Effervescent]

GENERAL

Name: Lore Kalvisi

Pronunciation: Lohr Kal-vee-SEE

Nickname: N/A

Species: Sylphaer

Date of Birth: Thunderwind, The Gryphon

Age: 231

Place of Birth: The Skies above Aurora

Storyline: Roseblood

"Life is full of unexplained mysteries. One must have the courage to risk it all for a chance to solve just one."

DETAILS

1 Paragraph Character Concept: He is a curious, yet distant sort, observing the world with a bit of disconnect. But he has his insecurities which carefully craft the walls to which harbor his aloof nature. Outwardly, he's a rather seemingly cold individual as he assesses life and all its nuances with logic as if it were nothing more than words on a page to be solved. Inwardly is a storm of conflict that not only causes a bit of a selfish nature, but builds a belief that he is alone. He does not wish to be alone, and yet he has difficulties seeing that he is not as isolated as he feels.


Character Arc(s):

• The search for the magic of friendship!
• The change from distant to empathetic.

Character Plot(s):

• platonic/romantic relationships
• anything with moral conflicts
• divination anyone?

MBTI: INTP

D&D Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Attuned Element(s): Divination, Transmutation

Fleuntia: Luna

Weapons and Proficiency: He is an adept swordsman and wielder of his magic making him a formidable foe both grounded and by air.

WRITING SAMPLE

"You know you are next in line to come of age."

Lore looked over at his father as he spoke, though did not comment on the matter. For the past year he had been reminded by so many he was due to come of age and make his own place in the sky. His fingers brushed along the cloud brick that comprised the interior of his father's home. Even within the architecture was aesthetically pleasing in its intricacies. The standards where high and the bar set, and even in this grand prospect he was still unsure of what was to be expected of him. He knew what was to come, and he dreaded it.

"You also need to begin to Walk the Path of Guidance," his father continued. Lore frowned at that, his eyes rolling at the tradition which set his father's jaw.

"What would I learn that is not already documented?" Lore challenged. He only did so for selfish reasons. Leaving his own kind meant willing isolation among people who would not understand or care.

"It is perhaps one of the most important ventures of your lifetime," his father continued, his tone now more cold and severe. "We had hoped you would journey and take this walk on your own. This is something you must do, Lore. It is time you learn of the surface dwellers face to face. Experience a life outside your own."

He wanted to protest, but at this point it was clear this was not a debate. Disappointment ran through him, but he nodded both in understanding and agreement. "I will do so," Lore said.

And so it was set that his days would become less regimented and scheduled. For over two hundred years he knew the ins and outs of his life from studies to practices in the art of combat and magic. He set out from the third tier balcony to fly to his teacher's own sky castle just across the way. Dark wings beat against the cold air and rushed among the clouds until he fluttered upon the balcony of Davant Geor who walked out into the open.

"This was purely happenstance," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I had no idea you were coming. Just here to water my little potted plants. What do you want today, Lore?"

"I am to Walk the Path of Guidance," he explained.

"About time you got off your lazy ass," she muttered.

"I wanted to divine with you one last time before I left," Lore continued as he brushed away her comment. His furrowed brow still lingered to show his displeasure in her opinions, but she did not seem to care how her words affected him.

"You don't need me to hold your hand anymore," she said as she tilted her watering can along her flower beds. Lore pursed his thin lips and shook his head somewhat in a thought. Did they not wish to be a part of his life until he proved himself more like his kin? He did not understand their shift in demeanor towards him as of late, and it was beginning to become abrasive.

"Then may I use your materials?" Lore asked. Davant sighed and set her watering can down.

"Fine, fine," she said with a huff. It made Lore's stomach churn to see his teacher in such a state against him, but he followed her into her estate without commentary. She never did like to let someone else use her supplies unsupervised. Perhaps he was being a tad manipulative in that regard.

It was perhaps the last time he would have to spend with his long-time teacher for a few years. While his kind lived long lives, he found that even a year in passing was still quite slow, and he knew he would find himself eventually homesick for his scheduled norm. Adventure awaited him in less than a day, and even with this small gesture he felt a rising eagerness to get it all over with so he return to a comfortable life among his own kind.

 

[rissa]

HE'S WONDERFUL. THE FIRST SYLPHAER. YAAAAAS.

Go ahead and fill out your full CS app within this thread! Once completed and accepted, this thread will be archived tho still viewable from the Vault.

 

[Bears]

@rissa

Eye color and history added! Hopefully through her background I present a better idea of what kind of person Persephone truly is. :-)

 

[rissa]

If it's the roster, you need to put it in a new thread with the appropriate prefix ;)

Full CS don't get posted within a roster until officially approved. You and I just had a miscommunication but all is fixed! c;

 

[rissa]

@BearEnthusiast

Accepted! You may post Seph's FULL CS in your own Character Roster thread. This app will be archived once you've done so. You can find the this thread in the Vault. Feel free to create a second character if you wish to do so, or spark up a Discussion thread for plotting purposes.

Along with that, please copy/paste your character arcs/plots into a PM between you and I.