The Golden City <> Sign-up and OOC thread

[GuardianOfHearts]

The sun sets, and a fire seems to ignite over the land. You shield your eyes against the blaze, and miles ahead of you on this flat land looms something hugely vast: you think to yourself, Is it a mountain, a mirage, or has the sunlight hardened into stone before me? For what you see certainly looks as though it was built from dull sunshine. However, it is none of these things. It is a city.

Yes, a city, one created almost entirely from smooth desert-yellow stone that seems to drink in the sunset. It is tall and wide, almost impossibly so, but that it because it is built upon tiers that are each maybe a mile or half long. You try to count the levels, but you lose track. Eighteen, twenty, twenty-three? Somewhere around that.

Here and there, from close-set buildings, a tower will rise, and at the top, what must be a palace sits like a crown. Amidst the dusty gold stone are snatches of lush green, showing that there are, in fact, trees and other plants.

Outside of the city, people are gathered near the river that passes by, doing this or that while watched by a peaceful herd of horses- or are they gazelles? –in the distance. But now, everyone is hurrying to get back inside. Here, apparently, it isn’t good to be out after dark.

What the city itself lacks in color makes up for it in the incredible variety of its people. A cacophony of languages and a muddle of faces make up the population. And despite all the hustle and bustle, it seems to be relatively peaceful, prosperous; and yet you are warned, even now behind the sturdy walls, to find a place to stay during the night. And this seems odd, for what could be so dangerous here, amidst music, magic, and laughter, in- where are you?

Welcome to the Golden City of Ledonaath.


+You just read….

Yep, that’s the plot right there. Nice, free-form, character-driven. Here your creativity can go nearly unlimited. Within reason, I’m giving you free rein over everything from flora and fauna to culture. This city is a melting pot, if you haven’t realized.

But just because I didn’t strap you down with a set of storylines doesn’t mean that it’s totally lazy. No, lots of things can and will happen, and you can make them up too. Just remember to read the rules!


+Where did you say we are?

I explained some in the opening. Ledonaath is more often referred to as the Golden City because of its darkly-gold color. Like I mentioned, levels, twenty-eight of them to be exact, build it up. They connect to a tall cliff behind it. The terrain is a grassland/savannah type. The Windlewyth River wraps around the city, continuing further on to the ocean, several miles away. Ledonaath has several parks built in it, a couple taking up entire levels. This has attracted its own animals, though there are menageries that keep most of them. Stables are built on every level for "beasts of burden" {horses, ostriches, zebras....} that make travel in the city possible.

The city is peaceful. Yes, there are rogues in it, and murderers, and other ne'er-do-wells like any city, but Ledonaath does not war. It has no army, only Guards that make up the law enforcement and Sentries who watch and control traffic going in and out. Because it is such an important center for trade, no one seems inclined to try and lay siege to it.

Legend has it that the city was made, hundreds of years ago, by refugees from many different nations fleeing from war. And since then, the tradition of being a nexus for myriad different ethnicities has continued. The city does not condone prejudice, and slavery is illegal. For the most part, there is tolerance, and places of worship for more religions than you can shake a stick at have been built.

And yet, there is not complete repose. It is truly impossible for a city, any city, to be free of all forms of discrimination. Hate crimes are not unheard of, though the City Guards try to work against it.

The lowest few levels, closer to ground level, house mostly people who work on the river; traders who wish to reside closer to the gates; and inns that cater to travelers stopping through. The highest levels, predictably, house the wealthier and/or more important citizens. This is because the last level makes up the palace, where the Royal Council resides and runs the city. Representatives from each level, called Envoys, meet there monthly.

And here is the most peculiar thing about Ledonaath: Being a melting-pot for culture also means being one for magic. Whether or not magic is the cause or merely a magnetic attraction is unsure, but many a strange thing happen in the Golden City, and it is well known that things grow dangerous in the deep hours of the night. People have reported seeing wraiths wandering around after dark, or been confronted by talking statues during the day.

Remember to be on your guard.


+Look, but don’t touch: non-playable characters

The Watchers: Now, these are perhaps the strangest things about the city. No one quite knows what they are, but luckily, they don’t seem to mean anyone harm: they’re actually helpful at times. People speculate that they’re protective spirits who watch over the Golden City and its inhabitants. They come in the form of usually small, strange animals. And most often, you’ll simply catch of glimpse of glowing eyes or a shadow out of the corner of your vision. There have only been a few reported times in history that one of them has spoken to someone, and usually to warn of great danger for the whole city.

The Plague: One of the several malevolent beings that haunt Ledonaath. If it has a name, no one knows it, and for the most part, people are even afraid to name it at all. It comes in the form of a tall, too-thin man, with ashen skin, diseased orange-red eyes, and dark blood-red hair. It slips into houses during the dark of the moon and selects a victim, causing them to instantly turn feverishly ill. Death is always the result, whether after a few days or a few weeks, and no one has yet found a cure.

The Plague seems to be related, in some way, to the four other malevolent spirits that roam during the nights when the moon does not show. They are listed immediately below.

Insanity: The being that comes in the form of a short, feral-looking black-haired woman with yellow eyes and fangs. When seen, it is most often laughing or smirking. As the name implies, it induces madness in people, and generally likes to create chaotic situations.

The Elements: A trinity of beautiful sisters that are made from the essence of fire, water, and air, and have some control over such. They cause destruction when they can. Fires, floods, dust storms, if they come during the dark of the moon, you can bet your life that it’s caused by them. Fortunately for us, they aren't very powerful- only malicious. Clicky clicky, I found a reference pic!


+Follow them, and there will be peace in the kingdom

-->Be LITERATE. If you can't post two paragraphs or more, including satisfying grammar and spelling, I don't want to see you. Don't worry though; I won't bite your head off if you misplace a comma or don't get a word or two right. But there's no excuse for your posts looking as if you typed blindfolded.

-->Remember the guidelines about power-playing and god-moding. Common courtesy, ya know.

-->Keep stuff PG-13, you know the rules.

-->R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Respect me, respect your fellow RPers, respect yourself. I don't want any flaming in my thread. It’s far too pretty for that. The PM system is a wonderful device, remember.

-->No Mary-Sues. If you don't know what a Mary-Sue is, then basically, it's a two-dimensional character. Flat. Boring. Too damn powerful or cliché. I love originality to death. You don't need to have a tortured past to be interesting.
-->You are allowed more than one character. I myself will be controlling three {to hold up the plot}, though I don’t recommend that many.

-->As the City is diverse, I adore introducing new races and cultures. What I say it not the end-all and be-all of creativity. So go ahead. But I don’t want you to be a 700-year old elf or whatever. And for my remaining sanity, please, no angelic or demonic characters. It seriously annoys me.

-->I uphold the right to boot you out if any problems arise or if I feel that your profile isn't up to par. And if I don't accept you, don't you dare post {after I will specifically ask you not to} and ask "y wasnt i excepted??". Once again, be kind to the sanity of this poor, battered RPer.

-->Be involved. I will allow absences as long as you give a notice- we don't want to think you've died, now do we? Upon your return, you will be given a summary and allowed to hop back in. Don't just leave for two weeks in Fiji and expect to come back with no problems.

-->Being involved does NOT mean rapid-fire posting. No one likes to come back after ten minutes and see twenty pages that weren't there before. Please don't do that. You'll make me cry.

-->Have fun! I love fun. I love whoever invented it too.


+Time to tell me about yourself….

Name:

Age:

Gender: {because sometimes, I do actually need this option}

Race/Ethnicity:

Occupation:

Level you live on: {1-25}

Personality: {how do they act? Quirks, habits, nature? I’d love to know. Make this longer than two sentences, please.}

History: {you’re okay to have fun with this}

Weapon/s: {make this logical. That's all I ask.}

Power/s & Abilities: {please don't be too powerful. Have some weaknesses.}

Appearance: {either a description or a non real-life picture and description. Because sometimes I wonder; Does that girl really want her character to have purple hair ... ? But link your pictures, please}

Theme song/s: {it’s fun. =D}

Other: {the place for anything else that needs saying!}[/FONT]

 

[Endless Warrior Sora]

I'll join but I need time to continue reading but it sounds really cool.

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Name: Farivenn “Venn” Windwright

Age: Twenty

Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity: Human

Occupation: Courier.
Venn is a bird-keeper who has his raptors deliver important messages, mostly between the dignitaries of Ledonaath and the city’s proper. He is known as the best falconer in the Golden City and learned in most areas of animal husbandry, sometimes even helping to train Guard dogs. However, birds will always be his specialty.

Level you live on: Twenty-one

Power/s & Abilities: Venn is no mage, and has never been able to do so much as a card trick. His lone gift is an obvious one: he can understand any language without being taught. This helps with directing messages, of course, but what most people don’t seem to understand is when he means any language, that includes the communication between animals. Is it any wonder why he’s so good with them?

Personality: Never noticeably outgoing, Venn’s lifestyle has made him slightly reclusive by nature. He can go for days without speaking to another human, relying solely on the companionship of his birds and any other creature he’ll come in contact with. When among the rest of society, he is shy, but never in an awkward or fearful way: he simply isn’t used to being around people. His odd sense of the comedic tends to surprise others, for he’s slow to smile and rarely seen to laugh. No one ever seems to be able to tell when he’s joking and when he’s not, for he keeps a straight face and delivers his comments in a dry or casual tone. He has a self-mocking streak to his musings, but thinks in a clear and direct way.

Above all else, Venn is remarkably gentle, if firm in his work. He can soothe any agitated animal, whether bird or beast, and there’s never been a creature yet who doesn’t trust him on sight. Even when angry, his voice is never raised above its usual soft volume- it takes a lot to get him angry, anyway.

History: Venn’s family and childhood is a slightly convoluted ordeal. He doesn’t know who his biological father is; even his mother, Merelle, was never able to tell him his name, let alone whether he lived or died. This might had been the precedent for the life of an outcast later on, had his mother not gotten lucky and met a young widower when Venn was seven. The marriage of Merelle Joperi and Zanrin Windwright was a loving one, and everyone should have been content.

Venn was fond of Zanrin and happy to have a father in his life: Zanrin, in turn, treated the boy as his own. But Zanrin’s ten year-old son from his first marriage, Averus, didn’t take to Venn very well. As the Windwright family is a long line of elves, Averus saw himself superior to his human stepbrother and often tried to prove it.

Venn and Averus never became close. But their quiet antagonism never evolved into open hostility, for Zanrin, realizing Venn’s talents, sent his stepson to be apprenticed at a ranch for animal husbandry just outside the city when he was ten. Venn excelled there, and had never been happier. He and his parents exchanged frequent letters and the occasional visit. Averus, attending a school in the city, wrote to his half-brother only once: when Venn was almost, and Averus told him that Merelle and Zanrin had died.

Venn, who had been in the process of finishing his journeyman year, immediately left the ranch and returned to the city. His parents had taken ill, one soon after the other, and died without their sons‘ knowing they were even sick. They had not wanted to interrupt their boys’ studying….

The funeral was a bitter one. Each boy blamed the other, and after a long quarrel, Averus left with a bloody lip and Venn with a black eye. They have since been estranged.

When Venn had finished his period of mourning, he found a job in breeding raptors. Though he had not completely finished his last journeyman year, his gift ensured him success. At eighteen he was asked to be a courier for the Royal Council. He has lived in a tower on the twenty-first floor ever since, with a rookery full of birds of prey and a very prickly cat.

Weapons: None.

Appearance: Venn is tall, though bad posture tends to make him seem shorter. His skin is an olive brown, his eyes an almost hawk-like amber. He has light brown hair, coarse and twisted and reaching nearly to his shoulders, usually hanging in his eyes. He has a thin, sharp mouth, a triangular nose, and arching, straight-lined brows. Despite his manner, nothing about him is soft.

Theme song: Headlock by Imogen Heap

Other: Venn has a rather possessive “pet“, a type of cat called an elfkit, who goes by the name Micisa. Originating from distant forests, their intelligence is near that (or equal to) a human’s, and they have been known to communicate with other species. Venn is able to talk to Micisa thanks to his gift, and she seems to prize his company far above any other. Micisa gets easily jealous and only tolerates the various hawks, eagles, and owls to share Venn, who despite this exasperating relationship, is very fond of her.


Name: Rhyme. She doesn’t remember her real name, so she chose this one several years ago.

Age: Unsure. She’s either fifteen or sixteen.

Gender: Female

Race/Ethnicity: Human

Occupation: Street-singer

Level you live on: Homeless. She sticks around the thirteenth and fourteenth levels.

Personality: Rhyme is blunt and rough in her speech. She is a typical street-rat, quick, stealthy, and curious. She is easy-going, taking everything in its stride, and always viewing the world with a humorous {and cynical} commentary. She is not very empathetic and cannot read emotions very well; nor does she like to. Feelings are messy and tangled things to begin with, why would she want to bother with other people’s? Sensitivity is not at all her strong point, and she‘s not one to toe a boundary. Yet Rhyme has learnt, through experience and observation, to follow the rules of society and culture.

Other than that, she could care less about your feelings and how you think she should respect them. For her, respect is a thing long and hard earned, and no one gets the benefit of the doubt. What annoys her most is unnecessary worrying or grimness, from either her or someone else. Despite her troubles, she sees life as beautiful, and believes that everyone should enjoy it. If not, they’re just wasting time and space.

History: Rhyme, like most children growing up in the slums, did not have much of a happy childhood. She spent the first nine years of her life being shuttled around, trying to find a place she could be welcomed. As the story goes, her parents tried to sell her to a passing caravan of slave traders when she was four years hold, hoping to make some money. Apparently it worked, but as fate would have it, the traders accidentally left her behind. She was saved from the horrors of slavery by pure chance.

So in Ledonaath she stayed, on the lower parts of Level Eight. It wasn’t until she was twelve that she finally left, moving a few levels up in hopes to make her future- or at least get by –there. She had by then discovered her talent for singing, and started street performing. Not much else to say. She usually spends her nights in the Level Fourteen forest-park, sleeping in a tree amongst the birds, whose songs she likes to hear and mimic.

Rhyme never steals, despite her need. This is not so much a moral thing as it is a control issue: she wants to be able to make it by her own abilities, not by thieving, and looks down on it as lazy and feckless.

Weapons: Rhyme carries a few small, cheap knives about her person. Living unprotected on the streets, she knows three important things: how to duck, how to strike, and how to run.

Power/s & Abilities: Rhyme can hear voices on the wind. Being a singer herself, she has a soft spot for it, and the wind spirits seem to like her. The breezes will bring her bits of conversation or other noises carried from around the city. Not very useful, but she likes it, and once and awhile, she will pick up interesting news.

Rhyme is also a very talented singer. When she sings, her slang and hardened speech drop away. She has an incredible range, and can mimic a variety of voices and sounds. Music is her life, and not just because it puts food on the table she doesn’t have.

Appearance: Rhyme is about 5’’4’ ½. She tends to look taller though, because she’s so long and gangly. This is partly because of her genes, though mostly because she hasn’t seen three square meals a day in years. She has a wide, well-shaped mouth, a long nose, and slightly slanted sea-blue eyes. Faint freckles adorn her tanned skin. Her hair is a bright yellow, and it doesn’t get tangled. This is because, a few years ago, Rhyme got annoyed enough, took out a rusty knife, and chopped it off- rather unskillfully, as parts of it are uneven. Now it just goes to her ears, softly framing her head like a messy dandelion clock. It may make her look even more patched at times, but she likes it because now her hair doesn’t give her any trouble.

Theme song: For A Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic by Paramore.

Other: Rhyme makes up her own songs.


Name: Arrow Alythrea Autumn

Age: Nineteen

Gender: Female

Race/Ethnicity: Raisidhe {rye-shee}
This is a race of people completely in touch with magic, their culture full of meaning and ceremony. Also a very strange one, at least in the eyes of other races. Primarily this is because Raisidhe do not have parents: they are born from eggs, growing to the equal of a four-year-old in the ten months of incubation until they “hatch”. Some superstitions call them the descendants of dragons, or rocs, though they look almost completely human, their only obvious distinction being their very tall ears. There are perhaps fifty in Ledonaath at the moment, all living together: because a Raisidhe does not have parents, they are raised by everyone in their clan, and their siblings are the other children of the same generation. Their life is a very communal one, though they are not reclusive in their society.

Occupation: Nightwatch Mage.
The normal Guards deal with the human criminals during the day … and the regiment of mage Guards deal with the City’s shadows from dusk to dawn. Their work is the most dangerous. They are often referred to as “Nightbirds” for their nocturnal job and the all-black uniform they wear [blood stains don’t show up as easily on black]. Theirs is a hard life: the City loses up to five Night birds a year to the things that go bump in the night. Even if a Nightwatch mage survives, they run the risk of serious injury, mental and physical.

Level you live on: Seventeen and Three. The Raisidhe reside on Seventeen, while Arrow works and lives at the Guard’s Citadel on the Third level.

Personality: Arrow is a fighter at heart, inside and out. While not cold or cruel, she is fierce, unyielding, and naturally stoic. Don’t misjudge her though: she does feel emotions, just as strongly as anyone else does. But while another person may laugh, or weep when they are sad, she does not. For her, laughter and tears are reactions she does voluntarily- even her expressions are controlled, for the most part. She can’t help it, but she experiences everything inside of her. One thing she does project, however, is an air of dignity and compassion.

Besides being emotionless, Arrow is often accused of being too tough, of not finding enough joy in life. Another mistake. She enjoys fun as much as the next person does. It just doesn’t seem like she does, especially when her wit rides on the sarcastic. But she likes to make people laugh, and enjoys knowing that others are happy. But when she gets angry, it is far from a laughing matter. It is the emotion she shows most easily, but hers is not a fiery temper, flaring from any spark: it is hard ice that nevertheless burns like cold iron.

Arrow is almost virtually unafraid, keeping a clear head in even the messiest of fights. What she does fear, however, is insanity. Being a Raisidhe, she has a greater chance of going mad than other Nightwatch Guards. As a being of magic, all the other magic she comes in close enough contact with seeps into her over time. And unfortunately, most of that magic is dangerous and evil. She fears the darkness that may grow inside of her, and tries her best to keep it at bay.

History: The Raisidhe of Ledonaath own a spacious building on the Seventeenth level, where they have lived since their first arrival to the City a hundred years before. The inside of their home is mostly hollow, with an indoor garden of sorts taking up most of the space. This was where Arrow grew up. She was born during the harvest season; part of the Autumn clan.

At ten she began her formal training in magic. Up until then, her name had been Alythrea. But at the age of thirteen, all Raisidhe have a Naming ceremony, where they are considered nearing adulthood and may choose their own, their first name becoming a middle one.

Arrow was her choice. From something elegant to something deadly.

At sixteen {for all important Raisidhe ages come in threes}, Arrow went to become a trainee Guard, and left the Haven. This was not unusual, and a few of her brothers and sisters followed. In two years she became a full-fledged Nightbird.

Weapons: Arrow specializes {surprise surprise} in archery, and a recurve bow is her personal favorite. Her main weapon is a standard Guard’s staff, though hers is modified for a Nightbird: on either end is a sharp blade nearly two feet in length, the handle part in the middle being shorter than a Daywatch’s staff. These blades are retractable.

Powers & Abilities: Raisidhe are spell weavers, and Arrow is no exception. She is highly aware of all types of magic, and can even pick up its “sound” {what else did you think those ears were for?}. Though for a Raisidhe, spells take a good deal of concentration, and she had to practice for years to be able to work them under pressure.

Appearance: Arrow is not as tall as most Raisidhe, but still reaches near 5’6”. As a child of Autumn, her coloring is of what the Rai’ call myrivae, ice and fire. Her hair is a rich auburn, feathering now just to her ears, as shorter hair is easier to fight with. She has several longer slim braids, not vanity, but a precaution: she weaves charms of protection into them. Her skin is fair, never affected by Ledonaath’s sun, and in contrast to the “fire” of her hair is the “ice” of her eyes, a clear grey mixed with wintry blue. Every night, she wears the all-black uniform of a Nightbird: long pants, a fitted sleeveless tunic, gloves, and boots.

Theme song: It’s The Fear by Within Temptation

 

[Swag]

Last time I joined this I stopped posting because of a misunderstanding of something you said on MSN. Hopefully, that won't happen this time. =P

 

[TheClamWhisperer]

Name: Amyranthia (Ranthia, Ranth) Rowanwand

Age: 14

Gender: Female

Occupation: Entertainer

Level you live on: 7

Personality: Amyranth is the very epitome of childish. You know the type, the little sisters or brothers who put up a sweet front but are really akin to a cavity: rotten. Like any sane child, once she reaches boredom, she's had enough. She craves attention, swears like a construction worker, and runs on pure unleaded energy. Being compassionate beneath the tantrums, she doesn't have any quagmires when it comes to helping people, but she prefers working with animals rather than people. Animals don't mock you.

Amyranth suffers from the curse of womanhood once a moonphase, a very dangerous time for any bystanders. Being young and strident, she openly declares her rather disgusting ailments. When it comes to her mistakes, she prefers to hide and sulk rather than face it like the hothead she is.

History: The 'Witch' came to the Golden City when she was a mere four years old. Her family had been a part of a traveling caravan of entertainers. Pale Gypsies, as the public called them. Being so young, she vaguely remembers the place she once called home or her biological family. From the flickers of memory and Ari's gentle explanations, she faintly remembers that she was dragged out of a burning tent. Maruaders had attacked their nomadic settlement, setting fire to the caravan and taking the lives of almost every adult amongst the gypsies.

Silopher, among the remaining adults gathered the children and fled the scene. He spoke of a city, the color of gold, and told each of the children that they would find the life suited for them there. During the long, seemingly hopeless trek to the Golden City, Amyranth was always crying when she was separated from Ari. The other children, needing a scapegoat, called her Crybaby Ranth, and made fun of her whenever Ari happened to be looking the other way.

During one particular bully encounter, one of the boys pushed her into the mud and took her horse-hair bracelet, a very important item to her. Whilst dangling the trinket over her head, just out of reach, they discovered that Amyranth was most certainly not a normal girl. In retaliation, she shoved the antagonist, but did not expect to see a black orchid mass of energy to spring from her hands. The sheer force knocked the boy back a few yards, his delicate skin rubbed raw from skidding against the earth. Black marks had been branded to his shoulders, smoldering like a hellfire, but were very much shaped like a small hand.

From then on, she was known as the Witch. Once they arrived in the city, a Guard promptly directed Silopher to the orphanage, but when people attempted to separate Amyranth from Ari, she threw a fit and destroyed much of the infirmary. After the incident, the two set up residence on the seventh level, Ari working as a warrior, Amyranth becoming the apprentince to an esteemed mage named Phelana Dovist.

For the next ten years, Amyranth studied under Phelana, honing her curious magick into lethal, but controllable weapons. Currently, she still lives on the seventh level with Ari, and works as an entertainer for the infirmary, but primarily spends her time on the street. The source of her power is a mystery to her, Ari proposes that it is genetic, but Phelana honestly has no explanation. The adults frown at her for living with Ari, due to the fact that he is five years older than her and very much a man while she is still a young girl. Nevertheless, he and Bane are the only ones she will allow to call her Amyranthia.

Weapon/s: Her primary weapon is a dream-catcher at her belt which Phelana gave to her. The dream catcher can absorb the negative energy directed at her and monetarily give her power over it, but is also a gateway to the netherworld from which Amyranth summons spirits.

Power/s & Abilities: Amyranth's element is 'dark' magick, a very mysterious and destructive gift. From hiding, flying, fighting, creating illusions, but the one rather grotesque tactic is when she releases the darkness into an opponents body, which she can influence to blockade the blood stream or freeze the lungs. The darkness is malleable, thus she can make it dense, light, hot or cold. She hardly uses it for fighting, mostly for fun and entertaining the sick children. Her dark powers gained her the title of Witch, because if the darkness ever strikes you, it leaves a black mark that will never fade. The reason customers come to her, however, is because Amyranth can commune with the dearly departed, using darkness to delve into their world and converse and summon them for protection. Her gift has been described as 'A Touch of Death', perhaps a connection from the world she so easily penetrates.

Appearance: Amyranth has large scarlet eyes that intrigue others with their size and hue, feathery raven hair which flows to her mid back. She typically wears an artistic black bodice-like shirt with a self-designed artistic eblem and comfortable pants. Her complexion at best is pale, you can thank heritage for that. Just begining to blossom into a woman, her face still contains traces of baby fat and has not fully fleshed out. She carries herself like a butterfly: nimble and graceful, but easily crushed.
Theme song/s: Sharada- Skye Sweetnam

Other: Ranth's companion is a lynx by the name of Bane. The question comes about if Bane possesses a physical body or is merely the embodiment of Amyranthia's spirit guide. None but Amyranthia can see or touch him unless he wills it. The lynx is an elusive ghost-like animal that sees without being seen and has been revered about the Pale Gypsies for many years. From texts, they are called 'the keeper of secrets'.

It's appearance stems from the mystery that a creature's secrecy can often be it's strength. Bane has taught Amyranth that even the smallest can succeed in life and that the world can unfold itself to those who stop and bother to listen. The lynx is often associated with divination or clairvoyance. Bane is both Amyranthia's friend and guide, but has a quiet resentment towards most other humans, calling them blind and misguided.

 

[Swag]

Name: Roran.

Age: Seventeen.

Gender: Male.

Race/Ethnicity: Human.

Occupation: Expert Pick-Pocket; He does a little street performing on the side with his guitar.

Level you live on: Roran is a free spirit, and doesn't like having just one home. What level he's on depends on what he's doing. If he's pick-pocketing he can be found on levels 20 and up, if he's just playing his guitar for some cash he could be anywhere from 12 to 16. You can never find him when you want him, and when you don't want him he's right in your face. He's always just, around.

Personality: Roran is an easy soul, taking life one day at a time. He likes to have fun and laugh, and doesn't stress very many things. He knows what he needs however, which is why he is a pick-pocket. He admits he doesn't like doing it, but it's necessary. He is usually happiest while playing his guitar however, letting his mind meander and letting the music take him wherever it may. He can sing a little bit, but he's not anything special in that area. He is very dreamy, often looking into space and thinking deep thoughts about the world around him.

When dealing with other people he comes off as a cool, street smart, yet funny guy. He knows how to charm the ladies, and can be sensitive if need be. He cares about those he cares about, which is not very many people as of late.


History: Roran was born into a moderately poor family in the midsections of Ledonaath. He never got to know his mother, as she died in child birth, so his father and he became close. His father taught him how to pick-pocket, a thing he did rather well, until he was able to do it better than him. He also taught him how to fight, as when his father was young he was taught by his father; and his father was taught by his father before him.

Roran always showed a strong desire for music, and especially loved the guitar. So, when he was 13, his father went out and "bought" him a brand new guitar. Roran picked up on it like a fish to water, and it was in that moment that he learned of his magical power to control sound. Now, not only did he practice music, pick-pocketing, and fighting; but controling his power as well. His plate was full, in a good way, and his father was with him every step of the way.

One day however, the unthinkable happened; his father got caught in the act of theivery. When tried he was found guilty of many other thefts as well and was sentenced to 20 years in prison. With the loss of his father, Roran was lost for awhile. He didn't know what to do or where to turn to, and seemed to be depressed all the time. After a while however, he realized that moping wasn't going to make his dad come back any faster; besides the fact that his dad would hate to see him like that anyway.

Now he just roams the streets, taking each day at a time. He comes and goes as he pleases, and he's come to love it that way.

Weapons: Roran is quite possibly one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the Golden City, learning the trade from his father. He can use anything around him for weapon, but he usually just uses his greatest weapon of all; his body.

Power/s & Abilities: Roran can, to a certain extent, control sound. He can make it very low, or ear screechingly high. He can change a persons voice at whim, including his own, and make it sound as if a voice was coming from somewhere it wasn't. When he plays his guitar, he can use his ability to tune into the specific melody that makes a certain animal entranced; allowing him to control it to an extent. Also, he can single out one specifc sound out of a group of different sounds, and can hear any sound from up to a mile away.

Appearance: Roran stands approximately 5'11 1/2". His skin tone is a kind of carmel brown, and his eyes are chocolate brown. He keeps his hair cut short, so that it just looks like the top of his head is black. He has sort of rugged sideburns and beard that comes out to three different points. He keeps his body toned, between working out and staying healthy to the occasional time he has to run from someone; be they guards or patrons in a bar.

He adorns a green camoflague(sp?) hat that fits perfectly on his head. He has a hunter green army jacket, and a black T-Shirt that comes to his mid thigh and another shorter white T-shirt under that. Around his neck is a chain with two dog-tags on it; one for him and one for his father. He wears green camoflague(again, sp?) pants with black boots. He usually has his guitar around his neck, and when he doesn't it's hung on his back.

Theme Song: "Killing Me Softly" - The Fugees {Great song if you haven't heard it, just ask and I'll get it for you}


Other: Roran despises bees and other stinging bugs.

Roran has a pet muse which he named Cait; it can usually be seen on either one of his shoulders, on top of his head, or even following lovingly behind Roran. The young boy has thoerized that his pet is indeed magical, considering that whenever it moves little green sparkles trickle behind it and dot it's path. What exactly the creature can do however completely escapes Roran. Cait.

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

I'd like to join, if that's okay with you?

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

D2L = of course accepted.

You don't need my permission to post your template. Whether or not you'll be accepted once I read your profile is the question.

 

[BlackmageAp]

Name: Eloc Motar

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity: Blootine {blu-tin}
A race that has its own reasons for being hated, other than not being human. These 'creatures' can change back and forth between their original and human forms. When in their natural forms and when born, they are what looks like a cross between a cheetah, a wolf, and a fox. The lower half belongs to the wolf, being sleek and strong. The tail and torso belongs to the cheetah, quick and quiet. Then the face belongs to the fox, wise and noble. However, many do not believe this description fits them well, due to the fact that they can go berserk and attack any breathing creature around them when certain conditions are met. They have their small colonies within the levels of Ledonaath, but will often stick to their human forms to avoid conflict or racial comments. They have been said to be able to communicate with some of the defensive magicks of older times.

Occupation: Storyteller

Level you live on: 8

Personality: Eloc is mostly a quiet person. He doesn't like to be a bother to anyone, but does like to help out in anyway that he can. He does however, know how to have a good laugh with friends when special times arrive, though many think he might be acting as not to create a bad mood. His favorite thing to do is to tell stories to children, and to watch their faces glow. He is also loyal to those whom he acknowledges, and does his best to show respect to them. On bad days though, he can be nasty. If he's really not in the mood to talk, and you've decided to try and make him, you'd best be faster than a wolf if you want to keep your limbs. The same applies when he fights.

History: Eloc grew up on level 7, and since he was a young child, he was taught never to reveal what he was to the world. Being a child, he never understood this, but he obeyed anyway. He would only be his true self when training with his father and uncle, who always knew how to make him laugh. He was always close to his uncle, and got a story told to him every time his uncle visited. It was one day, however, that his world was turned upside down for him.

Eloc went to go play with other children his age one day, when they decided to play a new kind of game. It was one that involved racing, which Eloc thought only his race did. During the middle of their race, when Eloc felt he might not be able to win against one of his friends, that friends began to tease him. He began to simply make fun of how slow he was, and that he ran like a girl. For a small 7 year old boy, that was quite the insult. Eloc simply remembered blacking out, but regaining consciousness to a horrible sight. The friend of his had a huge wound on his arm, one that seemed to go to the bone. When he asked where it came from, the boy simply whimpered and ran. It only tooks mere hours before he was chased home by several people of level 7 that now knew his true race.

His family had to quickly pack and make a run for another home where their race had settled. They were fortunate to have someone up on the higher level that had a spare home for them. Eloc realized though, that they never gathered their Uncle with them. Within the next few days, they received word that his Uncle and his family were murdered by a small group of Blootine haters, only two days after they were chased out. Eloc would only take the punishment that his father drew on him for the next several years, of intense training and almost complete disownment of being his son. His mother never changed, but it mattered little to Eloc. He got a small job near a playground, to tell stories to childern who just didn't seem to play with others.

Weapon/s: If he ever gets into a fight, he's normally in his Blootine form, so teeth and claws. However, he does carry a small dagger on him, encase he's been able to keep his cool by the time he's fighting.

Power/s & Abilities: Eloc has a little experience in defensive magicks, but only enough to block small punches with a small invisible barrier. It only last for 3 minutes every 6 hours, and he's been desperately trying to improve on it.

Appearance: He appears as a human most of the time. He appears as a 20 year old skinny white male with long messy brown hair that matches his brown cat like eyes. His clothes normally consist of a brown trench coat with a white undershirt and some khakis. His Blootine form still looks similar to his human form in terms of eyes. Either way, Both forms are around 6" in height. His legs having the long brown fur of a wolf, but the slenderness and red spots of the almighty cheetah. The upper half seems to bulk up as it progresses, but then leads the beholder to the skinny nose and ears, a deeper brown than the legs. His tail is bushy as soft to the touch.

Theme song/s: Go the Distance - Roger Bart

Other: He's a sucker for fish ^_^​

((A cookie to the person who can tell which other RP this guy appeared in, different name))

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Accepted.

There's a hamster on my head. ._.

 

[BlackmageAp]

Yay's, thanks ^_^ You should get the hamster to join. Maybe that's what he wants?

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

I put her there because she kept trying to climb into the printer. D:

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

Name: Lemend Briggs

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity:Seemingly Human.

Occupation: Writer and poet. He's also an expert reading and making and is also a rather good cook.

Level you live on: His main home is on the seventh level, though he is rarely ever there since he is called to his jobs often. He is self-employed and so has to travel to the different levels. He has flats on most of the levels and one other house on the first.

Personality: Lamend is a knowledge seeker and a traveler. He is never comfortable staying in one place to long. This is one thing that makes him have very little friends. He gets bored of people and places and discards them. He doesn't think himself above other people, nor is he cruel, but any king of monotony is just irritating to him. He stay in the same house only two days at a time, unless his jobs demand more time. His favorite hobby is to cook. His specialty is being able to guess your favorite food by your moods and chats he had with you. He enjoys cooking for people, and is often saddened when food goes to wait.

History: There's not much history to be told about this man. His life wasn't exciting. He lived with a rather wealthy mother and father. He has two brother and one sister who is good at singing. His old house was a three story stone building that he shared with another family known as the Gaffies. At the age of 13 he began to develop and interest in book and at the age of fifteen, his life actually had a crashing turn for the best.

At night on day, Lamend had the most interesting dream. He was looking at six shadowy figured and they were speaking in a made up language. In the dream, Lamend could hear a single word they said, but oddly enough when he woke up, he had a whole new vocabulary of words easily accessible from the back of his mind. When he muttered these words every window in his house burst with terrible force and noise. No body was hurt, since his parents were usually at work his siblings started school before he did, but it seemed that talking in this language was dangerous.

As he grew up he went on to be a Map-maker, a write of stories and poems and a story teller. He gains a decent amount of money and he doesn't spend much of it since he rarely fixes up the houses that he never visits. Through his jobs he'd learn many more tricks an abilities, some as rewards for his services and some by watching who he works for.

Weapon/s: The only thing he has is a book or three. They contain all the tings he needs.

Power/s & Abilities:

((Taboo)): The language of the "gods" spoken incorrectly by a mortal. When spoken, something bad will happen to either the people in area of the speaker, the people near the speaker, or the space around the speaker. So say it's angering the universe in a small say. This cannot be stopped by silence spells since speaking it in your head has similar effects.

((Darkae)) Words of elemental magic. This let's him use the magic of the elements while speaking this language. Can be blocked by silence.

((The Tongue)) This let's him speak a language that anyone listening can understand. Even those who'd never heard it before.

Appearance: He's 5.11 and weighs about 169 lbs. He has rather fair skin, but not pale and his eyes are a blueish-gray. He has a longish face with a good natured smile. His teeth are not to white and not to yellowed, his hair is shot and brown and he wears a pair of horned-rimmed glasses. He often wears a indiana jones type outfit, though he often has variations, and usually wears it in blacks and whites. A custom suit jacket and a pair of black pants. A large traveling bag is usually slung over his back carrying all his supplies. ((If you watch D.Gray-Man, he looks somewhat like General Tiedoll))

Theme song/s: Did You Get My Message by Jason Mraz

Other: He loves kitties.....

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

I'm sorry mikep, but your template is not up to par. Good luck in your other endeavors and maybe try again next time?

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

May I ask what was wrong so I may take it into account then?

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Overall, too many grammar mistakes, and your template is a little hard to read.

It seemed like you put thought into it though, thanks for that.

 

[)-(The Anomaly)-(]

Alrighty, I'll work on those. I'll still read it though ^.^

 

[Thelonepickle]

Name: Roger Yesaile.

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity: Human.

Occupation: Nightbird. The youth always felt that his unorthodox magical talents were given to him for a reason by the Almighty, and that he should put them to good use. He decided that the best course of action was to become a Nightbird, a risk-taking unsung hero of the people. Faced with biases against the more traditional magical races, he had to work his way up from the bottom and is still somewhat a child in the eyes of his coworkers.

Level you live on: Three - Roger was recently evicted from his small apartment on East Fourth Level and has since been living at headquarters on the third floor. Being found out could get him suspended, so he's overly-stealthy about covering his tracks.

Personality: Incredibly optimistic Roger never loses his faith in the races that inhabit the Golden City. Despite his dark career choice, Roger still devotes himself to helping people, serving the public, but not drawing attention to himself as he does so. Keeping the ideals he was raised by in mind in all that he does, Roger has an extremely respectful attitude to anyone and everyone he meets. His seemingly good nature can get him into trouble; he is often considered a brown-noser, a poser, a busy-body, and other things of that nature. He tends to land himself in awkward situations, but he manages to get out of them as he works fantastically under pressure, much to his surprise. Blows are glancing for Roger, who believes above all in being devout, chivalrous, accepting and open-minded, and good.

History: Roger was the only child of his parents, a rancher's daughter and a farmer's son, neither with any magical abilities or knowledge, though they did believe that they were blessed with some kind of extraordinary luck; for the past twenty years, their crops and livestock have enjoyed great harvest seasons and long, healthy lives.

Never in their wildest dreams could they believe that the source of their luck was their son. It wasn't that they didn't love him; they just didn't think to name him as the reason for their prosperity. Roger was expected to become a farmer, as was tradition in his family, when suddenly his magic reared its head. Roger's ability to tap into the minds of those around him and feel their raw emotions was the biggest chunk of his power. Through this, Roger's other abilities came into play, and his thrilled parents (and ecstatic extended family) saw him off to hone his magical abilities in a city on the fourth level. He prospered for a while, learning magic on the streets, but he never actually received formal training, and has been saving the money his family gave him since he first arrived in the city. He will tell no one what he's planning to do with the money, and every cent he earns goes directly to the cause. As proof of his naivety, he kept the stash under his matress, when he had one, and now keeps it under a mat beneath his desk.

Weapon/s: Apart from the default weapon supplied by the Force - the Mage's Staff - Roger carries nothing but a string of marble pieces emblazoned with carvings of religious symbols. He isn't sure, but he believes that they help to amplify his powers in some way.

Power/s & Abilities:

Mind Tap: Roger has the ability to reach into the mind of living things and see what makes them up - their emotions. He can alter these moods slightly, sending opponents into panic attacks, or he can trigger pain points in the body, temporarily stunning his enemies until they submit. Roger's type of magic is completely respectful of the sentient mind - he can only see emotions, not thoughts, weaknesses, fears, etc.

Manipulation: Roger can see the life in anything around him, and with inanimate objects, it means he can see what holds them together and manipulate those forces into carrying out his commands. For now, he can only do simple things, like create a sturdy wooden sword out of a tree, or sharpen a blade by willing it, but this power is unexplored and dangerous; the more he alters the substance, the more energy he loses.

Understanding: Roger's place in battles isn't in combat, where he CAN hold his own, if need be, but in strategy. When placed in front of an opponent, he sees their very being like a book, he understands it like their qualities and properties are being listed for him. This lets him know the weaknesses and strengths of any nonhuman entity, so he can direct others in key points to attack.

Appearance: Roger is a tan, muscled youth, but his figure isn't incredibly impressive at first glance. While his arms and legs are strong and well-formed, he's not an incredibly impressive height, and he doesn't have a very intimidating way of carrying himself. Roger has pale green eyes and hair in dark brown shades. When not in uniform, Roger wears farmer's clothing, which keeps him from being homesick. Roger's most striking feature is his smile, followed closely by his laugh. If Roger is good-looking, he isn't aware of it.

Theme song/s: Cheer Up! - Reel Big Fish.

Other: Roger is a recovering alcoholic, but he often falls back to his old ways. His powers are amplified when he's intoxicated, but he has almost no control over them, which is why he generally prefers to drink alone - otherwise, he could do something really stupid, like... kill himself.

Mime's template tomorrow, pl0x?

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Mime's template? All you have to do is copy and paste! XD Lazy.

/hypocrite.

 

[Endless Warrior Sora]

Before I post my template, should I give you a picture for my character or a description. You said links only then said a picture with description so I'm confused.