Faces of the Many - Ikosibella's Darlings 2.0

[IkoSibella]

'. . .You ask my name and i shall reply "Legion" for many demons have gone into me. . .'

 

[IkoSibella]

▬• Ash'Rah Drax •▬

. . .Flight Risk - Renegade Runaway. . .

. . .Been called a monster, called a demon, called a freak
I'm not an idol, not an angel, not a saint
I walk alone, I always have, I'm not ashamed
A living nightmare from the cradle to the grave. . .

. . .The blood that runs within my veins
Keeps me from ever ending up the same
The fire that's pushing me on and on and on
To me it's everything and it makes me ******** strong
I spoke to the Devil. . .he swears he's not to blame. . .

Name: Ash'Rah {Ash rare} Mason Drax

Position Of Power: The High Escehllions Son / Heir to the Empire

Age: 26 {This is not known for sure}

Race: Blood Wraith Reaver {One of only four}

Sexual Orientation: {Undetermined}

Appearance: Tall and thin yet muscled he looks almost exactly like his father. Strong and defined he has soft grey eyes that range between light gray and hard silver when he is angry {Black / Red when he is in full Blood Wraith form}

With dark black, almost ebony hair and thin brows and pale skin, he has an attractive angular face that more often than not wears an expression of sarcastic boredom making him seem entirely disinterested in nearly everything and every one. Favoring breathable clothes and thick soled boots he can be found most times in over sized shirts and baggy clothes, however as with most Reavers he tends to be shirtless most of the time.

Weapons of Choice: Himself. He never learned fully to use a weapon of any form but he is an incredible hand to hand combat fighter.

Personality: Cold, hard, difficult to get along with he wears his sarcasm like armor and hides behind it quite well. Pushing any one away that gets close he prefers to be alone or among people he already knows, getting to that point with him however is a challenge in itself that he does not make easy in any way.

Slow to trust he is unshakably loyal when he does. Quick to make decisions he is always ready to move on no matter where he is a hard habit for him that sometimes leaves those around him frustrated as he never settles long enough to make any ties nor does he very often welcome tag along's preferring as always to be alone.

Likes: Being outside, traveling, winter and being alone.

Dislikes: Summer {Its to hot}, being confined in a building or one area for to long, having to many people around him.

History: He has been on the run from his father as long as he can remember. Born into the life of mock royalty he was raised to take his fathers place from day one, never experiencing life outside the walls of his fortress like home until one day he ran. . .and never stopped, learning things about his father and the Empire he was born to rule along the way that has done nothing but solidify his choice to never rule.

He has lived rough for most of his life preferring the wide open spaces and close nit tress of the forests and the protective banks of lakes and rivers he calls no where home and he knows he never will but he does not care, his father has been trying in vain to find him and bring him home and for ten years he has avoided him successfully. . .so far. . .

. . .If you wanna start a fight
You better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Well my preacher believes I don't need all of these demons hangin' on
But we both know if they don't, I'll get lonely, need a few to tag along. . .

. . .I want out, but I could never surrender.
Try and break me down, but I won’t let you win.
You can call me out, but I know you’re a pretender.
You may think you're god, but I know that I am sin,
I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

Priest Mathias Gray
. . .The Wolf at Dawn. . .

. . .The humiliation of being trapped ↢signals↢ our counterattack; you’re a ⟪hunter⟫ who slaughters the prey beyond the castle walls
While you’re consumed by a raging ⟪bloodlust⟫ (urge), what gouges the scarlet at dusk is―
↢the crimson bow and arrow↢. . .

. . .Sheltered, you better keep the wolf back from the door
He wanders ever closer every night
And how he waits, baying for blood. . .

Name: Priest Mathias Gray

Position Of Power: High Commander of The Dark Knight's

Age: Uknown

Race: Draconic Reaver

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Tall, muscular and built for war Priest is a warrior through and through. He has dark tan skin that has a slight gray tinge to it with sharp ice white eyes. Deep white hair he keeps swept back falls into a short ponytail that sits between his shoulder blades. He is always in some form of armor, be it his gauntlets and armored legs or the legs and his thick collar of purple leather he is always dressed to fight.

Weapons of Choice: Battle axe and Long Sword.

Personality: He is a warrior in every sense. Collected and quick to make sometimes life altering choices he has led his men for several years with out major incident, much of this owed to his seemingly unshakable aptitude for battle.

This does not always translate very well into his social or personal life. Sometimes considered abrasive and some what sarcastic he has an aura of disinterest in most things but in reality he is almost insatiably curious about nearly every thing. Hungry for knowledge he devoted his early years to learning everything and everything he can, carrying that thirst for knowledge with him into later life he has become a very intelligent and wise man.

Likes: The colors purple and gray, these being his signature colors. His war horse Maizoon and his Battle Axe. Books, summer nights and traveling.

Dislikes: Darkness, being interrupted while reading. Winter mornings and cold coffee.

History: Priest is the last of his kind. Born in the Wilds his mother was the last surviving female Draconic Reaver of her time and died during child birth. His father was an El'Vem chieftain of one of the largest wandering clans. It was this that drove him from the wilds.

The clan he was born into hated him. Hated what he was, what he had been born as and they feared him even as a child so his father took him to the capital and handed him over to the Dark Knights, the only Order his father knew of that could raise him and train him to use his natural gifts, Priest never saw his father again and to this day does not know if he still lives.

Raised by the Dark Knights he rose quickly though their ranks with every passing year making the rank of Commander with in ten years of being adopted by them. Named the High Commanders successor he hoped, almost prayed the day would never come that he would take that title but alas the man that had become his father in the Dark Knights died a few short years later during a battle to expand the Empires Borders. Eleven years on Priest has led the Order into glory and rose them from dark days of being feared and hated, making them on of the most respected and loved Orders the Empire has.

. . .There's so much left in the air
So much to tell from a stare
There's so much left to defend
We'll make it 'til the dawn, It'll be here before long
Holding on
If we can find the light
We can make our way back home. . .

. . .So run with the eyes of the devil
And keep them in your dreams
If you succumb to the lies of the tyrant
You'll cleanse yourself of me. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

Ad'iea Loella Vern

. . .I would give you everything
Can you feel this energy. . .take it
You can have the best me
And I would give you anything
Can you feel this energy. . . take it
You can have the best of me. . .

. . .I keep a close watch on this heart of mine,
I keep my eyes wide open all the time. . .

Name: Astera Ad'iea *Pronounced Ah-dee-yah* Loella Vern {{Given name Ad'iea - Nicknames: Addy, Lo }}

Position Of Power: Advanced Technology and Combat Mechanic and Specialist for the High Eschellion

Age: 26

Race: Human

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Addy is the definition of rough around the edges. Bright two tone hair that is pink and purple in color she has it half shaved on one side the star shaped scar of her implant easily visible through the dark pink fuzz. Covered in scars it is easy to see just from looking at her she has had a hard life so far. Sharp red eyes give her soft face a hard edge, as does the scar that runs through her left eye. Scars cover her sides and arms and not all of them were put there by the men that created her heavy cybernetic arm.

Her left arm from shoulder to wrist is entirely comprised of reinforced metals and electronics, segmented joints and hard wired into the rest of her body. Her right leg from mid thigh to just below her knee is also covered in sheet metal, this however is not a full cybernetic limb and simply and implant to replace the muscle and tissue she lost during a fight. The rest of her, the human parts left at least, are thin and tan. Her muscle carries light definition but that hides the powerhouse she is underneath. Well versed in fighting both hand to hand and with weapons she has the body of a brawler.

Weapons of Choice: What ever the High Eschellion allows her to fight with.

Personality: Hard faced, hard hearted. . .she is very slow to trust and very quick to punch whoever offends her in the face {{normally with her metal arm so it hurts more}}. Not to be messed with she has a short fuse and an explosive temper most of this owed to her impromptu capture and imprisonment.

She does not like, in any small measure, having people she does not know around her and as such has a small handling team of people she has got to know. This team has been changed a few times due to her hurting a few of her previous handlers. A loose cannon at the best of times she prefers to be allowed to do her work alone as such most of the time the High Eschellion allows this, unless of course she is out in the field.

Once you get to know her however Addy is very chatty. She has a dry sense of humor and a sharp wit. Very sarcastic she is hard to take seriously sometimes but she is for the most part she shows flashes of kindness and empathy, though this is very rare.

Likes: Her workshop, being left alone, apples and metal.

Dislikes: New people, being annoyed or harassed, bananas and elves.

History: Ad'iea grew up in a western territory known for its military sciences and combat machines. Her father and mother were both parts of the territories military and as such Ad'iea grew up to be a soldier, following in her mothers footsteps however she became a mechanic, something she immensely enjoyed and excelled at, an accident she suffered during her time as a mechanic led to her having her cybernetic arm and other implants installed, her entire life changed and she was left with the inability to live with out periodic replacement of her implants {{once every three to four years done the trick}}

That all changed when her country went to war with the Empire. It was a long and bloody war that lasted most of her teenage life, her parents were both killed during an invasion of her installation that she was working and she was captured however not with out a fight. Killing a small battalion of men using both herself and her projects she was soon captured but spared, the High Eschellion deciding to take her a prisoner of war and bring her back to the Empire to live in his home and work for him under very strict conditions.

. . .I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line. . .

. . .Take it slow but it's not typical
He already knows that my love is fire
My heart was a stone, but then his hands roam
I turned him to gold and he took me higher. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

▬✦ Zy'Loc ✘ Gar'Ryous ✦▬

. . .It can and will all be broken. . .

. . .Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping. . .

. . .There's no defense for your recklessness
You stare as the proof lies before you
Why can't you see, are you afraid to be
Exposed to the demons around you?. . .

Name: Zy'Loc Melthrra Gar'ryous {Pronounced Sigh-Lock Mel-The-Era Gah-Rye-Iss}

Position Of Power: Leader of the Eastern Clan Of Nomads

Age: {Unknown}

Race: El'Ven

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Tall, muscular and platinum blonde, from a young age his clan believed he was in part human. That was until he grew older and his El'Ven features become heavily pronounced. High cheek bones, long dagger pointed ears, an angular sweeping jaw, tanned skin and lithe he looked every bit the part of the Chieftains son, if was not for the fact he was blind.
Born with out sight he has worn masks and cloth to cover his milky white eyes since he was a small child. Large hoods and masks of thin metal mask that cover just his eyes becoming his norm the older he became.

Weapons of Choice: He does not fight unless he has no other choice. However when he has to he will use anything from metal rods to rope, it depends on what he can get his hands on.

Personality: He has learned to be analytical and and harsh. He can 'see' a lot more than he is given credit for to that effect he can be considered harsh and unforgiving. A traditionalist he has stuck to the old ways and always has a goal. Stepping into his fathers role was hard for him, the prejudice of his childhood following him the peoples doubt giving way to carve him a heart of stone, emotionless to a degree he has no room for another nor has he even entertained the idea of having another in his life though his mother will remind him almost constantly he needs an heir.

Likes: Summer {The heat feels nice on his skin} his hoods and masks.

Dislikes: Excessively loud people and Winter.

History: Being born blind into a clan of travelers and warriors would be hard for any parent let alone the child that has to suffer it. Taunted, bullied and belittled from a young age he quickly learned to 'see' the world in a different way, echo location, vibrations, even pressure and smell. . .he sees the worlds in a very different way to what most could ever imagine, but for as beautiful as his world is, it is also ugly.

The El'Ven boy seeing his thirty third summer thus marking his passing into his adult life was marred by the death of his father and his impromptu elevation to Clan Leader, something he had never wanted thinking himself unable to fill the role.

From the start he was ridiculed, ignored, sometimes even overtly outed and opposed the first few decades of his rule as Clan Leader where hard sometimes near impossible. Along the way he earned the respect of the elders, the loyalty of the Clans warriors and soon, through hard and unforgiving leadership and undeniable choices he became the Clan most successful leader and thier most respected one so far his fathers shoes filled and surpassed but not with ease.

. . .In this world only the strong will survive
Hear the roar and you will know you’re alive
Feel the energy build in your soul ‘cause it’s time. . .

. . .I'm the dark messiah
I'm the vengeful one
Look inside and see what you're becoming
In the blackest moments of a dying world
What have you become
Look inside and see what you're becoming. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

✙- Crow -✙
. . .Changed by the Light. . .

. . .Easy now to recognize
All the misery I have been through
It was beating me to submission
Till the day you arrived. . .

Name: Crow {Formally Known as Elias S'elterra / Lord Seeker}

Position of Power: Refugee of the Vale

Age: Unknown

Race: Loh'Ran {Half Human Half Vampire}

Sexual Orientation: Gay

Appearance: There was once a time that Crow's physical appearance was something of a mystery, not much seen of his face past his angular jaw line and a strands of his ash blonde hair. Now he does not hide his face, nor does he wear his once legendary hood.

Lightly tanned skin covers a thick muscular frame, heavy set he is surprisingly fast and rather agile for a man his size. An chiseled face is home to brilliant eyes that are ice white with a dark ring of rich blue around his iris that are set in deep sockets. High cheekbones and a set of lightly curved lips that seemed to always be in a half smile make him a beautiful man by definition.

Weapons of Choice: There are very few weapons he can not use and only one that he favors above all else.

His pride and joy are the two twin black steel daggers that where always very clean and very well looked after and always on his person now that he has had to move on and dramatically change his life style from what it once was.

Personality: A thoughtful and philosophical man, he is not what one would expect from a highly skilled near myth status assassin. Well spoken, well mannered, a good cook and navigator he seems far more suited to an entirely different way of life to the one he leads.

Driven and set by his morals, he does not break his promises nor does he give his word lightly. When he says something he means it and always has. He lives his life with purpose and a driving force behind him that keeps him going no matter what.

Likes: Weapons, Heavy layered clothing and armor. Living free and the color acid green {This owing greatly to the fact that this is the color of Abel's eyes}

Dislikes: Any form of harm or threat towards Abel {This is usually met with heightened, near unstoppable rage, leading to Abel being the only one able to control him}, Dull Weapons and storms.

History: Born a whores son he was abandoned onto the streets of the Vale in its Black Market city Kelgan at a very early age. Raised on the streets by the streets he from a young age got used to his dog eat dog world and learnt to come out on top in every fight he got into. This led to him become a very proficient fighter, which led him down the path of petty theft and organized crime, which led him right into the Oder of Crows that dominated the darker side of the Vale.

Spending most of his adult life with the Assassin's he soon became their most successful and legendary member. This however plagued by his past. While still living on the streets as a child he was kidnapped by a Vampire by the name of Cole. The brutal torture, both physical and mental left him heavily scarred, his mind torn, memories missing, including that of his own name but also left him a half breed, Cole failing to fully turn the boy before he broke free. All through his life after this experience he was only ever known as his title, the most recent one being Seeker. Plagued by his demons and his own fractured mind he was a lost man, heart break and darkness deep in his heart.

Then. . .He met Abel. After that he began to change. Healing little by little he was learning to be something more than just a shadow, a title. Laying to rest the source of his nightmares by murdering Cole and finally letting go of the man he had once loved but had to kill he moved on and left it all behind him. Little by little, sure but slow he became Crow, the man that Abel had both named him as and helped him become.

Then the Empire of the Final Dawn came for the Vale. There was no stopping them. The Vale being a small land forgotten by time still used swords and cannons to fight their battles like the medieval knights of old and they were soon over run and beaten by the High Escehllion's technology and advanced warfare. The Assassins fell quickly, along with every other Guild, even the Overseers where destroyed, a force the Vale had been fighting to destroy for near a decade before the Tyrant Emperor came along.

Thinking only of saving Abel and keeping his promise and sworn oath to always keep him safe, Crow done the only thing he could. Packing up what he could, leaving the Mantle of Seeker behind, along with his heavy hooded armor and distinctive assassins guild attire he fled into the Empire to the last place the High Escehllion would look for two refugees. . .the El'Ven wilds.


. . .You need never feel broken again
Sometimes darkness can show you the light. . .

Nemo Noctum

 

[IkoSibella]

_☓☠ - ℬriar 𝒜nthony ℒeeson - ♫☓_

. . .Our veins are busy but my heart's in atrophy
⚬⚬✘. . .You shouldn't be drowning on your own
Any way to distract and sedate
⚬⚬✘. . .So take a deep breath and let it go
Adding shadows to the walls of the cave. . .

Name: Briar Anthony Leeson

Position Of Power: Previously an Assassin for the Runners, now a hired Hitman for the public of the Empire.

Age: 27

Race: Human {With some Cybernetic upgrades}

Sexual Orientation: Claims to be bisexual as he has no real preference.

Appearance: Tall well built, always smartly dressed. He prides himself on always being presentable be he killing some one or sitting down for dinner {which are sometimes the same thing} Short cropped black hair with a long fringe which streaks of golden blonde can be seen shining through. Mocha skin that gets darker in the summer months sets him apart from his paler counterparts he embraces his dark skin color and uses it to his advantage. One brilliant amber gold eyes shines from a angular chiseled face, his other eye scarred and blind, a milky white orb left behind.

Weapons of Choice: Small hand guns, sniper rifles, concealed knives and garotte wires.

Personality: For a man of his profession he is unusually kind. Well spoken, opinionated but respectful he is a very intelligent man who makes murder look like art. Skilled both in delivering death and the finer arts he is a very experienced piano player with a knack for reciting Beethoven. A man that enjoys the simple things he keeps his life as simple as he can, of course regardless of being a highly trained killer.

Likes: Classical music, Coffee, Killing and a fully loaded gun.

Dislikes: Mistreated instruments, humid summer nights and deep winter freezes.

History: Briar was once upon a time an assassin for a cell of revolutionists when he could still call Eden home. Born to parents of no notoriety he grew up an average child in an average town and done nothing that made him important, that was, until he killed his first man.

At the age of fourteen Briar trained relentlessly in martial arts, close combat, weapon handling, he was even known for falling asleep at firing ranges. He had every intention of joining the military as a member of one of the sniper units. Before that could happen his home was raided, the Eden Military believing his parents to be members of the Lo'Feraday Runners they were killed in the struggle and Briar ran away.

Alone with no family he spent a few years on the streets, trading his skills for food and a warm place to sleep he got mixed up in the black market and as he reached his late teen he found himself a gun for hire, the last thing he had ever wanted to be. Soon enough the Runners heard about him, even hired him through an agent to see what he could really do an off the back of that contract he became a member of the Runners and never looked back.

When the Empire invaded however, he was one of the first to surrender and become a citizen. Not due to cowardice or compulsion to live he simply knew that one day, be it years in the future he would have his chance to deliver the Tyrannical Emperor the bullet that Briar had saved especially for him.

. . .Something isn't right
⚬⚬✘. . .You shouldn't be fighting on your own
I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin
⚬⚬✘. . .Someone's gonna take me home
I'm somewhere outside my life, I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in
⚬⚬✘. . .Somewhere I can rest my soul

 

[IkoSibella]

. . .☽ Eldris Valorn ☾. . .
​Black Wolf

​. . .The night is long
And the path is dark. . .


Name: Eldris Sy'Riah Valron

Position Of Power: Holds no position of power now, he was in his past life a Hunter of a First age clan that predates the formation of the Empire.

Age: His body is one hundred and seven {Real age unknown due to extended periods of sleep}

Race: Vampire {El'Ven before he was turned}

Sexual Orientation: Gay

Appearance: Eldris is in every way the prefect hunter. Lithe, strong, quick. . .built for the hunt he has endurance and stamina to spare but the brute strength of an adult Helshan. His face is angular, chiseled but the edges and lines are soft. Wicked white eyes look out from under snow white hair, his skin so pale it shares color with a fresh snow drift on the surface of the most northern mountain. Not a single scar nor imperfection mark his body which is proof of both the fact he is a hunter with out equal and also he is not quite as mortal as he may first seem.

Weapons of Choice: His own body. He embraces what he is an uses it to its full potential and natural purpose.

Personality: Much of the man he once was has faded with the centuries that have passed him by. When he chooses now to be awake he can be cruel and harsh at times even considered evil. Not known for pity nor sympathy he can at times seem uncaring and emotionless.

He however has not spent long enough awake in the last one hundred years to be anything else. He cares for no one as he has found no reason to in the time he has been awake nor any reason to stay awake. He has no emotional response to the plights of the people nor the Empire as he has slept through much of its formation and growth. When he wakes he cares only for the hunt and he sees very little that will ever change that.

Likes: The thrill of the hunt and the satisfaction of the catch.

Dislikes: A long hunt with no kill.

History: Not much is known of who he was before. All that is known is that he was once a member of a first age El'Ven clan that roamed the wilds long before the Empire even formed as a dream let alone a nation. Since then much of his life has been lost to the passing of time.

Today's El'Ven revere his a god, claiming he is the embodiment of the god of the hunt they call him Black Wolf and pray at his shrine they erected around his crypt, Eldris cares little for this but he appreciates them protecting his place of sleep.


​. . .live with me forever now,
Pull the blackout curtains down,
Just not for long. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

- ⚔ 𝒫aris 𝒜nthony ℳorganstiene ⚔ -

. . .All my life, one page at a time
I'll show you my, my true colors
And no, I won't apologize for the fire in my eyes
Let me show you my true colors, it ain't no rainbow. . .

Name: Paris Anthony Morganstiene

Position Of Power: Briar Anthony Leeson's right hand man

Age: 26

Race: Human {with a few cybernetic enhancements}

Sexual Orientation: Gay

Appearance: Very much like his cousin Briar he is always well dressed, not so much tailoring but still smart. Suit trousers, shirts and shoes are about as dressed up as he gets. Always wearing a holster for his knives he never leaves home with out a blade of some description and never less than four, only two of which cab be seen as he moves around the city and carries out his business.

With lightly tanned skinned and a sweep of dark chocolate brown hair he has sharp chiseled features that home bright white blue eyes. Covered in tattoos from the neck down his arms are always on show, a grim collection of skulls and blades, roses and blood decorate his skin not just for decoration, a few show just who he works for and the fact he is an assassin by trade.

Weapons of Choice: Knives of all descriptions. Machete, butterfly, throwing, dagger. . .he loves them all.

Personality: An intelligent person by all accounts he spends most of his time managing his cousins money but when he isn't he is a soft voiced, ill tempered man. Easy to piss off he has been known to kill out of spite rather than reason. Unpredictable at times he has been known to play brutal games of cat and mouse with his targets however he can hold a conversation, even shows interest if he finds the person he is talking to interesting.

Likes: Knives, blood and the color purple. Good food, strong alcohol and really has a thing for danish pastry.

Dislikes: Targets escaping, burned food, piss weak beer and his apartment being messy.

History: Even though he is related to Briar he could not have had a more different childhood. Brought up in a care home after the death of his parents he joined the Eden Military at sixteen, at the age of seventeen he was deployed to the runners as an under cover agent and it was there his life took a u-turn.

Taken in by the anti government message of the runners he soon turned against the Military using the skills they had taught him to begin to systematically assassinate the generals and higher ups. By the age of twenty one he had thirteen confirmed kills under his belt and had made one hell of name for himself.

When the Empire came he done the same as Briar, under his cousins advisement of course and willingly became a citizen. From there they set up and now run the most successful gang in one of the largest cities, Paris having promised Briar to help him take down the Tyrant ruler now favors his life as a gangsta and uses it to his advantage never forgetting his promise.

. . .A promise with a lie
Is broken by design
Something tells me I know nothing at all
I've escaped my capture and I have no master
And somehow it's like I've waited. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

➻ 𝒜reya

. . . I was looking for a breath of a life
For a little touch of heavenly light,
- - - ✰ And I am a wounded warrior
And now that the enemy is close,
I started to hear it again
But this time it wasn't the end. . .

Name: Areya Lay'len {Pronounced Ah-ree-yah}

Position Of Power: Clanless {Exiled from the wilds}

Age: One hundred and thirteen {In comparison with human years she is in her late twenties}

Race: El'Ven

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Standing at almost six foot tall she is well built. Tone and fit she walks with a subtle elegance that makes her seem fluid and loose. Long white hair reaches to her waist, large bright blue eyes are settled in a defined face with high cheekbones and soft full lips. Her skin is more tanned than her Dray'den counterparts but that is due to her having lived in her wilds all her life.

Weapons of Choice: Bow and arrow, small knives.

Personality: Stubborn and proud Areya is a fierce woman to reckon with. She is set in her ways and very reluctant to change yet very quick to adapt when she has to. Expressive and even tempered she keeps her cool in most situations but she has been known for loosing her temper over the smallest of things that however is a very rare occurrence.

Likes: Strawberries and snowdrop blooms. Fletching arrows {she finds it therapeutic} and reading.

Dislikes: Living in the cities, being exiled and forced to live among Dray'den and Humans. Mostly humans however as she does not trust them.

History: Born in the wilds Areya has known clan life her whole life. Used to living in a small camp with her people the only worries she ever had were preparing for the winter and making clothes.

The the humans came, a small band of them moved into the wilds, made camp and tried to set up a life for themselves. As one of the more open minded ones of her clan she was asked to talk with them, help the clan leader decide whether they should be allowed to stay or not. She made friends with them, convinced the clan leader to let them stay and for a time things were good. The humans and the Elves lived side by side, worked together helped each other through the long winters and hunted together in the summer months.

Areya soon fell in love with one of the men of the human camp, a romance that some encouraged and others despised but after everything it only served to make the clan and the humans stronger as a team of sorts, but then, her love betrayed her and killed the Clan Leader and the clan leaders daughters but his betrayal was seen to be her fault, now hated by her people, openly victimized and shunned she lived on the edges of the clan finally exiled and forced to leave the wilds she was warned to never return on pain of death.

Now she lives in the cities and she hates every second of it. Alone, lost in a world that is not her own and confused she is trying her best to fit into a new life here but even her Dray'den counterparts do not help her and she is struggling, not that she would ever admit it.

. . . I am a wounded warrior
Looking for someone to let me in,
- - - ✰ And my heart is a hollow plain
For the devil to dance again,
Black and blue, I'm begging you
Take me in, I'm surrendering. . .

Nemo Noctum

 

[IkoSibella]

. . .I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind. . .

⋄ℰ𝓋𝔢𝓇𝓁𝓎𝓃 ℳ𝒶𝓎⋄

. . .Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high. . .

Name: Everlyn Lillietta May

Age: Nintey Eight

Race: Elf

Heritage: Second Daughter of the First King of the land of Du'ersa

Status: Diplomatic Hostage of The High Eschellion

Residence: Castle Shi'Vella Shan

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Relationships: Single

Appearance: Unmistakably Elven in appearance she is pale and fair. Graceful, elegant and tall she looks every part a princess with prominent, high cheekbones, full lush lips in the soft shape of a heart and hazel eyes that seem to constantly question everything. Favoring long layered clothes she can always be found in a dress and shawl, her long hair braided for both appearance and function. A band of pure of white gold on her wrist that she always wears carries the seal of her homeland marking her out as a member of the royal family.

Weapons of Choice: - Her words - Renowned in her homeland for her sharp tongue and fierce wit it would seem her words can mortally wound.

- Her swords - Given to her by her father who taught her from a young age to fight due to the nature of her role with in the family she is with out equal in her homeland. This skill is something of a secret however as both herself and her family do not wish the person that is holding her hostage at the time to know what she is capable of.

Personality: Fierce, defiant, stubborn and strongly opinionated she offers her words and thoughts with little thought as to if they were wanted or needed. Certainly her fathers most outspoken child she also knows when to be quiet and reserved though that is the time she is the most dangerous due to the fact she is learning what she can use against some one in the future or even in the next moment.

A strong head for politics she does not resent her position in her family. Knowing, even though she may be a princess, she will never be the queen, she takes to her role as the family politician with grace and ease, something she learned from her mother.

Likes: Cream cakes and long walks round well kept gardens. The color red and reading.

Dislikes: Having her reading interrupted, her opinion belittled and men believing her inferior.

Guilty Pleasure: Chocolate, specifically saltwater chocolate made in the east.

History: Being the second born to most would mean just being the younger sibling. In her family however it means her role is to be the diplomatic hostage to kings and countries while her own negotiates war, trade or peace. Traveling from land to land she rarely gets chance to see her homeland but she does not mind, in fact she enjoys traveling even more so after the birth of her brother and the crowing of her older sister as queen in waiting. Being far away from home means she is far from being made to feel inferior even if she is both a princess and a warrior.

. . . Fate is going to call
But I just keep on breathing
Long as my heart is beating. . .

𝓈econd 𝒹aughter 𝒪f 𝓉he 𝒻irst 𝓀ing

. . .Life has got to kill
Faith is going to blind
Hope is going to fade. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

Θlivia ℳouse Σzmeena

. . .Back when we were kids. . .
―――――――― ⟺ Oh, I know that love is pain⟺
. . .Swore we would never die. . .
―――――――― ⟺But we can't cut it from out these veins⟺
. . .You and me were kids. . .
―――――――― ⟺I know I could lie but I'm telling the truth⟺
. . .Swear that we’ll never die. . .
―――――――― ⟺I come alive when I'm close to the madness⟺

Name: Olivia Ezmeena {Nicknamed Mouse}

Age: 25

Race: Human

Heritage: Brought as a slave at young age after being sold by her birth parents.

Status: Procurer of Artifacts and items of Value {she hates being called a thief}

Residence: The Underground of Lath'eran City in the heart of the black market trade runs.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Relationships: Single

Appearance: Of average height and not considered remarkably attractive Olivia, or Mouse as she is more commonly known as has liquid gold eyes and two tone blue and purple hair are her only remarkable features. Athletic in build and always dressed for mobility and hiding, tight clothes that cover as much skin as possible, goggles always around her neck or on her head and always wearing a jacket with a hood she can appear and disappear as easily and quickly as she pleases. Tan skin with just two scars and a slave mark on her face she moves fluidly and is always ready to run and is a hell of a lot faster and stronger than she looks.

Weapons of Choice: She avoids fighting as much as she physically can even to point of running from a fight if she doesn't like her odds. One on one she is fast fighter favoring quick take downs and fights that will end faster than they start.

Personality: She keeps herself to herself as much as she can delving deep enough to 'acquire' what she needs to she stays away from peoples business as much as she can preferring not to get caught up in it, when asked why her response is always 'the less I know the less I can be tortured for'.

Very careful, slightly paranoid and as mistrusting as they come she is considered a flight risk by all those that know her though no one considers her a coward she just knows how to stay alive having lived on the streets her whole life. Despite her two tone hair she can blend in to the crowd and be gone before even look at her twice preferring to stay as far way from guards and Reavers as she can she lives life with out a trace and is very hard to find.

Likes: Being left alone and not looked for. Stealing things {even though she hates being called a thief} and the sea.

Dislikes: Fighting, Guards and Soldiers and most other people.

Guilty Pleasure: Classical music.

History: Born to normal parents in a less than normal world Olivia was sold into slavery by her parents to pay of a debt, to this day she thanks her lucky stars and what ever god that will listen that the man that brought her was a kind man. He taught her the ways of the black market, how to live in a world that's just as cruel as it is beautiful and in return she used what she had been taught and her natural talents to make him a wealthy man.

She never had a interest in the money however and uses the money she earns from her endeavors to pay for travel, bribes and every now and then to by some shiny thing she likes.

Widely considered the best thief in the underworld she has gained a large notoriety among her peers and those of other cities that however has not changed her. Still as hard to find as she always was, people have to leave notes with details of jobs with her 'owner' who is more like her father now and she leaves the results with him once again for her clients to collect.

. . .I know I could try looking for something new. . .
⟺Some people pray to their God for some magic ⟺――――――――
. . .Others are quietly going insane. . .
⟺But I feel alive when I'm close to the madness ⟺――――――――
. . .Worn to the bones. . .
⟺I told myself, This could be rough ⟺――――――――
. . .Swear that I’ll never die. . .
⟺We swore we could never die ⟺――――――――

 

[IkoSibella]

❯❯- ☠ - Lelliana Mai Sestra - ♡ ➜

. . .Perfect imperfections with mistakes and a unlearned lessons. . .


Name: Lelliana Mai Sestra

Age: 113

Race: Vampire

Heritage: Born a noble she no longer claims a title.

Status: Left hand of the Grand Master

Residence: Currently residing in Gel'Thera City operating out of the Golden Cathedral Theatre.

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Relationships: Single

Appearance: -

Weapons of Choice: Kusarigama (chain blade) and her Fangs.

Personality: She can be somewhat spiteful and unkind even at times considered rude she does not care much for that people think of her nor does she really care at all for them. Her only priority, as it has been for a long time now, is the shadow hands and her loyalty to the crown.

Likes: Dancing, getting paid, her role in life such as it is.

Dislikes: Being under paid for what she does and having her abilities doubted. Groping old men.

Guilty Pleasure: seventeen year matured Whiskey from Duenan Vale.

History: Lelliana had a normal life as a Vampire noble. Her childhood was easy, nothing expected of her but to marry well and continue the bloodline that was until her twin brother died, then her life changed and not for the better.

Her mother over taken by grief hated Lelliana for being the child that survived, something that Lelliana bore well as she had always known she was the least loved child in the family. Her father could no longer look at her so she left home with what she was allowed and has never and will never return.

Getting in with the shadow hands was easy for her, her natural affinity with the darkness and her born ability to kill made her the perfect fit, several decades in she is the left hand of the man in charge and likes it that way thank you very much.


. . .Dirty on the inside, damaged goods with nothing but pride. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

. . .It's a long, long lane that has no turning
And it's a fire that always keeps on burning. . .

𝔊rand 𝔐aster

. . .Mister devil down below
Pitchfork in his hand. .



Name: Grand Master

Age: Unknown

Race: Vampire

Heritage: Unknown

Status: Grand Master of the Shadow Hands Keeper of the Black Chateau

Residence: Black Chateau

Sexual Orientation: Straight.

Relationships: Single

Appearance: Nothing is known of his true physical appearance. From what he wears it can be seen his is of stocky build, carries himself well with an elegance mostly seen in the old blood nobles.

Weapons of Choice: No one has ever seen him fight. No one is even sure if he can and the man himself says nothing on the subject.

Personality: What interaction he has with others makes people believe he is a well mannered man, patient but only to a point. Made angry by faliure and bad news he is a stickler for perfection and will accept nothing less.

Obbsessive and with the ability to fixate on one single thing or person his focus is both hard earned and hard shaken off.

Likes: Running the Shadow Hands, gathering the information, keeping the secrets of nations.

Dislikes: People who fail at the tasks he gives them.

Guilty Pleasure: Ancient tomes and dusty novels from long forgotten eras in time.

History: Nothing is known of the man down to what he looks like. He has no past, most are not even sure if he is the same man that started the Shadow Hands or if he has simply taken his place, no one would be any wiser due to the fact no one knows what he looks like or even for sure who he is. All that is know for absolute fact is that he is a Vampire, the only thing about him he makes no secret about.



. . .Just as sure as you's born
Devil's gonna get you. . .
𝒮ecret 𝒦eeper
. . .the devil's gonna get you
Sure as you're born to die. . .

 

[IkoSibella]

𝒞ommander 𝒦yra 𝒟restonia

. . .This night ain't for the faint of heart
'Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart
This night ain't for the holy man with the holy plan
For the promised land
This night we got the evil hand
And the evil hand gonn' raise the dead. . .

Name: Thell'Kyra Rosetta Drestonia

Age: Her age is placed in early hundreds due to the nature of a Reavers life span, the woman herself does not allow her age to be common knowledge.

Race: Battle Reaver

Heritage: Whoever her parents may have once been is now lost knowledge as is her blood line and heritage.

Status: New Leader of the Shattered Battalion following Commander Helix's fall from Grace.

Residence: Das'Terra in the Shattered Battalions Home.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Relationships: Single

Appearance: Tall, pale, strong and fast but elegant when she moves she has been mistaken for a Vampire more times than she cares to count.

Bright gold eyes that burn like two suns, blood red lips and deathly pale skin does not help the visual mistakes nor does her choice of clothing. Black, red and gold are her signature colors even when she fights which she does in those heels more often than some might suspect.

Weapons of Choice: Her gun and her sword. Her gun is a gold and silver cast Revolver that fires .50 caliber bullets which would devastating enough if she did not then use it as a medium for her powers. The same goes for her sword, a Katana in the form of a One handed Tameshigiri would also be a deadly enough thing with out the added weight of her Reaver powers punched in behind it.

Personality: Observant, brutal, a temper like a collapsing sun and so morally driven by her black and white assumption of what is right and wrong she is loyal to the point of killing for it.

Open about most things she expects respect and loyalty from who are now her men and she does not take kindly to any comparrison between her and the Battalion's previous Commander. Can often be found on the Battlefield with headphones in, killing to the beat.

Likes: Her Heels, bass heavy music and her Weapons.

Dislikes: Mistakes, Failures and the color white.

Guilty Pleasure: Leather and Tattoos.

History: What is known of her most recent history is that she is a very capabale soldier who has never failed and an incerdiably powerful Reaver, a new breed called a Battle Reaver, the application of the Tattoos a traumatic experience due to the fact they are lay under skin and bone to remain hidden allowing for maximum use of power due to them being imbedded, an experience she does not talk of but the trauma shows when she kills.

. . . There's a serpent in these still waters
lying deep down
To the king, I will bow, at least for now
One of these days a-coming, I'm gonna take that boy's crown
Hands red, hands red just like he said
I am a little wicked. . .