About

October 4th, 2009:
A little about me!
I'm nineteen. Studying English at university. Currently a sophomore.
I speak English, some Spanish and am learning lots of French.
I smoke. Sometimes I drink and I have done other things but usually I don't.
I'm bisexual. I love board games. I'm a vegetarian. I'm for the rights of the people but I'm also for government health care and putting more money into schools.
I'm in my university's SCI (student coalition of inquiry) group and the KPA (pride alliance) group. Between classes, homework, the groups, and other things I can be pretty busy. If I'm not, I'll get on and role play so it comes in waves.
After I graduate I plan to join the peace corps and teach English somewhere.
I also want to be a bartender, a piercer, a yoga instructor and a myriad of other things.
I love the city and the country. I just hate the south.
My current obsessions include cheez-its and True Blood.

I role play, generally around commerce, so I shall fill this with my characters.

Aerandir Linwëlin

Aerandir, Aer [ay-air] as he likes to be called, is a dark elf. "Aerandir" is the equivalent to "Kane" in English and means honor/tribute.

The basics: Aerandir is unaware of his own age, but it is around three hundred years.
Midnight blue skin.
Light cerulean eyes.
Seven feet in height.
A lean, wiry muscled build.
Platinum colored hair.
Pointed ears.
Generally wears a pair of black pants and borrowed sneakers, exposing his slim torso.

Aerandir is from Silmataruea, a place that went to war long ago. He was a warrior back then, reaching the level of the Shaalth, or lieutenant. Afterward, he studied magic under an Istar, a wizard, before eventually becoming an assassin. That's when the war began and ended his life there. He has been traveling ever since.


The long version: Almost three hundred years ago, Aerandir was born in Silmataurea, the Neverwinter Woods. The name had nothing to do with the season, or lack there of, but that is another, less interesting, story. The color of this particular elf’s skin was darker than most elves there, but the deep midnight blue went well with his light cerulean eyes that glowed from the moment they opened. Aerandir’s eyes were the exact shade of his mother’s, something he always adored.
Aerandir was an only child, but it had never felt that way. The way the elves lived, as a community, every child was his sibling. He was fond of them all and loved everyone he knew dearly. He grew fast, shooting up like a weed, becoming strong and quick. All elves are graceful, so he had that aspect, too. It wasn’t long before the warriors found him. Light elves are commonly know for their peaceful attitudes, even though they know how to fight, but the dark elves prized themselves on combat; both groups were ones not to mess with. Aerandir did well enough with archery, but he was proficient in swordsmanship, learning the Draa Velve technique of using two swords with great balance. He was one of the rare dark elves that became Bladesingers. Bladesong is a way of fighting that was more aesthetic, looking more like a beautiful ceremonial dance than a fight--but is deadly nonetheless. The only other technique Aerandir advanced in was Jivvin Gothyrr. That one is more common among dark elves since it’s name means “amusing trick” and is used to bring the enemy down, to humiliate them in the fight. It brought their dark race pleasure.
With his honed fighting skills and knowledge is strategy, Aer quickly became a Shaalth just before adulthood, at the age of 100. It was a comfortable position with some perks and utilized his better points. He still lived in the darker part of the woods, as all elves generally do, living in and around nature. He lived like an adult, alone, but still a big part of the community where he spent the majority of his time. Then he finally turned 100, the peak of an elf’s life. At that point, they stop growing in any way besides character, and are considered adults by all. Even though Aerandir was good at what he was doing, he didn’t have a taste for war and he could choose what to do. So, he began studying under the Istar, learning complicated spells.

Unfinished.





Sebastian Summerland

Age: 15
Concert cellist
Asexual
Very into artsy things
Loves to read
Favorite drink is black coffee / scotch
Height: 5'9''
Writes stories
Loves to pretend

Sample intro post:
" A baby-faced boy had found the perfect spot for everything. The abandoned, vine-riddled building was set in an idyllic little opening as if it had grown right out of one of his favorite novels. It looked just old enough for his tastes, but sturdy and just asking to be lived in by one such as himself. Afterall, he was considering himself to be a drifter at that point. All he had with him was a bag that went across his chest, carrying as many belongings (most of which were books or notebooks) as could fit. Sadly, all of his dreams were shot down when he realized people were in the building. He sighed, watching them from the doorway; he had opened the door, expecting vacancy. When a moment had passed, he realized this wasn't someone's home. It was a place of gathering and a place of business. Well, that was nearly as exciting as an empty building to him.

Rushing inside, Sebastian Summerland stumbled upon the scene, though he didn't bother anyone just yet. The boy was young, maybe looking seventeen years old at most, and completely human. He had medium length dark hair that fell onto his forehead paired with bright, inquisitve blue eyes. His clothes were simple with a light colored jeans that fit snugly but didn't cling to his skin, a plain white shirt, a beige-ish blazer and a scarf that looped around his neck, keeping it warm and hidden from view as if a secret laid upon his skin. Even though Sebastian looked average, he really wasn't. Not that he wasn't human or anything; he was just an odd kid.

The chilly night and inviting atmosphere made him crave a cup of coffee and so he hoped they carried such a thing as he made his way to the bar, looking for some sort of server. He didn't sit, for he thought himself too young to sit there. No, he would just take his drink and sit on a comfy piece of furniture to observe the others. Perhaps he would even make a new friend or even stay the night. "




Always Seen Together:
Logan Vance Emerson
"Hollow / Dweller of a bog / Son (of the noble) "
Age: Looks 27, Actually 134
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian / Vampire
Former name: Brian Vance Emerson
Birthplace: Jonestown
Birthday: May 16th, 1875

Elizabeth "Liddie" Carter
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian / Human
Birthplace: Jonestown
Birthday: January 5th, 1991